Dragon Slayers

by Lisa McMann

  “Whom the Revinir doesn’t know exists,” Fifer reminded her.

  “—and,” Thisbe went on, “the dragons, in their right minds, would never choose the Revinir to lead them!”

  “That’s exactly my point,” said Fifer. “They’re not in their right minds. So the rulership won’t actually transfer, and all will be fine. But the Revinir knows nothing of this! Think of it from her perspective. She believes she has everything she needs except the black-eyed ruler to give her the blessing of the partnership. She’s so close to it that she’s practically drooling.”

  “So…,” said Dev, thinking hard. “But wait. If Thisbe isn’t the proper leader, because Maiven is, then the partnership won’t go through.”

  “That is what I’ve been trying to say,” said Fifer, and she began ticking things off on her fingers: “The dragons aren’t in their right minds to choose a leader. Even if they were, they wouldn’t choose her. The Revinir doesn’t know about Maiven being the chosen pick for the black-eyed rulers. So she won’t know that this plan will fail in a variety of ways.”

  Thisbe looked highly skeptical. “Then what good is it to do it?”

  Fifer pressed her lips together, trying to stay calm and choose her words properly. “Look at where we are. We’re stuck, far away from her. The Revinir has one hundred percent control of us from afar, and we have no way of stopping her—and let’s be honest. We know that killing her is the only way to break the spell. But if she comes to check on us, or if you tell one of the dragons to take you to her, you can say you’re feeling desperate and starting to change your mind. You tell her you want to consider entering into that agreement with her… with a few conditions, just so it’s not suspicious. Then you take up residence in the castle alongside her, and she puts trust in you, and you have chances to be alone with her.” Fifer gave her a hard look.

  Thisbe stared at the fireplace for a long time. “And if I’m alone with her,” she said slowly, “I can use the obliterate spell to destroy her without hurting anyone else.”

  Fifer held her breath. After a moment, she let it out. “Yes,” she said softly.

  “That’s a lot of ifs. And it’s a huge risk, when she could freak out and kill me at any time. What happens when we get to the point of agreement and the partnership doesn’t take effect because Maiven is still alive? She’ll know something’s up.”

  “You can say you didn’t know the rules either.”

  “She’ll never believe me,” Thisbe muttered.

  “You’ve lied to her successfully before,” Dev said quietly. “I think you’re the only one who can do it. For some reason she can’t read you like she can read the others. She told me that when I was in the tower. It seemed like she begrudgingly admired that in you.”

  Fifer nodded. “She said as much when she abducted us.”

  Thisbe closed her eyes and sighed. “It’s dangerous.”

  “Well,” said Fifer, “we’ll have a backup plan then. Yes—so maybe we will alert Florence and ask everybody to come, or at least a few of them at first. But,” said Fifer, growing serious, “we can’t tell any of them that you are faking this partnership. The Revinir could use dragon-bone broth and get the truth out of any of them. And she’ll need to see that our people are truly upset about this venture between you two—that’s exactly the kind of proof we’ll want to convince her that you’ve really changed your mind. She’s going to want to crow about this, not keep it secret. She’ll want all of the seven islands to know that one of their beloved mages has joined her in ruling the land of the dragons.”

  Thisbe shook her head. “I don’t know about this.”

  Fifer leaned in. “Remember what she said when she abducted us? She wants all of our people to come to her so she can fight them at home. I’m saying we give her exactly that and beat her at her own game. She’ll never know what hit her.”

  The three were silent as their thoughts whirred crazily.

  “It’s not a bad plan,” Dev admitted.

  Fifer shot him a grateful look. Then she turned back to Thisbe and reiterated, “We have to convince everyone that you’ve entered this agreement willingly because you are more evil than good. So that if they ever get captured, they won’t give it away.”

  “Even Rohan?” Thisbe whispered. Something wretched pounded behind her eyes.

  The fire crackled sharply, and sparks shimmered and settled.

  “All of the humans, for sure,” said Fifer. “Since they are all vulnerable to the broth. It’ll take some work to convince them. But I have ideas for how to do that, too.”

  Dev glanced at Fifer with renewed respect, but he could see why Thisbe would be so against this plan. It seemed difficult, yet what a gloriously smart way to beat the Revinir.

  Agitated, Thisbe got up and limped over to the fireplace. “How do you get Florence and everybody here?”

  “Sometime after you’re gone,” said Fifer, “I’ll call them in with a send component. I can feed them the lies.”

  “So now you’re not going with me?” asked Thisbe. “I have to do this alone?” New fears struck her—fears she’d been able to tamp down until now. One in particular left her incredibly unsettled. She didn’t want to entertain it and tried to smother it.

  Fifer frowned, thinking hard. “I want to go,” she admitted. “But it’ll be more realistic without me—she’s not going to believe that I’ve changed my mind. In fact…” She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined how things would play out. “In fact,” she said again. “Yes. It’s better this way. We’ll have you sneak off. I’ll send for Florence, and I’ll be devastated and furious that you are doing this. I’ll say that I tried to talk you out of it, but you were embracing your evil side. Everyone will believe it if I’m the one to say you betrayed us. Because they think I never lie.”

  “I know that’s not true,” Thisbe retorted.

  “Yes, but they don’t.” Fifer smiled sweetly, then got up and went to Thisbe and placed her hand on her sister’s arm. “Just think about it,” Fifer said. “I know it’s a lot to process.”

  Thisbe shook her head slowly. “I don’t know,” she muttered. She looked at Fifer, and something electric passed between them again, restoring their connection that had been lost during their massive argument. It gave Thisbe a moment of relief from her fears.

  Fifer felt it and sucked in a breath—it seemed like a good sign that this was the right thing to do. Thisbe might not be sure yet. But Fifer was. And they had a lot of work to do before they could put this plan in motion.

  Coming to Terms

  Thisbe rolled the thoughts over in her mind for a few days, trying to convince herself that Fifer’s idea wasn’t strong enough. That it would never work. Because for Thisbe, the whole “measuring one’s good and evil levels” had been a bit of a sensitive issue ever since she’d learned of this dragon concept. She knew that Dev was exactly half-good and half-evil. And his personality had imitated that, coincidence or not.

  She also knew that Fifer was way more good than evil, and it had shown throughout her entire life. Though there were exceptions. Killing Frieda Stubbs, for example. And this recent infiltration idea Fifer had come up with was pretty much something straight out of an evil person’s playbook. So maybe someone’s level wasn’t totally indicative of what their actions would be like.

  When the Revinir had told Thisbe she was more evil than good, it had felt really strange and unsettling. Rohan had heard this pronouncement. He hadn’t seemed bothered by it, but it had bothered Thisbe quite a lot. She didn’t feel evil… or particularly good, either. But the Revinir’s assumption that Thisbe, because she was more evil than good, would automatically want to be like the dragon-woman, or even work with her? It was insulting and borderline horrifying.

  There was a lot to consider regarding Fifer’s proposal. But there was one thing that bothered Thisbe the most. Something she hadn’t voiced. Something she’d barely allowed herself to worry about over the past year or two. It was a preposterous fe
ar, yet Thisbe couldn’t shake it. And now the question pounded her: If she joined forces with the Revinir, would that somehow trigger this purported evilness inside her? Would Thisbe try being evil… and like it? And worse, did Thisbe secretly want to be in partnership with the Revinir because she was more evil than good, but she just hadn’t realized it yet? Maybe she was on the brink of falling into an abyss of evil. Was that what had happened to Emma, the girl who had turned into the Revinir?

  She thought about the journals she’d read in Artimé. She hadn’t gotten as far as she’d wanted to before the dragon-woman appeared out of nowhere in the jungle. But what she’d learned was that Emma was a pretty normal girl who’d felt distanced from her siblings. And when they’d left her behind to do bigger things, she became angry and turned a corner that led her down a really horrifying path of revenge.

  What if that happened to Thisbe? What if she turned into someone as horrible as the Revinir? Was that the kind of person the Revinir had seen in her from the first day in the catacombs? Someone just like her?

  Thisbe tried to push these thoughts aside. She hated that the Revinir had gotten inside her head. She could recall her voice too easily from the awful catacombs, and it swam through her ears. Cajoling her. Telling her she was her secret weapon. Now she finally understood what the dragon-woman meant. And that made it even worse. How could Thisbe do this—pretend to join the Revinir, to be the one to carry out her plan? And what would that do to her mentally and emotionally?

  And besides all of that, what would others think of her? Rohan and Simber and Florence and Aaron and Maiven and the rest? Those thoughts were the worst. Sure, they’d find out the truth eventually. But they would be so disappointed in her. If there was anything Thisbe couldn’t stand, it was someone being disappointed in her. Like Alex had been the last time she’d seen him. A pain speared through her.

  “I’m going for a walk,” she announced abruptly. Fifer and Dev were across the room, examining sticks from a pile Dev had gathered. She didn’t want them to come with her, and she made that clear in her tone, for they didn’t offer. Thisbe needed to get out of there, no matter how her ankle felt. She’d been cooped up since they’d been dropped here. Maybe some fresh air would do her good.

  It took her a long time to get down all the flights of stairs, but she finally made it and began a slow walk across the courtyard. The fresh breeze and sunshine lifted her spirits immediately, but now Alex was on her mind. Maybe that was why she’d had such a hard time with his death—his disappointment in her. And yet he had come after her when she’d needed help. Had he died still feeling that same way? Had her mistakes, which had brought him to Grimere, caused his death? And did he realize that at the end? Was his final thought before he died about his continuing disappointment in her?

  And now all the rest of Artimé and Grimere would be disappointed too. They’d hardly had a chance to see that she’d grown and accomplished things. Alex had never seen it. Fifer had barely witnessed it. Thisbe pictured what it would be like when Fifer told everyone that she had left to join forces with their worst enemy. She imagined Aaron’s face at hearing that news. The thought made her sick.

  And then she pictured Rohan, and her heart tore. He would feel personally betrayed. It could hurt him so badly that he might never forgive Thisbe when this was all over. When she could tell him the truth. Would anyone believe her? What if they didn’t? Could Rohan ever trust her again after this? The decision was potentially life altering, and Thisbe didn’t think she could do it. It would be the hardest thing she’d ever done. And she could lose the one who filled her soul… forever.

  Thisbe blinked hard in the sunshine and checked the location of the dragons. They had their eyes on her, but they didn’t come for her. The fog that she’d seen every morning and evening from the windows had burned off for now. She continued over the grass and headed toward the back of the property to the river until her ankle ached, and then she stopped and watched the water flow. Watched it wash away everything in its path.

  She thought about the story Dev had told about hiding from the Revinir, and about how one of the images he’d seen had come to happen in his life, just like what had happened with her. Dev had been so brave, so desperate, so totally unwilling to be caught by the Revinir, that he’d been ready to die rather than be captured again.

  Thisbe didn’t really know how the people of Grimere and the surrounding villages were feeling about the dragon-woman, but they certainly had to be scared too—the ones the Revinir hadn’t fed the dragon-bone broth to, anyway. Then there were Thisbe’s fellow black-eyed friends, whose lives were in danger. Would they be willing to do anything to avoid capture like Dev had done?

  Thisbe thought about Fifer’s plan. If Thisbe didn’t go along with the Revinir, would the Revinir go after one of the others instead and try to force them into the partnership? Thisbe didn’t like that idea either. That could turn out frighteningly bad for everyone involved.

  She closed her eyes, tipped her head back, spread her arms wide, and let the breeze flow over her. The land of the dragons was hers—the land of her people. Her grandmother should be ruling it. And maybe Thisbe or one of her friends could be the ruler someday if they ever got it back. But if they couldn’t stop the Revinir, the black-eyed rulership would end forever. All of them were in danger—not just her and Fifer and Dev. Not just the rest of the black-eyed humans and the dragons. Everyone in the land of the dragons, plus everyone in the seven islands, was threatened. And no one could come up with any other viable way to overthrow the Revinir.

  Fifer’s plan had a few holes in it. But together, maybe they could fill them. And it seemed possible they could succeed. Thisbe was an excellent actor—she felt pretty good about being able to convince the Revinir she was joining her side. But could Thisbe come to terms with how hard this would be mentally when everyone she loved would think she had betrayed them? Rohan’s face kept coming to mind. How could she even look at him again, knowing how wrecked he’d feel? He’d be devastated. That was by far the worst part of all of this.

  Yet after months of brainstorming with the best warriors they knew, this was the first idea about how to defeat the Revinir that actually sounded like it could work. And Thisbe was the only one in the right spot and with the right creative skills to do it.

  She let her hands drop to her sides and opened her eyes. It seemed like everyone in two worlds was depending on her. It was a heavy load to bear. And that tiny but awful worry about actually liking the evil side continued to sow doubts in Thisbe’s mind. Is this how it had begun for Emma? Or for Aaron? Was there any way to control that, or was it her destiny?

  Thisbe turned back to the palace and started walking. Her ankle didn’t hurt quite so much going back—perhaps she’d loosened it up a little. And maybe the sunshine had helped her spirits overall, despite the gravity of the fears Thisbe wrestled with. Going up those stairs would be a challenge. But she was pretty good at facing challenges head on.

  Once Thisbe neared the top, she called out. “Fifer?”

  “What is it?” said Fifer, coming to the landing. “Do you need help?”

  Thisbe shook her head. She’d done so many hard things alone. And this was just one more. “I’m going to do it. Your plan, I mean. I… I’ll do it.”

  Filling in Some Pieces

  While ships continued to arrive in Artimé filled with Warblerans determined to support Florence and the rest of her team, Fifer, Thisbe, and Dev strategized in Ashguard’s library without telling anyone what they were doing. They lived fairly peacefully with the four red dragons, whom the humans had decided by now must have been instructed not to harm anyone on the property, but to keep them from leaving. And as long as they didn’t step outside of the dragons’ boundaries or cross the river, the three black-eyed schemers were safe and free to roam.

  “How does it begin?” Thisbe asked. She lay sprawled on her stomach on the library floor with papers surrounding her. She and Fifer and Dev had sketched pla
ns, discarded them for other plans, then returned to the original ideas.

  “First, we wait awhile,” said Fifer. “Not just so we can be strong and fully healthy again, but also to get the Revinir chomping at the bit.”

  “She’s going to expect me to be suffering and ready to give up,” Thisbe said. “So I can’t look too healthy.”

  “True,” said Fifer. “But I want your ankle fully healed.”

  “Fair. And I agree, we want her to be getting anxious and wondering if I’ll ever come around. The more time that goes by, the better the chances she’ll believe I’ve come to work with her.” Thisbe hesitated. “She’ll ask about you, Fifer. What’s our plan there?”

  Dev chimed in. “Play up the good-evil thing. You’re evil; Fifer’s good; you left her behind. She loves talking about that stuff. It’s like how some people talk about astrology and the stars—she’s a true believer that it means something.”

  Thisbe glanced at him. “Don’t you believe in the good-evil levels?”

  “Pfft. It’s bollocks.”

  “Really?” said Fifer, sitting up. “But what about you? You’re fifty percent good and fifty percent evil, and your actions totally fit that.”

  Thisbe flashed Fifer a warning look, and Dev’s jaw dropped. “I’m… what now?” he asked. “I don’t think I knew that.” He frowned, thinking it over.

  “Hux said not to tell him,” Thisbe muttered. “The knowledge can really mess with your mind. Believe me.”

  Dev tapped his lips. “Exactly half? That’s unusual, isn’t it?”

  “It’s probably not even accurate anymore,” Thisbe said. “That’s just what Hux told us when we first met you. These levels must change all the time.”

  “I didn’t think it was still a secret,” said Fifer sheepishly. “Sorry, Dev. And Thisbe’s right. You’ve changed a lot since we first met you. You seem to be more good than evil now.”

  “See?” Thisbe exploded. “Now you’re making assumptions! You’re saying that just because Dev is nicer to you than he used to be, it means he’s somehow gotten more goodness in him. And that is not at all an indicator! I’m nice to you. Does that mean I’m mostly good? Obviously not.”