Ghostly Fog

Rohan and Maiven hid in the folds of Quince’s foggy shape. The ghost dragon appeared the same as always to them because they had black eyes, but they knew he was activating his hiding feature, which made him look to others like a thick spray of fog drifting through the air. As long as Rohan and Maiven stayed flat on the cloudlike back of the dragon and Quince kept his hiding feature activated, only black-eyed people could detect that anyone was there at all.

They rounded the castle and discovered Drock sticking close to the back side of it, as if trying to get a look through the vast windows and balcony doors that lined the exterior of the guest-room wing. Quince floated over to Drock undetected. The dark purple dragon didn’t notice anything unusual until Rohan lifted his head.

“Drock,” Rohan whispered. “It’s Rohan. Maiven and Quince are here with me. Do you have any information? What’s happening?”

Drock seemed momentarily puzzled that he couldn’t see Quince at all but remembered what Maiven had told him in the cavelands and accepted the explanation. “That balcony, just there, leads to the ballroom, where the Revinir spends most of her time. Sometimes Thisbe goes out on the balcony with the Revinir. And I’ve finally figured out that Thisbe stays in this room over here. She has a private balcony too, but I haven’t seen her use it yet.”

Maiven sat up. She knew the castle well. “That was my dressing room long ago. Have you overheard anything?”

Drock glanced around to make sure none of the mind-controlled dragons were noticing him. “I have,” he said grimly. “They’ve been making plans.”

Rohan cringed. “What do you mean? What kind of plans?”

“Plans to announce their partnership,” said Drock. “I’m… I’m so sorry. For you and for all of us.”

Maiven seemed skeptical. “But they can’t officially take over just by announcing that,” she said.

“I know,” said Drock. “But I also overheard the Revinir say something about how the other black-eyed people will be coming soon. I think she must know she needs them to vote for a leader.”

“Maybe Thisbe is planning to convince us to vote her into the position of leadership,” said Maiven. She winced. She still had a hard time believing her beloved granddaughter had taken such a sharp turn like this. But the evidence was growing that Thisbe wasn’t as innocent as everyone had thought her to be. Perhaps her time in the catacombs had taken a much deeper toll on her psyche than anyone had realized.

Rohan stared out toward the castle, wishing only to have a glance at Thisbe. He’d be able to tell from her eyes if she was truly with the Revinir. All signs pointed to it, but there was still a part of him that believed something else was factoring into this equation. He wondered if Seth had been onto something when he’d guessed that Fifer and Thisbe were plotting together. It still didn’t make sense, though.

“I need to keep moving,” Drock said as other dragons got a bit too close for comfort. “Sometimes the two of them come out on the balcony at this time of night.” The queen and Rohan ducked back down as Drock continued on his aimless flight.

“Let’s float closer,” Rohan directed Quince.

“Closer to what?” asked the ghost dragon, who seemed to have forgotten his purpose for the moment.

“To the castle,” Rohan said.

“And… where is that?” asked the ghost dragon.

“It’s that building,” said Rohan, trying to be patient. “Go toward that big balcony.”

Quince spied the area and flew toward it.

“Nice and slow,” Rohan said. “Remember, we’re being stealthy.”

“Oh,” said Quince. “I’m glad you told me.”

Rohan and Maiven exchanged a worried glance. As they drew close to the ballroom balcony, the doors swung open. The Revinir ducked her head and stepped out. Right behind her was Thisbe.

“Don’t speak to them!” Rohan said in a harsh whisper to Quince. He was worried about everything now that they were within earshot of the two. He looked at Maiven. “Stay low,” he reminded her.

“You too,” she whispered.

Rohan lifted his head an inch, trying to catch the slightest glimpse of Thisbe without being seen.

“My, the fog is thick tonight,” said the Revinir. “You know the old saying? A change in the weather brings plans together.”

Thisbe didn’t smile. She’d seen Quince immediately. Her face went gray as she realized the Revinir couldn’t see him, and she deduced that Quince was floating outside in stealth mode. Was he alone? She couldn’t see anyone else just yet in the darkness. “I think you just made that up,” she said.

Rohan’s eyes widened to hear her speak like that.

The Revinir cackled uproariously, and Thisbe flashed an uneasy smile. Quince had to be here to eavesdrop, and Thisbe had to give him proof to take back with him. “Our plans will come together as soon as you agree to my stipulations,” she said. “I’m ready to proceed. I want to be your partner! But you’re standing in your own way.”

“Your demands are unreasonable,” the Revinir purred.

“Everything about you is unreasonable,” Thisbe retorted.

“But that’s why you like me,” the Revinir shot back. “You do like me now, don’t you? I can feel it—a bit of admiration, no?”

“Oh,” said Thisbe, jamming her fists into her pants pockets, “oh, yes. Your intuition is strong—it always has been.” Thisbe abruptly turned. “Let’s go back inside. This… fog… is making my hair frizzy.”

Rohan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Thisbe was complimenting the Revinir. The two had laughed like friends. Rohan knew that Thisbe was a good actor. But was she this good? And for what purpose? He was more confused than ever. And now she was leaving the balcony. Obviously she must have seen Quince since she had black eyes too. But was she trying to keep away from him? Rohan lifted his head another inch, and then another.

The Revinir didn’t seem pleased about going in, and she stayed in place, blocking the doorway so Thisbe couldn’t get in either. Thisbe looked annoyed and nervous. She glanced at Quince and narrowed her eyes.

The ghost dragon stared back, surprised, because this was the friend of the ghost dragons—they answered to her call. Didn’t she recognize him? Or couldn’t she see him in stealth mode? In his confusion, Quince’s body slowly materialized from the fog, revealing two human shapes on his back in the process. One of them slipped out of sight, but the other lifted his head. Light from the ballroom revealed Rohan’s face.

Thisbe caught sight of him and gasped. The Revinir turned to look and gasped too. “That patch of fog—it was a ghost dragon in disguise? And Rohan! What is the meaning of this?”

Maiven, who had slid to the far side of Quince, stayed hidden under the base of his wing. But Rohan was caught. He ducked down and muttered under his breath. He hadn’t realized Quince had returned to his normal form.

The Revinir snarled. “Rohan!” she said again. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Thisbe didn’t know what to do except stay in character. “Get him!” she cried. “The little sneak!”

The Revinir lunged over the railing and took flight. Before Quince could change course, she reached and grabbed Rohan by his shoulders and his rucksack.

“Augh!” Rohan cried. He squirmed and whispered, “Don’t wait for me!” to Quince and Maiven over his shoulder. The Revinir yanked the young man over the balcony railing and into the ballroom. She dropped him to his feet and shoved him to the floor, spitting bits of fire everywhere in her anger.

Thisbe’s heart split into a thousand pieces. Why did he have to do this? But she kept her face from showing any emotion. She steeled herself, then followed the Revinir and Rohan into the ballroom. Then she stared down at the person who completed her soul in every way.

He saw her. “Thisbe,” he pleaded, shielding himself from the sparks and trying to crawl over to her. “What are you doing?”

Thisbe didn’t answer. She averted her gaze, looking instead at the Revinir, who seemed to be watching Thisbe very carefully to see what she would do. “Amateur,” she said lightly to the dragon-woman, and laughed. “He’s harmless enough, isn’t he? More good than evil, you always said. What shall we do with him? Kick him out of here? I can’t imagine he’ll come back. Will you, Rohan?”

“I highly doubt it,” Rohan muttered.

The Revinir’s concern melted from her face, and she laughed too. “We should at least offer him some tea before we decide. And,” she added in a darker voice, “find out what he knows about the locations and activities of the others. Keep an eye on him.”

The Revinir called for hot water and went to the sideboard. She rummaged around in a cupboard, setting up tea for three.

Thisbe was hardly able to function. She stood frozen. She couldn’t look at Rohan.

He could have made a run for it. But Rohan stayed on the floor. “Thisbe,” he whispered.

Thisbe’s bones melted. But somehow she remained strong.

“Thisbe,” he whispered again. “You’re breaking my heart, pria.”

Thisbe felt a moan about to burst from her chest. But she stopped it with the fire in her throat. “Don’t speak to me,” she snapped, a bit harsher than she’d intended. But she had to show the Revinir that she was annoyed by his presence.

Rohan’s mouth slacked. He could only stare.

The Revinir brought the tray of tea to the table and commanded Thisbe and Rohan to join her. The two did as they were told.

“Sugar for your tea?” the Revinir asked, poised, then dropped a cube in each cup without waiting for the answer and stirred them. She passed the cups out, then lifted hers to her lips and sipped. “Tell us where you’ve been, Rohan. What do you know?”

“I know that Thisbe betrayed our people,” he said, tight-lipped.

Thisbe’s brain was frozen. She shrugged, hardly able to feel the movement. She still couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m doing what’s best for me,” she said. “You’ll benefit in the long run, when you don’t have to fear being kept a slave anymore. I’m sorry if you can’t see that, but it’s obvious to me.”

“Oh, Thisbe,” Rohan said.

His voice dripped with disappointment so thick that Thisbe could hardly stand it. She lifted her cup and took a long sip, hardly able to taste anything but needing the distraction. What was she supposed to do now? What was the Revinir going to do to him?

The Revinir kept a close eye on both of them, realizing that this was a pivotal moment in her ability to trust Thisbe as a partner. So far she was passing every test, and the Revinir was admiring her quite a lot. But there was one more test she needed to pass.

“More sugar, Rohan?” the Revinir asked. “Too hot? Perhaps some cream?”

Rohan’s eyes were crazy with emotion, and he could hardly think straight. “No,” he said dully, then sipped his tea, trying to buy time and figure out what was going to happen next. Imprisonment?

The tea was soothing, and he drank the rest, worried that in the dungeon he might not get a meal for a while. A strange warm feeling came over him. When he set his cup down it bobbled in the saucer, and the table wavered in front of him. He sank back in the chair.

Thisbe looked up at the sound and saw the Revinir staring intently at Rohan with a small smile on her snout. Thisbe glanced at Rohan and gasped. Scales sprouted on his arms. And his eyes glazed over. Confused, Thisbe stood up and looked at the sideboard where the kettle of hot water still steamed. Beside it sat two empty vials.