Dragon Curse Read online

  Knowing the Revinir was less than a day-and-a-half’s distance away was overwhelming, and it made Thisbe want to give up—there was no chance that they’d figure out a solution to this plan in so little time. But it was their only hope. The three sat together on the lawn and talked about their experiences with the Revinir, hoping for a breakthrough.

  Sky explained what it was like when the Revinir was Queen Eagala. “You might not know that Eagala was the younger sister of Marcus Today and the High Priest Justine. She was quite a bit younger, and when Justine and Marcus left Warbler as teenagers to begin Quill, they left Eagala behind. Some say that Eagala never got over that. She desperately wanted to go with them. When they wouldn’t allow it, she hated them.”

  “Wow,” said Thisbe. “So decades later, she took it out on her own world to prove how powerful she’d become? And she attacked anyone who came from Quill—right? Like Samheed and Lani. Was that all because of her grudge against her siblings?”

  “That’s what most Warblerans believe.”

  Drock snorted angrily, making Sky and Thisbe dodge a blast of smoke.

  Sky continued. “She took over the rulership of Warbler when her parents died, and completely changed everything. Even her name—she began to call herself Eagala and demanded everyone use names related to earth and nature. Thus my name and my brother’s: Sky and Crow. And Copper. And Phoenix, and Scarlet, and Thatcher . . . You get the picture.”

  Thisbe thought this through. “It’s interesting. I’m not sure how it can help us, but maybe there’s something more to the story of how she felt spurned by her brother and sister.”

  Sky shrugged. “I’m not sure either, but it seems important to her motivations, I guess.” She shared a few other stories about Eagala’s penchant for having a throne room to keep her secret writings and possessions in. Thisbe shared that the Revinir had done the same thing in the catacombs.

  Then Sky told the other two about how Eagala had eventually put a silent spell over the entire island so she could more easily detect strangers coming ashore.

  “Why?” asked Drock. “Was she afraid of strangers?”

  “She was very possessive of her people. She didn’t want anyone leaving. She believed people would come and steal us away.”

  “That rings true,” said Thisbe. “That must be why she’s coming all the way out here. She can’t stand it that Drock and I escaped. She told me once that she had big plans for me—she kept trying to get me to be her special assistant.”

  “So she’s greedy, she’s possessive, she’s power hungry, and she’s angry about her siblings not including her,” said Sky, summing things up so far.

  “What was her reason for the thorn necklaces and the orange eyes?” Thisbe asked.

  “That was part of her controlling process,” said Sky, touching the scars at her throat. “The orange eyes were like a brand—like what she did to the back of your neck, Thisbe. It’s her symbol that she owns you. She came looking for Crow and me back in those early days too, after we escaped and landed here, because she said we belonged to her.” Sky paused thoughtfully. “The thornaments came about after she realized that her silence spell over the island didn’t stop humans from being able to speak. She wanted to control us and keep us from communicating.”

  Drock looked up. “That was part of the reason for the muzzles on my siblings and me. Mostly to stop us from breathing fire or attacking her with our teeth, of course. But she didn’t like us communicating.”

  “And now she controls minds in order to stop ordinary communication between slaves,” said Thisbe. She turned to Drock. “Tell us more. How did she manage to capture you in the first place?”

  Drock frowned. He didn’t like to talk about it. But after a moment he gave in and shared about his time in captivity and how the Revinir had first captured the dragons. “We’d just arrived across the gorge, and we were hungry and innocent and looking for water so we could fish. We knew that was supposed to be our land, and I suppose we expected the people there to be good. We should have noticed there were no other dragons around—we thought we just hadn’t gone far enough yet to find them. We shouldn’t have trusted the first person we happened upon. But she gave us food, and we told her our story. Then she . . .” Drock cringed, then continued. “She told us there was special lodging in the castle for guest dragons. She went to arrange it.”

  “Oh, Drock,” said Thisbe, pivoting between incredulousness and pity as the story unfolded.

  “I know. We were naive. But her offer of special lodging in the castle—it sounded like a dream come true. After ten years of running and hiding from the pirates and giant eels in this world, we wanted desperately to believe that the land of the dragons was everything our mother remembered it to be. Finally we felt we were being treated properly! That’s what we thought, anyway. We didn’t know the dragons had all been driven out by the current rulers.” He grimaced, and a line of smoke rose from his nostrils. “We found out later that the Revinir had negotiated with the king to take us captive. And that together they would use us as their slaves.”

  “That’s the saddest story I’ve ever heard,” said Sky. “I can understand how you were taken in because of your expectations.”

  “After we were muzzled and chained in those dungeon stalls, they only used one of us at a time and threatened to kill the remaining four if the one being worked tried to escape.” He hesitated. “Captivity was horrible. After a while I . . . stopped speaking.”

  “You’ve taken it up again, though,” said Thisbe encouragingly, “which has been very helpful. We’re going to find a way to fight this and make you all free again.” But even as she said it, her heart sank, because there was no possible solution to this imminent problem.

  Sky spoke up. “How are you able to withstand the Revinir’s call, Drock?”

  Drock looked out to sea and was quiet for a moment. “I’m not like other dragons,” he said finally. “That’s all I know. My lack of focus and inability to concentrate is saving me, I suppose. I hear and feel the roar, though. And its pull is getting stronger. I fear . . . I fear one day . . .” He didn’t finish.

  Thisbe nodded solemnly. She knew his fear all too well. That someday they might succumb to it like everyone else had.

  Drock turned to Thisbe. “How are you managing to resist the roars?”

  “I drank a vial of the ancestor broth, in addition to the dragon-bone broth. She forced me to test it. We didn’t know if it held power—in fact, the Revinir still doesn’t know that it does anything at all. She tried it, and it doesn’t affect her. I lied to her—told her it did nothing to me. But it’s as powerful as the roar. Its effects fight against her call, leaving me paralyzed and blinded by images of that troubled land’s history.”

  “Did you take in equal amounts of both broths?” asked Drock.

  “I guess so,” said Thisbe.

  Drock shifted and looked intensely at Thisbe. “Where does she keep the broths?”

  “In the throne room inside the catacombs,” Thisbe told him.

  “Oh.” Drock seemed to deflate. “It’s a shame we can’t get more of it to dilute the dragon-bone broth’s effects on your system,” mused Drock. “It might tip things in the right direction for us.”

  Thisbe’s eyes widened. “But, Drock,” she said slowly. “I do have some more.” She jumped to her feet. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Splitting Up

  Thisbe ran into the mansion and up the staircase, then down the girls’ hallway to her room, shouting at her magical door to let her in so she wouldn’t waste time. She smashed her shoulder into it, for it unexpectedly didn’t open. Grabbing the handle, she rattled it hard. “It’s Thisbe!” she said. “Let me in, stupid door!”

  But the door remained locked. “What is happening?” Thisbe muttered. And at such a hectic time! Had Aaron’s announcement put the mansion on lockdown or something? “Hello!” she shouted.

  The door opened, and Fifer’s face peered out. “Hi,�
�� she said stonily.

  “I’m in a hurry.” Thisbe pushed the door impatiently, but Fifer’s foot blocked it from being able to open wide enough. “Fifer, what are you doing?”

  “I—I moved your stuff out,” Fifer said. Her eyes were red rimmed. “Just like you wanted. There was an empty room down the hall—I piled everything outside. You can’t miss it.”

  Thisbe stared. “Fife,” she said, and brought her hands to her forehead in dismay. “What the— Why? Are you serious?”

  “You said you wanted your own room. I figured I’d help.” Fifer crossed her arms and blinked furiously to keep the tears back.

  Thisbe let out a frustrated noise, then backed out of the doorway, defeated. She looked all the way down to the end of the hallway. Sure enough, there sat a messy pile of her things. “You picked a terrible time to be awful,” Thisbe said in disgust. “Check your blackboard.” She turned and ran down the hallway.

  Fifer frowned and closed the door.

  As Thisbe approached her new room, the door swung open, sensing her presence. But she didn’t go inside. Instead she rummaged through her stuff, searching frantically for the ancestor broth that she’d swiped. She’d given one bottle to Rohan and kept the other one for herself. But where was it? She checked all of her pockets and treasure boxes and dresser drawers. Finally she uncovered it from the mess and held it up. The liquid glistened inside. “There,” she whispered. “Thank goodness.”

  Leaving everything strewn about the hallway and the door to her room standing open, Thisbe took the vial of broth and ran back the way she had come, past her old room, where Fifer skulked inside, no doubt feeling terrible once she learned about the Revinir’s approach.

  Thisbe felt a twinge, but she hardened to it. Fifer had been mean. Sure, she was probably hurting. But she hadn’t needed to retaliate in this ridiculous way like a child. And now Fifer was probably regretting it, for she certainly couldn’t have known that the Revinir was coming for Thisbe.

  “She’ll be sorry soon enough,” Thisbe muttered. “But right now she’s not my problem.” Breathing hard, Thisbe reached Drock on the lawn and held up the vial. “Here it is. Do you really think it will help drown out the roar?”

  “It seems logical,” said Drock. “And maybe it’ll give you even more insight into the history of our land.”

  Thisbe bit her lip, feeling her stomach churn. The memory of the time she’d drunk it before was a difficult one. And the stuff had tasted pretty awful. In order not to gag, she had to get past dwelling on what was actually in that vial and just drink it down. She took the top off and sniffed it tentatively, then made a horrible face. “No doubt it tastes better steaming hot than lukewarm,” she remarked. Before she could allow herself any more thoughts about it, she plugged her nose, then threw the broth into the back of her throat and swallowed. She gagged reflexively, but held the liquid down.

  A second later, a new series of images flashed before her eyes. But she could hardly pay attention to them, because at that moment, a huge group of people burst out of the mansion. They were yelling harshly, demanding Aaron’s immediate removal from the office of head mage.

  • • •

  Alone in her room, Fifer woke up her blackboard, Desdemona, and read the announcement that Aaron had posted to all the blackboards in Artimé.

  Attention, everyone! I regret to inform you that Drock the dark purple dragon has spotted the Revinir (formerly known as Queen Eagala) coming this way with a fleet of dragons. They will arrive sometime tomorrow. If you are a trained mage, please load up your component vests and meet Florence on the lawn tonight after dinner for more details and training exercises. If you can use traditional weapons, gear up and join the mages, for we need you most of all. We believe the Revinir is seeking to capture Thisbe Stowe and will attack Artimé ruthlessly to get to her. Unfortunately, our magic is not strong enough to fend off her or the dragons she controls. We are working on a solution now. Stay tuned for further details and instructions.

  Fifer stared at the words, hardly comprehending them. Then she looked around the room, now void of everything belonging to Thisbe, and groaned. “I’m a terrible person.” She ran to the window and looked out, spotting Thisbe on the lawn with Sky and Drock. Aaron and Florence and a few others were nearby. And streaming out of the mansion was a huge group of dissenters—way more than Fifer had ever seen before. They were heading straight for Fifer’s family. And they were spitting mad.

  The Chaos before the Storm

  By the time Fifer found Seth and the two wormed their way through the crowds to the lawn, the number of dissenters had increased even more. Cleary, Frieda Stubbs had been recruiting followers in her quest to stop Aaron from being their leader. And the recent news that the Revinir was coming to attack had convinced a whole lot more people that maybe Frieda was right.

  Florence tried to quiet them all down, but she made no progress. They began chanting “Fire the mage! Save our land!” over and over again in unison.

  “Like that’ll help,” muttered Seth to Fifer. “Let’s all stand around shouting while the Revinir closes in with a bunch of enemy dragons.”

  “These dissenter people have no idea what they’re talking about,” said Fifer. “They weren’t there. They didn’t see what the Revinir has become.” She squinted, then pointed toward the jungle. “Come on. I see Thiz hiding over there behind Drock.”

  “Thank goodness he’s here, or this might be a hundred times worse.”

  “It’s already bad enough. Besides, I need to apologize to Thisbe. I screwed up.”

  “What did you do?”

  Fifer told him.

  Seth snorted and shook his head. “That was kind of ridiculous, don’t you think? Why would you do that?”

  Fifer frowned. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I’ve just been feeling really bad lately about . . . stuff. But it’s not all my fault. She said she wanted separate rooms.” Everything was a mess. And it wasn’t just Fifer’s relationship with Thisbe that had gone wonky. Seth had been annoying at the party, and though she’d forgiven him by now for walking off without her, their relationship was strained. And there was also Simber—she’d grown so close to him after Alex died. But since they discovered Aaron was the new leader, Simber had all but abandoned her. It felt like Fifer had lost everyone, and none of those people seemed to care. Why weren’t their hearts breaking for her like hers was for them?

  She couldn’t wallow in her sorrows now, though. Her twin was in danger. And whenever Thisbe was in danger, Fifer stepped up. There was no other way to be twins, in her mind. No matter what arguments remained unsolved between them.

  “Thisbe!” Fifer called out over the dissenters. She waved, then pushed through to Thisbe’s side. “I was thoughtless and selfish. I’m sorry. I’ll . . . I’ll bring all your stuff back to our room.”

  Thisbe stared icily at Fifer for a long moment. “Do you think I care about any of that right now? Did you even read the blackboard?”

  “Yes!” said Fifer. “Of course! That’s why I said I was sorry. And . . . because of moving your stuff out too, but mostly I care about the Revinir coming after you.”

  Thisbe just shook her head and turned away. “Drock, can we go somewhere away from this noise so we can figure out how to survive an attack by the Revinir? You know, since you and I are both in a lot of imminent danger?”

  Fifer wasn’t sure if the noise Thisbe referred to meant her or the dissenters. Her face fell. Before she could sort out whether she should try apologizing again, or do something else, Drock threaded his tail around Thisbe and put her onto his back. Then he lumbered to the water and pushed out to sea, leaving Fifer and Seth watching them go.

  “Maybe we’d better try helping Aaron instead,” said Seth dryly.

  “She’ll come around,” said Fifer with determination. “I know my sister. At least . . . I used to.”

  “She’ll come around? The Revinir is coming to abduct her! She’s got a lot on her mind right now besid
es you.” Seth just shook his head at Fifer. “Not everything is about you all the time. You know that, Fifer?”

  Fifer stared at him, unable to think of a comeback. Why couldn’t she get anything right? After a moment, Seth left. He pushed through the crowd to where Florence was standing, acting as a bodyguard for Aaron, and asked if there was anything he could do to help. Fifer frowned after him, not sure what to do.

  Fifer’s sadness turned to indignation as she mentally reviewed what had just happened. She knew very well that not everything was about her. It made her mad that Seth would say such a thing. Fifer also knew that this situation was really serious—why else would she step up and apologize to get back on Thisbe’s good side when the whole “getting a new room” thing wasn’t even totally Fifer’s fault? She was just trying to quickly clear up that little altercation so they could work on the real problem, which was obviously the Revinir. But they had at least a little time before the dragon-woman would be here. Fifer had figured a few minutes patching things up wouldn’t make a difference.

  But Thisbe hadn’t appreciated the gesture, much less understood it for what it was: an effort to get them on the same page so Fifer could help stop the Revinir. So now what? After a moment, Fifer plowed after Seth to Aaron’s side, determined to get something right. Because everything she did lately seemed like a big mistake.

  “Hey!” Fifer shouted, heading for the protesters. “Everybody just stop it! Stop acting like a bunch of babies! Do you seriously think now is a good time to get rid of the head mage? With the Revinir on her way here? Let me tell you what she’s like, in case you haven’t heard.”

  But the dissenters didn’t want to listen. Especially Frieda Stubbs, who turned to Fifer and got right up into her face. “Your family is the reason the Revinir is coming here!”

  Fifer felt her face get hot. “We’re trying to fix this!”