The Summons

As Thisbe disappeared into the darkness on the dragon’s back, Fifer kept sending short mind messages to her, and Thisbe sent some in return. They came through fairly well at first. But the farther away Thisbe got, the more words were missing. When Thisbe sent “I can see the castle,” Fifer only heard “I… see… castle.” Usually Fifer could figure out the missing words and guess what Thisbe was saying. In this instance, she assumed Thisbe was saying “I can see the castle,” instead of “I cannot see the castle” because of all the other clues that went with it: Thisbe had left on a dragon after commanding him to take her to the castle. Dev and Fifer had watched as the dragon flew off in its direction. And they both knew that was where Thisbe intended to go. But what would happen when they no longer knew what Thisbe was doing?

It made Fifer uneasy. She stayed by the window as time ticked by, questioning the plan. Were they doing the right thing?

Long after the dragon was out of sight, Dev came up beside Fifer. “We should get some rest,” he said.

Fifer nodded. She sent another telepathic message to Thisbe, but this time she didn’t get a response. “I think she’s out of range.” Fifer sighed and turned away from the window. After finally having been so close with Thisbe again, Fifer was emptied out. She looked at Dev and felt a sudden surge of warmth and appreciation for him. “I’m really glad you’re here. I’d be very lonely without you.”

Dev’s mouth twitched and he almost smiled, but he was feeling something strange inside of him too. He was worried about Thisbe, but it was more than that. Like the three of them had become a family in the time they’d spent here in this dilapidated palace. It was something Dev had never had before. And now that Thisbe was gone, he experienced a loneliness that was unlike what he’d felt in the past. Worse than when Shanti had died. This was much sharper. Deeper. More personal. He was as glad to have Fifer by his side as she was to have him. He was aware of a new level of emotion that he’d never encountered before, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. It threatened to bubble out and spill all over the library if he wasn’t careful to rein it in.

Back at the castle, if he’d ever let his emotions out, he’d have been punished or ridiculed. But Thisbe and Fifer carried no judgment about such things. They cried freely when they felt like crying. And when Dev had lost it in the catacombs, Thisbe had accepted it as if it were normal. It felt liberating and somehow stifling all at once. Like, now that it was okay to cry or shout or be angry, he had some burden to do it. Yet he still felt the urge to batten it down.

He turned away without saying anything and went over to his sofa, leaving Fifer puzzled as she watched him go. She knew Dev had been raised differently than she had been. But she’d expected some sort of a response. After all, she’d just said something quite kind to him. It made her wonder if maybe he didn’t want to be here with her… or maybe, after all he’d been through, he was just afraid of getting close to anyone ever again.

---

In the morning Fifer went to the desk according to the plan they’d finally decided on. She removed one of the send spell components from her vest, took out the pencil that accompanied it, and wrote:

Dear Florence,

I only have two send components and didn’t want to use one until it was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, that time has come. I am sickened to have to tell you that Thisbe has joined the Revinir’s side—she stole away during the night. Please come if you can. I’m trapped at Ashguard’s palace surrounded by dragons. Maiven will know how to find it. Just… please. Come.

Your friend,

Fifer

Fifer showed the note to Dev. “Does that look right? It’s time to send it.”

Dev read it. “Just like we talked about.” He scrutinized it again. “Yes, it’s good. She’s going to ask why Thisbe would join the Revinir when she knows the two of them can’t take control of things due to the rules.”

“Exactly,” said Fifer, looking up at Dev. She took a deep breath and let it out. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are,” said Dev.

Fifer replaced the pencil and rolled up the note, then concentrated on Florence. A moment later the component flew from Fifer’s hand, down the staircase, and out across the yard. It went due east, leaving a tiny trail of smoke behind it that soon disappeared. The risky plan was in motion. Time would tell whether they were ready for the consequences.

“Well,” said Dev after a moment. “That’s done. Ready to call in the birds?”

Fifer nodded. “Since we’re not sure how long it’ll take them to get here, I think we should do it now.” She let out a shrill whistle that nearly pierced Dev’s ears. “Let’s go outside near the orchard. That’ll be a good place for them to roost.”

The two friends went down to the yard. It was strange to have one of the dragons missing, leaving a long gap almost big enough to make a run for it. They both noticed it and looked at each other, but neither said it. It wasn’t needed. There was nowhere to escape to. Every civilized place available would be too difficult to navigate. And it would take only a few steps or wing flaps for a dragon to catch up to them.

They sat on the grass and waited. The last time Fifer had seen the birds was right after the Revinir had abducted her and Thisbe. The dragon-woman had tragically killed several of them, and Fifer had ordered the rest to retreat. They were magical, so there was a chance they could travel much faster than normal birds. And sometimes they followed her, but she hadn’t seen so much as a single red-and-purple feather since they’d retreated, so she assumed they were still in Artimé, waiting for their next command. Fifer hoped they were able to hear her whistle from this far away. They hadn’t failed her yet.

After a while a glowing ball of light came zooming past the dragons and stopped in front of Fifer. She reached for it, and it melted into a note in her hand.

Dear Fifer,

What? How? Doesn’t Thisbe understand that without support from the dragons and the black-eyed people, they can’t rule anything? This is madness! Something sounds fishy.

I’m coming with a small contingent. Stay safe.

Florence

Fifer grimaced. “Yikes. She doesn’t believe it.”

“We expected that,” Dev pointed out. “Now you respond.”

Fifer took the pencil and added on to the conversation.

Florence,

Thank goodness you’re coming. Yes, Thisbe knows that. But she took a hard fall early on and has been a bit out of sorts ever since, talking about being more evil than good. Then she mumbled something yesterday about there being another way…. I didn’t know what she meant by that until she disappeared with one of the Revinir’s dragons. I’m afraid she has something sinister in mind. I’m sick about it—this isn’t the Thisbe everyone knows.

Fifer

She sent it. Then she sighed deeply and looked at Dev. “Tell me this is going to work.”

Dev held her gaze. And though his face remained troubled, he answered, “It will.”

While they waited for the birds, both of them a little on edge, Fifer studied Dev. He’d seemed especially moody since Thisbe had left. Dev didn’t notice her—he was staring at the nearest dragon, the one at the back corner where the orchard met the river. He could feel his scales rise as he brought heat and fire to his throat and let it simmer there. After a minute he made a low growling sound.

Fifer grew alarmed. “Was that you?”

Dev nodded, not wanting to speak as he tried to make the roar come out louder and more forcefully. All the while he watched the dragon. It was hard to roar like a dragon without feeling ridiculous. He wasn’t sure how to get the grisly roll of sounds to build and expand in his chest rather than in his throat.

He tried again, and it came out a little louder. The dragon didn’t seem to notice. Then Dev got to his feet. He jogged in place for a minute, then swung his arms wide to open his chest. Fifer watched him, half-intrigued and half-amused. What was he trying to do?

Dev took in a deep breath and held it while he brought the fire back up to boil in his throat. Then he flung his arms back and opened his mouth, letting out a mighty roar that surprised both of them.

It surprised the dragons, too. The nearest one started toward them.

“What are you doing?” Fifer whispered harshly. When the dragon kept coming, Fifer got up and started dragging Dev to the palace.

Dev pulled his arm away. “Watch,” he whispered. “Let’s see what happens.”

“What did you say to it?”

“I have no idea.”

Fifer watched as the dragon continued toward them. “This is a bad idea, Dev,” Fifer said. “It’s not part of our plan.”

“I know, but it could make the plan better.”

The dragon let out a roar of her own. Dev’s eyes widened. He roared back, and the dragon stopped and stared at the two of them. Then she opened her mouth and sprayed a line of fire at the grass in front of them, scorching it.

“Dev!” said Fifer, abandoning him and making a run for the palace. “Please don’t mess up everything!”

Dev glanced after her, then looked back at the dragon. He couldn’t tell if the creature was angry or if it was ready to obey, like the one at the front corner had done when Thisbe had roared. But he didn’t want to mess up everything, like Fifer had said—especially not if it would put Thisbe in danger. So he went after Fifer, waving off the dragon in case that would help end whatever it was that was happening. He could try again another time. But it was good to know he could roar like Thisbe.

Back in the library, Fifer was mad. Between huffs from the speedy climb up the stairs, she said, “You could have gotten us killed.”

“They’re not going to kill us,” said Dev, breathing hard too. “You, especially. And they don’t seem bothered by me, either. They haven’t been ordered to kill. That’s obvious by now. At least not while we stay on the property.”

“But there’s no reason for you to call them to us,” said Fifer. “We don’t want to go to the castle like Thisbe did, and you definitely don’t want these dragons to tell the Revinir that you’re alive.” She lowered her voice. “That was really reckless. Just because they haven’t hurt us yet doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous. They’re dragons.”

Dev frowned, then conceded the point. “I’m sorry. I just wondered if they’d listen to me if I roared like Thisbe did. I was thinking maybe we can command them to do other things.”

Fifer tipped her head thoughtfully. “I doubt that. They’re under the Revinir’s control. Not ours.”

“But Thisbe did it, so why can’t I? I have scales and black eyes, and I managed to roar. What other dragon qualities does Thisbe possess that I don’t? I was just trying it out.”

Fifer considered it. “That’s a good point,” she admitted. “Maybe we can use them somehow. What if… what if all the black-eyed people who have taken in the dragon-bone broth can affect the mind-controlled dragons in some way? That would be phenomenal! What a breakthrough—and the Revinir probably doesn’t know.”

“I wish I knew if Thisbe had just roared at that dragon randomly, or if she felt like she was saying something to it.” Dev turned to ponder it and spotted movement out the front window. He rushed over to get a better look. “Something’s coming,” he said, his voice strained. He could see several dots heading their way.

“Are they dragons?” asked Fifer. She moved to stand next to Dev and peered out. “Is it Thisbe? Or the Revinir?”

After a strained moment, Dev shook his head. He turned and looked at Fifer, who was as close to him as she’d ever been, barring their hug on the stairs when Dev had found them in his library. Something in his stomach flipped, and he caught his breath. “It’s your birds,” he said. “They’re on the way. I nearly forgot.”

“Oh, of course,” Fifer said. “That’s a relief.”

They watched them coming in and realized they were carrying the hammock, like usual. As they approached, the front dragon turned his head sharply. He stood up and faced them, as if he found their approach threatening in some way. And then, as Shimmer and the rest of the birds came swooping down over the dragon toward the palace, the fire-breathing creature let out a mighty roar, throwing flames from his mouth a hundred feet into the air.

“What? No!” Fifer screamed. She gripped Dev’s forearm. “Stop! Oh no!”

But the billowing flame caught the flock and the canvas hammock as if they were made of tinder. Everything went up in a cloud of smoke.

When the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of them.