They looked at him but didn’t move. Dev kept walking. His heart began to pound, and his scales rose on his arms and legs, snagging his new wool skirt. “Everybody just stay where you are,” he muttered under his breath. “Nothing is happening here.” He kept his head down, watching from the corner of his eye, first one dragon, then the other.

The front dragon made a noise and shook out its wings. It took a step toward him. Dev kept walking, picking up his pace slightly, acutely aware of where he was in relationship to safety at every moment. He reached the halfway point. If the dragon charged now, Dev was better off running for the tower than for the orchard and village.

He began the climb up the hill and two more red dragons at the far corners of the property came into view. Great. They turned toward him, and one rose up to get a better view, then rumbled and spat a spray of fire. Dev pretended he was a townsperson in Dragonsmarche going about his business and didn’t slow down. He reached the edge of the courtyard and headed between two of the small towers, aiming for the larger one in the center of the property. His tower. Who would he find inside? At this point, he didn’t care. If it was anyone other than the gray man, he’d make them leave.

None of the dragons took more than a few steps toward him. With his heartbeat pounding in his ears, Dev sprinted the last few steps to the middle tower doorway and darted inside. The foxes startled but then settled when they saw him. He said a few soothing words to comfort them and himself. And then he started up the stairwell as fast as he could climb.

Halfway up he heard a noise and whirled around. Had the dragons come after him? He peered anxiously out of the windows and saw they were still in their corners. With a sigh of relief he turned. And there, on the curve of the stairwell several steps above him, was a shocking sight.

“You’re alive,” said Fifer softly.

Dev sucked in a breath and stared at her. “Yes,” he whispered. And then, overcome by the sight of an ally, he gripped the handrail and doubled over, feeling pain and hope and fear crash together inside him. “Oh gods,” he whispered. “It’s you.” He suppressed a sob and covered his eyes, then looked again to make sure it was really Fifer. And that she was really wearing the head mage robe of Artimé. “You came.”

Fifer nodded, her expression cracking with emotion at the sight of his tears. She went down one more step uncertainly, then another. “Do you… want… help?”

Dev nodded, overcome. He climbed the step to her and slipped his arms around Fifer’s waist in a hug.