Dev realized these dragons were the Revinir’s mind-controlled red water dragons. So they weren’t here to assist Ashguard—he’d be an enemy of the Revinir for sure. Were they here to capture him? Were they waiting for him to leave so they could attack him?

If so, Dev had to do something. The gray man could possibly be the only kin Dev had, and after spending his whole life thinking he had none, he wasn’t about to let this person slip away.

He crept forward through the fog, keeping his eyes on the dragons. The one at the back corner turned his head sharply at Dev’s movement and glared, two fiery orange spots set inside the outline of the dragon’s spiny head. Dev froze, but the dragon didn’t come at him.

Dev felt faint. What was he doing? This was the most unwise choice he’d ever made. Well… maybe not, but it was pretty sketchy. He knew he could get his palace back later, after whatever was happening ended. But he’d never see it again if he kept inching forward and the dragons attacked him. Ashguard or no, Dev wasn’t about to risk his life again. He waited agonizing minutes for the dragon to look away, and then he pivoted on his haunches and started creeping back the way he’d come. Through the orchard. Back to the village.

He didn’t see the light go out, or the girl standing at the window peering out at him.

Uncomfortable Lies

Something is moving in the fog,” Fifer said, putting out her magical highlighter and squinting out of the library window. “Bigger than a fox.”

“What is it?” asked Thisbe, alarmed. She sat up on the sofa in the glorious library tower, which Fifer had discovered after she’d returned with water from the pump. She’d helped Thisbe climb the stairs. And though the trip had been agonizing, it was a relief to have some comfort and warmth and books around them. But there were also some unsettling features of this room. Like the old ripped and bloodstained shirt wadded up in the corner. And the half-eaten fish that was now beginning to stink up the room. It wasn’t very rotten, though—not weeks or even several days old. More like someone had been here recently and had left in a hurry.

“I can’t tell for sure,” said Fifer. “But it moves like a person. He’s creeping away from us.”

“Must be some vagabond looking for shelter who saw the dragons and decided it wasn’t worth it,” said Thisbe. “Maybe he was trying to come back for his fish.” She wrinkled her nose. “Do we dare eat it?”