He closed his eyes and let his head loll back. The wind sliced through his dark brown hair and whistled around his ears. Heat from the dragon’s throat made his skin burn. His legs, back, and chest ached where the dragon’s teeth had pierced him, and blood soaked into his clothing. The thought crossed his mind that he might bleed to death before the dragon decided to eat him. Maybe that wasn’t all bad. It seemed like a less violent way to die.

After a while, Dev lost consciousness.

The dragon flew on.

Across the Sea

There were moments when Thisbe Stowe felt like she was on holiday: training with swords on the back of a pillowy ghost dragon who was flying leisurely through the night over a beautiful green sea. She loved the zing and clash of the metal and the way the muscles in her back and shoulders were on fire for being alive. She respected the instinctive connection between her brain and her hands that took over when she was sparring with the other black-eyed children. She had a knack for traditional combat—even Kaylee Jones had said so once. Navigating the cushiony surface of the dragon and keeping balance while speeding along made the workout even tougher and more satisfying.

But the joy of it all couldn’t take Thisbe’s mind off the many problems at hand. She was plagued by the guilt of leaving Dev behind—unrelenting questions about his status pounded between her ears and twisted her insides. It was wrenching not knowing where he was or how much danger he was in. Sure, he was clever and scrappy and had managed to survive a lot of terrible situations. But was he fierce enough to keep himself alive in the presence of the Revinir, who was growing more powerful by the day? And had he realized yet that Thisbe and the others had abandoned him? How would that make him feel? The knot of guilt and worry tightened in her stomach.

Thisbe also feared for the state of Artimé—Florence had told her in the new send spell that their beloved magical land, once safe and carefree and filled with loving people, was somehow in the midst of a civil war. A civil war! It seemed so unfathomable that it was hard for Thisbe to picture it, even though she’d witnessed some of Frieda Stubbs’s shenanigans. How had things escalated so quickly and violently?

Added to that, and looming large at the top of everyone’s list of worries, was the threat of the Revinir being able to find them anywhere they went. How long before the dragon-woman would have full control of the land of the dragons? And when would she come looking for them? No one knew where she would strike next. And few knew how far the land stretched beyond Grimere and the palace where Ashguard the curmudgeon was rumored to have lived. Thisbe made a mental note to ask Maiven about it later.