Puzzling Developments

Fifer unfolded the paper around the small cube that she’d found in her robe pocket and soon recognized it as a long note written in Thisbe’s hand. The box rolled onto the floor next to Fifer. As she read the note, her eyes widened. She stared at the paper. And then she reached for the box and, with trembling fingers, picked it up and examined it from all sides, seeing the small, innocent-looking pebble inside. Carefully she tucked the cube into her component vest’s inner pocket for safekeeping as Thisbe had suggested in the note. Then Fifer read the paper again, scrutinizing it to make sure she understood everything, from how to get the box open to how the spell worked.

Thisbe had done a good job explaining it. And Fifer had read about the obliterate component that Alex had used long ago and vowed never to re-create because it was so dangerous. Now here was Fifer, holding one close to her heart. It was a bit unnerving, and Fifer wasn’t sure she’d ever feel okay using it. But Thisbe had been very unselfish and possibly even reckless in giving it to her. Fifer would honor the gift.

“What is that?” Dev asked, looking at the back of the paper.

“It’s a note from Thiz. I just found it.” She explained what it had been wrapped around.

“Yikes,” said Dev. “That sounds dangerous.”

“About as dangerous as messing with a dragon,” Fifer said, giving him a side eye.

“Hey,” Dev replied sheepishly. “Have you heard from Florence?”

“I was just about to use my last send spell to check in with her. I wish I didn’t have to, but she didn’t reply.”

“No sign of them yet, I take it?”

“Thankfully no.” She pulled her last send component out and wrote:

Florence,

I wanted to make sure you got my last instructions. If not, please do not come to Ashguard’s palace. There are three dragons here with large fire-breathing ranges, and they will attack.

Please go to the cavelands until we figure out what to do. This is my last send component, so please reply if you can. I am alone.

Fifer

She looked at Dev and smiled. “I’m glad I’m not really alone. This is tolerable with you.”

“I’m glad you’re here too,” said Dev. He moved carefully and strained his neck trying to see his back. “I can’t believe how much better this is feeling. Your magic is powerful.”

“All thanks to Henry.” Fifer sent the component and was surprised when she didn’t see it zoom out to the east. There was no sign of it from any of the three windows they could see out of. “It must have gone north,” said Fifer, running from window to window to make sure she didn’t miss it.

“That would be the direction of the cavelands,” said Dev. “So that’s a good sign.” He looked around the library. “Where’s my shirt? Is it totally destroyed?” He was just glad his skirt hadn’t caught fire. That could have been embarrassing—once the pain went away, that was.

“I had to cut it off you,” Fifer said, returning and sitting down next to him on the sofa. “I’m glad you don’t remember it. It was pretty horrible. You screamed a lot.”

“I did?” Dev asked. “Yeah, that’s all a blur. I think I was in shock. Thanks… for taking care of me.”

Fifer smiled. “I washed your other shirt. It’s probably dry by now. Hanging on the bannister.” She slid down and rested her head on the pillow, staying curled up so she didn’t accidentally bump Dev’s burns. “I’m going to take a nap. I didn’t sleep much last night. Wake me up if you need anything.”

“Sure.” As Fifer closed her eyes and drifted off, Dev got up slowly. He stood for a moment, then tested how it felt to move. His wounds had been extensive, and without Fifer’s medicine he’d be in excruciating pain right now. Instead the pain was tolerable, and the wounds were scabbing over properly. He walked slowly over to the bannister to get his shirt, then eased it on, not sure he liked how it felt against his raw skin.

Leaving it unbuttoned, Dev went toward the east window but paused in front of a book that was lying on the floor. He pushed it with his toe into the light and saw it was a book about dragons written in the ancient language. The cover illustration depicted humans slaying a dragon. Unable to bend too far without opening his wounds, Dev flipped the cover open with his foot and used his toes to turn the pages. He studied the drawings, noting the different weapons that the people carried. With the right kind of wood and a bit of metal, Dev could carve most of them. He already had a good start on a few.

Inexplicably the image of the gray-haired man returned to his mind, and that made him think of the drawings he’d found, especially the one of the girl in the orchard. He went over to the desk and found the book that he’d slipped that picture into so many weeks ago, and he pulled it out.

The sight of it struck him hard in the chest, and he knew suddenly why the girl looked so familiar. She resembled one of the other black-eyed slaves, whose name Dev had never learned because they’d been under the Revinir’s mind control almost the whole time he’d worked in the catacombs. But he’d seen her in the hallways when he’d first gotten sent down there. He was sure of it.

He looked back down at the drawing. When had this been done? The edges were battered, and the image was yellowed with age. It couldn’t have been just a handful of years ago—it had to be much longer than that. So did that make this someone’s mother? Maybe Fifer would see the resemblance too, and know the name of the girl from the catacombs.

Dev felt a surge of hope, like he’d found a way to reunite the girl with someone, even though it was only a portrait. It was better than nothing. But his heart crashed just as quickly when he realized that if the drawing was of the girl’s mother, it couldn’t be his mother. And maybe that meant that this palace belonged to the girl… and not to him.