Dragon Fire

by Lisa McMann

Fifer ignored her. “Dancing is… well… encouraged. Unless you’re me.” She laughed a little too hard, from exhaustion but also remembering her fight with Seth at the last ball. “Never mind about that.”

  Thisbe shot Rohan an amused look. “I’ll tell you all about it later,” she said.

  “Yes, later,” said Fifer. “Please don’t recount it in front of me.” It still bothered her a little. She’d felt pretty isolated and purposeless for a while. But that was quickly changing. She had almost too much responsibility now. “Where is Seth, anyway?”

  “He’s been a bit scarce,” Thisbe said. “But he joined us in training the last few days. I think he wanted to get a little refresher course.”

  “I need to talk to Florence about starting up a session for other mages feeling the same way,” Fifer mumbled. She was too tired to move now. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

  “What’s the occasion for that?” asked Rohan. “Is it common practice for the skilled mages to train randomly?”

  Fifer sat up. “We do refresher sessions now and then, but especially when we anticipate any sort of unrest.” Her mind felt suddenly weary too. “Like… with you and the land of the dragons. Florence and I want to be able to help you. When the time comes, I mean.” Hopefully, Fifer would have plenty of time to get things in order here and rejuvenate first. A year or two sounded about right. She couldn’t stand the thought of leaving again so soon.

  “Really? Is that right?” Rohan seemed extraordinarily moved by the sentiment.

  “I told you,” Thisbe said to him. She leaned in and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Our people care about this situation. They’re going to help us when we go back.”

  “Um, right.” Fifer gave a wan smile. She hadn’t exactly agreed to help them that soon. But they would cross that bridge when they came to it. She was just becoming friends again with Thisbe and didn’t want to jeopardize that, especially while things were still a bit shaky between them.

  “That’s very generous,” Rohan said. “Especially after what you’ve been through. We’re so grateful for your help. Truly.”

  “Mmm. No problem,” Fifer said. She was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed. And then she added weakly, “After all, you just helped save Artimé, and we couldn’t have done it without your team. It’s… the least we can do.” But Fifer could feel a weight pressing inside her chest at the thought of one more wearying journey and dangerous fight to add to her list of things to do. She couldn’t stand to think about it now. Not when this job was so new and Artimé still so fragile. It was all too much to handle.

  Growing in Power

  Once things began to resemble normalcy in Artimé, Kaylee and Ishibashi went back to the Island of Shipwrecks. Aaron finished his work on the tube control panels and, with a little magic, repaired the three main tubes and got everything running smoothly again to the remote rooms.

  Lani, Fifer, and Simber found Kitten so they could make another attempt at figuring out Mr. Today’s clue. As they ascended the stairs, the three of them who weren’t Kitten recollected that she had five lives remaining. But Kitten insisted it was only four. And though the others couldn’t come up with one of the instances of her death, they took her word for it—perhaps she’d been crushed at some point alone with no one else around to notice.

  In the secret hallway Kitten showed the others where to find the tiny clue on the door, which was indeed the one on the head-mage-apartment side of the secret hallway. As it turned out, only Kitten could open it with a mew spell. She did so, and Fifer swung the door wide. Inside was a small vestibule with magical panels labeled THEATER, LIBRARY, and LOUNGE. “Well, what do you know,” said Lani. Merely pressing a button next to each made the panels melt away and allowed one to step directly into the remote room.

  Fifer, Lani, and Kitten went into the lounge via this method and noted that the placement of the secret panel was on the back wall by the band stage. They searched the area around the panel and discovered a tiny nub of a button that blended into the paneling, situated above eye level. No one had ever noticed it before. All they had to do was tap it to open and close it. “I can’t believe this was here all along,” Lani exclaimed. “We sat down here for days, and that button was there all this time. It’s maddening! We should tell several key people about it so they know it’s an emergency exit.”

  “I’m not so sure I want to do that,” said Fifer. “I can see the reason why Mr. Today kept this a secret. It would allow anyone who knows about the panels to access the secret hallway, even if they aren’t magical enough to enter it from the balcony. That could be dangerous.”

  “Hmm,” said Lani. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. But at least a few of us know now. That should be enough to prevent a disaster in the future.”

  The three of them went on to find the doors in the other two rooms and locate the tiny buttons. Then they returned to the secret hallway, where Simber was waiting. “Do we need to keep this main door to the alcove locked magically?” Lani mused. “It would be annoying to require Kitten’s presence in order to open it. I recall Mr. Today used to carry Kitten in his pocket in the early days, so it made sense for him. But maybe it’s not a problem, since we won’t need it often.”

  Fifer considered the options. “While it would be easier to remove this alcove door completely, I trust Mr. Today’s original intentions. And I want to preserve the traits of the secret hallway as much as possible. Kitten is usually pretty easy to find.”

  “All fair points,” agreed Lani. “We’ll keep this new information close.”

  “Kitten,” Fifer instructed, “please use your best instincts when deciding whether to open this door. I trust you.”

  “Mewmewmew,” said Kitten.

  With that settled, Lani turned to Fifer. “What’s next on your list?”

  “I need to locate an extra head mage robe to keep in Florence’s quiver. That worked so well as a storage place.”

  “I know exactly where Frieda’s robe ended up,” said Lani. “Let’s go knock this one out too.”

  * * *

  While Fifer was slowly crossing off tasks on her New Head Mage List of Things to Do, Seth, Ibrahim, and Clementi joined Thisbe and the others from Grimere on the lawn every day to learn from Florence. Sometimes Carina and Samheed participated too, as well as Sean, Scarlet, and Thatcher. Even Henry sat in on a few trainings when he wasn’t busy in the hospital ward.

  The black-eyed team trained physically and magically, honed their weapon skills, and grew stronger. They worked harder than they’d ever worked before, knowing the future of the land of the dragons was in their hands, and it could slip through their fingers if they didn’t do this right. Getting their land back was up to them. And if they didn’t succeed, they would not only be failing themselves as leaders, but they’d be failing a nation of people and a league of ghost dragons who were waiting to die. Everything rested on their ability to take down the Revinir for good. “We have one shot,” Thisbe announced, and she reminded them of it daily. It became the mantra of her people. One chance to get it right.

  In the evenings, Seth and Rohan worked together to teach Artiméans and those from Grimere to speak the other land’s language. Thisbe and Fifer often sat in together to absorb this knowledge, and before long the groups were communicating much better than before.

  * * *

  One morning Florence took Thisbe aside. “I want you to have these,” Florence said, and handed her four tiny boxes that fit easily in the palm of Thisbe’s hand. “These are obliterate spell components,” she said. “They are individually packaged for safety’s sake.” She trained Thisbe on how to use them, and how not to. “We’ll use one for practice,” she said. “The rest are for you, and you only. Understand?”

  Thisbe understood.

  Then Florence and Thisbe took a day trip out to sea in one of the pirate ships that was big enough to hold Florence’s weight. With them they towed an old boat that was no longer seaworthy or of use to the people of Artimé. They sto
pped near a sandbar some distance off the northern coast of Quill and maneuvered the old boat onto the sand. Then they sailed a short distance away. When they’d gone far enough, Thisbe removed one of the four components from its box and held it tightly in her hand. She concentrated as Florence had instructed and threw it with all her might.

  “Obliterate!” she cried. She and Florence hit the deck and covered their heads with their hands. The component found its mark. An explosion roared, shaking the ship and rattling through Thisbe’s chest and ears. Splinters rained down on them. When it stopped, Thisbe and Florence gingerly went to look out over the water. The boat—and the sandbar!—were completely gone. Only tiny bits of wood floated around them.

  “Oh my,” said Thisbe under her breath. “Everything is… gone.”

  “That’s how powerful the obliterate spell is,” said Florence. “I wanted you to see it. And I hope you never need to use it.”

  “That was such a wide area of coverage,” said Thisbe. “Good in a few situations, I suppose. But not in others. I’ll definitely think hard about using something like this, Florence. You can trust me to be careful.”

  “I do trust you,” said Florence, “or I wouldn’t have given them to you.”

  They returned to Artimé as the sun set. Thisbe carried her three remaining obliterate components in their little indestructible boxes inside her vest. As they anchored the ship in the lagoon, they could see a group of former dissenters carrying out their sentences, working to swab the decks on the other ships. There was another group digging on the lawn near the existing garden, creating a spacious new extension for Henry’s herbs and other medicinal plants.

  “Looks like Fifer came up with some good sentences,” said Thisbe.

  “Do you wish you’d stepped into the role?” Florence asked her.

  Thisbe hesitated. Sure, she’d thought about it. More as a way to protect Fifer from the people who were threatening her than because she wanted to rule Artimé. She still couldn’t shake her feelings about how she’d lost Alex and the guilt that had come with that, and she couldn’t stand the thought of losing Fifer the same way. At least the twins were on the road to healing their relationship. But Thisbe continued to fear for Fifer’s life in the role that had taken one Stowe already.

  “Sometimes I think about that,” Thisbe said carefully. “But not because I want to run this land. My heart is in Grimere. But I can’t stand the thought of those prisoners on the Island of Dragons coming back after they’ve served their sentence and doing something… terrible.”

  Florence nodded. “I’m worried about that too. I want you to know that Simber and I will be acutely aware of that when the time comes. None of us want to lose another Stowe.”

  Thisbe grimaced. Her feelings about Alex began churning again.

  “What is it?” Florence asked. “Did I say something wrong? Would you rather I didn’t mention Alex anymore?”

  Thisbe tried to smile. “It’s not that,” she said quietly. She almost confided in Florence, but she felt too much shame and guilt to admit to the warrior that she thought she wasn’t grieving properly because she just hadn’t felt much love for her brother. Especially when she knew how much Florence had loved him. “It’s just… I’m just dealing with some stuff. About… that.” She frowned and shook her head. “I don’t really want to talk about it. Okay?”

  “Okay,” said Florence. “I’m here if you ever change your mind.”

  “Thanks.” Thisbe was quiet for a moment. “Fifer’s perfect for this role. She’s the right person.”

  “She’s going to do just fine as head mage,” agreed Florence. “I know things are a little stressful right now. But if anyone can overcome adversity and turn people’s scorn into admiration, it’s Fifer. I look forward to a long and prosperous reign.”

  Thisbe nodded, but her expression remained troubled. There was something ominous about Florence’s words. A long and prosperous reign. Thisbe didn’t like to tempt fate—not after what had happened with Alex. And with everything the Stowes had been through, Thisbe of all people knew there were no guarantees of anyone surviving the enormously tough job of head mage of Artimé… with the added duty of being ally to the black-eyed people of the land of the dragons.

  Solitude and Peace

  Dev recovered and his strength returned as many uneventful days passed. The palace began to feel more and more like it belonged to him and him alone. He started fixing little things here and there, caring for the place. He honored the way it had once been but knew it would never return to that glamour—not with him the only one working on it, anyway. But that was okay. Dev didn’t need things to be fancy. He cleaned up the library, dusting everything, straightening the books, and sweeping the carpets with an old broken-handled broom he’d found in a storage closet in the courtyard’s open-air kitchen.

  He’d found some other things by now as well that no one else over the years had deemed valuable enough to steal. Some random pieces of clothing that he’d discovered wadded up in a laundry room were a bit big for him, but a welcome addition to his limited and deteriorating wardrobe. Shoes, too, that appeared to be in a style Shanti might have worn. Dev didn’t care what they looked like as long as they protected his feet and stayed on without giving him blisters.

  His best clothing prize was a long, brown woolen skirt with a useful gold pin in it to adjust the fit. The skirt was warm and soft and very comfortable. He wasn’t sure if the pin was real gold or just gold-coated, but it was definitely his most valuable find so far, and he was pleased that the looters had overlooked it. He took pride in wearing the pin at his hip and made sure to flash it to the family of foxes whenever he went by. It was a great relief to replace his old rags, which weren’t going to last much longer.

  Now that his feet had healed after his mad run over sticks and stones, and now that he had new shoes, he explored the four smaller towers, confirming his fears that they were uninhabitable. Two of the staircases weren’t safe to climb at all due to heavy debris and towers that were caving in. In one, a few of the metal stairs inside had melted. He wasn’t quite sure what could have caused such a disaster but wondered if it had been the result of dragon fire. In the base of that tower he noticed a few large, black, porous rocks that held on to a terrible stench. Had some smaller bits of the meteors landed here and begun the destruction of this once-beautiful place?

  Dev ventured farther outside every day as well to get fish from the river, even though revisiting the place where he’d nearly died made his body shake uncontrollably. He didn’t like to be away from home for too long, preferring instead to be in the cozy library tower with his lookout windows in all directions and his warm fire—he couldn’t seem to get enough of the fireplace lately after his lengthy experience in the cold river.

  His ribs healed. Each day was a little better, and Dev grew curious about what lay beyond the palace grounds. On his walks, with his new brown skirt brushing the tops of the long grass, he found several kinds of trees that bore fruit. There was an apple orchard south of the palace that was flourishing, apparently oblivious to the death and destruction surrounding it. Fruit rotted on the ground between the trees, and small animals seemed to enjoy snacking on it without taking too much notice of the new human who roamed about. Dev only collected what fruit he needed for a few days, plus a couple of extra pieces to leave for the foxes. He was careful to respect the animals’ space and tried not to tread on their paths or scare them away.

  Daytime was easier for him. At night he looked fearfully out of the windows for splashes of fire in the darkness or other signs of the Revinir. In between these mild panic sessions, Dev tried to soothe his fears by playing the various instruments. He wasn’t very good at any of them, but he was learning how they worked and getting better a little at a time. And he found books that showed pictures of them so he could learn what to call them. Lyre. Piccolo. Sitar. Mandolin. Kanjira. They had regal-sounding names that seemed to fit in with this formerly glorious place.

>   Dev talked to himself as he went about his daily chores to keep himself company. Not too much to be annoying, for he found he really enjoyed the quiet. But sometimes he preached elaborately to an invisible Thisbe about how she’d abandoned him and tried to plot out what he’d actually say to her if he ever saw her again. Sometimes he was angry with her, but more and more often as time passed he came up with valid reasons for her to have left Grimere without him. He would be hurt, yet understanding.

  “Perhaps you have returned to Grimere and you’re looking for me now,” he mused. “How would I know? Maybe you’re feeling terrible about everything. Maybe you can’t sleep at night because you’re worried.”

  That’s the thought he preferred to dwell on when he went to bed. For some reason it brought him comfort when he felt most alone and scared. “Yes,” he said sleepily as he turned in one night. “I see you are very sorry. I understand you had to sneak the others out when you had a chance. Oh? You returned the next day but heard rumors that I had perished? That makes sense.”

  What didn’t make sense was that the Revinir was out roaming different parts of the land of the dragons. He hoped she hadn’t gone to the cavelands to terrorize the ghost dragons. But there probably wasn’t much she could do to them. They couldn’t kill her, but they could drive her away easily enough. Why had she come all the way out here to the palace only to leave soon after? Who was she looking for? He couldn’t stop making guesses. She might have been searching for him, but then again maybe she wasn’t. Did she still believe him dead? Or had Drock been forced to spill the beans on that? And speaking of Drock, would he ever figure out where Dev was? Would Astrid remember to tell him if he showed up looking for him?

  It was a concern for Dev, but not nearly a big enough one to make him want to find out the answer by physically going anywhere. These peaceful days, after the world had tried for the umpteenth time to do him in, were a welcome relief and a much-needed respite for a boy who’d been a slave all his life.