by Lisa McMann
“Please,” Thisbe said again.
With a deep sigh, Dev pulled the wooden spoon out and set it beside the fire. “All right,” he said. He wrinkled his face, trying to get the blank look happening, then turned and stared past Thisbe’s shoulder, crossing his eyes slightly to blur the spot and letting his mouth relax. “How’s this?” he said in a monotone voice.
Thisbe brought her arms across her chest and pressed her lips together, pleased. “It’s perfect. You’ve got it exactly right.”
With a final sigh and a slight shake of his head, Dev moved to the doorway.
“Go straight to the grave when you’re done with her. And if we’re not there yet, wait there until someone finds you,” Thisbe whispered. “We’ll be starting our escape within hours, so we should get there before you.” She ran to the throne room and grabbed a vial of ancestor broth, then returned and handed it to Dev. “Take this if you need it to help you be even stronger against the Revinir’s roar.”
Dev moved to slip it into his money pouch and realized he wasn’t wearing it. “Hey!” he exclaimed, breaking character. “Where’s my pouch?”
“Fifer has it, I think. She’s keeping it for you—you left it at their camp when you went to follow the Revinir’s roar. I didn’t think to grab it for my return. I’m sorry.”
Dev narrowed his eyes.
“I promise you’ll get it back with everything in it.”
“All right.” Dev slipped the vial into his pocket instead. He let his face slack and his sight blur once more. “Here I go.”
“Thank you,” Thisbe whispered. She watched him leave.
When she heard a noise from the other direction down the hallway, she snapped back into her mind-controlled character and turned slowly. With relief, she saw it was Rohan coming with Prindi and Reza, all of them dragging bones toward the kitchen.
Breaking Out
Rohan, Prindi, and Reza reached the kitchen, and Rohan hurried the other two inside. “Thisbe will finish explaining everything,” Rohan told them, then said something in the common language. The two nodded. Rohan turned to Thisbe. “I’ve given them their doses. They know the basics and know they can trust you. I’m going after the rest of them now.” He glanced inside the steaming kitchen. “Where’s Dev?”
Thisbe told him everything. “He’s on his way to the castle now. We need to move.”
Rohan cringed, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s make it work.” He blew out a breath and shored up his resolve. “These two don’t speak much of your language. They understand it better than they can speak it, though, so you can try to explain more if you like. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He checked the hallway for soldiers, then sprinted in the direction of the crypts where the others were working.
Thisbe tried explaining to Reza and Prindi everything she could to help them understand what had happened to them and what was about to go down now that they were free from the Revinir’s spell. She gave them each a vial of the ancestor broth as she’d done for Dev, then stuck the remaining vials of ancestor broth inside a small sack and handed it to Prindi.
“You’re in charge of these,” Thisbe said. “This is the antidote to the Revinir’s mind-controlling dragon-bone broth. When she roars, you’ll still feel a pull, because you are part dragon. But the ancestor broth is strong, and as long as you’ve had more ancestor broth than dragon-bone broth, you will be able to resist the Revinir’s call. Understand?”
The two shrugged uncertainly.
“Okay.” Thisbe nervously checked her pants pockets for the collection of magical components she’d need later. Then, wanting to keep the two busy with work so they would look less suspicious if caught, she pointed to the fires and the buckets of water. “Can you put the fires out?”
Prindi said something to Reza, perhaps translating, and they reached for the buckets. Thisbe went to the main hallway and peered down it anxiously. She desperately wished for her component vest. The vest made it so much easier to organize her components, rather than stuffing them all into her front two pants pockets. Plus the vest offered a magical degree of protection. But as she had pointed out to Aaron, the Revinir knew all about the vests that Artiméans wore, and Thisbe couldn’t risk wearing it and tipping the dragon-woman off.
Seeing no one in the passageways, Thisbe returned to the kitchen. She picked up a couple of canteens that the soldiers had left lying around and filled them with water, then handed them to Reza to carry. Reza and Prindi spoke quickly with each other. Then Prindi asked Thisbe if the dragons outside were dangerous.
Thisbe assured them that as long as the dragons were being mind-controlled by the Revinir as the slaves had been, they were not dangerous unless the Revinir told them to attack.
“But . . . if we leave?” asked Reza. He seemed doubtful about escaping. “We have everything here.”
Thisbe stared at him for a long moment. “How long have you been down here?” she asked softly.
“Always.”
Prindi nodded—she too had been there as long as she could remember.
“And . . . you don’t remember being out of here? At all? Ever? Not even recently while the Revinir was controlling you? You don’t remember fighting me and my friends in the castle? Or flying to my world to find me and Drock? None of it?” Thisbe was astounded. They didn’t know what the world was like. It was beyond Thisbe’s comprehension.
Suddenly Prindi’s eyes widened in fear, and she pointed. Thisbe whirled around and saw two soldiers on their rounds coming in to check on them. Reaching for her pocket, Thisbe found a few components.
“What are you two doing in here?” shouted one of the soldiers. “What’s going on? Where’s Dev?”
“Something’s wrong,” said the other. “They’re acting different.”
Thisbe didn’t hesitate. “Freeze!” she shouted, pointing at them. Then she sent shackle components, securing them to the wall in their frozen state.
Prindi and Reza stared.
“We need to hurry,” Thisbe said to Prindi, hoping she’d understand. The shackles would hold the soldiers for hours, but the freeze spell would last only fifteen minutes or so—they’d be able to call for help after that.
Prindi and Reza gaped at the frozen soldiers, unable to comprehend what Thisbe had just done. Then they looked at Thisbe fearfully, as if she might do the same to them.
“Come on!” said Thisbe. “Let’s find Rohan.” Now that she’d started with the magic, she couldn’t stop—the soldiers had seen her and Prindi and Reza talking and acting like normal. They knew something was up, and Thisbe wasn’t about to let them tell everyone else. Word could get to the castle before Dev had a chance to get out of there.
Thisbe hurried the other two into the hallway, then sealed the doorway with a glass spell. She sprinted in the direction that Rohan had gone, with Reza and Prindi close behind her. Whenever they reached a hallway branching off, Thisbe peered around the corner, then called out for Rohan. She knew it was a risk, but she had to find him fast. And she was ready with her components for the next soldiers who got in her way.
She didn’t have to wait long. As they rounded a bend, they came upon a group of soldiers. When Thisbe saw why they were gathered, her heart sank. They surrounded Rohan and the other four slaves. Rohan was facedown on the ground, his arms held behind his back and his cheek against the stone floor. The other four looked bewildered and scared.
“Thisbe!” Rohan shouted. “Help!”
This time Thisbe pulled heart attack spells from her pocket, sending one at each of the three guards who were closest to her. The soldiers flopped to the ground, writhing and helpless. Thisbe ran closer.
The remaining two guards charged at Thisbe, one behind the other. Thisbe flung a handful of scatterclips at the front man. The force of the magic sent him flying backward, slamming into the soldier behind him and propelling them in a stack all the way down the lengthy hallway to the end. They smashed into the wall and hung there by the magical clips.
“Let’s go!” Thisbe said, running to the others and trying to encourage them to come. “No time to stop at my crypt to regroup—we’ll just barrel right out of here.”
Rohan shouted instructions in the common language and scrambled to his feet. Soon they were all heading toward the elevator, where there were sure to be more soldiers to contend with. As they went back past the kitchen wing, Thisbe stopped. She removed the glass spell, hit the guards there with another blast of freeze spells to keep them quiet for a while longer, then replaced the glass barrier. Then she rejoined the others, and they continued fleeing.
They went past Rohan’s hallway and rounded the corner to take them by Thisbe’s crypt and to the elevator. There were three guards lounging by the exit. When they saw the size of the group coming at them, they jumped to their feet. “Help!” they called out, pulling their swords. “They’re escaping!”
Thisbe dug into her pockets as more guards and Mangrel came running onto the scene. She sent two of the soldiers sprawling with backward bobbly head spells, and a third screaming in pain with the pin cushion spell. One of the soldiers, whom Thisbe had fought once before by the river, dove at her feet, tripping her and sending her sprawling. He pulled his sword and slammed the hilt into her shoulder, causing shock waves of pain radiating through her.
“Get into the elevator!” Thisbe yelled to the others as fury rose in her throat. Every one of the slaves were defenseless except for Thisbe. If something happened to Thisbe, the black-eyed children would suffer greatly. It was up to her to protect them and show the soldiers that they were picking a fight with the wrong person. Trying not to cringe, Thisbe pointed at the guard who’d attacked her and yelled, “Boom!”
His body exploded into pieces, which rolled around on the floor of the catacombs. The remaining soldiers and Mangrel stopped and stared.
Thisbe mentally rammed through her emotions, refusing to feel regret, and reached for her components. Choked up but knowing she had to prove her dominance over the soldiers, she shouted, “He didn’t have to die! And neither do you! So stay back and leave us all alone, or I’ll do the same to you!”
Rohan reached the button that opened the elevator’s glass door, and the others scrambled inside. “Come on, Thisbe!”
Mangrel stepped forward, arms above his head. “Thisbe! Do your magic on these two in front of me! They’re not to be trusted. Then get out of here, all of you! I hope you all make it to safety.”
Thisbe’s mouth fell open in surprise. Was the crypt keeper trying to trick her? But his face was earnest, and he kept his arms raised. She frowned, contemplating killing the two, but she’d done enough to show them what they were up against. One death was one too many, and Thisbe didn’t want to add anything else to her list of regrets. Instead she used shackle and silence spells on the remaining soldiers. She left Mangrel unharmed.
“Good luck!” he called to them as Thisbe hopped inside the elevator. Rohan closed the door and hit the button to bring them up to Dragonsmarche.
“Quickly,” said Thisbe, bringing out a handful of tiny paintbrushes and handing them all around as the elevator churned slowly upward. “This will make you invisible. Just do what I do.” She took one and held it up, then painted herself with broad strokes until she was nearly invisible, leaving a small piece of her shirt untouched. “Make sure you leave a bit of clothing visible so we can find you.”
Rohan translated the instructions, and they all started to paint themselves too.
“This invisibility won’t last long,” Thisbe said. “Once we’re out, hold on to each other and stay close to me. I’ll run for an open area where we have lots of room. We’re going to need it.”
The elevator surfaced. Standing all around the square were dragons and soldiers. Townspeople scurried with their heads down. There was no market today. For the first time Thisbe could take in the state of the square. Pavers were cracked, and weeds grew between them. Nobody had taken care of it. The place looked horrible and desolate.
The outside soldiers crowded around the elevator, but when they saw no one inside, they looked around behind them to see if anyone was coming to use it to go down. In the confusion, Thisbe whispered, “Follow me!” She grabbed on to someone’s hand and led them all through a break in the soldiers to an open area in the square. Once they were safely away from everyone, she counted tiny bits of clothing to make sure there were seven besides hers, remembering that Dev wouldn’t be among them.
Then Thisbe called for eight invisible steeds. One by one the horses came to exist in front of the slaves. “Just feel around for them. Jump on their backs and follow me,” Thisbe explained, and Rohan translated. A couple of the slaves seemed frightened and began to argue, but Rohan said something to those who were frightened to calm them down. Soon the entire invisible group was cantering through the neighborhood around Dragonsmarche, with nobody following.
As the group’s invisibility began to fade, they reached the neighborhood where Maiven Taveer’s family’s house stood. Maiven, who’d lived in the castle for years before she’d been imprisoned, had spent time here as a child, Rohan explained. When things had begun looking dangerous, Maiven had hidden weapons and gold here. Rohan hurried everyone to the vacant alleyway behind the house so they wouldn’t be seen. One by one the steeds vanished, depositing each black-eyed teen onto the ground.
Once they were all there, Rohan told them to wait by the back door. He snuck around to the front of the house, to the spot where Thisbe had said good-bye to him not so long ago. He found the key and opened the door, then dashed through the house and went to the back door to let the others inside. He ushered them all into the den.
A noise made Thisbe turn. Coming through a doorway was a tall, beautiful, regal woman. She entered the den and moved to the center of the room to greet them. Though Thisbe could scarcely tear her eyes away from the woman, something shiny caught her eye in the corner of the room. It was then that Thisbe realized the walls were covered with the shiniest, most bejeweled, and deadliest-looking weapons she had ever laid eyes upon.
Waiting for Dev
My dear Thisbe!” cried the woman, catching sight of her. “I wasn’t expecting you to be among this group.”
“Maiven?” Thisbe replied. “Is that you?” The woman hardly resembled the half-starved prisoner Thisbe had known. She was strong and muscular and . . . freshly bathed. Her light brown skin glowed, and her shiny white hair was coiled around her head like a crown with a string of delicate flower-shaped jewels weaved into it. The woman’s wrinkles made her even more stately and beautiful. And she carried herself with great dignity.
“Do I look different?” asked Maiven Taveer with a small smile. The queen. Thisbe’s grandmother.
Thisbe gazed at the woman until her eyes blurred. She rushed into Maiven’s arms and began to cry. She couldn’t pinpoint what had started the tears, but they were bubbling over now. There were so many emotions going through her: fear surging from the fight and the escape, regret about the soldier she’d had to kill, worry over Dev, and love for this family member she hadn’t realized that she had until recently. And the realization of the enormous task still before them was making her feel like what they’d just accomplished was merely akin to a drop of water in a sea. She’d gotten most of the slaves out of the catacombs and to safety. But there were still dragons everywhere under the control of the evil Revinir, who seemed invincible. And Dev, currently at her mercy.
Getting her fellow black-eyed slaves to freedom had felt huge. But it paled in comparison to overcoming the monstrous Revinir. And this tiny part wasn’t even over yet. Maiven patted Thisbe’s back as the girl sniffed and pulled herself together.
After a moment, Thisbe looked up. “We need to meet Dev by Alex’s grave,” she said. “I’ll go. I can take down anyone who tries to fight me . . . except her. Or . . . dragons. But they won’t be looking for us.”
“Not yet, anyway,” said Rohan. “Not until the Revinir finds out what we did. Hopefully we have a few
hours before the remaining soldiers can alert her. And then we’ll be sneaking around a bit until we figure out how to take down the Revinir once and for all. Maiven, what have you discovered while I’ve been away?”
“I’ve done a great deal of studying,” said Maiven, pointing to a stack of books and several others open and spread around on a table. She said a few things in the common language, then turned to Thisbe. “You see, Thisbe, our people have never had to fight dragons or dragon-people before—they’ve always been our allies. But while you were gone, I made a trip to the old curmudgeon Ashguard’s ruins on the other side of the crater lake, where the ruling family of Suresh once lived. There, in the palace library, I found some old texts and scrolls. They’re written in the ancient language of our people, which no one has made use of since I was a child—and even then it was saved for high-court proceedings and the like. So it’s a bit stiff and formal, and difficult for me to decipher. But I brought the items back with me, and I’ve been working at it, hoping to find something that will give us a clue how to defeat the Revinir.”
One of the slaves, whose name Thisbe didn’t yet know, spoke up haltingly. “Is Ashguard living?”
“I don’t believe so,” said Maiven, studying the girl with concern. She spoke rapidly in the common language, then repeated it for Thisbe’s sake. “The land across the lake is deserted now. But the buildings, though precarious and mostly ruined, still remain. Did you know Ashguard?”
The girl’s eyes, so much more expressive than Thisbe had ever noticed them, brimmed with tears. She nodded. “I am named for him.”
“What is your name, dear?” asked Maiven.
“I am called Asha from the line of Suresh.”
Maiven was quiet for a moment. “Perhaps I am wrong about the old curmudgeon,” she said gently.
Asha nodded and didn’t say anything more.
Thisbe glanced at Rohan. “I should go out to the forest now.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Rohan. “All right, Maiven?”
