In the Cavelands

The shock of what Thisbe had done was starting to wear off, but the pain of betrayal was increasing for Rohan. Charged with nothing to do but wait for news upon Florence’s return, he tried to keep busy. Sky was compassionate, and the two ended up fishing together most of the morning. Maiven and Simber kept an eye on him too. And while there had been talk of a castle flyby on a ghost dragon, they wouldn’t do it until darkness fell. Simber wanted to put off those plans until Florence was back with information that could potentially give them insight, so the longer Florence was gone, the lower the chance of tonight being the night to make a move.

It was excruciating, really. Whenever Rohan allowed himself to think about it, he felt sharp stabs of pain like shards of glass raking through him. As the day progressed, he began to scan the sky to the south, looking for Astrid and Florence, until he could hardly do anything else.

Seth tried to help Rohan too, but to be honest, he was almost as out of sorts as Rohan. Thisbe had been one of his dearest friends since they were young, and he just couldn’t see her doing anything like this. Out of everyone, Seth felt most like something else had to be going on that none of them could understand quite yet. Maybe he believed that because it gave him comfort or lessened the pain. Or maybe it was because he’d witnessed firsthand how the twins worked when their backs were up against the wall.

But inevitably, whispers about the levels of good and evil in a person began in earnest. Was there something to it? And was evilness genetic? Aaron kept to himself once he started hearing speculation from others about the very thing he’d been thinking about. He knew that what Thisbe had done wasn’t his fault. Yet he caught the glances, like always. His past followed him everywhere. There was no escaping it, and he accepted that he’d done something worthy of an infinite number of apologies. That was part of his punishment, in his eyes. There would never be a time when he’d be done apologizing… at least not as long as these people were alive. Maybe one day, when he was Ishibashi’s age and all the people surrounding him were new, he would be able to escape judgment. Believing he might be immortal because of the seaweed that Ishibashi, Ito, and Sato had given him to save his life years ago, Aaron was forced to think about that, as well. What was worse than living a life full of apologies? Watching everyone you loved die and never getting to do so yourself.

A mood settled around him, bringing him way down. Not even Ishibashi could give him something good to ponder. Everyone was feeling it as they waited for Florence to return with something—anything—to soothe their worries. And Aaron had an increasingly bad feeling that what Florence was about to tell them wouldn’t be good.

When a dot appeared in the sky, the anticipation increased. When they realized Astrid was riderless, they were struck with fear. Was Florence okay? She had to be, Simber assured them. They began to speculate: Had Florence been able to land and see what was going on? Were the dragons as docile as they’d all hoped? Was she staying indefinitely?

But then doubts crept in. Why hadn’t she sent a message telling them what was up? Would she really delay the conversation half a day by sending a message with a forgetful ghost dragon?

As the speculation turned dark, Aaron found Simber, and the two waited together, beginning to fear the worst. “This isn’t good,” Aaron said.

“Something isn’t rrright,” Simber said.

Finally Astrid landed. It took some coaxing to help her remember why she wasn’t carrying a rider. But then she did.

“The red dragons attacked us,” Astrid recalled. “Florence slayed two of them. But the other two fought and dragged her off my back, and she fell a long distance to the ground. She broke into a thousand pieces. Maybe a million. She’s dead.”

Simber gasped. Aaron, Maiven, Rohan, and the rest stared in disbelief. Florence dead? It couldn’t be possible! But imagining the warrior trainer falling from a great height was stomach-churning. Everyone began talking at once.

“She’s not dead,” said Aaron firmly, above the noise. “I know how to fix her.”

“You’rrre not going therrre,” said Simber. “It isn’t safe.”

“Fifer can fix her, then. Why hasn’t she contacted us? Didn’t Florence drop the supplies?” He pulled out a send component and started writing.

“She dropped them as the dragons attacked,” Astrid recalled. “I don’t think they hit their target, though.”

“I’m sending instructions now,” said Aaron. “Good grief—I hope Fifer knows about the time we brought you back from a pile of sand, Sim.”

“She knows,” said Seth. “We’ve read all the books. She’ll think of it.” He was still horrified at the image of Florence breaking into a million pieces. How would Fifer put her back together? It would take forever! He hoped Astrid was exaggerating or remembering it wrong.

Meanwhile Rohan was getting anxious. Surely they weren’t going to wait for Florence any longer in order to do a stealthy castle flyby. They needed to go now so they could travel both ways under the cover of darkness.

Once Aaron sent his message to Fifer and things settled down, Rohan spoke to Maiven. “I’d like to take a ghost dragon to the castle. Will you let me? Please, Grandmum… we have to do something.”

Maiven nodded. “Oh yes, we do,” she said. She didn’t like waiting any more than anyone else. She called to Quince, who was camped nearby, and asked if he felt up to a nighttime mission. The ghost dragon was eager to help.

Rohan ran to grab his rucksack and canteen. But before he returned to the dragon, he stopped to rummage through a small suitcase that the black-eyed children kept their extra things in and pulled out a few supplies. Then he went to Quince and climbed aboard.

Maiven followed, grasping the dragon’s bony wings and climbing up after him.

“What are you doing?” Rohan asked.

The queen looked up. “It’s my castle,” she said. “I’m going with you.” She turned to Simber and Aaron. “We’ll be back by daylight. Hopefully with answers.”