“To see if the Revinir is following,” Thisbe reminded him gently.

“Right. No, there’s no one behind us. No one following.”

“Thank you,” said Thisbe, then turned to Maiven. “We’ll fight, won’t we?” she asked the queen.

“We most definitely will,” said the stately woman, her back rigid and chin lifted defiantly. “So we should be prepared for anything. If you’re ready, let’s run this again.”

Maiven Taveer, who once reigned as the military commander and queen of Grimere—and still did, according to this group—was also the Stowe children’s maternal grandmother. In the time after her lengthy captivity, she’d returned to her family’s abandoned home outside Dragonsmarche, where she’d stashed many of her important belongings back when things had started looking dangerous for her in Grimere. She’d discovered them unharmed under layers of dust.

Now she was dressed in her old commander uniform: a charcoal-colored military jacket and pants with tall black boots. A bandolier hung from each of her shoulders crosswise, making an X over her body, front and back. The bandoliers held nearly a dozen weapons. Perched on her head was a purple felt cap with a small visor, and in one hand she carried a swagger stick to help her keep balance when the dragon ride got rough. Maiven looked smart and tough as she tirelessly trained the future rulers. There was little resemblance left to the feeble old woman Thisbe had known in the dungeon. Once freed, Maiven had quickly regained her strength. Only her wise words, soothing voice, and white hair in a thick plait down her back reminded Thisbe that this was the same person she’d met in that dark cell.

Thisbe smoothed down the scales on her arms and studied the others, who wore expressions of fear and fatigue. “Perhaps we should take a break first,” she said, and sheathed her sword. “And try to sleep. All right, Maiven?”

“Of course, my dear.”

Thisbe was the best swordsperson of all the former slaves, having had years of training in Artimé. First she’d studied stage combat with Samheed Burkesh, the theater instructor, and then she’d taken general sword fighting classes and trained privately with Florence. Rohan was slightly better than the others as he’d had more time to get used to carrying the weapon after escaping the catacombs with Thisbe. But he was still no match for her.

As Gorgrun continued flying, Thisbe sat down for a chance to catch her breath. She looked out in front of them to try to gauge their location, but it was difficult in the dark. She’d made this journey several times by now and knew that the Island of Fire would be the first island they’d come to, halfway into the trip. But the ghost dragons weren’t very fast fliers, so it would be a while.

As the group rested, Thisbe mentioned the islands they’d be passing and told the others about the volcano transportation system. She explained how the one in the crater lake west of Grimere worked in conjunction with this one. Then she and Rohan laid out their theory about the meteors that had hit the land, causing multiple problems for the people of Grimere decades before and creating the crater lake. Maiven knew all about the meteors, but she had been surprised to learn of the unusual undersea workings of the volcano. She knew nothing of the Revinir’s initial journey through the volcanos years ago, when she was known as Queen Eagala. No one else seemed to know much about it either. The sneaky dragon-woman had managed to keep that a secret.