by Lisa McMann
• • •
Early in the morning Thisbe went into the kitchen. The Revinir was there with a handful of guards. Before Thisbe knew what was happening, three of the guards stepped in front of the doorway behind her, blocking the exit. Another stood by the cauldron.
Wary, Thisbe glanced around and saw she was trapped in the kitchen with the Revinir. “What are you doing?” she asked. “Where’s Dev? What’s happening?”
The Revinir calmly picked up a cup. “I’ve tried this new broth, and it seems worthless,” she said. “But I want to test it on you.”
“No,” said Thisbe, eyeing the soldiers and trying to remain calm. She took a step back. “I don’t want to drink that.”
“Oh, but you will,” said the woman, stepping toward her. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t think it’ll do anything to you, either.”
“No,” said Thisbe, more firmly. “I won’t do it!”
The Revinir narrowed her eyes at the girl. Then she sighed heavily, annoyed, and looked sideways at one of the soldiers. Without a word, the soldier stepped up to Thisbe and grabbed her arm while the Revinir dipped the cup into the boiling broth.
“I said no!” Thisbe cried out. She wrenched her arm out of the soldier’s grasp.
“Drink it!” shouted the Revinir, holding the steaming cup toward her. “Here. You can hold it. Just take your time. Just a small sip.”
“I won’t!” Thisbe darted to keep the guard from grabbing her again, then lunged at the Revinir, trying to knock the cup out of her hand. The soldier stuck his foot out to trip Thisbe. She screamed and flopped to the floor hard on her back. “Stop!” she yelled. The soldier backed off, but the Revinir swooped in and splashed the cup of hot broth in Thisbe’s face.
Mid-scream, Thisbe gasped in surprise, sucking some of it in. She choked and sputtered and felt it scald her lips and tongue and the back of her throat as it went down. Coughing, she swiped her eyes to clear them and rolled to her side. “I hate you!” she said bitterly, and tried to spit the taste from her mouth. But it remained.
Satisfied that Thisbe had ingested at least a little of the broth, the Revinir backed off and held the soldiers at bay, watching Thisbe carefully.
Thisbe stayed low, feeling strange. Slowly she wiped her face with her shirt. Her mind spun as odd new thoughts entered it—but none of them made sense. A flash of an ancient stone road, an army of soldiers, a blaze of silver dragons in battle. A broken land, a destroyed forest, a river stretching out and falling into a sea. Bodies in heaps. A pirate ship sailing away. A barrage of meteors and a devastating earthquake. Children being sent away in the dead of night. A young woman dragged off by soldiers.
The images kept coming, flashing behind Thisbe’s eyes, making her dizzy. She stared blindly at the floor of the kitchen, feeling the Revinir staring at her and knowing she couldn’t let on that anything had changed. She didn’t want the horrid woman to think she had felt anything at all.
Her stomach roiled, and she clutched at it. She lifted her head weakly, then gagged and retched at the Revinir’s feet. The woman exclaimed in disgust, and the soldiers yanked Thisbe away from her. Still dizzy, Thisbe couldn’t see anything beyond the images flashing, too many to keep track of. Sometime during all of this, her dragon scales had risen painfully of their own accord. They stood on end as burning tears poured from her eyes, trying to flush the broth. She coughed again. “Leave me alone,” she whispered when she could speak again. Her body ached.
After a few moments the flashing images subsided. Thisbe’s coughing fits settled, and the tears slowed. She lifted her head and tried to focus on the boiling pot of broth nearby. Her vision steadied, and she glanced at the soldiers near the door, seeing that a few of them didn’t try to hide their discomfort at witnessing the Revinir’s actions. Then Thisbe turned and looked up at the woman with more contempt than she’d ever felt for anyone in the world. “Are you happy now?” she said sarcastically, her voice ragged. “You got your way again by being horrible. You must be so proud of yourself.”
“Did anything happen to you?” the Revinir asked, clearly having no qualms about what she’d just done.
Thisbe clenched and unclenched her fists. Her face blazed. She spat on the floor again, then wiped her mouth, the taste of vomit overshadowing the broth. “No,” she said as civilly as she could muster. She focused on remaining calm. She had to, or she could ruin her plans for escape. With all the soldiers nearby, Thisbe couldn’t let a single spark escape or they’d be all over her.
“Nothing at all?” asked the Revinir, a tiny line of gray smoke coming from her nostrils. She stared into Thisbe’s eyes as if she could read if she were lying.
Thisbe stared back defiantly, no longer caring what the Revinir could do with her dragon powers. “Nothing at all.” She worked her jaw, then moved to clean up the mess on the floor since she knew no one else would do it. She glanced at her forearms and saw the dragon scales were lying down again.
“Good,” said the Revinir. “Start bottling it up. Dev can take it to the market next week.”
“Unbelievable,” Thisbe muttered. Then she narrowed her eyes. “Is that where he is now? Alone?”
“Of course not alone. I sent soldiers with him.”
“Why didn’t you send me and leave him to drink that horrid stuff?”
“Because you don’t have the first clue about money. Besides, you’d try to escape.”
“Wouldn’t Dev try?”
“No. He’s been a servant his whole life. He wouldn’t dare. He knows his life would be in danger if he’s not with someone in authority.” She gave Thisbe a warning look. “Yours would be too.”
“Because of our eyes,” said Thisbe.
“Obviously. You’re safe down here. And you can gain more power over the others by sticking with me. Despite your horrendous behavior and lack of respect, I’m holding out hope to be able to trust you.” She folded her arms. “I promise we can go far together.”
Thisbe glared. After all the woman had done to her, she still thought Thisbe would leap at the chance to work with her over the long term. “Right.” Thisbe shook her head. “What do I have that can help you?”
The Revinir began to pace. “You have the magic and the ancestry. I’ve got the dragons. Together we’re the right combination to take back this land.”
Thisbe narrowed her eyes. “You have more dragons? Where are they?”
The Revinir gave a condescending smile. “I am the dragon. But we have access to other dragons if we need them. You’ll find out more in time if you commit to working with me.”
“How do you know I haven’t already?”
“I can read your thoughts.”
Thisbe knew the woman had to be lying, because if she could read her thoughts, she’d know a lot about what she and Rohan were planning to do. “What am I thinking right now?”
“You’re thinking that I’m right about your brother and the people of Artimé. They aren’t coming back for you.”
The words struck Thisbe like a spear to her heart, and she couldn’t stop her gasp in reaction.
The Revinir seemed pleased to have hit her hard. “See? I’ll convince you eventually. We’re better together. We could rule this entire land, beyond the depths of the forest,” she said, pointing north, “and far beyond the lake.” She pointed west. “But only if we work together. There’s a lot to overcome.”
“I’d rather die than work with you,” said Thisbe.
The Revinir grabbed Thisbe’s arm and said in low, sinister voice, “If you attempt to escape, you just might.”
Fifer Catches Up
The birds had begun rustling early near the hammock, seeming to understand the need to get off to a good start before the light of day. Fifer shook Crow awake, and the two of them packed up and climbed onto the hammock. “We need to find Alex,” Fifer told Shimmer. “You know who that is, right? And Arabis the orange and Simber.” Shimmer and several others bobbed their heads, and then Shimmer called out ins
tructions in its usual way. Soon they were rising above the trees and soaring over the forest.
“They seem to understand everything you say,” Crow mused. “I wonder how long it would’ve taken you to find this out if Thisbe had been around.”
“I might never have,” said Fifer. “I hope she can learn to like them. Especially since they’re really well trained now. I’ll teach them to not flutter up at her.”
“She’ll probably get used to them,” Crow agreed. “I totally have, and I used to be terrified of Queen Eagala’s threat of sending the birds after us Warblerans. When she actually did it, I thought that was the end for me. Then you broke the spell with your scream. It was amazing. I was there with you, hiding in the giant rock.”
“I remember,” said Fifer, though she meant she remembered the story as Lani had written it, not from her own memory.
“It seems odd that these falcons started turning up after that, doesn’t it? I’ve been thinking about that. Ishibashi told Seth that they’d never seen them until about ten years ago. And the scientists have been there over sixty years now I think.”
“That is odd,” said Fifer. She looked down and could see a road leading from the castle to the west. It was the one she and Thisbe had traveled on in the back of a vehicle. “Maybe when I broke the spell, the ravens turned into these magical falcons.”
“And maybe that’s why the birds obey you,” said Crow. “Because you broke the spell.”
“I’ll bet the Revinir will be really mad if she finds that out,” said Fifer. “I hope I get a chance to tell her.”
Crow smiled. In general he could tell that Fifer was maturing, and she seemed to be putting a bit more thought into her actions. But she still had her moments of recklessness, and this was one of them. “Again, you might want to think that through before you do it.”
“I know, I know,” Fifer muttered. “Sometimes I just say things that are in my head to see how they sound out loud. Sometimes they sound good, other times not.” She didn’t say whether she agreed with Crow and instead sat up and looked out. The birds were taking them safely above the trees so there was little chance of anyone noticing them. She wondered how far Alex and the others had made it. Maybe they’d even rescued Thisbe already. While Fifer would hate to miss that action, it would be more than worth it to have her sister back safely.
After a while, in the distance they could see the big city of Grimere and the Dragonsmarche square in the middle of it. Shimmer uttered a sharp call to the other birds. They changed course slightly and headed for the edge of the forest that lay closest to the city.
“I think the birds found our rescue team.” Fifer shifted nervously, then peered out but couldn’t see anything through the cover of trees. The birds carefully maneuvered their cargo to fly above the river, where they could descend below the branches and find a place to set everything down. Crow and Fifer shaded their eyes, trying to see any sign of Alex’s team.
The birds clipped a huge treetop, which slowed them down sharply, throwing Fifer and Crow off balance. The two tried desperately to lean in the hammock this way and that to avoid branches, but the ground came up fast and the birds screeched and fluttered to a halt. A few of them were forced to drop their ends to avoid smacking into trunks. The hammock tipped and spilled its contents onto the forest floor. Fifer and Crow tumbled out and sprawled awkwardly on the ground, unhurt.
When they could pull themselves to their feet, they looked up and around. Twenty feet away stood Alex and the others, staring at them.
“Oh,” said Fifer, pulling leaves from her hair. “Hello.”
Finding Common Ground
Carina, Thatcher, and Kaylee stared. Seth’s mouth fell open in shock. Simber, who’d been ready to pounce, stood down and nearly smiled, but quickly looked stern instead. Arabis appeared startled but pleased, and Talon seemed unsurprised, though if he’d expected anything, he’d kept it to himself.
Alex’s face went from shock to fury in about half a second. “What the— How did you—” he sputtered, and then, “Fifer, honestly! I don’t know what to do with you anymore.”
Fifer smiled meekly and inched closer to Crow for protection. But Crow looked at Fifer expectantly—it was up to her to explain.
“Take it down a notch, Al,” murmured Kaylee, putting her hand on her brother-in-law’s shoulder, lest he go barreling at his sister. “Let her talk before you go shooting off your mouth again and wrecking everything. Remember what you said yesterday.”
Alex clenched his teeth and muttered, “That was when I thought she was in Artimé.”
“Are you really that surprised to see her, though?” Carina asked him. “She’s got more tenacity than all of us put together. It’s admirable.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Seth. He grinned and ran over to Fifer and embraced her. “How did you do that? You got them to fly you this whole way? That’s incredible! They must be really tired.”
“They took shifts,” said Fifer, keeping one eye on Alex. “Some of them would rest on the edges of the hammock when it wasn’t their turn.”
“Cooo-l. Ha-ha. Get it? Bird joke.” Seth chuckled to himself and bent down to look more closely at the magical falcons.
“Hi, Alex,” Fifer said finally.
He nodded. “Fifer.”
“Look,” Fifer began, remembering Crow’s advice, “I know you’re mad. But I couldn’t stand being so far away from Thisbe. She’s . . . she’s my other half, like you and Aaron. Plus, I can help you all. And I know you’ll never believe me unless you see me do it. So I’m here. To . . . to show you.”
“Hey!” cried Seth suddenly, standing up again. “You’re wearing a component vest! Who’d you steal that from?”
Insulted, Fifer smoothed the wrinkles from her vest. “I didn’t steal it. I would never do something like that.”
“Someone lent it to you?” asked Alex.
Fifer blew out a frustrated breath. “No, Alex. I earned it the way everyone else earns it. From the Magical Warrior trainer.”
“Florence gave it to you?”
Fifer pinched her lips together. She didn’t want to name Florence outright, though everyone knew that’s who she meant. She didn’t deny it. “Every other person in Artimé has earned their vest on their own merit. Nobody goes around asking the parents or guardians if it’s okay to give a kid a vest. It’s up to the trainer to decide. And she did. So.”
Alex scratched his stubbly chin, his eyes narrowed and still on Fifer. He sighed and shook his head slightly, and then he emitted what almost sounded like a reluctant laugh. “You drive me crazy, Fifer,” he said. “You really do.”
Fifer nearly spat out an angry retort about how he drove her even crazier, but Crow touched her shoulder. She glanced up at him, and he frowned.
“Look,” Crow whispered. “He’s smiling. Don’t blow it.”
Carina, Thatcher, and Kaylee all seemed to be saying the same thing with their strained expressions.
Fifer closed her lips and dropped her gaze. She took a couple breaths. “I know I drive you crazy,” she admitted. “It’s like I can’t help it, you know? Because I’m so worried about Thisbe. I can’t stand not knowing. Like, remember when you thought Aaron was dead that one time? You said you could feel that part of you was gone.”
Alex’s smile faded as he remembered. He could almost feel it again just thinking back to those days. “I remember,” he said quietly. After a moment he came over to her and knelt, putting his hand out to pet one of Fifer’s birds. “I’ve actually been thinking a lot on this journey. And I get it now.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I’m still mad you disobeyed me. But . . .” He glanced at Lani, who raised an eyebrow at him and nodded encouragingly. “I think maybe you and I should take a little walk. Okay?”
Fifer nodded. “Okay.”
Alex stood, and he and Fifer set out through the forest away from the others. Fifer glanced over her shoulder, and Kaylee gave her two thumbs up in enco
uragement.
When they were out of earshot of the others, Alex glanced at Fifer. To his surprise, she was a few inches taller than his shoulder already. “When did you get so tall?” he asked sheepishly.
Fifer shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m strong, too. Want to see?”
He nodded. Fifer lifted her arm and flexed her biceps. He reached out and tested it. “Wow,” he said, impressed.
Fifer dropped her arm, then said, suddenly impassioned, “Alex, I want to tell you things. Secrets. Confessions.”
Alex looked surprised. “Okay,” he said. “You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”
“I’ve tried to tell you things before, but you haven’t been hearing me.”
Alex opened his mouth to retort, but then he closed it. “That’s fair. Will you give me another chance?”
Fifer was surprised and encouraged by his question. She nodded and began. “First confession: I watched out the window when Florence was training you on the west lawn.”
Alex cringed. “Oh. I see.”
“I was so proud of you, Alex.” Fifer’s voice hitched. Suddenly tears were surfacing in both their eyes. “I was there,” she went on, “and Florence knew about it. And I learned how to use the components that way, as Florence retaught you. But mostly that time by the window was so important for another reason. Because I saw bits and pieces of the Alex from Lani’s books for the first time. And I feel like I know you better now.”
Alex stopped walking and stared numbly at the ground cover. “I haven’t read them,” he confessed.
Fifer stopped too and faced him. “What? How could you not?”
“It was too hard.”
“What was?”
He pursed his lips, a pained expression crossing his face. “Reliving all of those losses. The battles, and my friends. It was too hard to see myself as I was before . . . and realize I’m not that person anymore. And the person I am now is someone I don’t . . . really . . . like as much.” He let out a breath. “It was too hard to be painted as some sort of hero when I wasn’t feeling like one. It was easier to shove all of those memories away where they couldn’t gnaw at me every day. Easier to pretend that ‘fearless leader Alex’ was just a character in a storybook I hadn’t read.”