Thisbe didn’t know what to do except stay in character. “Get him!” she cried. “The little sneak!”

The Revinir lunged over the railing and took flight. Before Quince could change course, she reached and grabbed Rohan by his shoulders and his rucksack.

“Augh!” Rohan cried. He squirmed and whispered, “Don’t wait for me!” to Quince and Maiven over his shoulder. The Revinir yanked the young man over the balcony railing and into the ballroom. She dropped him to his feet and shoved him to the floor, spitting bits of fire everywhere in her anger.

Thisbe’s heart split into a thousand pieces. Why did he have to do this? But she kept her face from showing any emotion. She steeled herself, then followed the Revinir and Rohan into the ballroom. Then she stared down at the person who completed her soul in every way.

He saw her. “Thisbe,” he pleaded, shielding himself from the sparks and trying to crawl over to her. “What are you doing?”

Thisbe didn’t answer. She averted her gaze, looking instead at the Revinir, who seemed to be watching Thisbe very carefully to see what she would do. “Amateur,” she said lightly to the dragon-woman, and laughed. “He’s harmless enough, isn’t he? More good than evil, you always said. What shall we do with him? Kick him out of here? I can’t imagine he’ll come back. Will you, Rohan?”

“I highly doubt it,” Rohan muttered.

The Revinir’s concern melted from her face, and she laughed too. “We should at least offer him some tea before we decide. And,” she added in a darker voice, “find out what he knows about the locations and activities of the others. Keep an eye on him.”

The Revinir called for hot water and went to the sideboard. She rummaged around in a cupboard, setting up tea for three.

Thisbe was hardly able to function. She stood frozen. She couldn’t look at Rohan.

He could have made a run for it. But Rohan stayed on the floor. “Thisbe,” he whispered.

Thisbe’s bones melted. But somehow she remained strong.

“Thisbe,” he whispered again. “You’re breaking my heart, pria.”

Thisbe felt a moan about to burst from her chest. But she stopped it with the fire in her throat. “Don’t speak to me,” she snapped, a bit harsher than she’d intended. But she had to show the Revinir that she was annoyed by his presence.

Rohan’s mouth slacked. He could only stare.

The Revinir brought the tray of tea to the table and commanded Thisbe and Rohan to join her. The two did as they were told.

“Sugar for your tea?” the Revinir asked, poised, then dropped a cube in each cup without waiting for the answer and stirred them. She passed the cups out, then lifted hers to her lips and sipped. “Tell us where you’ve been, Rohan. What do you know?”