Dragon Slayers

by Lisa McMann

  “You’re being kind of a snot right now,” Fifer remarked.

  Thisbe fumed. “You just feel like it’s no big deal because you see yourself in the clear, based on the assumption that having more good inside you is better. You’re someone who’s been told they’re more good than evil. So you don’t see the impact this has on people like me, who have a bias automatically applied to them. I’m more evil than good, so therefore you expect me to do bad things. You probably even pity me, you annoyingly righteous do-gooder. That’s not fair. What if you ignored your inner goodness and only focused on the sliver of evil inside you? I firmly believe people do this all the time.”

  “I would never do that,” said Fifer primly.

  “You totally used your evil side on me when we arrived here, you big liar.”

  “That was to protect you, so I see that as using my good side, actually,” Fifer retorted.

  “This whole plan of yours is pure evil!” Thisbe said.

  Fifer gasped. “It is not. It’s—”

  Thisbe turned away in disgust. “Can we not talk about this?”

  Dev’s head ping-ponged between the twins. “Um, okay, so if anyone cares, we have some work to do.” He tapped the plans. “I want to get through this. I’ve got to work on my weapons.”

  “Right,” said Fifer, settling down.

  Thisbe wrinkled her nose at Fifer, and Fifer sneered back. Then they both chuckled softly.

  Dev did a double take. “Okay, laughing now. Is that… good? Or is that the sound you make before you rip each other’s heads off?”

  Thisbe growled, and both girls pounced on Dev. The three wrestled on the floor playfully for a moment before straightening up again. Fifer held her sore wrist but didn’t seem to regret how she’d reinjured it.

  Dev scooted back and blew out a breath. “Whew. I’m not sure I have it in me to handle both of you together. Sparring one at a time was a little more manageable.”

  “You’ll have your wish soon,” Thisbe said. The words dropped with a thud.

  “On that note,” said Fifer, fixing her hair, “let’s get serious about this. Where were we?”

  “I was asking how this plan begins,” said Thisbe. “More specifically, what is my motivation? And why do I go alone? I need to build my character.”

  “I’ll say,” Fifer said snidely.

  Dev snorted.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Thisbe said, then started laughing hopelessly again. “You’re awful. I was talking as an actor. I’m playing a role here.” A shadow crossed her face as she found herself questioning, Am I, though? She frowned and shoved the thought aside. Of course she was. But once again the niggling doubt was there on the edge of her mind. If she was more evil than good, would joining the Revinir and diving headfirst into this role, body and soul, unleash something inside Thisbe that she couldn’t control?

  “You’ll sneak away at night,” Fifer suggested. “Say you knew I wouldn’t come and you didn’t want me there anyway, being all judgmental about things.”

  Thisbe glanced sidelong at Fifer. “Tell the truth, you mean?” The snickers started up again, but this time they reined them in. “Yeah,” Thisbe continued, “I think that’s the best angle. And I can’t come across too strong or she’ll be suspicious. But I’ll want to surprise her with some sort of changed demeanor, because that will throw her off. Maybe I go there not quite having made the decision to join her, but revealing how obvious it is that she needs me, which would make me quite confident. And so I’d ask for something first before I say I’m willing to join her.”

  “Yes,” said Dev, looking up. “Ask for something big and be willing to settle for something less. Negotiate a bit.”

  “Like maybe tell her that if you join her as she wishes, she must agree to leave the seven islands alone. Well, I mean, she can have the Island of Graves.”

  “Heh,” said Thisbe, scribbling things down. “I like it, I like it.” Then she wrote, Too confident to negotiate? Play it out.

  “At the very least, perhaps the Revinir will agree not to bother Artimé,” Fifer said, with hope in her voice. “I’d really like to not have to worry about our island for a bit.”

  “I won’t give too much away,” Thisbe murmured, feeling the beginnings of her character forming. “She wants this partnership badly. And we have a lot of friends on other islands to protect.”

  “True,” said Fifer. “Use your instincts.”

  “And then once we strike a deal, you call in Florence.”

  “How will we know when it’s time?” asked Fifer. “I feel like sooner rather than too late is best.”

  “I’ll do a send spell to you with all the details.”

  Fifer’s stomach twisted as she imagined Thisbe in the castle with the Revinir, trying to activate a send spell without seeming suspicious. “That seems awfully risky. What if she sees it? Or if someone else does?”

  “Hmm…” Thisbe thought about that. “I don’t know. I mean, I won’t send one if it’s not perfectly safe.”

  Dev raised an eyebrow. “But then how will we know what’s going on? Do we sit here waiting and wondering? I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “You could look for Drock and try to have him deliver a message to us,” said Fifer.

  “That’s something,” said Dev, looking up. He wouldn’t mind seeing Drock again. He felt a special bond with him now that he’d had the dragon’s teeth implanted in his flesh… and they’d had a moment or two back in the cavelands when Drock had made him feel like he was really someone special.

  “I promise I’ll let you know what’s up somehow. Maybe if you don’t hear from me in a certain amount of time… you can just send for Florence anyway. And then… someone can drop Kitten into the castle to look for me?”

  Fifer frowned. It was way too convoluted. “This part of the plan needs work. Let’s figure it out later and move on for now.” She took a moment to reset her mind. “So, let’s recap. You get one of the dragons to take you to the Revinir in the night. You tell her that you decided to sneak away and do this thing because you didn’t trust me to go along with it. You ask for her to leave the seven islands alone in exchange for you joining up with her. After some amount of time we send for Florence. It’ll take them a few days to get here….” Fifer trailed off.

  “Then what?” said Dev. “I think Thisbe is just going to have to play things by ear. We won’t be able to respond to her without the Revinir getting suspicious. She could easily intercept a magical message.”

  “That’s scary, but I think Dev’s right,” said Thisbe. “I’m just going to have to move at whatever pace the Revinir wants to set. Meanwhile, you assemble the troops… where, exactly? Here? What about the red dragons?”

  “Hmm,” said Fifer. “They let Dev in.”

  “But they won’t let us out again, I’ll bet,” said Thisbe. “Unless we say we want to be taken to the Revinir. That’s the only way I can see them letting anyone go.”

  “Florence and the rest could assemble in the cavelands,” Dev suggested. “There’s lots of room out there.”

  “Okay, but if they’re not here in person, how do I tell them that Thisbe betrayed us?” asked Fifer. “I can’t possibly do that all by send components. It’s going to be a tricky conversation to have.”

  “But if they come here, the red dragons will attack and inform the Revinir that everyone arrived,” said Thisbe. She was starting to feel anxious again about the plan to lie to everyone about her loyalties. She got up and started limping around, then went to the fire to get it going for the evening.

  “That’s another thing we need to figure out,” said Fifer. She thought for a long moment. “Maybe it actually would be a good idea to use send components to tell Florence about Thisbe’s betrayal. That way we can be sketchy about the details, and when they bombard us with questions, we can take a minute to come up with answers.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

  “If you think that’ll work,” said Dev, sound
ing skeptical. “Won’t they just come barging over here if that happens? It’s kind of a big deal to tell them something like that.”

  “Not if I tell them not to,” said Fifer. “I’m the boss now.”

  Thisbe brought fire to her throat and slowly blew, lighting the kindling. The more she listened to Fifer and Dev talking about how they’d explain Thisbe’s betrayal, the more Rohan’s face popped into her head. It made her stomach hurt to think about it. She could hardly stand to make these plans. It was the most horrible thing she’d ever had to do… and after all she’d been through, that was saying something. Yet there was a tiny part of her that was thrilled to be playing this trick. Was that her evil side nudging her into this?

  “Let’s adjourn this meeting,” Thisbe said suddenly. “I think we’ve had enough for today. I…” She was about to say she changed her mind and wasn’t going to do this. That she couldn’t. That it was just too much—too hard. But the tiny thrill remained, and she swallowed the words. “I’m hungry,” she said weakly. “Let’s get out of here for a few minutes. Get some fresh air.”

  Fifer looked over at her, about to protest—they were just figuring out the important stuff. But then she saw the look on Thisbe’s face and sat up. “Yeah, okay,” she said kindly. “Let’s go fishing before it gets dark. We could all use a break.”

  Putting Things Together

  Artimé was full to the brim with people, but in a good way. Somehow bringing together willing fighters from Warbler, Karkinos, and the Island of Shipwrecks was working to unify the magical land in a way that might not have happened had they been left alone to heal and grow after the rift. Everyone gathered there had one purpose in mind: protecting the seven islands and helping the neighboring world. The grumblings from any remaining dissenters were drowned out by the camaraderie and enthusiasm that spread through the mansion and across the lawn.

  Florence began training the newcomers alongside the veterans, teaching magic to those who possessed abilities and combat to those who didn’t. Samheed, Lani, Seth, and Carina all assisted Florence in demonstrations and teaching beginning magic. Kaylee, Sky, Maiven, and Ishibashi taught nonmagical combat and, in their spare time, created more throwing stars and other small weapons. Rohan and his friends from Grimere assisted with the weapon making and grew stronger and more adept magically, too. And, after so many years of oppression in the catacombs, the black-eyed children were finally learning how to socialize.

  The mansion had been repaired after the civil war destruction, and now that everyone had arrived from the other islands, things began to settle down in Artimé. In the evenings after training there was time for everyone to relax and learn about each other. To keep their minds off of Thisbe and Fifer’s troubling absence, Rohan and Maiven and the other black-eyed people often sat and talked with new friends like Seth and his family, or Henry and Thatcher and their children.

  One evening Rohan, Maiven, and Asha met up with Seth, Henry, Ibrahim, and Clementi in the dining room for a late snack. Clementi, an Unwanted, and Asha, one of the black-eyed children, sat together, for the two were like long-lost friends from the instant they’d met during the civil war. Aaron wandered past, and Maiven urged him to join them, so he did.

  “I’ve been meaning to see you anyway,” said Aaron to his grandmother. “I was wondering if you would tell us more about… my mother. And how everything happened with her.” He glanced around, realizing a little too late that she might not want to talk about it in front of so many people. “Or would you prefer not to?”

  Maiven Taveer reached out and gave Aaron’s hand a squeeze. She smiled sadly. “I’ve come to terms with her death,” she said. “I’m willing to share what I know in case it brings peace to anyone who needs it. And perhaps you’d be willing to share what you know as well.”

  “Of course.”

  “Well,” said Maiven, shifting in her chair and dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin, “as most of you know, I was the queen of Grimere when the usurpers began their rise to power. A fine dragon named Suki was the ruler of the dragons, and she and I got along very well until her unfortunate death at the hands of the rebels.” She went on to give a short history lesson about that rogue group who took advantage of a strange natural disaster, the meteors, to seize control of Grimere. “I hid my daughter, Nadia, in the castle while I commanded the army to fight against this group, but the usurpers were clever. They kidnapped black-eyed children and used them to get to her. Then they forced the other children to deliver Nadia to the pirates, threatening to harm their parents if they didn’t comply. Before I could get to her, she was gone.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Rohan tersely. “And please excuse me for interrupting, but did you say that the other black-eyed children were forced to kidnap your daughter? They didn’t do it willingly?” His expression betrayed how important this detail was to him.

  Maiven studied him. “Yes, I’m sure of it. They were her friends. I knew most of them by sight if not by name, and I knew they wouldn’t do anything like that unless they were coerced or threatened, which all of those children were. Why do you ask?”

  Rohan seemed beside himself for a moment and couldn’t speak. Then he said quietly, “As you know, those of us who have taken the ancestor broth have experienced images pulsing through our minds. One of mine that I’ve been ashamed to tell you about is of my mother…” He paused to steady his voice. “My mother,” he continued, “as a young girl, helping to push Nadia onto the ship.”

  “I have an image like that too,” said Asha. “And so does Reza. We didn’t know what it meant. Are those our parents by the sea? And is the captured girl Maiven’s daughter?” She turned to Aaron. “She’s your mother?”

  Maiven reached out to Asha and Rohan. “Listen to me,” she said. “Your parents are not to blame for Nadia’s capture. That rests solely on the usurpers, especially the one who called himself king. Whatever the images show you… please believe that your ancestors are not at fault.”

  Rohan rested his face in his hands as he absorbed this new information. He’d been feeling bad about that scene in his mind ever since he’d first taken the ancestor broth. He knew the girl was Thisbe’s mother, and he felt terrible that his mother had done something so horrible to a fellow black-eyed person. He couldn’t fathom anyone betraying their people in such a terrible way, and he’d all but written his mother off as a traitor. But now… maybe she wasn’t as horrible as he’d thought. Perhaps he’d been too quick to judge based on that image and the foggy, conflicting memories of his childhood. He winced and looked up. “Thank you, Maiven,” he whispered, and sat back. “Please continue the story.”

  “There isn’t much to tell after that,” she said. “The pirates chained my daughter to their ship. My assistant tried to stop them. She screamed for me to come—I can still hear the awful echo of her voice in my head. My army ran with me, but we were too late. The ship sailed. I saw Nadia…” Maiven stopped and cleared her throat, then pressed a crooked forefinger to her lips for a moment before speaking again. “I saw her strain against the chains to look back at me. And then they were gone.” Everyone was quiet for a long moment as the queen collected herself.

  “We weren’t prepared for such a thing,” Maiven continued after a while. “I commanded my ships to organize. Within hours they were going after her, and I was preparing my own ship as well when the earthquake came and split the worlds. Our ships were lost in the gorge. But Nadia’s ship made it to this world.”

  “I wonder how she got to this island,” said Aaron. “The pirates wouldn’t have sold her to Quill—there’s no money system, and the High Priest Justine would’ve been too paranoid to intentionally bring strangers in. Frieda Stubbs told me once that my mother snuck in through a break in the wall while it was being repaired. Frieda’s neighbor in the Wanted quadrant must have felt some pity for her and taken her in.”

  “Maybe she escaped the ship,” said the queen. “We may never know the truth if she didn’t confi
de in anyone.”

  “Confiding in anyone would have been frowned upon in Quill,” Aaron said. “And punishable. I wonder if my father had a clue that he’d married a princess.”

  “What else can you tell me about her?” asked Maiven.

  “She was mostly quiet and reserved. But she seemed proud of me when I was declared Wanted,” Aaron said, “though she didn’t say anything about it. I could tell it in the way she helped me pack for university. The pride was in her touch. Her… step, I guess. Perhaps she lifted her head a bit higher after that. Glad that I’d be treated properly after what had happened to Alex, being Unwanted. I wonder…” He shook his head. “I wonder what went through her mind all that time. Stuck in Quill with no way to escape. Staying silent and living that oppressed life. Then having the girls and finding out they had her black eyes… That must have been so meaningful to her. We never knew any of it.” He looked at the black-eyed people gathered there. “No wonder she gave up her life to save them when the wall fell. She must have known they had an important future. And perhaps a way out that she couldn’t fathom for herself.”

  “She must have known we’d need them,” said Rohan reverently.

  “I wish I had more answers,” said Aaron. He thought about the wall coming down and the leadership changing, and how that must have given his mother hope all those years later. A new will to keep the girls alive so they could go back to her land. She’d never had the chance to tell them about it.

  Henry looked up, wearing a sanguine expression. “So many stories were lost in Quill forever. What a soul-sucking place it was.”

  Maiven’s eyes were glossed with unshed tears. “Thank you for telling me about her.”

  On that melancholy note, the party broke up, and most slipped away to their rooms. But Aaron headed upstairs to the kitchenette tube to go home to the Island of Shipwrecks for the night, which he could easily do. He was feeling an urgent longing to hold his wife and son, and to thank Ishibashi for believing in him.