That’s really all Dev had fought for every day for as long as he could remember. To survive. But this was the first time he felt like he might not make it.

The Revinir whirled, jerking her tail inside the room and reaching for the doors she’d entered through. She grabbed them and slammed them shut so Dev couldn’t escape. Then she lifted her foot. “Don’t try that again,” she said.

Freed, Dev inhaled a ragged breath and coughed violently. He curled up on his side and took in a few more desperate breaths. With each, a searing pain cut through his chest, making him wonder if the Revinir had cracked some of his ribs. Eventually the gray spots vanished. Dev looked up at the dragon-woman, not hiding all the hatred he had in his heart for her.

“I know how to get you to tell me the truth,” the Revinir muttered. She shoved two vials of dragon-bone broth at Dev. “Sit up and drink these. Now!”

Dev felt his muscles go weak again. He’d known this was coming. Ignoring the pain in his chest, he gingerly rolled and sat up. As he did so, he could feel the vial of ancestor broth in his pocket. Thisbe had slipped it to him before he’d come to the castle. “Just in case,” she’d said. Dev knew it would work as an antidote to the dragon-bone broth. The only problem was that once he was back under the Revinir’s mind control, he wouldn’t know to take it… and he might accidentally confess to her that he had it, which would have horrible consequences. Was there any way he could fake drinking the stuff that the Revinir was handing him? Or perhaps do some sort of sleight-of-hand trick with the one in his pocket?

He coughed again to buy himself an extra second. The movement brought with it another ripping pain in his side. As he made a show of wiping his nose and eyes on his sleeve, his other hand went to the pocket and slid the vial out. He palmed it, keeping it hidden.

“Good grief,” said the Revinir with disgust. “Do you have to go on and on with your dramatics? There’s no way to avoid this. You’re stuck here with me, and you’ll drink this broth now. Or…” She looked around recklessly, and her eyes landed on the window. “Or I’ll throw you from this tower to your death. Does that help you decide what to do?” She shook the vials and shoved them closer to Dev, then attempted a soothing voice that only grated on Dev’s nerves even more. “Come, now. You’ll feel so much better once it’s done.”

Dev reached up with his free hand and took the vials. But he needed his other hand to uncork them. Panicking, he slid Thisbe’s ancestor broth under his leg so the Revinir wouldn’t see it and uncorked the first vial. Thinking frantically, he realized he should have tried to make the switch when he’d taken them from her, not after he’d uncorked them. Now it was too late—it would be too obvious. His hands began to tremble.