Scrambling
Thisbe’s appetite for breakfast left her. Now? This was all happening now? Obviously she wanted to get moving on this, but where was Rohan? And had he eaten or drunk anything? Was he okay? They’d been in the midst of a crucial talk when the Revinir had shown up, and Thisbe had tossed all the ancestor broth under the bed. Now, with his orders to go to the kitchen, Rohan couldn’t get to it. And if he’d eaten or drunk anything that the Revinir had spiked, he wouldn’t know he’d be in need of it. If everyone was suddenly heading to Dragonsmarche, neither of them would be able to retrieve the broth anytime soon.
It would probably be okay, Thisbe reasoned. The Revinir wasn’t nearly as focused on him today as she’d been last night. And now she had a lot of other things to keep her busy, like organizing this big announcement, which would lead to… absolutely nothing.
Ugh. That was another problem. How would the Revinir react when she found out that the agreement didn’t magically just make everything become perfect, the way she expected it would? Thisbe would have to act like she was just as surprised. Unless there was a way to take out the dragon-woman before the announcement even happened.
“Why so troubled?” the Revinir said. “Having second thoughts?”
Thisbe looked up and mellowed her expression. “I was just thinking about how fun it was to have Rohan as my mind-controlled servant. I’ll miss that when we bring everyone back to their right minds.” She shrugged. “But I can’t have everything.”
“I think you’ll find the mind control becomes boring over time,” the Revinir confided.
“Really? Interesting,” said Thisbe. “Well, I imagine he’ll be annoyed once we bring him out of it, but he’ll get used to it over time. Like the others.” She turned sharply. “By the way, did you really kill Dev? Or did you just say that for effect?”
The Revinir twitched. “I really killed him,” she admitted. “I wish I hadn’t acted quite so rashly. I was beginning to appreciate him.”
“Oh well,” said Thisbe, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “It’s regrettable. But there’s nothing you can do now, I suppose.” She set the napkin down and got up from the table. “I’ll run to my living quarters to see if I can find something more royal-looking to wear for the occasion. I noticed several things hanging in the closet—whoever stayed in my room before must have left in a hurry. Shall we meet in the grand entryway in an hour?”
The Revinir nodded. “I will find you there.”
Impulsively Thisbe reached out and touched the Revinir’s claws. “I’m glad we’re doing this.”
“As am I,” said the dragon-woman. And she actually meant it.
In the privacy of her room, Thisbe took a moment to sort her thoughts. There was one thing she absolutely had to take a chance on before she did anything else. She went out to the balcony and climbed up on top of the lounge chair. Then she reached for the overhanging roof, pulled herself up onto that, and scrambled to her feet. From there she could see clear skies to the west, which was the direction her send spell to Fifer would need to go. If the direct path it took was over the castle rather than through its hallways or around its outsides, there was a better chance it wouldn’t be noticed, especially with all of the excitement that was happening in preparation for a procession to Dragonsmarche.
Thisbe took the component out of her pocket and reread it. Then she added We’re heading to Dragonsmarche today to announce our partnership. Don’t reply. And then, with a moment of concentration, she sent it off and watched it soar between two towers and fly through the air, just as she’d hoped. In two seconds it was out of sight. “Whew,” she muttered.
Thisbe inched down the roof. She eased over the edge, dangled there for a moment, trying to ignore her fear of heights, then dropped onto her balcony. The drop made her old ankle injury flare up, and she couldn’t walk for a second. When she could put weight on it, she went back inside her room and gave a little shriek. Rohan was standing there.
His eyes were glazed over.
“Ugh, Rohan!” Thisbe exclaimed. “Are you kidding me? We don’t have time for this. Be smarter, please. Sheesh.” She limped over to the bed, reached under it, and pulled Rohan’s rucksack out. She took out several vials of ancestor broth and opened the first one. “Here you go, Rohan,” said Thisbe. “Drink this.”
Rohan didn’t turn. “The Revinir instructed me not to drink anything you give me,” he said in a mechanical voice.
Thisbe paled. “What?” She hadn’t anticipated that. “Well, I’m telling you to drink this anyway. You—you work for me.”
“I cannot.” Rohan didn’t move to take it. Then his face relaxed. “Aw, I’m just messing with you. Be smarter? Really?”
Thisbe’s face exploded. “This is not a good time for jokes!” she hissed.
Rohan shrugged and shot her a half grin. “Sorry.” He took the broth and gulped it down. Then he steadied himself as the wave of images tore through his mind. “Blech.” He held out his hand for another.
“Take all of these.” Thisbe gave him three more, still shaking her head at his shenanigans. “I need to find a dress or something,” she said. “Did you hear what’s happening?”
“I heard the announcement. What are you going to do when you declare your partnership and nothing happens?” He chugged the next vial.
Thisbe hesitated to answer. She’d been so programmed not to tell anyone anything that she was still wary about putting Rohan in danger. But he was in the know whether she wanted him to be or not. And he was downing ancestor broth like a happy little cannibal. So he was protected. Finally she said, “I’m going to be exactly as surprised as she is. And then I’m going to demand we find out what went wrong.”
“So you’re admitting my theory is correct?” Rohan said, stopping his vial sipping for a moment to look at her. “I still haven’t heard your answer.”
Thisbe paused in the closet. She turned her head, conceding everything in one look. “Yes, Rohan. And… I’m so sorry. I’ll explain more later if you like.” What she didn’t tell him was that there was still a conflicted part of her that was enjoying this time she was spending with the Revinir.
Rohan took in a breath and closed his weary eyes for a moment. “Thank the gods,” he murmured. Then he went back to finishing his next vial.
Thisbe felt a great weight lift off her heart, but she still felt the urgency of getting ready for the announcement. She ripped through a bunch of dusty clothes in the closet, most of them looking like they might actually fit, which was curious. She searched for something suitable for a leader that wasn’t too ugly or frilly. Then she happened on a charcoal-gray uniform that had only a few small moth-eaten holes in it. She took it out and looked at it. It was like Maiven’s. Could these clothes belong to her grandmother? Being consumed by moths up here while Maiven was wasting away in the dungeon? There wasn’t time to speculate further.
“This,” she said, and hoped it would fit. She ran with it into her washroom and slammed the door behind her, then tried it on over her component vest. When she looked in the mirror, she took in a breath. She looked so much like Maiven. She hadn’t noticed the resemblance before. But now, with the same suit on and a similar cap perched on her head, it was more than clear that the two were related. Tears sprang to Thisbe’s eyes. She felt like she was betraying everything that Maiven stood for by doing such a terrible deed while wearing the uniform of a black-eyed warrior. “Please forgive me,” Thisbe whispered.
“Is it a good fit?” came Rohan’s voice through the door.
Thisbe blew out a breath and adjusted the jacket, then smoothed her hand over the moth-nibbled area on the lapel. “It’s perfect,” she said. She opened the door.
Rohan, holding four empty vials, nearly dropped them. “My, you do resemble her, don’t you?”
“I was thinking that.”
“You look very smart,” he said quietly. “I believe… if Maiven knew what you were doing to save us, she would feel very good about this.”
“Do you really think so?” Thisbe asked. She turned to him.
They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, all of the angst between them being shoved aside. Rohan swallowed hard, his eyes brimming. Then he slipped his fingers along Thisbe’s cheek, slid them into her hair, and pulled her close. Thisbe’s eyes closed, and their lips met and moved together. When the two broke apart, Thisbe wrapped her arms around Rohan’s neck and held him. “I’m so sorry for hurting you,” she whispered in his ear. “And I’m so glad you figured it out, or I might have died.”
“Thisbe,” said Rohan, overcome. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her. “That was the most horrible time of my life,” he confessed. “But I’m grateful you were willing to sacrifice everything for the land of the dragons. For us. For our future.”
“Next time, we do this together,” said Thisbe.
Rohan nodded, though he said, “I hope there aren’t any more next times.”
Reluctantly they broke apart. Thisbe straightened her suit and tidied her hair once more. “You’re coming with me now, right? You’ll be there with me?”
“I’ll be right by your side.”
“But,” warned Thisbe, “if you see me reach inside my jacket and pull out a tiny box, I want you to run away from the Revinir like you’ve never run before.”