Dragon Slayers

by Lisa McMann

  “Sugar for your tea?” the Revinir asked, poised, then dropped a cube in each cup without waiting for the answer and stirred them. She passed the cups out, then lifted hers to her lips and sipped. “Tell us where you’ve been, Rohan. What do you know?”

  “I know that Thisbe betrayed our people,” he said, tight-lipped.

  Thisbe’s brain was frozen. She shrugged, hardly able to feel the movement. She still couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m doing what’s best for me,” she said. “You’ll benefit in the long run, when you don’t have to fear being kept a slave anymore. I’m sorry if you can’t see that, but it’s obvious to me.”

  “Oh, Thisbe,” Rohan said.

  His voice dripped with disappointment so thick that Thisbe could hardly stand it. She lifted her cup and took a long sip, hardly able to taste anything but needing the distraction. What was she supposed to do now? What was the Revinir going to do to him?

  The Revinir kept a close eye on both of them, realizing that this was a pivotal moment in her ability to trust Thisbe as a partner. So far she was passing every test, and the Revinir was admiring her quite a lot. But there was one more test she needed to pass.

  “More sugar, Rohan?” the Revinir asked. “Too hot? Perhaps some cream?”

  Rohan’s eyes were crazy with emotion, and he could hardly think straight. “No,” he said dully, then sipped his tea, trying to buy time and figure out what was going to happen next. Imprisonment?

  The tea was soothing, and he drank the rest, worried that in the dungeon he might not get a meal for a while. A strange warm feeling came over him. When he set his cup down it bobbled in the saucer, and the table wavered in front of him. He sank back in the chair.

  Thisbe looked up at the sound and saw the Revinir staring intently at Rohan with a small smile on her snout. Thisbe glanced at Rohan and gasped. Scales sprouted on his arms. And his eyes glazed over. Confused, Thisbe stood up and looked at the sideboard where the kettle of hot water still steamed. Beside it sat two empty vials.

  Changing Plans

  Thisbe turned to the Revinir, failing to mask how desolate she was feeling. “What have you done to him?”

  The Revinir tilted her head. “Are you upset? I thought this would be a much easier way to find out the truth about… things.”

  Thisbe narrowed her eyes. “Things? What things?”

  “And it’s nice having him as a backup in case the agreement with you doesn’t work out.”

  “In his right mind, he’d never agree to what I will do for you,” Thisbe retorted. “And both the dragon and black-eyed ruler have to be of sound mind in order to make an agreement.”

  “Oh really?” The Revinir tapped her chin with a talon. “I thought you didn’t know how this worked.”

  “You’re the one who told me that,” said Thisbe icily. But she was rattled. And lying. She needed to pull it together if she was going to keep the ruse going.

  “Did I?” asked the Revinir lazily. “I don’t recall that.”

  Thisbe shrugged like it wasn’t a matter to quibble over. “What shall we ask him?”

  “Why don’t you start?”

  “Will he listen to me? I thought people under your mind control only listen to you.”

  The Revinir preened with power. “The red dragon listened to you, didn’t he? It’s because I commanded him to. But only if you said you wanted to come here.”

  “Tricky,” said Thisbe.

  “Rohan,” said the Revinir, turning to him, “I command you to listen to Thisbe and answer her questions as truthfully as you would me.”

  Rohan blinked. “Yes, Revinir,” he said.

  Thisbe felt like vomiting to hear him say that. To speak in that voice. Things had been going so well, but now, with the constant reminder of what she was doing sitting right next to her, she felt like quitting. She shifted in her seat and thought she saw a ghost dragon floating by the window, farther away now. Was Quince still out there? “Okay, um…,” she began. “What, uh, what made you come here, Rohan?”

  “I had to talk to you,” said Rohan in a monotone.

  Thisbe’s hands started sweating. Was Rohan sold on the plan that she and Fifer and Dev had concocted? Had he somehow gotten the truth out of Fifer or Dev in the past few days? Thisbe didn’t know where he’d been or who he’d been with—anything could have happened between the time he’d sent that message to Thisbe and now. But the Revinir was most certainly testing her, waiting to see if Thisbe would ask real questions. Thisbe plowed forward. “Talk to me about what?”

  “I wanted to tell you not to betray the black-eyed people by making a deal with the Revinir. You can still change your mind. It’s not too late.”

  Thisbe sucked in a breath. Okay. She looked up at the Revinir. “Your turn?”

  The Revinir seemed pleased with the answers so far. “Rohan,” she said, “does Thisbe want to rule the land of the dragons with me?”

  Thisbe frowned. “What kind of question is that?” she said. “I thought you wanted information about where everyone is and what he and the others are doing.”

  “No, that was a bluff,” said the Revinir. “I want to know if you’re lying to me. If there’s anyone besides Fifer that you’ve confided in, it would be Rohan. So I want the truth.”

  “So that’s why you put dragon-bone broth in his tea? Because you want to know more from him about me? That’s disgusting. I’ve told you the truth.”

  “I didn’t get to this position by trusting people,” the Revinir said lightly. “Rohan, answer the question. Does Thisbe truly want to rule this land with me?”

  Thisbe’s heart flew to her throat. Rohan was emotionless, which was somehow even worse than seeing his face filled with pain.

  “I… don’t know for sure,” Rohan said. “I believe she does.”

  The Revinir lifted her chin. “Has she recently indicated that she wants to trick me?”

  “No,” said Rohan.

  “Has she talked about me lately?”

  “Yes.”

  Thisbe froze. What was coming next?

  “Has she ever talked about overthrowing me?”

  “Yes.”

  Thisbe didn’t know if she should speak. If she jumped in to protest, would that only make her seem guilty? If she stayed silent, would that mean she wasn’t shocked to be accused? She knew that Rohan would tell the truth as he knew it—that’s all he could do under the Revinir’s mind control. She stayed silent and kept her eyes on Rohan’s face.

  “When did she talk about that?”

  “In the catacombs.”

  The Revinir eyed Thisbe and snorted. “Well, who down there didn’t wish that? Am I right?”

  Thisbe grinned uneasily. “Pretty much everybody cursed your name regularly.”

  “That’s what makes a ruler become great,” said the dragon-woman. She waved the conversation off as if it were beginning to get tiresome. “Look, Thisbe. I expected you to want to overthrow me at some point. You wouldn’t be human if you hadn’t expressed that. And that’s the kind of fire I find so appealing in a partner. I saw it in you long ago.”

  “So you keep saying,” Thisbe reminded her. She was sick to death of hearing it, but she didn’t add that part.

  “I saw the pain on Rohan’s face when he spoke your name,” the Revinir continued, softer now, sounding almost… compassionate. If that were possible.

  Thisbe looked up, surprised at the change in tone, and found the Revinir gazing out through the balcony doors at the night sky.

  The dragon-woman continued. “I even dare say I felt some sort of reminiscent pain when he looked at you. He was feeling so betrayed.” She hesitated, then opened her jaws and threw back the contents of her teacup.

  “Reminiscent pain?” Thisbe knew immediately what the Revinir was talking about, and she knew she had another chance to play a card right here. “You mean, back when you were Emma?”

  The Revinir’s expression flickered, and she turned to give Thisbe a warning look. “I told
you to stop calling me that.”

  Thisbe conceded with a nod. “Back when Marcus and Justine betrayed you?”

  The Revinir closed her eyes and sighed. “So you know about that. I suppose everyone has read my diaries by now—I didn’t hide them. Is that how you found out?”

  “Yes. But… I’m the only one who has read them. I’ve kept them private.”

  “You have? Why?” The Revinir opened her eyes and studied Thisbe.

  “Because,” Thisbe said, scrambling to read the dragon-woman’s intentions so she would know how to answer. “Because as much as I despised you for what you did to me, I begrudgingly respected your game. So I went looking to find out more about you while I was away. And that… respect… helped change my mind.” Thisbe held her breath and looked at the table. Had she said too much? And even more of a chilling question: Was it true?

  But the Revinir had gone somewhere far away in her mind and didn’t respond. After a long while, Thisbe nearly nodded off at the table. She pushed her chair back and got up from the table. “I’m going to turn in,” she said quietly. “Good night.” She glanced at Rohan, sitting quietly, staring at nothing. Thinking no thoughts. A shell of a person.

  “Wait a moment,” said the Revinir, rousing from her reverie. She put a hand on Rohan’s shoulder, then looked at Thisbe, calculating her next move. “My kitchen staff has been asking for Zel to return. So…” She narrowed her eyes. “I’d like you to have Rohan as your servant. Send Zel back to the kitchen.” A flicker crossed the evil dragon-woman’s face, as if she regretted offering. But Thisbe knew that this was also a test. If asked, Rohan would tell the Revinir everything Thisbe did, just like Zel would. And maybe the Revinir thought Thisbe would try to communicate more with Rohan because he’d been her friend.

  Could this get any more painful? The last thing Thisbe wanted was to have Rohan as a servant. It was hard enough having him show up here and seeing him in this state. Thisbe’s worst nightmare had come true. But, thanks to Fifer’s insistence, Rohan knew nothing about the true plan and hadn’t foiled it for them. Thisbe had to hand it to Fifer for being firm about that. It could have been disastrous if Thisbe had told Rohan the truth.

  But Thisbe was breaking through the Revinir’s walls, and she needed to keep tying their emotional strings together so she could get what she wanted. So she could keep Artimé safe. And so she could get the Revinir alone in a place where she could destroy her.

  “All right,” Thisbe said coolly, giving the Revinir the side eye to convey that she was totally aware of the dragon-woman’s antics. “Thank you.” She turned to Rohan. “Come on.”

  A Strange Turn

  Thisbe walked stiffly down the hallway to her room with Rohan following along behind. She hated this. Hated everything about it. She was steaming mad about the Revinir spiking Rohan’s tea with the dragon-bone broth. That was one of the most underhanded, despicable things she’d ever done.

  And why did Rohan have to come here in the first place? He could have messed up everything. Luckily his answers were good. He’d actually made the Revinir believe Thisbe even more, but it could have been very bad. Surely she’d discussed overthrowing the Revinir multiple times with him since they’d been in the catacombs. In fact, they’d talked about it extensively on the way to Artimé—so why didn’t he say that? But Thisbe had also noticed that the Revinir hadn’t asked him the question quite right. And words mattered. She’d asked him when Thisbe had talked about overthrowing her. Not the most recent time, but “when.” That would technically include times before the most recent ones, and he’d answered truthfully. So that little technicality had saved her. She turned the corner and blew out a breath, knowing she was out of sight of the Revinir.

  As she neared her suite, she glanced behind her to make sure that Rohan was still obediently following her. It was pathetic seeing him like this. And now she had to treat him like a slave. Like the very thing he’d been so valiantly trying to fight against. The same efforts he now believed Thisbe had turned against.

  She’d hurt him so deeply. Would those wounds ever heal? The only thing that gave her comfort is that he wouldn’t remember this part of things later. But was there a way Thisbe could track down some ancestor broth to use as an antidote? Or would that only complicate things until Thisbe had secured her position and done away with the Revinir?

  “Thisbe,” she chided. How could she even think like that? If she had ancestor broth in her possession, she’d have no choice but to give it to Rohan immediately and face whatever consequences followed. But she had none, and she was pretty sure there wasn’t any in the catacombs anymore… not that she could disappear for a day in search of some. She’d have to make a new batch. Somehow. There had to be a way. But of course the Revinir would find out.

  Thisbe was so tired. When she found Zel sleeping on the floor outside her door, waiting for her to come back from her meeting, she shook her awake. “The Revinir wants you to go back to work in the kitchen,” Thisbe said softly, her voice catching. “Maybe just go to your room for now and report there in the morning, okay?”

  Zel didn’t respond. She got up and left, and that was that. Thisbe entered her living quarters and left the door open. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with Rohan, other than send him to sleep in the sitting room as she’d done with Zel. She didn’t need him to do anything for her. Or… perhaps he could sleep on Thisbe’s balcony—there was a comfy lounge chair out there. That way if Quince returned, he could see that Rohan had been forced under the Revinir’s mind control… and maybe even take him back to the others.

  “That’s it,” Thisbe said under her breath. She could get Rohan out of here. And maybe the others could help him… somehow…. Ugh. Of course they couldn’t. Not without ancestor broth.

  Thisbe looked up when she heard the soft click of the door closing. Rohan turned and leaned back against it. He crossed one leg over the other and folded his arms over his chest. His eyes focused, and he glared at her. “I demand you tell me why you are doing this.”

  More Than Too Much

  Thisbe stared. “What’s happening?” she whispered. She stepped toward him and confirmed that his eyes were no longer glazed over. He wasn’t under the Revinir’s control. But he had brand-new scales on his arms where none had been before. “I saw your eyes glaze over! You have scales!”

  Rohan didn’t smile. He looked furious. But he remained quiet and collected. “You might recall I ingested a few extra doses of the ancestor broth back when we escaped the catacombs together. Remember?”

  Thisbe was confused. But then it became clear. Rohan had taken the ancestor broth multiple times, but he had never actually ingested any dragon-bone broth until today. The antidote was already present inside him. And while the build up of ancestor broth apparently couldn’t stop the scales from appearing, it kept him from succumbing to the Revinir’s mind control. Thisbe sank to the bed, rattled. “So you faked it? How did you know to do it?”

  “It didn’t take a detective to see she was up to something with that whole tea bit. I could tell she was pouring something in. And obviously when the scales popped out, I knew for sure. So yes. I faked it.” His expression didn’t soften. “Now you. What are you doing? And why? I can’t… I just cannot believe what you’ve done. You’ve hurt me more than anyone ever has.” His lips, pressed firmly together, trembled, and his eyes filled with angry tears. “Explain yourself,” he said, his voice ragged. “Now.”

  Thisbe closed her eyes. A wave of nausea rolled through her. She’d imagined this moment multiple times—imagined having to hear his wrath, his pain. She had hoped it would come after everything was over so she could tell him the truth and beg for forgiveness. But she couldn’t do that yet. She had to keep this ruse going or it could cost them everything. And Rohan couldn’t know the truth, especially when he was here in the castle with the sneaky Revinir pouring dragon-bone broth into tea. Sure, he’d taken in enough of the ancestor broth to fight the two vials of dragon-bone broth thi
s time. But there was a one-to-one ratio of effectiveness with the broths. If he ingested a little more of the dragon-bone broth, he could fall under her mind control in an instant. What if she put it in everything he ate or drank while he was here, and he really did fall under her control? Then everything Thisbe would say now could be repeated later. She had to keep going, even if it killed her. She had to lie to his face. She had to stand here and get Rohan to believe that she really wanted to join the Revinir in ruling this world. She opened her eyes and slid off the bed to her feet, trying to compose her character once more.

  “I’ve made my decision,” Thisbe said, lifting her head and staring into Rohan’s eyes. “I’m joining the Revinir, and together we’re going to take over Grimere.”

  “Thisbe, you know that’s not possible!” Rohan whispered. “You know how this works. It doesn’t make sense!”

  “It’s my mostly evil side coming out, I guess,” Thisbe said, choosing things to say that could be repeated to the Revinir, just in case.

  Rohan was steaming mad. “But you aren’t addressing the truth. It’s not possible for the two of you to succeed!”

  “Actually, it is,” Thisbe lied. “We found a way.” She dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry…” She paused, trying not to cry. Trying to sound cold. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t want to do that, but there was no other way.”

  Rohan stared. He frowned and shook his head in disbelief. Then he looked around the room. “Are there people hiding in here? Are you being coerced? Compromised? Is she making you say this?”

  Thisbe swallowed hard and shook her head. Rohan wasn’t making this easy. “None of those things. This is all me. My choice. My decision. I want this because I’m selfish and horrible.”

  Rohan gripped his head in anger and frustration. “Did you just, like, wake up one day and decide this? Fifer said you had some sort of fall and you weren’t making sense before you left. Are you injured? Have you taken any medicine for it?” He started pacing. “I just… I cannot fathom any of this. We had plans, Thisbe. I thought I knew you. You were my soul mate one day, and just like that, a switch flipped in your mind? Is everything we’ve had together done? Is it over? Or have you been playing me from the start?”