Shortly after, Fifer saw Alex come down the stairs and join them. Florence and Alex went outside to the west side of the mansion, opposite the lawn, which was generally secluded and very private—almost no one frequented that side since it was small and bordered the former Quillitary grounds, which didn’t offer pleasant reminders to the people of Artimé even though they were at peace with Quill now.
Crow returned to the hospital ward. “Florence wants us to go to the west window,” he said quietly. “Are you feeling up to it? I’ll carry you.”
“Sure!” said Fifer, eager to do something less boring than lying in bed. “What are they doing?”
“You’ll see.”
Fifer set her plate on her bedside table. Crow scooped her up and carried her out of the ward and across the entryway to a window that faced the west lawn. “Stay hidden now,” he said. “We don’t want Alex to see you. But watch closely. Florence told me she’s starting training from scratch with Alex so she can teach him how to strengthen and use his right arm as deftly as he once used his left.”
“Are you serious?” Fifer breathed. “That’s wonderful! I’m surprised he’s willing to do it.” She’d only seen Alex do a few spells in her lifetime because he’d discovered the hard way that Fifer and Thisbe could learn magic just by watching, unlike others who had to try things multiple times to have success. Not to mention Alex refused to do much because of his injury. He’d tried on his own to do magic right-handed, but had eventually given up in frustration because he knew he’d never be as good as before. Now he looked like a young Unwanted sent from Quill, learning how to use his creativity to perform magical spells.
“He must really want it for Thisbe’s sake,” murmured Crow. “I mean, to let go of his pride in order to train like this—like he’s brand new at it—it’s quite a shock. But it’s because he loves you two so much. I know he doesn’t always show it. But he’s showing it now, isn’t he?”
Tears sprang to Fifer’s eyes, and she nodded.
They continued watching, fascinated, as Florence stood outside in the shadow of the mansion with Alex. She worked with him on using his right arm, bringing it through the complete range of motion necessary to release a proper throw. Over and over she led him to complete it, without holding any spell components. He stopped once and argued, making Fifer and Crow wonder if this would be the premature end of his training, but then he let out a frustrated sigh and went at it again. After a while, Florence had him do it on his own while she cast a critical eye and corrected him over the most minute errors.
Fifer watched intently, then gingerly mimicked the action, trying to do exactly what Florence was teaching Alex.
An hour passed and Alex got upset again by Florence’s nitpicking. But again he apologized and continued, determined.
“What’s gotten into him?” said Fifer. “He must be so tired by now. And he’s not giving up, even though he’s not very good.”
“He doesn’t want to mess up the rescue mission,” Crow surmised. “He’s bent on going, and he can’t bear to be the one who flubs up everything.”
“He should let me train and go along with them,” Fifer grumbled. “I won’t flub up.”
“You’re training right now, aren’t you?” asked Crow. “I know that’s why Florence wanted you to watch—so you can learn the basics. She’s going to be doing a training session on the lawn later with the whole team and you can watch then, too, as long as Alex doesn’t see you.”
“Not on the Island of Legends?”
“No. Florence made some excuse that they don’t have time to waste traveling back and forth.”
Fifer smiled. “I know Florence is doing this secretly for me, and she could get into trouble with Alex. But I want people to know I’m old enough now and see that I’m training. I want to wear my very own component vest, like Seth, and walk around without people being scared I’m going to make dishes explode in their faces or birds rain down on them. I want to know how all the spells work, and I want to use them to save my sister!”
“You’ll get there soon enough. Thirteen is only months away.”
“A lot of months.” Before Fifer could fire off more of a retort, they heard a footstep in the hall and saw Seth coming toward them. “Hey,” he said, a smile breaking out on his face. “There you are. I saw your bed in the hospital ward was empty, and I’ve been looking all over for you.” He wore his freshly cleaned component vest, its pockets bulging.
Fifer eyed him, feeling a twinge of jealousy. “Hi,” she said. “Shh. We’re watching Alex learn to do magic.”
Seth snorted, as if the idea were preposterous. “He’s the head mage. He’s supposed to be the most powerful magician we have. I don’t think he needs to learn anything.”
Fifer raised an eyebrow. “Of course he knows the spells, but he can’t cast them very well. He’s relearning that part.”
“Finally,” said Seth. “I’m glad.” Then he grew troubled. “With Thisbe and Sky gone, he must feel really terrible. Worse than any of us.”
Fifer blinked back tears. The news that Thisbe was still back in the land of the dragons had been shocking enough, but learning of Sky’s tragic disappearance had been horrifying. Nobody would say out loud that she had to be dead, but everyone suspected it.
“Did you hear?” Seth asked her. “Simber says the Revinir is Queen Eagala.”
Fifer nodded. Crow had told her that morning.
Seth went on. “Maybe that’s why Alex wants to go so badly—so he can get revenge.” He watched out the window. Florence had Alex doing strength and resistance exercises now to build up his muscles. He was getting a full workout.
“I don’t know,” said Crow. “But I think he really just wants to rescue Thisbe. He feels responsible for you three running away. That’s the way he is about everything.” He paused thoughtfully. “Though no doubt you’re right too, Seth. If Eagala had done that to me . . . heck, I might even be taking magic lessons right now.”
Fifer studied Crow, who often clued her and Thisbe and Seth in to the more nuanced things about Alex that they might have overlooked from their perspective. Crow had lived in Artimé since before Mr. Today, the previous head mage, had died, and he’d seen Alex in a very different light.
“At least I get to go along and help,” said Seth, picking a bit of lint from his vest.
Fifer whipped her head around to look at Seth. “What?” she shrieked. The window they were standing at popped and shattered.
“Aw, crud!” muttered Crow. He grabbed Fifer and dove for cover; then he scrambled to his feet with her in his arms and ran, tripping and laughing, back to the hospital ward. A flock of birds soared into the mansion through the broken window.
“Fifer!” shouted Alex from outside.
“At least she’s alive!” Seth shouted back to him, then ducked and ran after Crow.
The three of them huddled on Fifer’s bed, a feeling of doom replacing the ridiculousness of their mad dash to safety. What would Alex do if he knew they’d been watching him? Hopefully he wouldn’t suspect that—not with Fifer supposed to be stuck in bed. And it wasn’t unusual for her to be able to break a window from a distance. Perhaps he was feeling generous toward her today after all she’d been through.
They waved away the birds that had gathered around. One of the larger ones, a falcon colored in beautiful jewel-toned feathers of red and purple, fluttered and landed on Fifer’s bedside table. It looked up expectantly.
“Hi, bird,” said Fifer in a dull voice. She was tired of the useless flocks always appearing. Somehow this one’s presence had her missing Thisbe even more just because she wasn’t there to object to them.
The bird bobbed its head, which made it appear like it was bowing. Fifer reached out gently and ran a finger down its long neck, admiring its shiny crimson and indigo feathers. It seemed to shimmer even more at her touch.
“That’s the prettiest bird I’ve ever seen,” said Crow.
Fifer nodded. “It’s big for a f
alcon, isn’t it? And the coloring is so unusual.”
“Ishibashi told me these kinds of falcons have bunting feathers,” said Seth. “He said they just started showing up on his island and around here in the past several years—they’d never seen one before then. Now they have a big flock of them that live over there.”
There were a few more of the large colorful falcons among the flock. Some of the other, smaller birds made their way back out of the mansion the way they came in, but the initial red-and-purple one remained on Fifer’s bedside table. With Thisbe not there to object, Fifer shrugged and stroked its feathers some more. The bird shimmered again. Then it began preening.
“I think it likes you,” said Seth.
Fifer fancied the idea of having it stay. “It’s my new pet,” she declared. “If it wants to be, I mean.” She turned to it and said earnestly, “You can come and go if you like. At least until someone fixes the window. And there’s always the door—if you stand there long enough, it’s bound to open eventually.”
“Aren’t you going to name it?” asked Crow.
“We’ll see if it stays,” said Fifer. “And I’ll think about it. But I’m not sure Thisbe will like me adopting a bird while she’s . . . away. It wouldn’t be nice for her to come home to that.” None of them wondered aloud if Thisbe would indeed ever come home, but the thought crossed their minds.
After a minute Fifer gave Seth a pained look as she remembered what he had announced before the incident with the broken window. “So they’re leaving me here and taking you with them,” she said. It was more of an accusation than a question.
“Yes,” said Seth, appropriately abashed.
“I can’t believe you actually want to go,” said Fifer, “considering our experience. I mean, you didn’t exactly enjoy yourself.”
“But this time we’ll have real mages. And Simber.”
Fifer gave him a withering look.
“I won’t have any fun without you, though.” Seth didn’t say more, and the three slipped into an uneasy silence. Fifer moved the small stack of books on the table so the bird had more room, and then she got under the covers. “Looks like Alex isn’t too mad about the window. If he’s not coming to holler at me, I think I should take a nap so I can get better.”
Seth and Crow took that as their cue to leave. They said their good-byes and went out of the hospital ward, leaving Fifer quite alone with the falcon and her thoughts. She turned to face the wall, but she didn’t sleep. Her mind mulled over Thisbe, and birds, and magic, and Sky, and component vests, and mostly about how Seth was allowed to go on the rescue mission but she wasn’t. And her heart didn’t know which way to go with it all.
A Major Clash
Thisbe waited in the Revinir’s outer chamber for more than two hours, alone except for a couple of soldiers. She’d had plenty of time to roam around the vast, parlorlike room, looking at a variety of artwork and sculptures made from bones. There were carvings out of individual bones and larger works constructed from multiple bones. And there were picture frames constructed from bones connected at the corners by golden thorns.
In the center of the room there was a small dragon skeleton completely assembled. It must have been from a young hatchling, and it upset Thisbe more than she expected. She couldn’t look at it without growing emotional. What had happened to the poor young thing? And why would someone ever want to put that on display, as if they were proud that it had had an early demise?
By the time the Revinir called Thisbe into her inner chamber, she’d decided she wasn’t going to blindly do whatever the woman wanted just because she was worried about what could happen to her. She was going to speak her mind and oppose the ruler at every turn.
“So,” said the Revinir, her clothing today revealing dragon scales around her collarbones. “Here I am, face-to-face with my match from my weaker days. I hope you don’t think you can destroy this magic.”
Thisbe’s face burned, but she wasn’t going to let the woman intimidate her. Instead she asked sharply, “How can you hate dragons so much when you want to be one?”
The Revinir looked surprised. Her face turned angry. “You don’t know me at all. I revere dragons.”
“Then why would you use them as slaves?”
“I’ll ask the questions, thank you,” she retorted. “How did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Destroy my magic?”
Thisbe sighed. “Look, lady, that wasn’t even me, okay? Get your facts straight.”
The Revinir stared at her. “You will respect me,” she said evenly. “Or you’ll suffer.”
“I’m already suffering quite a lot,” Thisbe pointed out.
“You don’t know what suffering is,” the woman seethed. “You’ve had a very good life, I suspect. Unlike some.” She sniffed.
Thisbe frowned. Was the Revinir trying to get Thisbe to feel sorry for her now? She wasn’t having it. As the woman droned on about her great reverence for enslaved dragons, Thisbe folded her arms across her chest and began plotting the woman’s demise.
First Thisbe would have to learn how to control her magic. Now that her bone runs were going faster, she had a few hours every night to do that. It might take a while to master it, but if she had anything, it was time. Then she’d have to figure out how to take out the Revinir’s personal guards and probably Mangrel and the soldiers at the intersections near her crypt.
Oof. That was a lot. And even then, if she was able to disarm and disable that group, including the Revinir, it didn’t mean the rest of the soldiers would do what she wanted. They’d certainly go after her. So, if there weren’t any who would pledge allegiance to Thisbe, she’d have to fight them as well. And she still didn’t have a way out, unless she injured the elevator guards too, or could get across the river.
It felt like an impossible task. She certainly couldn’t do it alone—maybe some of the other slaves would help her if she could figure out how to communicate with them. Could Rohan help with that? If only there were a way to get a few of the soldiers to trust her, she might be able to deceive some of them long enough to get the other slaves and herself to the exit.
But then what? All jump into the river and be swept under? Or miraculously manage to fight the current and get across, only to reach the exit and fall to their deaths trying to climb down the mountainside?
It was a jumbled mess of ideas. She’d have to figure everything out later. For now, she tuned in to what the Revinir was saying.
“And besides,” the woman said, “I like the idea of having someone else magical around to help me manage the other slav—I mean servants. I think you can be an asset to me. Since you are more evil than good, you’ll be a good fit as my assistant. You won’t have to drag bones anymore. And together we can work toward a common goal.”
“What?” Thisbe’s eyes widened. What had she missed? “Work together?” she said, feeling suspicious, not to mention repulsed by the idea. “To do what?”
“To take a stronger hold over this land. And others, too.”
“Others?”
“Other lands,” the Revinir said a bit impatiently. “Weren’t you listening? You are more stupid than I thought.”
“I’m not stupid. I—I just want to be sure I understood you,” said Thisbe. She thought for a moment, trying to make sense of it. “What other lands, exactly?”
The Revinir scowled and didn’t answer. “You’ll start now.”
Thisbe blinked. She was pretty sure she knew what other lands the woman was talking about—the lands where other dragons and black-eyed people were hiding, which Rohan had mentioned. And she probably meant the world of the seven islands, too. “No I won’t,” she said adamantly. “I don’t want to be your assistant. I’m not going to help you.” Her eyes sparked without warning, so she seized her chance to lean forward and look dangerous. “And if you try to make me,” she warned, “I’ll destroy you, like my sister did once before.”
The Revinir laughed. “You ca
n’t.” But she seemed uneasy. She stood up and began to pace. “I’m presenting you with a great opportunity. Perhaps you need some time to think about it. I know it’s a big step. But we’d be much better working together than fighting each other. And since no one seems to care that you’re here, well, maybe you’ll change your mind in time.”
“That’s not true!” Thisbe said, getting up. Then she lowered her voice. “Don’t count on me changing my mind, ever.”
The soldiers looked to the Revinir for direction. Frustrated, the woman waved at them to let the girl out. “Make her carry two bones a day,” she said. “Maybe that’ll help her decide that a job as my assistant won’t be so bad.”
Thisbe frowned and tried not to let the Revinir see the tears that sprang to her eyes. Two bones a day? She hadn’t done anything to deserve this fate. And now things were getting worse. Her work had been doubled. How was she going to do that? There weren’t enough hours in the day to do them one at a time. She’d have to pull them both at once. “You’re mean!” she shouted as she left, pulling out of the grasp of the soldiers who tried to control her. “And you’re the stupid one if you think making me do more work is going to convince me to be your assistant. It only makes me hate you more!”
• • •
Later, struggling with two bones, Thisbe got a few sympathetic looks from the other children, who’d ignored her until now. Rohan passed her early on, hesitating like he wanted to help her. But Thisbe was upset, and she didn’t feel like being helped at that moment, not even by Rohan. Plus, she didn’t want him to get caught after the Revinir forbade him from talking with her. She held his gaze, then looked away. After a moment, he whispered, “I’m sorry,” and continued on.
By the time she’d reached the testing room and was on her way back to her crypt, again with two bones, Thisbe’s shoulders ached. The harness cut into her skin. How she wished she could be home in Artimé, going to dance and theater and learning mechanics and gardening from her nice brother, Aaron. But she was here with the evilest person in the world. She felt her anger simmering just below the surface, and occasionally tiny sparks shot from her eyes or her fingers. It was past time to embrace the destruction inside her and let it out.