Thisbe relaxed her stance a little, and her faint feeling subsided. Exhaustion was hitting her hard now that the immediate stress had lessened and Artimé was safe. The people around her knelt on the Revinir’s back to help keep their balance, so Thisbe knelt too, holding on to one of the many spikes that now adorned the Revinir’s spine between her wings. Clearly the woman was continuing to take dragon-bone broth. Was she intending to fully become a dragon? Would she ever decide she was dragon enough?

With the Revinir focused ahead and the sunrise providing light, Thisbe slowly sat back. Carefully she glanced over her shoulder and confirmed that the people around her were black-eyed slaves. She recognized the glazed look of one fellow worker on the left—it was Prindi, the girl Thisbe had tried to talk to on her first day in the catacombs. Prindi didn’t return her gaze. Thisbe faced forward again to make sure the Revinir was still focused on steering everyone toward Grimere, then turned to glance over her other shoulder. Her eyes widened. She took in a sharp breath and nearly clutched her throat but stopped herself from reacting just in time.

It was Rohan.

A Momentary Relief

They’rrre turrrning arrround!” Simber growled from the air above the mansion. He circled and flew down to Florence on the lawn. “They’rrre turrrning arrround! Something must have happened to stop them.”

“Did you see anything? Anyone?” Florence asked anxiously.

“They’rrre too farrr away. I can only detect that they’rrre moving west now.”

Florence’s expression was steel-like, as if she wasn’t quite ready to believe him. “Can you look again? I want to be completely sure.”

Simber didn’t argue—he almost couldn’t believe his eyes either. He took a running leap and flew up and around, going farther out to sea this time and hovering for a good long moment, eyes trained on the spot of movement heading back toward Warbler and the volcano island. The sky was brightening, which helped. He stared so long his eyes began to water. When he was certain beyond all doubt, he returned to the lawn. “They arrre definitely heading west,” he said. “I’d bet my life on it.”

Florence brought her hands to her forehead, her expression awash in relief. “I’m shocked,” she said. “I really can’t believe it. We’re saved.” She hesitated, then dropped her hands and said, “Do you want to alert the head mage? Or do you want me to do it?”

Simber’s face turned pained. He didn’t like asking anyone for favors. But he considered the task, finding such a simple thing exhausting. Frieda Stubbs was sucking the life out of him. “Will you do it forrr me?” he asked meekly.

“Of course. I’ll do anything to help you. You know that.”

“And I, you. Thank you, Florrrence. I . . . I rrreally apprrreciate it.”