Thisbe’s heart sank. Was Rohan still out there? Didn’t he get that they had ended everything? A lump rose to her throat at the same time the truth came crashing around her. He was still here. Quince hadn’t come for him. She had to stay strong. She went to the doors, took a deep breath, and opened them.

Backlit by a pink morning sky, Rohan stood there, ragged, with tears streaming down his face. In one hand he held his rucksack.

“Rohan,” Thisbe whispered. “What are you still doing here?” His tears made her weak.

He caught her gaze and held it. “I figured it out.”

Thisbe swallowed hard. “You… What?”

“I figured out what you’re doing,” he said. “Seth thought that maybe… and then me drinking the broth…” He shook his head—it was too much to explain right now. “Never mind that.” His haggard face held a hint of warmth. “I have an idea.”

Coming Together

Thisbe dropped the send component she’d been holding. Rohan picked it up and handed it to her. She hesitated, then stepped aside to let him in. “Explain,” she said quietly, trying to sound cool and collected but failing miserably. She pocketed the component. “There’s nothing to figure out. I don’t… I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do.” Rohan came inside and closed the balcony door. Then he turned back to Thisbe and clasped his hands in front of him. “I get it now. I just can’t believe it.”

“Rohan, we’ve been over this.”

“No, no, no. Not this. Not you making a crazy decision out of nowhere to join ranks with a monster. Because I cannot believe you have that in you, no matter how much you insist otherwise. You can’t convince me that I don’t know you, because I do.” He ripped his hand through his hair, impassioned. “Look. I sat on this balcony freezing all night, and I finally figured out what you’re doing.”

“Well, what am I doing, then?” Thisbe demanded. He couldn’t possibly have guessed.

“You can’t tell anyone the truth,” Rohan said, watching her face closely, “because of exactly what just happened to me with the dragon-bone broth.”

Thisbe felt the blood drain from her face. She said nothing.

Rohan, encouraged by her silence, continued his theory. “You can’t tell me what you’re doing because I’m vulnerable. Just like any of us. If we are forced to drink that dragon-bone broth, we could give away the secret. And Fifer is in on it. Seth was right. Why doesn’t anyone listen to him?”

Thisbe held up her hands. “What secret?” she said weakly, feeling like she ought to keep the plan going if possible. Maybe Rohan was all wrong.

Rohan spoke in a soft voice. “You’re faking it. You’re pretending to join with the Revinir.”