Dragon Slayers

by Lisa McMann

  Thisbe reeled. She turned and grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. This was horrifying. So much worse than she could’ve imagined it. How could she go on after this was over? How could she keep pretending?

  But she had to for his sake. This was so much bigger than Thisbe and Rohan. This was two worlds on the edge of disaster.

  Thisbe stumbled to her balcony and opened the doors. She stood for a second as the cool night breeze caressed her face, and she looked for Quince but didn’t see him. “You need to escape,” she said softly. Then she sucked in a breath and turned, hoping her voice had been lost in the wind, because she couldn’t have him repeat that to the Revinir. “Rohan,” she said in a formal voice, “my good servant, I think you should sleep outside on the balcony and watch for the fog rolling in.” She paused. “I’ll come up with… I mean, I’ll explain your disappearance to the Revinir.”

  “What? No way.”

  “Rohan,” Thisbe said, her voice catching. She pointed to the balcony. “Go.”

  Rohan stopped pacing. The look of hurt and despair on his face said everything. He stood for a long moment, then picked up his rucksack and walked to the balcony. At the doorway he paused to look at Thisbe. His black eyes shone from tears and starlight. “So this is over?”

  Everything in Thisbe’s mind screamed “No!” She could hardly hold herself together. But the words that came out of her mouth were the last words she’d ever wanted to say in her entire life to the boy standing next to her. “It’s over.”

  Rohan bowed his head. Then he went outside and dropped heavily into the lounge chair. His rucksack spilled open, and he didn’t bother to pick the items up.

  Thisbe’s tears welled up. She gazed at him for one last moment, all the sorrow of the world building a permanent home inside her. Then she closed the doors.

  Grasping Blindly

  Thisbe took her hands from the doorknobs and stumbled backward, falling half onto the bed and sliding to the floor. The sobs rushed out in horrible waves. She didn’t care if anyone could hear her. She didn’t care about anything anymore. She’d just said good-bye to Rohan, sending him away, explaining nothing for fear of the truth getting to the Revinir’s ears in a nefarious way. And even though she still had a tiny bit of hope that her relationship could be repaired someday, chances were growing every day that there was no coming back from this. Thisbe was causing too much damage.

  If Rohan’s reaction was this bad, how would Thisbe face everyone else? One by one they’d want to have this same conversation. They would be so disappointed in her. This had been the worst, but it was just a hint at how it was going to go. All the hurt looks, all the spite… the anger, the tears. It was way too much for Thisbe to handle. She realized that now. She had to act before anyone else could confront her. Including the Revinir, because how was Thisbe supposed to explain Rohan’s disappearance without causing the dragon-woman’s suspicion to flare up again? There was no way to do it—it had been a stupid mistake to force Rohan to leave. But she couldn’t bear to have him around after what had just happened. Was there any method she could come up with that would allow her to tell him the truth but still keep him safe?

  There was only one way. She had to take out the Revinir now. There would be no declaration, no more “growing closer” to put Thisbe in the best position to get the Revinir alone. It had to happen immediately, and it might even have to be messy. Thisbe needed to get her alone and do the deed.

  Taking an obliterate spell out of her vest and the pebble from its box, Thisbe wiped her eyes and went out into the hallway. If the Revinir was anywhere she could access, she was going down. Right this moment.

  Thisbe stalked the hallways. Peered into rooms on her way to where she’d last seen the Revinir. But the ballroom was empty, the balcony vacant. The Revinir had gone to her living quarters for the night, surrounded by guards.

  Thisbe entered the Revinir’s hallway and saw the small army standing there. She stopped and watched them for a moment, contemplating, rolling the pebble between her fingers. Then she turned and, with a heavy heart, went back to her room.

  Brokenhearted

  Thisbe replaced the obliterate pebble and put it safely away in her vest pocket. She fell on the bed and tossed and turned almost feverishly until sleep came.

  When she woke, a feeling of dread overcame her again. Tears spilled down into her hair, and another wave of sobs came. She’d never been so devastated in all her life. Her conviction wavered. Fifer had no idea how hard this was—wouldn’t she understand if Thisbe’s will caved? Because none of this was worth what she’d had to do to Rohan.

  She cringed. Yes, okay, it was worth it for the sake of the worlds. For the greater good. For all of the other people. Just… not for Thisbe. She couldn’t imagine offering up a greater sacrifice than this. Having no one realize it for what it was made it all the more difficult. That’s why this had to end soon. She would take whatever reasonable risks she had to take. But she was glad she hadn’t made an impulsive move last night. With so many servants around, it could have backfired terribly.

  But how could she do it? Thisbe thought about the Revinir as Emma, the little girl who felt betrayed by her older siblings. She thought about how the Revinir had shared a little piece of herself with Thisbe earlier. It had been so strange to realize that the Revinir had feelings.

  At first Thisbe had thought of her as one-dimensionally evil, but she’d learned that the dragon-woman went deeper than that. Still, it wouldn’t be hard for Thisbe to put an end to her. She’d done some of the most heinous things Thisbe had ever heard of.

  Perhaps there really was a way to slay the dragon-woman while she was in the ballroom—on the balcony. The impact could rip apart that area of the castle, so it would be risky. And a couple of servants could go down with her, because there was always someone standing nearby to address the Revinir’s whims. That would be a shame, but this really couldn’t go on any longer.

  Thisbe wiped her eyes and got out of bed. She cleaned up and got ready. And then, with a start, she realized that she was currently without a servant’s watchful eye over her, and she had a near-perfect opportunity to send a message to Fifer. She pulled out the component and wrote:

  Fife,

  Things will have to happen soon. Alert the troops.

  Thiz

  She wanted to write more. She wanted to pour her heart out to one of the two people who actually knew what she was doing. But she couldn’t risk it. A wave of emotion passed over her again, but she didn’t have any tears left. Would Fifer even understand her pain? She was probably living large in the palace with Dev, having a grand time.

  As she turned to go to the balcony, a shadow passed in front of the glass doors, followed by a quiet knock.

  Thisbe’s heart sank. Was Rohan still out there? Didn’t he get that they had ended everything? A lump rose to her throat at the same time the truth came crashing around her. He was still here. Quince hadn’t come for him. She had to stay strong. She went to the doors, took a deep breath, and opened them.

  Backlit by a pink morning sky, Rohan stood there, ragged, with tears streaming down his face. In one hand he held his rucksack.

  “Rohan,” Thisbe whispered. “What are you still doing here?” His tears made her weak.

  He caught her gaze and held it. “I figured it out.”

  Thisbe swallowed hard. “You… What?”

  “I figured out what you’re doing,” he said. “Seth thought that maybe… and then me drinking the broth…” He shook his head—it was too much to explain right now. “Never mind that.” His haggard face held a hint of warmth. “I have an idea.”

  Coming Together

  Thisbe dropped the send component she’d been holding. Rohan picked it up and handed it to her. She hesitated, then stepped aside to let him in. “Explain,” she said quietly, trying to sound cool and collected but failing miserably. She pocketed the component. “There’s nothing to figure out. I don’t… I don’t know what you m
ean.”

  “Yes, you do.” Rohan came inside and closed the balcony door. Then he turned back to Thisbe and clasped his hands in front of him. “I get it now. I just can’t believe it.”

  “Rohan, we’ve been over this.”

  “No, no, no. Not this. Not you making a crazy decision out of nowhere to join ranks with a monster. Because I cannot believe you have that in you, no matter how much you insist otherwise. You can’t convince me that I don’t know you, because I do.” He ripped his hand through his hair, impassioned. “Look. I sat on this balcony freezing all night, and I finally figured out what you’re doing.”

  “Well, what am I doing, then?” Thisbe demanded. He couldn’t possibly have guessed.

  “You can’t tell anyone the truth,” Rohan said, watching her face closely, “because of exactly what just happened to me with the dragon-bone broth.”

  Thisbe felt the blood drain from her face. She said nothing.

  Rohan, encouraged by her silence, continued his theory. “You can’t tell me what you’re doing because I’m vulnerable. Just like any of us. If we are forced to drink that dragon-bone broth, we could give away the secret. And Fifer is in on it. Seth was right. Why doesn’t anyone listen to him?”

  Thisbe held up her hands. “What secret?” she said weakly, feeling like she ought to keep the plan going if possible. Maybe Rohan was all wrong.

  Rohan spoke in a soft voice. “You’re faking it. You’re pretending to join with the Revinir.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Thisbe said wearily. “Why would I do that?”

  “So you can kill her.”

  Thisbe took in a sharp breath. The earnest, eager look in Rohan’s eye seemed an odd contrast to the tears still drying on his cheeks. Thisbe wasn’t sure how he’d figured it out, but it was true he knew her best of anyone. And he kept going on about Seth, who was right up there. It wasn’t too surprising that between them, they’d figured this out.

  She dropped her gaze and turned away to hide her confusion. She needed to think this through. How would his knowledge of this affect him if he ended up being truly compromised later? Would her refusal to confirm it help save him if something awful happened? If Rohan thought he knew what she was doing, and he actually got it right, was there still a way to protect him from the Revinir in case she fed him more broth? This was getting way too confusing.

  “Thisbe,” Rohan said, his voice pleading. “Please say something. I’m delirious with exhaustion and sorrow. But I know I’m right. I have to be. Or else I have to question every truth I’ve ever known.”

  “No,” Thisbe lied, because she didn’t know what else to do. “I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. I really do just want to be like the Revinir.” But she couldn’t get herself to make him leave again. She’d lost her stamina. She dropped onto the foot of her bed and sat there feeling thickheaded with all the questions swimming around. She didn’t know the answer to anything.

  Rohan narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying again. But I get it. You can only say things that are safe for me to repeat in case I get mind controlled.” He stepped toward her, then dropped to one knee. “Listen to me, Thisbe. Please. I have a solution that should satisfy you and make you feel better about telling me the truth.”

  Thisbe glanced at him. “What is it?”

  Rohan opened his rucksack. He reached inside and pulled out a handful of vials. “Prindi took these, remember? When we all escaped the catacombs together. It’s ancestor broth.”

  Thisbe sat up straighter. Sure enough, it was the deep, rich, golden-colored liquid with bits of herbs floating inside. She remembered now, shoving that sack of them at Prindi. Thisbe’s mind began to whir. “I forgot we had them.”

  “Well, I didn’t. And I brought them along purposely because I know how sneaky the Revinir is.”

  “And?” Thisbe began to figure out his plan, but she was still so hesitant. She didn’t want to say anything that could cause problems later.

  “And I can drink as many of these as you want me to.”

  Thisbe closed her eyes as pain and hope swirled together inside her. “Why, though?” she whispered, even though she knew the answer.

  Rohan could tell she was struggling mightily and explained the obvious. “To cover against any accidental or forced ingestion of the dragon-bone broth. And this way I can stay here and keep playing your servant, and I can help you if you need it.” Rohan hesitated, looking terribly aggrieved. “But please, will you acknowledge that this is what you’re doing? Because if it’s not, I’m going to lose my mind. Please, Thisbe. I… Just please say it!”

  Thisbe opened her eyes and looked at Rohan, her chin trembling. It was the thing she wanted more than anything—to have Rohan know and understand what she was doing. To have him accept her and forgive her for the anguish she’d caused. But everything was so confusing, and she couldn’t think it all through. Was there anything that could happen to him now if she admitted to everything? He already had his guesses. And he had the ancestor broth. It seemed useless to carry on with the lies now that he knew that’s what they were.

  Before she could answer, there was a thumping noise growing louder in the hallway, followed by a hard knock at the door. Thisbe panicked. She shoved the vials of broth into Rohan’s bag and chucked it under the bed. “Act like a servant,” she hissed. Then she went to the door and opened it a crack.

  The Revinir pushed the door open wide and seemed surprised to see Rohan standing there, methodically folding Thisbe’s sweater.

  “What’s going on?” Thisbe asked, trying to breathe normally.

  The Revinir lifted her snout. “I heard a rumor from some dragons that Rohan had escaped from your balcony. I thought that sounded awfully suspect, since humans under my mind control would never think to do such a thing.”

  Thisbe frowned. “Escaped? Obviously not. But I did make him sleep on the balcony.” She tapped her lips. “Hmm. Perhaps that was part of the confusion? They saw him out there, and then he was gone, so they made the wrong assumption?”

  Rohan finished with the sweater, then stood still and gazed at the wall next to where the Revinir stood.

  The Revinir eyed him suspiciously. “He doesn’t look very well rested.”

  “I suppose it was a bit chilly,” Thisbe said agreeably. “Maybe tonight I’ll give him a blanket.”

  The Revinir laughed. “He’s survived worse.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” Thisbe said, laughing too, though she wanted to punch the dragon-woman in the snout.

  “All right,” the Revinir said. “Well, breakfast is being served in the ballroom, Thisbe, so come along with me. Rohan, you can get your gruel in the kitchen. It’s one floor down from here.”

  “Great,” said Thisbe, forcing herself not to look at Rohan even though everything between them was up in the air.

  The dragon-woman turned around in the hallway, thumping against the walls and knocking artwork off them. Before Thisbe followed her, she flashed Rohan a stressed-out look. She wanted to warn him not to eat or drink anything until he’d taken some of the ancestor broth to act against any sabotage the Revinir had planned. But Thisbe had no way to do so without setting off alarm bells in the Revinir’s head. So they parted ways, not sure what to expect for the day.

  Thisbe had never been more determined to use her obliterate component at the first opportunity. But she also needed her Artiméan army to come as backup just in case a war broke out because of it. With a sinking heart, Thisbe realized the message to Fifer was still in her pocket, unsent.

  Confusion in the Cavelands

  Maiven Taveer and Quince returned to the cavelands to a million questions, mainly about Rohan’s whereabouts. Maiven stayed on Quince’s back and raised her hand in the air for silence. Then she explained.

  “Rohan and I were able to listen in on a conversation between the Revinir and Thisbe,” Maiven said. “It seems our worst fears are confirmed. Thisbe is all in with the Revinir, and they are planning some sort of takeover.”
She lifted her chin. “Rohan was discovered and seized by the Revinir. He’s inside the castle. As he was being captured, he told Quince and me not to wait for him. If he isn’t immediately imprisoned, I believe he will do his best to try to reach Thisbe on a different level, to talk to her and find out what is prompting this treasonous action.” She paused for breath. “If there is anyone who can get through to her after so much has happened, after Fifer herself has failed, I believe Rohan is the one. And so Quince and I left to report back to you as we assured you we would do.”

  She turned to Simber. “And now I’d like to meet with Simber and Aaron in my cave. And Ishibashi, too, if you please.” The queen had taken a liking to Ishibashi’s intelligence and calm manner, and she appreciated his insight.

  Maiven descended the ghost dragon in a style that was uniquely hers, by sliding down the dragon’s tail, holding her military swagger stick in one hand and a sword in the other for balance. She went to the river first to clean up from her journey. Then she found Simber, Ishibashi, and Aaron waiting at her cave.

  “Things seem dire,” Maiven said in greeting.

  “Indeed,” said Ishibashi. “This is very serious.”

  Aaron shook his head in disbelief. He’d been hoping for good news. But it sounded like Thisbe had truly gone to the evil side. Is this how people had felt when he’d done the same thing? Because it was excruciating. He had a sudden wave of regret when he thought about Alex, who’d never given up on him, even in the darkest times. How he missed his brother! The thought of never seeing him again was too much to take. If only he could have a moment with him now.

  Aaron glanced at Ishibashi. The man had stuck by him as well when he needed a parental figure in his life. It seemed Aaron needed to step into that role now, with Thisbe. It didn’t matter anymore what people thought of him. He needed to be the person who believed in Thisbe when everyone else wrote her off. To be there for her when no one else trusted her.