From a castle turret, stuck behind a crisscross of rusty iron bars, Dev peered out into the darkness and waited for the Revinir to bring him the dragon-bone broth she’d threatened him with. It wouldn’t be long before he descended into oblivion again. Would Thisbe come to save him in time? Had she figured out where he was?

As he stared moodily into the darkness, a sliver of moon appeared above the treetops. Dev looked closer, then squinted, not quite believing what he was seeing. The moon lit up a pair of ghost dragons who carried a party of riders across the gorge. With a sinking heart, Dev realized who they must be, and that they were escaping without him.

“Thisbe!” Dev screamed through the bars. But the dragons didn’t turn back.

He screamed her name again, but to no avail. A rush of air escaped his lungs, and then another, until he was sobbing. Devastated, he collapsed against the cool stone wall and watched them grow small, feeling an ache in his stomach larger than the one caused by Shanti’s death. He’d been abandoned by the ones he’d saved.

A long time after they were out of sight beyond the mist, Dev dried his tears and set his jaw, pressing his mouth in a tight, grim line. He was alone against the Revinir. His choices were simple and horrible. He could drink the broth, or die fighting the monster. Either way, there was no longer any hope for him. He closed his eyes and pressed his back against the stone, welcoming the cold.

•  •  •

Once across the gorge, while everyone else settled down to sleep, Thisbe pulled the note and pencil from Florence out of her pocket and wrote:

Dear Florence,

Stay strong. We are coming to help. Please keep Fifer and Aaron safe if you can. I can’t bear to lose anyone else.

—Thisbe

With a hitch in her breath and a blunt feeling of fear hammering her heart, she folded the note along the creases, then tucked the tiny pencil inside. Holding it in front of her, she concentrated, then whispered the magical word and sent the message soaring across the sky like a shooting star, pointing the way home.

Acknowledgments

Hello to all the amazing people in my life! If you are reading this, you are one of them. I like you. A lot.

Some of you are in the publishing industry and you worked on this book. From editorial to art, marketing to publicity, library to sales, I want you to know I value you and your amazing abilities that I don’t possess. I take comfort in the fact that if creative people get banished from our dystopian world and are sent to their deaths, you will be there with me, along with everyone who reads these books. It’s going to be a good time.