Dragon Slayers

by Lisa McMann

  Florence nodded. “All is not lost,” she said. “No matter what.”

  Rohan studied Aaron. He’d heard the whole story of Aaron’s past by now. “Do you put any stock in the dragon-detected levels of good and evil?”

  Aaron was thoughtful. “I don’t have enough information to go on. I only know that the dragons believe Fifer is more good than evil, Thisbe more evil than good, and Dev is exactly half and half.”

  “I am more good than evil,” Rohan said. “And what about you?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” said Aaron.

  Florence frowned, as if she detected where the conversation would land.

  Rohan rolled a question around in his mind. He knew asking it would be terribly rude and possibly hurtful. But he was completely out of sorts and desperate for answers. So he plowed ahead, hoping he could make amends later if necessary. “Aaron,” he said. “Thisbe is thirteen. How old were you when you started down your… evil path? When you killed Mr. Today?”

  Florence’s jaw slacked. “Rohan…,” she said softly. “That’s not…”

  But Aaron saw the desperation in the boy’s eyes and held up his hand to stop Florence from chiding him. He understood more than anyone just how Rohan must be feeling. Aaron was not only desperate, but he’d started feeling responsible for Thisbe’s actions too. What if she was just like him? How could Aaron bear the shame of that? Seeing his own horrific choices and mistakes recurring like a reflection in a lake of oil?

  “I was thirteen,” he said. “Nearly fourteen. But that doesn’t mean anything. She’s not me.”

  Rohan closed his eyes.

  “I mean it, Rohan,” Aaron said, his voice catching with emotion. “Our upbringings were vastly different. She has everything good going for her.”

  “Except for things she can’t control,” said Rohan, opening his eyes. “Things… that might run in families.”

  Aaron understood what Rohan was implying. He didn’t blame the boy, who was only looking to make sense of something that was unfathomable. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  Rohan couldn’t take any more. He thanked Aaron and apologized for the probing questions, then removed himself from the area, going to the back end of Gorgrun to be alone.

  Aaron let out a defeated sigh. Ten times the amount of guilt he’d had before rushed over him now. He wasn’t the only one wondering it. Thisbe seemed to be following in his way of life, and no one had seen it coming, not even him. It was a mistake that could cost Artimé more than they’d ever risked losing before. A mistake that could end the future of an entire land.

  On Tenterhooks

  Late that night Fifer applied another layer of the magical salve to Dev’s burns and gave him another capsule to swallow. Florence hadn’t responded, which left Fifer stressed out and worried about what was happening. She didn’t want them coming here—the red dragons would likely destroy them as they’d destroyed Fifer’s birds.

  And she wasn’t sure what Florence was thinking. Was she buying Fifer’s story? Had Fifer and Thisbe misjudged how everyone would react to this plan? Feeling stressed out and unable to sleep, Fifer picked up one of Dev’s new weapons and a small chunk of the meteor they’d found in one of the tower stairwells. She brought them to the east window and used the stone to sand down the wood while she pondered and watched.

  Not to mention Fifer was suddenly weary of this place. How long would she be stuck here, especially if her Artiméan people couldn’t approach or attempt to rescue her, and the dragons were being hostile? Had Thisbe made it to the castle safely? How were things going for her? Was there any way Thisbe could communicate with Fifer so she and Dev would know what was happening? Did the Revinir buy Thisbe’s story?

  And now there was Dev, with his not-very-well-thought-out plan to penetrate the mind control and speak to the dragons… in their language. Which Dev didn’t know. What if Dev had said something really horrible or offensive in his roar? Sure, it got the red dragons to pay attention when they normally didn’t react to anything that was spoken to them by anyone other than the Revinir. But that was not the reaction Dev had been hoping for, nor expecting.

  They’d both seen Thisbe mount the dragon and speak to him… somehow. Did she have some dragon communication ability that no one knew about? More likely it had to do with the specific instructions the Revinir had given the red dragons. After all, the dragons most certainly weren’t given any pointers on what to do with Dev, since the Revinir thought he was dead. But it was easy to see the Revinir instructing them to take Thisbe to the castle if she asked them to.

  Fifer wondered if she would be able to get through to the dragons if she wanted to have them take her somewhere. Did they have instructions to listen to her, too? Was there any safe way out using that method?

  She shook her head. What was she thinking? She’d just witnessed Dev getting flambéed! She was not about to have the same thing happen to her—at least not until she knew what rules the dragons were following.

  Sitting down at the desk, Fifer took out a piece of paper and began to write down what she knew about the red dragons.

  1. Paid no attention when Dev and I spoke to them by river

  2. Totally listened when Thisbe roared at them, and did what she wanted them to do

  3. Torched my birds and hammock with no warning

  4. Burned Dev to a crisp when he tried to do what Thisbe did with the roaring

  As Fifer looked up to think about what else to write, she caught sight of something moving outside the window in the darkness. She got up and went to look. It was the remaining front dragon going toward the river, presumably to eat and drink. The dragons did this at some point each day, but Fifer had rarely caught them in the act because they usually did it during the night when she was asleep. But because the other front dragon was away, this move left that entire side of the property unguarded!

  Granted, if Fifer were to ever make a run for it, it would take about six gallops for a dragon to catch her. And there was no place to run to that would be safe. But knowing there was a tiny vulnerability here gave Fifer some hope. She had no idea what she might do with that information, but it seemed noteworthy. Perhaps it would allow for people to come in rather than for Fifer and Dev to escape. Which was also something they desperately needed, especially if the people coming in brought components. And maybe some food that wasn’t fish.

  The thought reminded Fifer that Florence still hadn’t replied to her latest send spell telling them not to come. Was Florence still thinking about how to answer that? Or had something happened to them? Fifer thought about how much time had passed since Florence had told them they were on their way. They must be taking the volcano network in order to get here by morning.

  A panicky thought struck Fifer. What if Fifer’s send spell had gone out when Florence was in the volcano system? Would the spell ever find her? That seemed like the one place Artimé’s spells wouldn’t be able to penetrate on their own. But wouldn’t it find her once she exited? Or would it just be confused and give up?

  All the unanswered questions that flew around Fifer’s mind were making her weary. She checked on Dev again and found him resting as comfortably as possible. Fifer would give Florence until morning to reply, and if she didn’t, she’d have to use her last send component. Because the last thing Fifer wanted was to be responsible for the death of another Artiméan. And if there was any chance that Florence hadn’t received the instructions not to come here, and the whole team of them came barreling in to save their head mage and were attacked, Fifer would never be able to forgive herself.

  * * *

  She dozed for a few hours. When the sun streamed in and Dev stirred and sat up, Fifer startled awake. She applied one more dose of salve to Dev’s burns and moved to put away the healing kit in her robe pocket. When she slid it inside, it caught on something in its way. Fifer frowned and pulled the kit out, then reached inside to find out what was there. Her fingers found a small box wrapped in paper. She’d n
ever seen it before. “What’s this?” she murmured.

  A Trial Period

  The Revinir had seemed cautiously pleased with Thisbe’s response, and the two had parted ways for the night, agreeing tentatively to meet again in the morning for breakfast. Thisbe sent her servant to the sitting room to sleep and spent a wakeful night wrestling with how to play the next act. She knew the plan had been for Fifer to send for Florence on the morning after Thisbe left. So they probably weren’t here yet. Should Thisbe buy time to make sure the people of Artimé could be in the area? Or jump right into the agreement, which would surely set off another round of problems that she would pretend not to expect? All she knew was that she’d been enjoying playing this part.

  By morning, in the magical moment between asleep and awake, Thisbe had a good feeling about what to do. Her instincts had been on so far. And even with Rohan throwing a wrench into things, it had ended up working in her favor. The Revinir had seemed to believe Thisbe even more after seeing the message from Rohan.

  Her eyes flew open, and her stomach pinched. Rohan. Thisbe’s heart ached. He must be falling apart—he’d said as much. But she could picture the pain in his eyes. It was a desolate feeling, as if all of their deep connections, their soul-binding companionship, had gone down the drain. All for the singular reason of Thisbe trying to get close enough to the monster to do away with her. It had to happen soon.

  She went to the ballroom for breakfast. The Revinir was there with her servants. Was the dragon-woman ever alone in this place? It didn’t seem so. Which wasn’t good for Thisbe, but she didn’t let on. Instead she walked with confidence and surveyed the large amounts of food on the table. Apparently the Revinir still preferred to eat at a table like a human, despite the fact that she was almost all dragon by now. Her curled talons clinked the china plates as she shoveled great amounts of food into her toothy maw.

  “Hope you saved some for me,” Thisbe said. “We have a big day ahead of us.”

  The Revinir growled like a wild animal and ate like one too, which was a bit unsettling. And while the dragon-woman was half the size of an average dragon and tiny compared to a ghost dragon, she could still be extremely ferocious, and Thisbe didn’t want to ever find herself too close to her chompers. She sat down near the foot of the long table, within reach of a large tray of crispy bacon, and helped herself.

  The Revinir took a cloth napkin and wiped her mouth. “We’ll meet at noon to declare our partnership,” she said. “Once that’s in place, we can talk about your request.”

  Thisbe laughed. “Um, no. That’s not how this is going to work. I want a trial period of a week to make sure you treat me right. And if you don’t, I’m not declaring anything.”

  “A week!” said the Revinir, lifting her head and straightening her neck to its full height. “Not a chance.”

  Thisbe paused, holding a slice of bacon in midair. She turned sharply to her servant. “Will you pack my bag, please? I’ll be leaving right after I finish my meal.” She glanced at the Revinir, who was seething, then added, “I may as well fill my stomach first. I’m a very hungry girl.”

  “I can stop you from leaving at any time,” said the Revinir. Flames curled up around her jowls.

  “I know you can,” said Thisbe. “But we both know that would be a terrible idea. That would seal the deal for me to never work with you. I know you’re used to getting your way, which is why this is all so aggravating for you. But think about what you really want, Emma. What have you wanted from me since we first met? You had a plan, and you went for it. You knew you couldn’t ever be a true human ruler of the land of the dragons. Even if you’d somehow colored your eyes to black, you knew that you didn’t have the right genealogy to take that position. So what did you do? You turned yourself into a dragon.” Thisbe paused for effect. “A dragon! Who does that? It’s totally bonkers.”

  The Revinir narrowed her eyes. “Where are you going with this? And stop calling me Emma.”

  Thisbe went on as if she hadn’t heard. “All you needed was a true black-eyed person, descending from one of the two original ruling families, to throw their support behind you. And what do you know? You found one. Here I am. And after all of that effort—and to be honest, Emma, I think you’re stuck as a dragon for the long haul once you committed—after all of that, you are willing to let me walk out of here because I want a week and your word not to harm people in a totally different world? Honestly, after the way you’ve acted toward me, it seems fair to want to make sure you’re not going to treat me like dirt in our very crucial partnership. A week is barely enough. Maybe we should do two. Unless you’re ready to grant my request? I’d be ready to go forward with everything if you simply agree to that.”

  The Revinir was still seething, but some of what Thisbe said was making sense. It did seem silly to let this whole thing fall apart for that. She wasn’t about to make the promise about the seven islands, but she supposed she could give Thisbe a few days to settle in. After all, the Revinir really did need a partner. And… she realized she wanted one too. She’d been alone in leadership her whole life. Having someone smart like Thisbe around seemed so refreshing. “I’ll give you two days,” she said.

  “A week,” said Thisbe firmly.

  “Fine. Let’s take it a few days at a time and reevaluate.”

  Thisbe sighed dramatically. But that was all she really wanted. “All right. If you haven’t driven me out of here in a few days, we’ll reconnect about that condition and move forward with our plans.”

  Thisbe’s servant returned to the ballroom carrying Thisbe’s rucksack and canteen. “Oh! Thank you, good person,” Thisbe said. “I won’t be needing these quite yet after all. But I can take them from here. I’m going on a walk anyway. It’s such a beautiful day. And I’ve never seen the grounds without being on the run from some dictator or other.” She wiped her mouth and tossed her napkin on the table.

  “Your servant will go with you,” said the Revinir icily. “You don’t trust me, and I don’t trust you. That’s final. There will be no arguing.”

  Thisbe wrinkled her nose. That wasn’t the answer she wanted. But maybe she could work around it. And she knew how to give a little too. “Ask her what her name is,” said Thisbe impatiently. “Then I’ll happily give her some time off work to explore the waterfall and lounge on the hills with me.”

  And, Thisbe thought, figure out a way to give Fifer an update… and maybe even reply to Rohan. There was a good chance that finding the right words to say to him would break her heart.

  Puzzling Developments

  Fifer unfolded the paper around the small cube that she’d found in her robe pocket and soon recognized it as a long note written in Thisbe’s hand. The box rolled onto the floor next to Fifer. As she read the note, her eyes widened. She stared at the paper. And then she reached for the box and, with trembling fingers, picked it up and examined it from all sides, seeing the small, innocent-looking pebble inside. Carefully she tucked the cube into her component vest’s inner pocket for safekeeping as Thisbe had suggested in the note. Then Fifer read the paper again, scrutinizing it to make sure she understood everything, from how to get the box open to how the spell worked.

  Thisbe had done a good job explaining it. And Fifer had read about the obliterate component that Alex had used long ago and vowed never to re-create because it was so dangerous. Now here was Fifer, holding one close to her heart. It was a bit unnerving, and Fifer wasn’t sure she’d ever feel okay using it. But Thisbe had been very unselfish and possibly even reckless in giving it to her. Fifer would honor the gift.

  “What is that?” Dev asked, looking at the back of the paper.

  “It’s a note from Thiz. I just found it.” She explained what it had been wrapped around.

  “Yikes,” said Dev. “That sounds dangerous.”

  “About as dangerous as messing with a dragon,” Fifer said, giving him a side eye.

  “Hey,” Dev replied sheepishly. “Have you heard from Floren
ce?”

  “I was just about to use my last send spell to check in with her. I wish I didn’t have to, but she didn’t reply.”

  “No sign of them yet, I take it?”

  “Thankfully no.” She pulled her last send component out and wrote:

  Florence,

  I wanted to make sure you got my last instructions. If not, please do not come to Ashguard’s palace. There are three dragons here with large fire-breathing ranges, and they will attack.

  Please go to the cavelands until we figure out what to do. This is my last send component, so please reply if you can. I am alone.

  Fifer

  She looked at Dev and smiled. “I’m glad I’m not really alone. This is tolerable with you.”

  “I’m glad you’re here too,” said Dev. He moved carefully and strained his neck trying to see his back. “I can’t believe how much better this is feeling. Your magic is powerful.”

  “All thanks to Henry.” Fifer sent the component and was surprised when she didn’t see it zoom out to the east. There was no sign of it from any of the three windows they could see out of. “It must have gone north,” said Fifer, running from window to window to make sure she didn’t miss it.

  “That would be the direction of the cavelands,” said Dev. “So that’s a good sign.” He looked around the library. “Where’s my shirt? Is it totally destroyed?” He was just glad his skirt hadn’t caught fire. That could have been embarrassing—once the pain went away, that was.

  “I had to cut it off you,” Fifer said, returning and sitting down next to him on the sofa. “I’m glad you don’t remember it. It was pretty horrible. You screamed a lot.”

  “I did?” Dev asked. “Yeah, that’s all a blur. I think I was in shock. Thanks… for taking care of me.”