Triumphant, Dev tied the supply sack around his hips. He released the hooks on the ceiling and retrieved the rope that hung from them, then unhooked Florence’s arrow and disassembled the ladder. As evening shadows fell over the palace, Dev carried his supplies carefully, staying along the edge of the floor, and made it to safety.

Fifer came flying up the steps holding a flopping fish. “Dev!” she cried. “Are you all right?”

Dev met her in the stairwell and gave her a quizzical look. “I’m fine,” he said, setting the boards and arrow down and holding out the bag of supplies. “Why?”

Fifer’s lips parted, and she nearly dropped the fish. “I… I heard you yell. I thought something terrible had happened… again. I’m glad you’re okay.” She went over to him and hesitated, then embraced him, the fish somehow getting caught up between them.

Surprised by the move, Dev stood stiffly for an instant, then slid the fish out from between them and hugged her gently in return. “Nothing terrible happened,” he said softly. He closed his eyes and let his cheek rest against her hair, steeling himself for when she pulled away.

Ghostly Fog

Rohan and Maiven hid in the folds of Quince’s foggy shape. The ghost dragon appeared the same as always to them because they had black eyes, but they knew he was activating his hiding feature, which made him look to others like a thick spray of fog drifting through the air. As long as Rohan and Maiven stayed flat on the cloudlike back of the dragon and Quince kept his hiding feature activated, only black-eyed people could detect that anyone was there at all.

They rounded the castle and discovered Drock sticking close to the back side of it, as if trying to get a look through the vast windows and balcony doors that lined the exterior of the guest-room wing. Quince floated over to Drock undetected. The dark purple dragon didn’t notice anything unusual until Rohan lifted his head.

“Drock,” Rohan whispered. “It’s Rohan. Maiven and Quince are here with me. Do you have any information? What’s happening?”

Drock seemed momentarily puzzled that he couldn’t see Quince at all but remembered what Maiven had told him in the cavelands and accepted the explanation. “That balcony, just there, leads to the ballroom, where the Revinir spends most of her time. Sometimes Thisbe goes out on the balcony with the Revinir. And I’ve finally figured out that Thisbe stays in this room over here. She has a private balcony too, but I haven’t seen her use it yet.”

Maiven sat up. She knew the castle well. “That was my dressing room long ago. Have you overheard anything?”

Drock glanced around to make sure none of the mind-controlled dragons were noticing him. “I have,” he said grimly. “They’ve been making plans.”

Rohan cringed. “What do you mean? What kind of plans?”