by Lisa McMann
“That would explain how he knows where Thisbe is,” said Seth.
Shanti reached out to grab Dev by the collar and pull him with her. A soldier in blue struck the princess’s hand away, then pointed her sword at Shanti. It glinted in the sunlight.
“Don’t touch her!” shouted the captain of the king’s soldiers. They drove the Revinir’s soldiers back, and Shanti grabbed at Dev again.
“Come on, Dev,” she said angrily. “Soldiers!” she shouted. “Take care of this.”
Swords clashed.
“Shanti, please,” Dev begged. “Stop them.” A few soldiers in blue shoved Shanti away from the booth.
The princess screamed, and the king’s soldiers charged to protect her and fight back. Some of the Revinir’s guards grabbed Dev, who struggled to get away, but all he could do was watch, terrified. From the chariot, the tigers growled.
The skirmish became a fight. The king’s soldiers attacked full on and knocked over the table of dragon-bone broth, sending the glass vials smashing to the ground, the broth spilling everywhere. The Revinir’s army charged.
“No!” shouted Dev, and with a huge effort managed to escape the soldiers’ grasp. He shoved Shanti out of the line of fire. Losing his balance, he tried to roll out of the way, but the soldiers kicked and stepped on him, leaving him squirming and unable to get up. Shanti stumbled and fell against one of the Revinir’s soldiers, who turned sharply and slammed the pommel of his sword into her stomach. She doubled over and yelled out for Dev to help her as another blue soldier swung wildly with his sword, swiping at her. His blade left a deep gash in her neck. Her eyes widened in fear, and then the blood started flowing. She dropped to the ground, her princess crown falling off her head and rolling over the uneven pavers. Another of the Revinir’s soldiers slammed his sword down on the princess. She stopped moving.
The tigers growled and yanked at their tethers, and the crowd of townspeople pushed back, many of them running for their lives. One of the tigers bucked and broke free of the chariot, then began stalking random people around him. The blue soldiers fought the green, swords clashing, blood and bodies flying. Shanti lay still in the midst of it all, bloody and broken. Dev got up and fought his way to her, shoving people aside even as they trampled her limp body. He knelt next to her. Reaching for her shoulder, he shook her gently and called her name. But he could see the truth. Shanti was dead.
Dev clutched his head, beside himself, and yelled, “You killed the princess!” His face awash in terror, he got up and stumbled into the fighting, numb and disoriented and yelling in the Revinir’s soldiers’ faces. “You killed the princess!”
Running townspeople stopped and turned. “The princess is dead,” they murmured. “Killed by the Revinir’s soldiers!”
“Surely the king will declare war.”
The Artiméans watched in horror. “Run, Dev!” screamed Fifer before she could contain herself. “Get out of there!” Hearing her, Dev looked wildly around. He came to his senses, dashed through the remaining onlookers, and disappeared.
“Look out, friends,” muttered Carina to the others. “One of the tigers is loose and it’s coming this way. Time to get out of here!” She and Alex found everyone from the rescue team and sent them running toward the forest.
But Crow stayed back as the royal tiger continued attacking injured bystanders who couldn’t get away. People screamed. Crow reached into his pocket and pulled out his slingshot and a handful of stones. With a troubled look on his face, he loaded a small stone and took aim, then fired. It got the tiger’s attention.
Crow stepped toward it and reloaded, this time with a big rock. The tiger recognized its enemy and stalked him. Crow waited. The rest of the rescue team turned from a distance to see what was happening.
“Crow!” screamed Fifer. “No! Look out!”
Crow took careful aim and pulled the stone back as far as he could, his hand shaking. The tiger came at him. He let the stone fly.
It hit the creature between the eyes. The tiger roared angrily, then retreated to nurse his wounds. Crow turned and ran to join his team.
“At least he’s distracted,” said Crow when he reached them. “Enough to give the people a chance to get away.”
“Wow,” said Seth. “That was really brave.”
Crow didn’t answer. Instead he cringed as he watched the battle, his face drawn. He hated fighting. But he’d do anything to protect his friends, just like they’d done for him so many times in the past. Soon one of the king’s uniformed soldiers was able to stun the loose tiger long enough to reattach him to the chariot.
The rescue team retreated farther to the edge of the square, where the buildings began. There they watched from behind an abandoned wagon as the king’s soldiers fell at the hands of the Revinir’s soldiers.
Eventually the Artiméans slipped away to the forest again, all together this time.
After the blue soldiers had fought off the last of the green and declared victory, they descended on the princess’s chariot and looted the jewels that encrusted it. Leaving the dead scattered, one soldier lifted and turned a particular cobblestone in the square near where Dev’s market booth had been. The Revinir’s elevator rose. The victorious soldiers piled in, helping their wounded.
The last one in grabbed Princess Shanti’s crown and held it high in triumph. They left her dead body on the ground in the middle of the square.
A Change in Plans
The end of the day drew near, but Thisbe’s work wasn’t done. She bottled the new liquid alone, lost in her thoughts. The images of her ancestors that had overwhelmed her after taking in the bone broth occasionally flitted through her mind, making little sense. Yet the Revinir hadn’t experienced anything after drinking the ancestor broth. Why hadn’t this same thing happened to her? Thisbe wondered if it was because the woman wasn’t a descendant of the royal black-eyed people.
It made Thisbe thoughtful—was her lineage the real reason the Revinir wanted Thisbe to join her in taking over the land? To use her somehow because of who her powerful ancestors were, like she wanted to use the dragons’ power?
It had to have something to do with her magical abilities, too, or the Revinir could have chosen any of the other slaves. The woman desperately wanted to be great at something, even if by association. Since she wasn’t royalty, having Thisbe as an assistant—and more importantly, a willing assistant—was of the utmost importance to her. That much was clear. Perhaps she wanted validation. Perhaps Thisbe represented some sort of proof that she was powerful and respected because this black-eyed servant thought good of her. Knowing the incredible ego that the Revinir had, this made the most sense.
Thisbe wasn’t having any of it. But she was extremely nervous. She’d nearly gasped when the woman had mentioned escaping, as if she knew full well about the plan. Was the dragon-bone marrow really that strong that the Revinir would have gained such strong intuition? Or was it just a random threat that happened to be accurate? She’d find out soon enough. She and Rohan were breaking out in a few hours. No matter what.
As she finished up for the day, she kept looking anxiously for Dev. Maybe he wouldn’t have to come back here after working in the market all day. She wished she’d said a more meaningful good-bye to him. And had somehow been able to hint to him that they’d be coming back for him and the others eventually. If they survived the escape.
Just then there was a ruckus among the soldiers at the door. A moment later Thisbe could hear faraway shouts from the main hallway. The soldiers ran out, and Thisbe went to the doorway. Rohan was nearing with his load of bones. He was clearly agitated.
“What’s going on?” Thisbe whispered.
“Something terrible has happened,” he said. “The princess came to the market and ordered the Revinir’s soldiers to stand down,” he said in a low voice. “She demanded to have Dev back. There was a fight, and the princess was killed.”
“What? Killed?”
“Yes, and Dev ran off.”
>
“He did?” She clutched her throat, feeling sick for him. “I hope he’s okay.”
“He ran toward the forest is what I’ve heard, not back to the castle. The Revinir is fuming. And I’m afraid my fears of the past weeks will be realized. The king will surely declare war on the Revinir after this. I have no doubt. And after losing the dragons and now Dev, she will certainly welcome it. We’re in for it, Thisbe. All of us.”
“Oh no,” Thisbe said under her breath. Stunned, she couldn’t imagine what Grimere would be like in the middle of a war, or what it would mean for the black-eyed slaves.
“It’s chaos in the square,” said Rohan. “And it soon will be down here. It’ll only get worse as time passes.”
Thisbe searched his eyes. Then she peered down the hallway. “We should leave now while everyone’s distracted.”
“You read my mind,” said Rohan. “Is that the dragon ability?”
“No. I’m just smart. Let’s get out of here.”
Rohan flipped his load of bones onto the kitchen floor and rolled up his harness while Thisbe put her things away in the kitchen as usual, so nothing would seem suspicious. At the last second, Thisbe grabbed a few bottles of the ancestor broth and slipped them into her pocket. She wasn’t sure why she’d taken them—perhaps they’d hold some value down the road. Then the two snuck out toward the main hallway. They could hear soldiers shouting. They reached the main passage and peered in all directions.
“We’ll pretend like we’re walking back to our crypts,” whispered Thisbe. “It’s the right time of day. We’ll go one at a time so we’re not seen together. And we’ll just keep going.”
“Maybe we should grab dragon bones to drag toward the extracting room so we look like we have a purpose for going that way,” said Rohan.
“Perfect,” said Thisbe. “Though it’ll seem a little odd to go in that direction in the evening. But we could say the Revinir is punishing us for something. Maybe we can get by everybody without having to fight at all.”
Rohan slipped his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “Whatever happens . . . ,” he said, and trailed off.
Thisbe turned to look at him. She saw the worry in his expression. “We keep going,” she said, finishing his thought.
He flashed a crooked smile. “That’s not what I was intending to say, but all right.”
“What were you going to say?”
“I’ll tell you once we make it out of here.”
With no time to waste on words, Thisbe nodded and stepped into the hallway, then moved toward her crypt like normal. Rohan waited a few minutes, then followed.
The trek back to their crypts went smoothly enough. Thisbe turned off to her hallway and Rohan to his. A few soldiers ran past Thisbe toward the elevator exit, and she could see a larger crowd of soldiers there. She slipped into her crypt and drained the last of her water from the pitcher. Then she climbed up her bone pile, sending a small dragon bone tumbling to the floor to use as an excuse. She slid down after it and reached for her harness.
As she did so, Mangrel appeared and pushed a food tray inside the room. He slammed the door shut, locking Thisbe in for the night. “Wait!” Thisbe stared at the door. “Buckets of crud!” she muttered, using one of Alex’s common expressions. For a split second her heart fell, and she thought all was lost. But then she remembered.
“Rohan, wait!” she cried, turning toward the tunnel. She quickly attached the bone to her harness and started climbing again, but became hindered by it getting caught on the other bones. She had to stop to unhook it and carry it, and her panic increased. Had the crypt keeper been to Rohan’s room already? Or was he gone? “Rohan!” she called again, growing frantic. She finally made it to the top. She reattached the bone to the harness and dove into the tunnel. “Rohan!” she called again, and crawled through.
Emerging into his crypt, Thisbe looked out. There at the door was Rohan . . . being held fast by the Revinir.
Breakaway
Thisbe stared at the woman.
The Revinir sneered when she saw her and realized what the tunnel meant. “Aren’t you clever?”
“Leave him alone!”
The Revinir shook her head. “You’ve been very devious, teaching this good boy to do evil things.”
“He hasn’t done anything!” Thisbe said, feeling her scales rise and her body’s fiery magic heat up. “Let him go.”
“I will,” said the Revinir. “But only if you stop your nonsensical escape and share just one of your secrets with me.”
“What secrets? Which one?”
“I want to know what you learned from that broth. I know you were lying. Something happened to you. Tell me what it was!”
Rohan looked confused. Thisbe hadn’t had a chance to tell him about that yet. She let out an exasperated noise. “It was nothing. Let go of Rohan. I’m warning you.” Thisbe raised her arm and pointed at the woman. She could feel the electricity pulsing through her, ready to explode.
“Don’t make me kill him,” said the Revinir. “He’s so good.”
Rohan gulped and gave Thisbe a wild look. Thisbe realized that behind the folds of her robe, the Revinir was holding a knife to Rohan’s chest. Didn’t the Revinir have any dragon powers to threaten him with?
Thisbe felt her heart beating wildly. She didn’t know what to do. Rohan was so close to the Revinir—what if she fired and hit him by mistake? “What do you want me to do?” she asked the crazed woman.
“I want you to join my effort to take over the entire land of the dragons. Then we’ll fight against the people who betrayed you in the seven islands.”
“I think you have a lot of other trouble you’re going to have to deal with first, lady,” Thisbe said.
The Revinir jabbed the knife against Rohan’s chest, making him yelp. “Tell me what happened to you when you drank the ancestor-bone broth!”
Rohan gulped down a breath, and his eyes stretched open even wider. He gave Thisbe a hard look, and without him saying a single word, she knew he was telling her it was okay to say no.
Thisbe swallowed hard and tried to be brave. “And if I don’t join you or tell you—what then?”
“I’ll kill Rohan right here in front of you.”
Thisbe’s fingers wavered. “Okay, then,” she said. Then she slowly dropped her arm, carefully watching every move the woman made. “I’ll tell you.”
The Revinir looked appeased. She relaxed her grip a little, and Rohan inched to one side. Quickly Thisbe threw her arm forward and pointed at the woman’s neck, fingers dripping sparks. “Boom!” she cried.
A fireball burst forth and flew across the crypt. Rohan dove. The spell hit the Revinir in the chest. She flew back into the wall and dropped to the floor, but she didn’t break into dozens of pieces like Thisbe had expected.
Thisbe stared for a moment, then started skidding and sliding down the dragon bones, her harness dragging the extra one along with her. Rohan scrambled to his feet and checked the woman’s pulse. “She’s not dead,” he said wildly.
“It’s her dragon scales,” Thisbe muttered. “They protect her.” She thought about trying to finish the woman off, but didn’t want to waste an ounce of energy—she had a lot more fights to be ready for. If they started moving fast now, the Revinir might never catch up. “Let’s go. We’ll lock her in.”
“Brilliant.” Rohan grabbed his harness and slipped it on; then they went out his door as quickly as possible and closed it behind them, automatically locking the Revinir inside the crypt. Staying together now for safety, they moved as fast as they could with their cargo.
“That was quite a powerful spell,” said Rohan, a bit breathless. “Thank you for saving me.”
“I wasn’t about to go along with her,” said Thisbe. “Not for any reason. Even if nobody ever comes back for me—which is what she keeps reminding me about.” She frowned, thinking about how the people of Artimé had left her here. It was deeply painful and probably always would be. But she didn’t h
ate them for it. Not the kind of hatred the Revinir seemed to feed on and expected Thisbe to feel. Thisbe shook her head. “I don’t care how evil I am. I’m not like her.”
“Is she still selling you that bunk? You’re nothing like her. Besides, I think she makes up half of her dragon abilities to scare us. She’s got scales and a little smoke and that’s all. That’s my guess. Otherwise why would she need to hold a knife on me?”
“I wondered about that too.” Thisbe thought the woman might have a bit more dragon power than what Rohan had suggested—some sort of mental advantage that Thisbe had felt the tiniest bit of herself ever since she’d drunk that cup of dragon-bone broth. There was no telling the quantity the Revinir had ingested to produce such a full blanket of scales on her body. But Thisbe was quite sure the ancestor-bone broth hadn’t done anything for the woman like it had for her. It was intriguing that the Revinir wanted to know so badly what had happened after she’d forced it down Thisbe’s throat, as if she expected it to be something very important. And perhaps it was. Thisbe hadn’t had time to contemplate the images she’d seen, but they remained burned in her mind as solidly as her own memories. But she might never know their significance now.
They passed through an intersection with only a few suspicious glances and hurried on toward the river. When the soldiers were out of earshot, Thisbe looked at Rohan. “She made me drink the ancestor-bone broth.”
“So I gathered,” Rohan said gently, and studied her face. “How ghastly that must have been. Are you okay?”
“I’m—I’m not sure. The Revinir threw it in my face. I didn’t swallow much, but enough, I guess. It felt . . .” She recalled the dizzy feeling and stumbled in the hallway. Rohan reached out and steadied her arm. “It felt weird,” Thisbe said. “I saw some things. Like images of things I’ve never seen before, but now I feel eerily like I’ve experienced them. It’s hard to explain.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Thanks.” Thisbe was quiet for a time as they moved along as quickly as they could. They were both hungry and weak, not having eaten since dinner the previous day. How Thisbe wished she’d grabbed some food off her tray after the door had closed. But she hadn’t thought of it in her panic. She had the ancestor broth, but she’d rather trade it for food than drink it. Her mind turned back to the day. “The Revinir told me there are other dragons somewhere.”
