by Lisa McMann
When she exited, there was no sign of Rohan. She ventured the way she’d come, this time following faint green arrows which pointed the way back, and tried not to appear like she was looking for anyone. She rounded the first corner, where the rushing water sound was most distinct, and heard a noise behind her. She turned and saw Rohan beckoning to her from a side hallway that had no markings but went steeply uphill.
Making sure no one was around, Thisbe went toward him.
“Swiftly,” he said when she reached him. The two went together up the passage as fast as they could go while dragging enormous dragon bones.
The noise grew louder. Rohan moved fast with Thisbe huffing and puffing behind him, trying to keep up. He turned another corner, and Thisbe dug in after him. When she went around it and looked up, she stopped short. Her lips parted. Several yards in front of her, slicing across the passageway and appearing to cut straight through the rock walls and floor of the catacombs, was a wide, rushing river with stacks of buckets like the one in the extracting room nearby. But beyond the river was what took Thisbe’s breath away. It was the sky.
“Oh my,” said Thisbe, her words lost in the roaring of the water. It seemed like ages since she’d seen the sky. She could see that there was a short bit of passageway on the other side of the river that led to a gaping opening in the rock wall, which wasn’t guarded by anyone at the moment. She took a few more steps. “How do you get across the river?” she shouted at Rohan. “And then . . . what?”
“You don’t,” said Rohan, pointing to where the river disappeared below the wall. “The river never slows down, and look—if you tried to swim it, it would carry you away and slam you against the wall unless you were fully submerged. But no one knows where it leads or how far it travels under the stone. You could get trapped with no place to surface and drown in no time.”
“Yikes,” said Thisbe. She eyeballed the distance across. It was way too far to try to jump. It was clear now why Rohan had said luck of escaping came with wings, for just like the space between the worlds, there was no other way to get to the exit. “No wonder the Revinir doesn’t bother to guard it. There’s no need.”
“Precisely.” Rohan nodded. He tore his eyes away from the mesmerizing rush of water and glanced at Thisbe. “Even if we could get across, I think it’s a long way down the mountainside, considering how far uphill we travel to this part of the catacombs. The city is back where our crypts are—but we’re inside a mountain now. And I’m not sure if you can see it, but the crater lake is just out there. I can only see the tip of the volcano from here.”
Thisbe frowned. Rohan was a few inches taller than her. She stood on her tiptoes and could barely see what looked like the top of a volcano.
“Here,” said Rohan, hastily checking to make sure no one had come their way. He unhooked Thisbe’s harness, then knelt and held out a hand. He tapped his knee with the other. “Step up here and see.”
Thisbe quickly grabbed his hand and hopped up, and now she could see the lake surrounding the volcano. As she stood there marveling at it, and fretting over their distance and height from it, the volcano belched and exploded a giant ball of water into the air. A second later came a great boom that shook the floor. The ball of water separated and fell all around the volcano, slapping its sides and the surface of the lake. It was followed by a ball of fire that shot up and turned to smoke. Then the volcano shook and shot down under the water, disappearing.
“Wow,” said Thisbe under her breath. It reminded her of the Island of Fire. “So that’s where that booming sound comes from?” She and Fifer and Seth had all heard it.
Rohan nodded, and Thisbe stepped down.
“Thanks,” she said, letting go of his hand and picking up her harness again. Her mind whirred with thoughts—if Simber could only find this entrance, they might have a chance! But was the opening big enough for his broad wingspan? Certainly this hallway wasn’t wide enough for Simber to glide in here. She stood for a moment as her hopes sank. Why was everything so impossible?
She buckled the harness ropes to her chest, then turned around and gasped. Behind them stood the Revinir. Before Thisbe could try to stop herself, angry sparks shot from her eyes and struck the bone in her harness, breaking it in two.
Forbidden Friendship
Rohan froze, a look of bewilderment and fear on his face. His eyes darted between Thisbe and the Revinir. But the Revinir’s icy stare rested on Thisbe. Arms crossed, she moved her fingers, the long curling fingernails like weapons tapping against the rich velvet of her garment. “What is this?” she hissed. “Some sort of magic? So my hunch was correct about you. You’re the little tyrant—”
“No!” shouted Thisbe. Based on the Revinir’s reaction, disclosing her abilities seemed like an incredibly bad idea. “This bone was . . . well, it was cracked already from the extraction procedure. And it just broke.”
The Revinir narrowed her eyes at Thisbe. “Hmm,” she said. “And a liar, too.”
Thisbe recoiled. The Revinir had seen right through her. Flustered, she opened her mouth to reply, but the Revinir had turned to the boy.
“Rohan!” snapped the woman. “What are you doing here with her?”
“I—I—” he stammered.
“It’s my fault,” Thisbe said, stepping forward. “I told him I wanted to escape, and he showed me this exit to prove to me that it’s impossible. That’s all. I understand now, and we’re going back.”
The Revinir studied Thisbe, as if trying to sense her motives. Then she raised an eyebrow. “You are an evil child,” she said matter-of-factly.
Thisbe gasped.
The woman continued. “Are you the one who destroyed my ravens? Or was that the dead one?”
Thisbe’s heart flew to her throat. Was Fifer truly dead? She couldn’t be. Thisbe would know it—she would feel it somehow. They were identical twins, after all, and they had a special connection just like their brothers, didn’t they? The Revinir had to be trying to scare her. Clearly the woman had figured out that Thisbe and Fifer were the twins from Artimé—probably because of Simber, as Thisbe had suspected before. As much as she wanted to cry out for information about Fifer, she knew she couldn’t. What was she supposed to say now? Pretend the woman was mistaken?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Thisbe said as boldly as she could.
The woman laughed. “Right,” she said. “Magical. Your age and that flying creature with you gave you away—I know exactly who you are.”
“Then why would you ask?” Thisbe said hotly. She could feel Rohan’s eyes boring a hole in the side of her head, but she didn’t dare look at him. She didn’t want to get him into any more trouble.
The Revinir didn’t respond. She stepped closer and continued to study Thisbe. “More evil than good, and magical, too,” she murmured. “Interesting.”
Thisbe’s blood ran cold. “What did you say?” she said.
The Revinir laughed again. “You may have stripped me of my magic once, but you won’t do it again. I’m stronger than any of you now—your awful brother, too. I can’t wait for your people to come back for you so we can have a proper fight. Though you’d think they’d have come by now.” She tapped her pursed lips, looking troubled, but in a fake way. “Maybe they don’t want you back because you are such an evil thing.”
“Stop saying that,” Thisbe warned. She could feel her anger building. Her fingers buzzed with heat and static.
Rohan put a hand on her shoulder and leaned in. “She has to be bluffing. Don’t let her get to you,” he whispered, close enough for Thisbe to hear over the rushing river.
The Revinir turned to Rohan. “You will not speak to this child ever again!” she spat out. Then she softened. “Stay away from her, my good boy—she’s more evil than good, and you know well enough not to associate with slaves like that.”
Rohan flinched, but he didn’t respond.
“How do you know I’m more evil?” Thisbe demanded. She didn’t like the
way it sounded at all, and she didn’t believe it was true. “You’re making it up. Only dragons can tell that.”
Just then there was a bit of commotion behind the Revinir as a squad of soldiers rounded the corner and came up to her. Quickly Thisbe focused on tamping down her anger—she couldn’t take on the lot of them with her fiery magic and had no idea what would happen to her if she tried.
“You are a stupid child,” the Revinir said to Thisbe. “What do you think I do with the magic from the bones—throw it away? I am a dragon now, you fool. More of a dragon than the dragons themselves!” She turned to address the boy. “Rohan, I’m disappointed in you. Continue with your job and don’t let me catch you speaking to this one again. Go.”
“But—” Rohan said, hesitating.
“Now,” the Revinir said forcefully, and looked to the lead soldier of the group. He and the other soldiers reached for their weapons.
Rohan gave Thisbe a helpless look. Without a word, he turned away in defeat and retreated down the passageway with his dragon bone, past the Revinir and the soldiers, and went around the corner to the main hallway.
“Soldiers,” the Revinir said, still staring at Thisbe, “this girl has pointed out a very important issue to us. We will need to guard this entrance now that she’s here. Who knows what that flying statue can do or what sort of magic her people might have to enable them to climb up the cliff side and get across this river. Or what sort she has.” She looked at Thisbe’s broken dragon bone, then turned to the girl. “Drag these back to your crypt. Tomorrow you’ll be tackling a different project . . . with me.”
Thisbe’s expression flickered with surprise. She worked her jaw and said nothing.
“And don’t try anything with your little sparks,” warned the Revinir. “It’s only fair for me to tell you that you can’t hurt me. And I’ll fight back with all the strength I’ve been saving up to kill your brother once and for all.” With that, she lifted the sleeve of her garment. Instead of skin on her bare arm, she had thick scales like a dragon. Thisbe recoiled and stared. Then a curl of gray smoke drifted from the Revinir’s nostrils and floated to the ceiling. She turned sharply and walked away.
Pounded with such shocking revelations, Thisbe numbly obeyed. She fought to keep her wits about her, then rigged her harness to carry the two halves of the bones and made her way slowly past the soldiers and back to her crypt.
As she walked, she dismissed the idea entirely that Fifer was dead. She refused to believe that manipulating woman. Instead she debated what else about her was most devastating—the Revinir’s obvious new magical dragon powers? Or that she’d said Thisbe was evil? Or maybe it was the fact that Thisbe wouldn’t be allowed to talk to Rohan ever again. Losing her new friend was a sharper blow than Thisbe expected—it left her alone once more.
• • •
That night after her meal, as Thisbe whiled away the hours locked in her crypt, she found herself looking at her short, ragged fingernails and thinking about her anger-induced magic. “You think I’m evil?” she muttered under her breath. “I’ll show you evil.” She sat up and pointed at a nearby bone. Then she closed her eyes and concentrated, thinking about the Revinir and trying to make herself more and more angry at the horrid woman. When she could feel her blood about to boil, Thisbe flung her fingers in the direction of the bone and shouted, “Fire!”
Her fingers and eyes sparked. She leaned forward, thinking of how the Revinir had said so callously that Fifer was dead. And then how she’d threatened Alex and the people of Artimé. “Fire!” she said again. More sparks came out, but they didn’t hit the mark.
Thisbe growled under her breath. She had to be able to do this. There was no other choice. She thought hard about the books Lani had written, about how the Revinir, as Queen Eagala, had fought against Alex and injured him so badly it had changed his life. “You wrecked my brother,” she stewed, picturing the fight scene. “You’d better stay away from my family!” She leaped to her feet, took a few steps back, and struck out with her hands at the bone before her. “Fire!” she cried.
Fiery arrows burst from her fingertips and slammed into the bone, making it fly back against the wall. It bounced off and rebounded, hitting Thisbe’s head and knocking her to the ground, senseless. The bone landed next to her and broke into pieces. Thisbe groaned and rolled to her side. Everything went black.
Moments later, three sharp taps came from the other side of her back wall. But Thisbe was out cold, and she didn’t hear them.
In the morning, Mangrel came to get her and bring her to the Revinir’s chambers.
Private Lessons
Fifer woke with a start. Where was she? She blinked a few times as the ceiling of the hospital ward came into focus. Then she pushed herself up on one elbow and looked around. Seth had gone to bed at Crow’s urging, and Henry wasn’t around. Only Crow was sitting in a chair nearby.
“Hey, Fife,” he said. Because Alex was busy preparing for the rescue, and Scarlet was comforting Crow’s mother on Warbler, Crow had decided to stay in Artimé until he was convinced Fifer was okay. Here at least he could keep tabs on what was happening, because once he left for Warbler, communication with Artimé would be limited. He smiled and got out of his chair to stand nearer to Fifer. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m . . . okay,” she said. She looked beyond him as Florence came into the hospital ward.
The warrior approached the bed and stood next to Crow, towering over him. “Oh good, Fifer, you’re awake. You look a lot healthier with your eyes open.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Fifer murmured. Her mind still felt a bit fuzzy, and her body ached all over. She looked down at herself and saw dozens of wounds that were in various stages of healing.
The only thing Fifer recalled about being home was a momentary face-to-face talk with Alex, and she had no idea how long ago it had taken place. Before that, she could remember being tied to a post in Dragonsmarche, seeing Simber flying toward her, then being pelted with shards of glass. Everything after that moment was blurry, but she knew Simber had swooped in with Thatcher to take her away, and she had a distant memory of the giant glass aquarium in the market square growing small and dark as they soared off. She could recall nothing of the journey home, which wasn’t all bad, since no one really enjoyed the long stretch of days flying over the sea.
Her stomach growled, and she recalled how awfully hungry and wet and tired she and Seth and Thisbe had gotten on the way to the land of the dragons. Suddenly some of the conversation she’d had with Alex returned to her, and her heart plummeted. Seth had been here too, but . . . She looked up sharply. “Where’s Thisbe?”
Crow and Florence exchanged a concerned glance. Didn’t Fifer remember what Alex had told her the previous day? Crow gently sat on the edge of her bed and explained everything to her from the beginning.
By the time he was done, Fifer was crying inconsolably. Nothing anyone could say brought her comfort. Eventually she grew quiet and remained that way, staring at the ceiling for a long time while Crow and Florence stayed nearby, worrying over her.
Some time later, Fifer struggled and sat up. “I’m going to help find her.” She threw the bedcovers off.
Crow objected. “You’re still pretty weak to be getting out of bed. Take it slow. Nobody’s going anywhere right now. Not for a while. They need to prepare.”
Florence pressed her lips together and frowned. “Fifer, I’m afraid you’re staying home when they do go after your sister. Alex won’t allow it.”
“Too bad for Alex,” Fifer said. Her eyes turned steely. “I know Thisbe best of anyone. I’ll be able to find her.”
Crow shook his head. “It’s already been decided.”
“Without me?” Fifer reached out and put a weak hand on his arm. “Crow,” she pleaded, “you know Thisbe and me better than even Alex does—she and I do everything together. We’ve never been separated like this. I’ll be able to find her. I’m not joking around.”
&nbs
p; Crow lowered his gaze. “It’s not my call.”
Fifer turned to Florence. “Please. Just teach me some basics and give me a component vest and I’ll be a better mage than all of them. You know I will be!”
Florence closed her eyes and sighed. “I don’t know if I should do that without Alex’s okay. But . . . I’ll see what I can do. Don’t count on anything. Alex is very stubborn. And he’s worried about losing you on top of Thisbe and Sky. But I’ll talk to him again.”
“When are they going back to find her?”
“A few weeks. We’re taking some time to prepare and train first.”
“But isn’t Thisbe in danger?”
“We don’t think the Revinir will hurt her. And we know where she is.”
Fifer leaned back into her pillows, already exhausted from the argument but not giving up. “This is ridiculous. You need me to go.”
Crow looked at Florence too. “She’s right,” he said quietly. “She knows Thisbe best—and she’s powerful. With a little training she’d be a huge asset to the rescue team, if only Alex would let her.”
Florence shook her head in frustration. “I wish I could convince him of that. Like I said, I’ll do what I can. Just . . . just focus on getting better, Fifer. Okay? I’ve got to go check on the dragon-wing progress and set up some training time with Alex and the team. And now that Fifer is looking stronger, we’ll see about Simber and you heading to Warbler—perhaps tomorrow?”
Crow nodded. “That would be nice if Simber can get away.”
• • •
Later that day, as Fifer sat up in bed talking with Crow and eating heartily to help herself grow stronger, Florence reappeared at the hospital ward doorway and beckoned to Crow. He slipped out and joined her in the mansion’s massive entryway while Fifer looked on curiously. “What’s going on?” she called out. But Crow and Florence were having an intense conversation and didn’t hear her.
