by Lisa McMann
“That’s far enough.” Drock started to blow on Dev’s back and legs as he’d done before.
The air felt scorching to Dev, but somehow comforting, too. And healing, if that were possible. “Are you…?” He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep for a moment, enveloped in the warm, magical dragon breath.
“There,” said Drock after a few moments, startling Dev awake. “You’ll be feeling better soon.”
“How are you making me feel better?”
“I can heal the wounds I caused easily enough,” said Drock. He pulled back to take a good look at the boy and seemed satisfied. “When you’re ready to walk, there’s a cave nearby where you can find shelter. The river is there.” Drock pointed with his tail to some large, smooth rocks and a line of trees not far away.
Dev blinked. His mind, still fuzzy, was having a hard time putting together what was happening. Wasn’t Drock under the Revinir’s spell? “Aren’t you supposed to destroy me? Or eat me? The Revinir… the Revinir roared…”
“No, I won’t eat you,” said Drock. “And neither will the ghost dragons. They are the only ones you can trust.” He stepped away as if to signal his imminent departure.
“Wait,” said Dev, feeling desperate for answers. “What happened? I blacked out.”
The dark purple dragon glanced worriedly over his shoulder toward the edge of the forest, then looked back at Dev. “I’d heard you were summoned to the castle, so I was keeping an eye on you when I saw you approach on the back of one of the mind-controlled dragons. I was concerned when you didn’t leave, so I searched the castle exterior and discovered you in the tower. When the Revinir roared her command and threw you out of the window, I was circling below. I swooped in and caught you. And I carried you here to the cavelands.”
Dev shook his head slightly. It was hard to imagine how he’d been lucky enough to survive. Luck didn’t usually come his way.
Drock went on. “You’ll be safer here than anywhere else, at least for a while. The ghost dragons will take care of you if they remember you’re here—you must remind them if you need anything. But I know you are capable of caring for yourself once you’re up and on your feet. Though,” he continued, holding his face close to Dev, “there’s an injury I can’t heal inside your chest.”
“My cracked ribs,” said Dev.
Drock lifted his head and looked into Dev’s eyes with sympathy. “Perhaps that’s it.” He edged a few steps away. “I recommend you stay here. Don’t return to Grimere.”
Gingerly Dev pushed himself up to sitting and took shallow breaths. “You’re not under her spell.”
“No.”
“Why doesn’t she affect you?”
“She does. Just not as much as she affects the others.” Drock glanced over his shoulder again and sniffed the air, then settled down on his haunches as the two ghost dragons who’d been there earlier wandered by. “I am in control of my mind so far, though I’ve been pretending to heed her call for my own safety. And for Thisbe’s. And… now yours.”
“So, go back to that,” said Dev, his mind clearing a bit. “You saved me… intentionally? Me?”
Drock tilted his head and studied the boy. “Yes, Dev,” he said quietly. “I told you I had my eye on you. To save you if I could. With the others gone, I knew you’d take the brunt of the Revinir’s wrath. And she’s going to continue to be very angry once she finds out she’ll never legitimately rule this land. So I’m going to do what I can to help you.”
Perhaps it was the intense trauma he’d endured, or the rare bit of warmth in Drock’s voice that caused Dev’s chest to tighten and his face to convulse. A tear leaked from his eye, then a small stream of them. He coughed and choked and curled up in a failed attempt to hold everything in and keep the pain from killing him. After a moment he caught the emotion back up inside him and wiped his tears on his ragged, bloodstained sleeve. Then he whispered, “Why would you do that?”
Drock seemed taken aback by the question. He lowered his chin to the ground to align with Dev’s gaze, and the two faced each other on the rolling hill for a long moment. “Because you’re on your own, like me,” he said. “And because you deserve to be saved.”
Surprise Attack
Two by two, the teens and adults and statues who could fit into the jungle tube went inside, pressed a button, and disappeared. Even Sky went along, though she’d be stuck in the secret hallway, unable to go out with the others who were magical enough to see the exit to the balcony. But she could at least get the scoop for Florence and report back, since the Magical Warrior trainer was too large for the tube.
Soon only Florence remained to watch Ava and Lukas in the jungle and anxiously await Sky’s report. While she waited, she consulted with Panther and the rock about what was happening in Artimé, giving them a little more background on the events that had led to Frieda and the dissenters’ rise to power.
The others arrived via the tube to the slightly secret hallway kitchenette, which was across from the head mage’s office. Like most people in Artimé, Frieda Stubbs couldn’t access anything in that hallway, which gave this minority group some wry satisfaction in this dark time.
They filtered out of the kitchenette into the hallway and grew somber as they crossed over it and stepped into the office. It had hardly been touched since Alex’s departure to the land of the dragons. The desk held two neat piles of books and a stack of papers that had belonged to the former head mage. No one had been able to bear clearing things off since his death. Sky’s face was drawn as she remained by the door and peered at Alex’s things while watching the others mill around.
Fifer touched Sky’s arm, and Sky gave Fifer a small smile. “Shall we start by gathering components?” Fifer asked, leading her a few steps inside the office. “I know where some are.”
Sky swallowed hard and nodded. “I can bring the extras back to Florence,” she said, pointing to the deflated rucksack on her back. Her eyes strayed to Alex’s desk.
“Great,” said Fifer. She hesitated, eyes filling, then blinked hard and continued a few steps farther into the room and looked around. Sky followed. Everyone was quiet in the absence of their great former leader, missing him even more now. What would he do in this situation? Certainly he would fight for the mansion, to preserve Artimé—there was no doubt about that. They all knew it. They moved with purpose, but each one paused here or there, by the desk or a chair, or near Alex’s beloved, haphazardly piled books and artwork from his earlier years. Remembering their friend.
“Did Alex ever draw a 3-D door to the theater?” asked Samheed.
“No,” said Lani. “He didn’t need to. We always used the one Ms. Octavia drew.”
“And now Frieda has stolen it,” said Ms. Octavia passionately, her glasses bobbling as she wrinkled up her alligator snout. “Technically it’s my property.”
“We’ll get it back,” said Aaron. “I promise.”
Ms. Octavia folded two of her octopus arms over her chest and muttered something under her breath. They all began to gather up everything useful they could carry in their packs, for they weren’t sure when they’d return… if ever.
Fifer felt a pang cross through her, thinking Thisbe might never have the chance to see this. She closed her eyes. Things were so unsettled with Thisbe. Would Fifer’s twin ever come back? Was she okay? As focused as Fifer was on this task, her mind strayed to the fights and misunderstandings between her and Thisbe. Things were bad, but Fifer felt powerless to do anything. It seemed like Thisbe was the one being distant after she sneaked off without telling anyone but Aaron.
When they finished in the office, Lani took the lead, rolling down the hallway in the direction of the mansion’s balcony, which overlooked the entryway. “Did Alex leave an extra robe up here anywhere? We might want to take possession of it before someone else does.”
“Yes,” said Fifer. “Florence told me there’s one hanging in his living quarters.”
“Good to know. Alex stored even more c
omponents in there. I suppose we’ll have to go in after them.” Lani’s expression was grim. Going into the office was one thing, but entering Alex’s personal apartment felt so… invasive. And sad. Lani had kept her emotions in check so far, because of the severity of the task before them, but this wasn’t going to be easy.
Lani stopped in front of Alex’s door and peered out toward the main mansion, looking for any sign of Frieda or the dissenters. “Be careful not to get too close to the balcony,” Lani said over her shoulder. “I’m not sure if anyone in Frieda’s group is magical enough to see into this hallway, but if they are, we don’t want them to know we’re coming.” She hesitated, then added, “I really wish Florence were here. I’m worried we’re not going to make much of a splash without someone big on our side.”
Aaron frowned. “We’ll do what we can. Attack to let them know we won’t go quietly, then retreat to the jungle to plan our next move. All we need to do right now is let Frieda know she’s not going to take over unopposed. And hopefully bring some of the more reasonable people back to reality and open their eyes to what’s happening.” He glanced across the hall from Alex’s apartment at the door to the Museum of Large. While Lani went into the living quarters with Samheed, Carina, and Sean, Aaron touched Fifer’s shoulder. “I can’t stand to go in there just yet,” he said to her in a low voice. “Let’s check something out in here.”
Fifer nodded, relieved to not have to enter Alex’s room and experience all the sadness there. She followed Aaron. The Museum of Large was a lovely storage place. True to its name, it housed large things that couldn’t fit anywhere else, like the gray shack that was now reassembled after it had exploded, as well as Mr. Today’s personal library, which Lani had painstakingly organized once Artimé was finally at peace. A pirate ship rested nearby too—Alex had put one up here as a spare, a precaution in case their other ships were ever stolen or sunk by enemies in the future. He’d prepared them for almost everything imaginable except his death.
Once inside, Aaron headed for the gray shack while Fifer searched the room for weapons and spell components. Finding neither, she stopped in front of a large frozen statue of a mastodon. His name was Ol’ Tater, and he was the only frozen statue in Artimé because he was so destructive and dangerous. Mr. Today had created him many decades ago but sadly had to put him to sleep and keep him in the Museum of Large. The beast occasionally came to life—sometimes by accident when the world was restored after a head mage’s death. Other times he could be awakened when Artimé needed him, as when the pirates and Queen Eagala had attacked the island of Quill when Fifer and Thisbe were two years old. To put him back to sleep, one needed to perform a singing spell.
“We could definitely make a statement with Ol’ Tater,” Fifer remarked to Aaron when he started heading back to the hallway.
“That thought crossed my mind.” Aaron paused. “He’s so unpredictable, though.”
“True,” Fifer admitted. “He could come after us—that’s the last thing we need.”
They exited the museum to find Lani and the others finished in Alex’s living quarters and tiptoeing toward the balcony.
“Is anyone there?” Fifer whispered, catching up to Lani.
“Not lingering outside the hallway,” Lani said. “It looks like they’re all downstairs at the windows and doors, looking for us.”
“This is our best chance to surprise them,” said Aaron. “Let’s talk strategy.”
The group sketched out a plan of attack while Lani divvied up the spell components she’d gathered from Alex’s apartment. She handed Alex’s extra robe to Sky. “Can you bring this back to Florence?”
Sky took it. She shook out the wrinkles, then lovingly folded it. She held it to her chest and crossed her arms over it. “I wonder if the best place to keep this is in Florence’s quiver,” she mused. “That way we’ll always know where to find it, even if Florence gets frozen. And Frieda won’t think to look there.”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” Fifer said, and the others nodded.
Sky gave them an encouraging smile. “I’ll watch you all go, then head back to give Florence a report.”
Lani nodded and looked at Aaron. “Are you ready?”
Aaron nodded. “Is everyone clear on the plan?”
The group expressed their affirmation. Aaron and Fifer led them to the opening.
To Sky, it appeared like they were all standing up against a solid wall. But she’d been up here before, and she knew they didn’t see it—they could walk right through it as if it wasn’t there.
On Aaron’s command, with Fifer and Lani right beside, they slipped through the wall and disappeared. When everyone was gone, Sky pressed her ear to the wall, but she could hear nothing. Then she stepped away quickly, realizing anyone with the magical ability to see the hallway would be able to see her, too.
After a moment, she retreated to the kitchenette. Still carrying the robe and her now-bulging rucksack full of components, she entered the tube and pressed the button that would take her back to the jungle.
It would be quite some time before she and Florence discovered what happened next.
A Critical Mistake
Fifer, Aaron, and Lani burst through what looked like a mirror to most of the people on the other side of the not-really-a-secret-anymore hallway. The rest of their team was right behind, and before the dissenters could react, Fifer and the others began to fire spells over the bannister. After the first round left several dissenters flattened, frozen, or pinned to the wall, Fifer and Aaron charged halfway down the stairs yelling “Run!” and “Get out of the mansion, quickly!” to try to confuse Frieda’s followers. Some of them didn’t hesitate to leap out of the broken windows and through the doors.
Others in the surprise-attack group followed to back up the leaders, firing spells as they went.
Fifer didn’t see Frieda Stubbs, but one of Frieda’s top dissenters was surprisingly quick to react. “There they are!” she shouted. “On the stairs! Get them!” She fired freeze spells, and the rest began doing the same, some of them rushing all together to barricade the bottom of the stairs so Aaron’s group couldn’t advance. Florence had taught them well.
Aaron and Fifer dodged the first round and fired more spells as they pressed forward, using the parts of the railings that still stood as cover. But Frieda’s people swarmed the main floor around the stairs, finding the open spaces and taking aim. Right behind Fifer, Carina was hit by a freeze spell, and she fell into Aaron, knocking him off balance. Then Samheed and Sean were hit, and they tumbled down a few steps. Fifer darted and scrambled to release the spells so her teammates could continue fighting, but as soon as she released them, they were struck by more. Then she was hit by scatterclips and went flying back, stacking Carina and Ms. Octavia behind her, all three sailing to the balcony and sticking to the wall between the girls’ and boys’ hallways. Seth quickly ran up and released them; then he, Fifer, and Carina charged down the stairs again, firing spells as they went.
Ms. Octavia descended a few steps but preferred to stay near the top of the staircase so that she could employ all eight of her tentacles in various directions. Two or three tentacles she used to power herself forward and dodge the flying components. With the rest she sent clay shackles and various confusion spells down the stairs on both sides.
More dissenters came together at the bottom of the staircase, making an impenetrable mass. Soon they began to climb, forcing Aaron and Fifer to retreat in order to find new cover in the curve of the bannisters. Other dissenters emerged from the various classrooms on the main floor and forced the attacking party to retreat up the steps even more.
Just as Fifer was about to call her people to retreat and escape back down the secret hallway to the jungle, a group of dissenters, with Frieda Stubbs among them, flowed out from the second-floor living quarters onto the balcony. They blockaded the top of the steps, trapping the attackers on the stairs.
To Fifer’s chagrin, she and her team were
stuck in the kind of trap Florence had warned them about time and again. But this was the first time they’d actually fought against people who were also trained by her. All they could do was fight their way out of it. Spell components filled the air like a bizarre and colorful blizzard. People and statues dropped left and right. The scramble to release the spells was equally dangerous as fighting, for taking one’s eyes off their foes, even for a split second, could mean death if a dissenter chose to use a lethal spell. Fifer knew Frieda could try to put an end to her or Aaron at any second.
Now fully surrounding Fifer and Aaron’s team, the dissenters worked together to send dozens more freeze spells at them. There was no place to run or hide, and several in Fifer’s group were hit. One spell whizzed by Fifer’s ear and struck Aaron. He froze on the spot and tumbled down the stairs, and others were hit and piled on top of him.
“Aaron!” Fifer cried out, and dove down after him, firing more components with one hand. She released the spell on him and squirmed again to avoid another wave of airborne components. Aaron revived, then was immediately hit again.
“No!” screamed Fifer. It was hopeless. Fifer whirled around and saw that she and Seth were the last ones standing, and the parties at the top and bottom of the stairs were advancing toward them. Seth and Fifer exchanged a frightened glance as they both realized just how much trouble they were in. As others of their party, all frozen, slid and tumbled down the stairs, Fifer abandoned her attempt to release the spells and instead let out a loud shriek.
Frieda and the dissenters paused to cover their heads, but all the glass in the entire mansion was already broken. Instead, flocks of red-and-purple falcons came soaring in through the windows. Shimmer and a few others carried the hammock by its ropes. Seth took the momentary reprieve to release spells on Carina, Sean, and Ms. Octavia, but as soon as he finished, more components came soaring at them again.
