Lani’s lips parted in surprise. “What—you mean you’re going?”
“I . . . Yes.” Alex gave her a challenging stare. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Me? Are you kidding? Not at all! It’s just that . . . Well, what I mean is that you haven’t been doing . . . because of your disability . . .” She sighed and gave up trying to explain. “Oh, never mind! I’m going too.”
“Somehow I knew you’d say that.” Alex looked around the room. “Who else is with us?”
Samheed opened his mouth to speak, but Florence interrupted. “We’re all with you, Alex. Obviously. But let’s back up a little. Rushing into this rescue without preparing properly isn’t going to do us any good, and it could get us killed—and Thisbe, too.”
“Yes. Thank you, Florrrence.” Simber nodded in hearty agreement. He looked at Carina and Thatcher. “I think these two can tell you how they werrre caught flat-footed and immediately capturrred in the forrrest in Grrrimerrre. Don’t you think a rrrefrrresherrr courrrse could have helped you?”
Carina looked mortified. “Definitely.”
Thatcher nodded emphatically. “I still don’t feel comfortable. It’s been too long since we’ve trained.”
Florence nodded. “Most of you haven’t taken a Magical Warrior Training class in many years. You’re rusty. I don’t care how good you were back then—your aim will be off. We need to lay out a plan to train and prepare ourselves.”
“Well, of course we do,” said Alex impatiently, “but we also need to get moving as soon as possible.”
Florence put her hands in the air. “Just slow down and listen to me for a moment, Alex. I can’t imagine how desperate you must feel. But please give me a little time to gather information from those who’ve been to the land of the dragons, and we’ll figure out what kind of fighting to focus on and how to do this the right way—so you don’t all end up in the dungeon.”
Alex looked like he was about to object again, but Aaron gave him a warning look. “Okay,” said Alex. “But let’s at least talk through the rescue plan.”
“Of course,” Florence said. She gave him a strained smile, then turned to look at Simber. “First, a question to someone who’s actually been to this foreign world. Do you think Eagala—the so-called Revinir—is going to hurt Thisbe?”
“Frrrom the inforrrmation we have, I don’t think she will,” said Simber. “Therrre seems to be some monetarrry value given to black-eyed people therrre—though they arrre used as slaves, so it’s a bit confusing. But the Rrrevinirrr prrrobably intends to use Thisbe as a serrrvant of some sorrrt. She could have taken Fiferrr too, but instead she left herrr forrr dead, so perrrhaps she saw herrr as useless. That makes me feel strrrongly that Thisbe is alive and being put to worrrk in some way.”
“That’s all very comforting that you think she’s alive,” argued Alex, “and perhaps she really is. But she’s got to be terrified. She could lose hope if we don’t get there to rescue her quickly.”
“She’ll be okay,” Lani said quietly but firmly. “Sam and I turned out okay after something like this happened to us, remember? And after all, she’s your sister—I’m sure she has plenty of drive in her to see her through this. Florence is right. Let’s plan this properly the first time so we don’t add any other disasters on top of this one.” She turned back to Florence and motioned for her to continue.
“Okay,” said Florence. “Thank you. Now, maybe Simber, Thatcher, and Carina can help me figure out who is going to be best suited for this rescue mission. First off, how are we going to get there?”
“Flight is the only way to get past the waterrrfall,” said Simber. He frowned, as if puzzling over something that didn’t seem quite right, but the conversation continued.
“Should our rescue team go with just Simber as our ride?” asked Samheed. “That would have to be a pretty small group.”
“I can take thrrree, prrresuming we’ll rrreturrrn with fourrr. That leaves me with rrroom forrr some supplies, too.”
“Talon can fly,” Florence reminded them. “I can talk to him about going.” Talon was a legendary, large bronze man with wings from the Island of Legends nearby. He and Florence lived there together most of the time, and Florence taught Magical Warrior Training there, though she made occasional trips back home to Artimé as well.
“Perrrhaps Talon could carrry someone,” Simber mused. “Spike could take a few people as farrr as the waterrrfall, and we flyerrrs could ferrry people acrrross the gorrrge to the land of the drrragons.”
Aaron sat forward. “What’s the situation like over there? The terrain, the climate, the distances we have to travel over land? Where is Thisbe, exactly? And how do we find her?”
“I’ll sketch a map,” said Carina, reaching for some paper and a pencil from Alex’s desk. Thatcher leaned in to help, though he’d been very ill when they’d reached the new world, so his memory was fuzzy. “It’s mountainous at first approach,” Carina said as she drew, “but not unpassable on foot. Then there’s a forest, which we could use for cover as we travel toward the city center of Grimere. Is that where Thisbe was snatched up, Simber? About how far from the castle?”
Simber nodded. “The Rrrevinir took herrr undergrrround in the city centerrr squarrre, which hosts Drrragonsmarrrche—a place wherrre goods arrre trrraded and sold. It’s severrral miles frrrom the castle.”
Thatcher smoothed his black coiled hair, then paused and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “The princess’s servant boy, Dev, told us a vast catacomb stretched underneath the city. It would take a couple days on foot to get there once we cross the gorge and reach the cliffs of Grimere. Less time if we fly, of course.”
“Hmm,” Aaron said. “That’s a lot of area to cover. I was also wondering if we would want to bring Seth with us since he knows things.”
Carina startled, then glanced at Sean. “I don’t know about that.”
“And,” Aaron continued, looking at Alex, “what about Fifer?”
“No!” Alex said firmly. “She nearly died.”
Aaron looked at his brother. “She’s already starting to get better with Henry’s magical medicines. And we’re not ready to leave yet by any stretch.”
“Not for weeks,” said Florence firmly.
“Weeks?” Alex sputtered. “It doesn’t matter anyway—Fifer doesn’t know how to do anything. That’s how she got into this mess in the first place. Besides, I promised myself I’d protect her from now on so nothing like this could ever happen again. She stays in Artimé.”
“Perhaps,” said Florence gently, “it’s time to teach her while I retrain everyone else. Even if she doesn’t go on the mission, she needs to know how to defend herself, especially now that we know Eagala is alive and going after people with black eyes. She’ll never be safe—not as long as she lives.”
“But—” Alex wasn’t sure how to respond. His mind was awhirl with frustration and confusion and fear, and his head pounded with grief. At the same time, these events had stirred something inside him for the first time in many years—something once dormant that now twisted and turned, trying to find a way to grow. He was going on a mission once again—something he’d never thought he’d do, mostly because of his disability and how that had changed everything for him.
It was scary. It made him feel vulnerable when he allowed himself to face it: He was the one Florence was referring to most when she insisted they had to train, though she was too kind to say it in front of the others. It was he who was in grave need of relearning his fighting spells if he was going to go on this journey and not be a total hindrance or liability to everyone. Alex must use Florence to teach him more than anyone, using his right arm—it would be like teaching a toddler, he knew. Did he have it in him to relearn now that he needed to so desperately? And could he do it so quickly? It had nagged at him for years that he hadn’t been able to accomplish proper magic on his own with his right hand, since his dominant left arm was out of commission. Was he being ridiculous eve
n thinking he could and should go on this quest?
But finding Thisbe weighed heavily on his mind. He couldn’t bear to stay in Artimé when she needed him most of all. Wasn’t that what leaders were supposed to do? Go out and rescue their people? Especially when this person happened to be his own sister.
It crossed his mind that his sudden decision to go was some sort of reckless response to the grief over Sky that he hadn’t yet processed. He’d hardly had a moment to digest what had happened to her. His heart spun, and he tried not to think about her being swept underwater into the volcano’s gaping maw. She was gone. He couldn’t say dead—he couldn’t let his mind go there. He had to hold out hope for Sky, that there had been some way she’d survived, and focus on Thisbe. One tragedy at a time. It was the only way he could cope with everything that had just happened.
In the depths of these thoughts, Alex’s face crumpled. Aaron sensed his brother’s mental war and came to sit with him on top of the desk, putting his arms around his twin to comfort him. “We’re going to get through this,” he whispered.
Alex took a deep, shuddering breath and blew it out. Then he nodded. “All right. I’m okay. Thanks. Let’s keep going.”
Aaron kept an arm around Alex’s shoulders and tried to stop his own tears from returning. He couldn’t imagine losing his wife, Kaylee—how was Alex handling this news about Sky right now? It was a clear reminder to Aaron and everyone present that their leader was still strong, even if the people of Artimé hadn’t needed to depend on him quite so much lately. Alex moved seamlessly into his role of commander despite what he’d gone through since his injury, not to mention the huge stresses on him because of the girls and their strange, powerful, uncontrollable magic. Aaron turned to Florence. “Based on the information Thatcher and Simber told us about all of the soldiers and the massive size of the catacombs they described, my instinct says we need a larger rescue team. Do you think we can ask for help from the dragons to get us there?”
Carina looked up sharply from her sketch. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she said. “It’s incredibly dangerous for them over there. The Revinir isn’t going to be happy we’ve freed them—she’ll hunt them down, no doubt.”
“Maybe the dragons will just give rides over the gorge?” suggested Sean.
“But how will they know when we’rrre rrready to go back home?” said Simber. “We might not be able to sit arrround in the cliffs arrrea waiting forrr them to show up. And therrre’s no good place forrr them to wait forrr us in ourrr worrrld—they’d have to float farrr frrrom the waterrrfall to keep frrrom going overrr.”
Carina nodded. “Simber’s right. That wouldn’t have worked last time, for sure, with how quickly we had to make our escape. Besides, it’s a bit risky to try to travel the whole distance from the cliffs to the big city square on foot. We’d want to be very clever and have a fast getaway plan—one that allows us all to take flight at once without delay. We must be smart about it.”
“But you said the dragons might not help us on this quest because of the danger,” said Alex. And then he shook his head. “I’m not so sure they’d say no once we tell them Thisbe is trapped there, being held captive by the Revinir as they once were. Especially after Thisbe helped free them.”
Thatcher, Carina, and Simber all looked at one another with questions in their eyes. “Perrrhaps they will,” said Simber finally. “I’ll talk to Pan about it.”
Thatcher spoke up. “Before that could ever happen, they’ll need Alex and the rest of us to fix their wings for good. They’re quite a mess. The kids gave a valiant effort to make new ones with the supplies they had, and the wings got them across the gorge, which is what we really needed from them, but they’re a bit of disaster, to be frank.”
“That’s fine,” said Alex. “Hux’s are already done and waiting for him. We can start gathering materials for the others. So, assuming we can convince at least one dragon to help us, who’s coming with me?” Alex looked at Carina and Simber. “Who among us would you say is best for the situation? Once we determine that, we can figure out how much transportation we’ll need.”
“I already told you I’m going,” said Lani. She looked as though she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“I’ll go as well,” Samheed said.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Carina said. “As much as I don’t like the idea, I believe Seth should go. Thatcher and me, too, and Simber, obviously, since we know our way around.”
“I’ll stay behind for obvious reasons,” said Florence, referring to her size and heavy weight. “But like I said before, Talon may be of use.” She looked at Alex and Aaron. “Have you decided on whether to let Fifer go? She’s really so powerful. With a little training she could—”
“She’s definitely not going,” Alex said, interrupting her.
Aaron gave him a look.
Alex glared back at him. “No.” He turned back to Florence. “No!” he said once more.
“Okay, okay,” said Florence, giving up. “I get it.” She glanced at Aaron. “What about Kaylee?”
Thatcher, Carina, and Simber began nodding immediately. “Her sword skills would be extremely useful in a land like that,” said Carina. “The soldiers were armed with knives and swords and some sort of projectile bows and arrows. Aaron, do you think she’d come along?”
“I’ll ask her,” said Aaron. “I suppose one of us ought to stay back on our island for the sake of baby Daniel and the grandfathers, but I know she’ll agree that this is of utmost importance. Whichever of us seems more useful to the mission is all right by me. Alex, what do you think?” He gave Alex a meaningful look, and a silent conversation passed between them.
Alex gazed at Aaron thoughtfully. He knew why Aaron had deferred to him. Aaron had something no one else had, and not many knew about—a likelihood that he would never die, due to eating some special seaweed many years before. The seaweed was what had kept the scientists alive too, well past the age of one hundred. Not dying was obviously a plus in battle, but this mysterious ability didn’t keep Aaron from being wounded. Aaron’s magical ability was strong, but so was Lani’s, Samheed’s, and Carina’s. So perhaps Kaylee was a better fit for this venture because of her melee fighting skills—that was where the rest of the Artiméans looked to her.
“I think Kaylee gives us something we need,” Alex decided. “Is that enough fighters? Enough variety in skills? We don’t want our group to be too big or unwieldy.”
Simber harrumphed. “You’rrre forrrgetting someone who could be verrry imporrrtant.”
Alex thought hard. “Who?”
“Someone who doesn’t take up much space and has saved the day morrre than once in the past.”
“Ahh,” Florence said, nodding. “And who just happens to have seven lives left.”
Even Alex managed a small smile. “Of course,” he said. “We mustn’t go anywhere without Kitten ever again.”
“But firrrst things firrrst,” said Simber. “If I’m going to ask Pan and the otherrr drrragons for help, you’d betterrr get worrrking on those wings. Having the prrromise of a futurrre gift when asking forrr a favorrr is neverrr a bad idea.”
Cold and Alone
On the fifth day after Thisbe Stowe’s capture, or perhaps it was the sixth—it was hard to remember which—she woke up in her crypt full of bones feeling chilled and more tired than she could ever recall feeling before. And like the previous mornings, the memories of the past couple of weeks came like a stampede. The questions throttled her and left her breathless. Was Fifer dead? Why hadn’t Simber come back for her? Was the Revinir going to keep her down here forever, dragging giant dragon bones for miles every day?
For that was what she’d been tasked to do. Each day she and several other black-eyed children, who were slaves like her, pulled enormous dragon bones from their individual crypts through the wide, seemingly endless passages of the catacombs to the testing room, where others would extract the dragon magic from them. It took
hours to get there through a maze of hallways, following faded red arrows that had been painted long ago on the chiseled walls. By the time Thisbe returned each night, dragging an already tested bone back to her crypt, it was late. She’d get her meal, collapse on the dirt floor, and be locked up again until morning.
On the first day Thisbe, bewildered and afraid, hadn’t dared speak to the other children. As she’d hauled the bone from her crypt, trying to find her way through the maze to the testing room, she’d missed a particularly faded red arrow and had gotten hopelessly lost. She didn’t make it back to her crypt until after midnight, and hadn’t gotten her meal.
The second day, weak with hunger, she’d followed the faint arrows with the utmost care. She’d tried keeping up with one of the other children, and that’s when she first discovered they had black eyes like her. But when Thisbe asked her a question, the girl seemed unable to understand her and unwilling to be caught trying to communicate. Thisbe fell behind. It had been terribly disheartening.
The third day had been the worst, for that was the day Thisbe finally lost all hope and admitted to herself that no one from Artimé was coming back for her. She’d stopped and had a hard cry along a lonely stretch of the passageway, where only one person, a tall boy a year or two older than Thisbe, passed her and gave her the tiniest look of sympathy before continuing. By the end of the day, her hopes had fallen deep into the pit of her stomach and suffocated. With them went the anger. Things had stayed the same after that.
Today she was too tired to move. When she heard a noise at the lock in her door, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, letting a tiny tear leak out before she pushed her sluggish self up. Mangrel, the crypt keeper, had arrived to order her around. The whey-faced old man appeared weak and frightened, but he wasn’t—not in the slightest. Thisbe had found that out the hard way soon after her arrival when she’d still had some anger left rumbling inside her and she’d tried to use her sparks of magic on him. It didn’t work, and he’d knocked her headfirst into a pile of bones.