Dragon Slayers

by Lisa McMann

  The Revinir was unlike Frieda Stubbs, who had seemed like the most one-dimensional, fear-mongering villain to ever cross the path of any Unwanted. But the dragon-woman had layers and layers of history that somehow worked to give her a mysterious, intriguing life. She just hadn’t revealed any of it until now.

  Thisbe wished she hadn’t revealed it at all, because it was only making this job harder. She slipped her hand inside her jacket to her vest to make sure she could access the small component box easily when needed.

  As they traveled, trumpets sounded every quarter hour, calling the people of the land of the dragons to come to the square. The Revinir let out an unexpected, earsplitting roar once they drew close, making Thisbe and Rohan wince. Both felt the tug of the Revinir’s call even though they were already with her. Both saw their usual images flash before their eyes—Rohan for the first time when a roar occurred. Soon a cyclone of dragons whirled around above them.

  Thisbe eyed Rohan. Things weren’t looking good for getting the Revinir alone and away from everyone else. With a sinking heart, she couldn’t see how she would possibly be able to take the dragon-woman down during this event.

  But if she could, it would be so convenient. Everyone was already gathered in Dragonsmarche. After the deed was done, Thisbe could address everyone and explain what was going on before rumors spread wildly. Still… that would be a traumatic experience to witness. Not something Thisbe wanted others to have to suffer through. No, it was best to wait. Find the Revinir alone. Do it safely. Don’t endanger anyone.

  She sighed and realized she felt a twinge of relief, which was alarming. Why was she feeling relieved not to have a chance to take the Revinir down, when this was the thing she’d been so set on doing for such a long time?

  They arrived in the square. The stage was set—the same stage Thisbe and Fifer had been tied to and auctioned from more than a year ago. Thisbe shuddered at the sight of it. She averted her gaze, but her carriage kept going toward it. Thisbe remembered that day clearly. She and Fifer, chained to posts. People gaping at them, ready to bid. The twins had set up magical glass barriers around themselves to keep the strangers from getting too close. And then Simber, unknowingly, swooped in and crashed through the glass trying to save them. Fifer had been seriously injured—she still had scars from all the glass cuts. Thisbe had been snatched away by the Revinir and taken down into the catacombs through the elevator.

  When the carriage came to a stop, Rohan held a hand out to Thisbe to help her down. She took it without looking at him, and he gave it an extra squeeze of support, knowing what must be going through her mind. But he had his part to play, and the Revinir was watching everyone. Thisbe walked up the steps to the stage, and the Revinir climbed onto it directly next to her.

  People began gathering around them. Some of them were speckled with scales and wore the glazed look of mind-controlled citizens who’d been subjected to the dragon-bone broth. Others had clear eyes. Suspicious eyes. They didn’t know Thisbe or what she was doing there. But they knew the Revinir and her oppressive ways. They knew what she’d done so sneakily to so many people in their community. They saw the dragons flying aimlessly. Soon those in the front rows noticed Thisbe’s black eyes, and murmurs began.

  The Revinir, who was a small dragon, still made the center of the stage bow under her weight. Thisbe stood next to her and tried to appear calm and confident. But there were a lot of things freaking her out right now. Being on this stage was giving her the stress of horrible flashbacks. Pretending to do this partnership thing was making her anxious about what everyone would think. And trying to plan the ultimate takedown without hurting anyone else was giving her hives, especially when she was having these twinges of doubts. This was definitely not the right time or place for them. Yet she couldn’t get these things out of her mind.

  As more and more townspeople gathered and filled in every available inch of the square, Thisbe’s eyes strayed to the forest, which began just on the other side of the road they’d traveled to get here. She remembered taking the path to Alex’s grave. Finding that mound of dirt with unopened seek spells hovering above it. Having such weird feelings about it. Those feelings continued today. And while she’d made some progress, she still hadn’t fully come to terms with the guilt she carried. She and Alex had been in a fight the last time she’d seen him. And now she was doing something awful. How would he feel about it? Could he possibly somehow sense what she was doing, even in death?

  A pang of dread ripped through her as Fifer came to mind. Thisbe didn’t know why her thoughts were torn away from everything else in that instant and forced on Fifer, but it was strange enough to raise her fears. Then Thisbe realized she was a lot closer to the palace now than she’d been in the castle. Was she back in telepathic range? Immediately she tried to communicate mentally with her twin. She focused on two short sentences. “I’m in Dragonsmarche. Ready to declare partnership.” She thought them over and over, but there was no sense that the words got through like she’d felt before when she and Fifer had practiced this. She must still be too far away. But the thought of Fifer stayed with her, a sharp-edged worry. Perhaps it was because of their location on this stage and the memory of what had happened.

  The Revinir’s big face loomed and came into Thisbe’s space. “I’ll do most of the talking,” the dragon-woman said.

  “That’s fine,” said Thisbe, trying to smile.

  “But I want you to say something too, so the people know that we are in agreement.”

  “Of course.”

  The Revinir studied Thisbe. “All right. I’m ready to get started.”

  Thisbe nodded, trying to look encouraging. Trying to appear like she wanted to be here.

  “People and dragons!” shouted the Revinir. “People and dragons!”

  The crowd quieted.

  “People and dragons,” the Revinir said a third time, “I am here today with exciting news. As a dragon, and your current leader, I am happy to announce that I have come to an understanding with one of the few remaining black-eyed rulers. We have agreed to officially take back this land from the usurpers who have reigned these past forty years. We will restore our world to the way it was meant to be!”

  She paused as murmurs rose up all around them. A few shouts rang out, but they were drowned by a smattering of applause.

  The Revinir held up both front legs and rested on her haunches. Her tail swished around from side to side, occasionally curling around Thisbe’s feet as if to warn her there was no way out. She waited for silence. Eventually it came.

  “I declare here and now that I, as ruling dragon, have entered into a partnership with Thisbe Stowe, the ruling black-eyed human. We agree to come together for the good of our land. Thisbe is a competent leader and… she is my friend. We will work very well as a team.”

  Thisbe was surprised by the Revinir’s soft, complimentary words. She glanced over and noticed the dragon-woman almost had a sheen in her eyes. She’d really meant it. And while that was touching, it was also a little strange, seeing as how Thisbe had been playing her hard all this time. She almost felt guilty. But then a new thought struck her: Maybe the Revinir was playing Thisbe just as hard. That helped chill Thisbe’s heart a little.

  The Revinir was staring at her, and Thisbe suddenly realized she was supposed to speak now. “Yes,” she said loudly, and glanced around, looking for Rohan. He was on the ground nearby, staring vacantly into the crowd. “I am excited to represent all people in this fine land,” she said. “Our partnership restores a symbiotic system that has almost been forgotten. A ruling body that is unique to this land. And I’m honored to step in as co-leader with… my friend, the Revinir.” Thisbe’s eloquent words drew light applause. She turned to the Revinir but continued as if to the crowd, “And so I declare that our partnership should commence immediately.”

  “Commence the partnership!” said the Revinir, with great flair.

  The crowd waited. It seemed like something should happen
, but the Revinir didn’t know quite what.

  Thisbe frowned. “Did it work?” she whispered.

  “I’m not sure,” muttered the Revinir. “I expected the dragons to return to normal, if not the humans—like I told you, we might need some of that ancestor broth for that.”

  “Are there any ghost dragons in the skies that you can see?” Thisbe asked. “If they’re gone, that would be a sure sign it worked.”

  The Revinir frowned. “I don’t see any, but they don’t usually come around here. Except when you humans are up to your tricks.” She eyed Rohan thoughtfully. “He’s the only one of the black-eyed people present here who has lived in Grimere his whole life. I wonder if he knows the history of how the rulership works.”

  “Rohan,” Thisbe said.

  Rohan turned toward her like an automaton.

  “Do you know what has to happen in order for two new rulers to take over this land? Is there any sort of ritual… or something… that we have to go through?” Maybe in a deserted place where we must travel alone? she wanted to add. “Perhaps it has something to do with the ghost dragons,” she speculated aloud, wanting to give Rohan a minute to think, “since they’re the ones who want to be able to leave this life and pass along their duties to the next generation.”

  Rohan didn’t waver. “You are correct. The two partners must go to the cavelands to announce their partnership before the ghost dragons and assure them that the next generation is ready to serve,” he said. “It’s in the history books.”

  Thisbe gave a mysterious shrug at the Revinir. “I guess we didn’t read our history books, did we?” she said snidely.

  The Revinir chuckled. “Why didn’t we ask him in the first place? We’re going to have to fly if we’re to get there by dark.”

  “Do you want to dismiss everyone first?” Thisbe asked her. “We can just tell them it’s done, right? They won’t know the difference.”

  “I like that plan.” The Revinir shouted out to everyone in the area that all was said and done. And she announced, “Everyone who has taken dragon-bone broth, please report to the castle in two days for a remedy.” She turned to Thisbe and explained, “I have the bones being delivered from the catacombs tonight.” And then the Revinir let out a little snarl. “I suppose we should mingle as people are leaving so they think we’re decent.”

  Thisbe nodded. “Good idea.” But she was preoccupied. At least the Revinir wasn’t too mad about nothing happening, but what would she do when nothing happened in the cavelands and the ghost dragons had no idea what was going on? Thisbe would have to take her chance there. Once this was all over, hopefully the red dragons around the palace would snap out of their mind control and leave, and Fifer and Dev could get out of there and rescue Thisbe and Rohan, who’d be stuck in the cavelands once all of the ghost dragons disappeared forever. Success was on Thisbe’s mind now, squelching out the doubt.

  In Rough Shape

  In the palace courtyard, Fifer and Dev were limp and unresponsive. Florence, keeping up her no-nonsense warrior facade, did what she could to make them comfortable. Then she rifled through Fifer’s robe and component vest pockets, looking for the healing kit. She found it but also found the empty cube that had stored an obliterate component and the paper on which Thisbe had written instructions.

  After applying whatever first aid she could to the young warriors, Florence glanced over at where the dragons lay. The one she’d just helped slay was stuck with several sharp objects, like its face was a pincushion. But the other’s head was blown clean away, and the ground near it was marked by a huge hole. Fifer must have used the obliterate spell there. But what had possessed Thisbe to give it to her? Florence was glad Fifer had had it, but she’d told Thisbe under no uncertain terms that the magic was for Thisbe’s use only—no one else had been trained on such a dangerous spell. It could have been a disastrous situation.

  Not that it wasn’t, under the current circumstances. As Florence continued to treat Fifer and Dev, she worried over the letter from Thisbe explaining the obliterate spell. If Thisbe had gone to join the Revinir’s cause, why would she leave one of these monstrously dangerous components with Fifer? It was like giving the enemy ammunition to come after her. And it looked like Thisbe hadn’t given the component to Fifer directly because of the detailed note. It seemed more likely that she’d left it for her right before she’d decided to sneak off. That didn’t seem like something a person would do if they were turning their back on their people—giving them such a powerful spell that could be used against her. It didn’t make sense. Maybe Seth had been right—that the twins had been in on something much bigger than anybody had figured out yet.

  “Come on, Fifer,” Florence muttered under her breath as she gave her another dose of a magical healing concoction she’d found. She was trying hard not to break down. The warrior trainer wiped a tear from her eyes and kept up her commanding exterior because it made it easier to cope. But here they were again. Another leader was down. Near death. How often would this happen? It was horrifying. And if there was anything Florence could do to save Fifer, she’d do it. “Wake up, Fifer. Listen… you did everything right. Please don’t leave us. We need you desperately to stay alive. Please… Simber needs you. I need you. All of Artimé needs you.” She sat back and stared at the spot where her leg should be.

  Florence turned to Dev for a follow-up dose of medicine. Fifer had said his name earlier, or the warrior trainer might not have realized who he was. She hadn’t known there was anyone else here—Fifer hadn’t mentioned Dev in her send communications. In fact, she’d plainly said once that she was alone. Had he just arrived? Why was his back covered with healing burns? They weren’t from today’s battle. Everything was a puzzle for now.

  She kept them both alive. When the two seemed stable and there was nothing else Florence could do for them, the warrior scooted along the ground in search of her leg. She’d never repaired her own body before because it was always better to have someone else’s trained eye to place a body part just right. But now she didn’t really have a choice—she wanted her leg attached in case something else threatened them.

  She found it in the yard not far from where Fifer had brought her back to life. After magically repairing the cracks, Florence maneuvered herself into the proper position to attach the leg to the rest of her body. When she was finished, she got up and tested it. There were a few blades of grass that had gotten trapped during the sealing process and they stuck out of her leg now. And it was a tiny bit crooked—which was why it would have been nice to have Octavia there to catch that mistake. But she walked around on it. Other than a minor limp, she was in good shape.

  Now that Florence was back in one piece, she took stock of her location. The four dead dragons were a big eyesore, and so was the broken-down palace. She stomped out the few smoldering fires that luckily hadn’t spread through the orchard. Florence could just barely see the village beyond the trees. She spotted the river in the back of the property and remembered how important it was for humans to drink, so she filled the two teenagers’ canteens for them. Then she rummaged through Fifer’s vest pockets again and pulled out a send spell so she could contact Maiven. But it was one that had already been used. And it was from Thisbe.

  Florence read it.

  Fife,

  Things will have to happen soon. Alert the troops.

  Thiz

  PS We’re heading to Dragonsmarche today to announce our partnership. Don’t reply.

  This message added to Florence’s confusion about what was really happening. Her suspicions about the twins grew. But there was something more urgent about this. “If this is recent, and the Revinir and Thisbe are heading to Dragonsmarche,” Florence reasoned, “we want some eyes on them.”

  She found an unused send spell and wrote:

  Maiven,

  I’m not sure how much time has passed since I went down, but I’m back up again. All four red dragons are dead. Fifer and Dev are both seriously injured and
unconscious. If they don’t wake up soon… that could spell trouble. Where are you? Can you send Aaron with more medical supplies? And send someone to Dragonsmarche and the castle to keep an eye on things there. Sounds like Thisbe and the Revinir are making their pact in the public square.

  Florence

  She sent it off, noting it went to the north as she expected, which meant Maiven was still in the direction of the cavelands. Then she picked up Thisbe’s note and send spell again and studied them, looking for clues to what was truly going on here. Fifer was somehow in on this, that much was clear—she was aiding Thisbe in this horrible takeover. But was it possible that they’d both turned away from Artimé? Or had Seth’s hunch actually been accurate, that they were somehow plotting together against the Revinir? Either way, it was reckless, and it undermined the safety and future of Artimé. And Florence was beginning to get very worried.

  Pulling It Together

  Partway to their palace destination, Maiven read the send message from Florence. She commanded Gorgrun, Quince, and Astrid to land so she could address Aaron, Ishibashi, Simber, Seth, and Sky and their dragons. “I have mixed news for you,” she announced once everyone was in hearing distance. “The good news: Florence is back up and working. They defeated the remaining two red dragons. But the bad news is that Fifer is hurt quite badly.”

  Aaron’s face paled. “Any details?”

  “No.” The queen waited a moment while that news sank in. “Florence doesn’t seem to know we’re already coming. But she also mentions that Thisbe and the Revinir are announcing their partnership in Dragonsmarche and suggests we send a spy out that way.” She twisted her swagger stick, thinking. “Since we no longer have the red dragons to fight, I agree with her. But I don’t like the idea of someone going alone. Let’s send two.”