Thisbe understood.

Then Florence and Thisbe took a day trip out to sea in one of the pirate ships that was big enough to hold Florence’s weight. With them they towed an old boat that was no longer seaworthy or of use to the people of Artimé. They stopped near a sandbar some distance off the northern coast of Quill and maneuvered the old boat onto the sand. Then they sailed a short distance away. When they’d gone far enough, Thisbe removed one of the four components from its box and held it tightly in her hand. She concentrated as Florence had instructed and threw it with all her might.

“Obliterate!” she cried. She and Florence hit the deck and covered their heads with their hands. The component found its mark. An explosion roared, shaking the ship and rattling through Thisbe’s chest and ears. Splinters rained down on them. When it stopped, Thisbe and Florence gingerly went to look out over the water. The boat—and the sandbar!—were completely gone. Only tiny bits of wood floated around them.

“Oh my,” said Thisbe under her breath. “Everything is… gone.”

“That’s how powerful the obliterate spell is,” said Florence. “I wanted you to see it. And I hope you never need to use it.”

“That was such a wide area of coverage,” said Thisbe. “Good in a few situations, I suppose. But not in others. I’ll definitely think hard about using something like this, Florence. You can trust me to be careful.”

“I do trust you,” said Florence, “or I wouldn’t have given them to you.”

They returned to Artimé as the sun set. Thisbe carried her three remaining obliterate components in their little indestructible boxes inside her vest. As they anchored the ship in the lagoon, they could see a group of former dissenters carrying out their sentences, working to swab the decks on the other ships. There was another group digging on the lawn near the existing garden, creating a spacious new extension for Henry’s herbs and other medicinal plants.

“Looks like Fifer came up with some good sentences,” said Thisbe.

“Do you wish you’d stepped into the role?” Florence asked her.

Thisbe hesitated. Sure, she’d thought about it. More as a way to protect Fifer from the people who were threatening her than because she wanted to rule Artimé. She still couldn’t shake her feelings about how she’d lost Alex and the guilt that had come with that, and she couldn’t stand the thought of losing Fifer the same way. At least the twins were on the road to healing their relationship. But Thisbe continued to fear for Fifer’s life in the role that had taken one Stowe already.

“Sometimes I think about that,” Thisbe said carefully. “But not because I want to run this land. My heart is in Grimere. But I can’t stand the thought of those prisoners on the Island of Dragons coming back after they’ve served their sentence and doing something… terrible.”

Florence nodded. “I’m worried about that too. I want you to know that Simber and I will be acutely aware of that when the time comes. None of us want to lose another Stowe.”