“What’s all the noise?” she mumbled.
“Yeah, really,” Kinkajou said, flaring the ruff behind her ears. “Is someone on fire? Why are you smashing around waking up perfectly happy sleeping dragons? YEEP!” she cried as Moon and Qibli came thudding down behind Winter, trailing broken branches, with leaves and twigs caught in their wings and tails.
“You!” Winter leaped over the fire and bowled Pyrite to the ground. She screamed, flapped her wings at him, and tried to wriggle away, but he leaned all his weight on her back and pinned her down with his deadly IceWing claws. Even though she was bigger than him, she stopped resisting quickly. Her talons twitched in the grass and she twisted her neck to look back at him.
“This is mean,” she protested.
“What do you know about my brother?” he demanded.
“Nothing at all,” she said. “Now can I get up?”
“You know something,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “He’s an IceWing named Hailstorm. A couple of years older than me. The bravest dragon in Pyrrhia. Scarlet’s prisoner for the last two years.” He shook her roughly. “You know where he is!”
“All right, all right!” she whined. “But you don’t have to attack me; I would have told you if you just asked! Queen Scarlet’s prisoners are kept in an arena in the Sky Palace. I can draw you a map of the place if you want. I don’t think there are any IceWings there anymore, though. And Ruby traded back almost all the prisoners of war.”
Frustration surged through Winter and he dug his claws in just a little, making Pyrite wince. Across the fire, Kinkajou was watching them with wide, bewildered eyes.
“Don’t toy with me, SkyWing,” Winter hissed. “Scarlet needs you in order to kill Hailstorm. So why is that? Where is he? Did you use your magic on him?”
“What magic?” Pyrite protested. “I don’t have any magic! I never did anything special for Queen Scarlet!”
“Winter, I think she’s telling the truth,” Moon said. She had her front talons pressed to her head and an expression of pain scrawled across her face. “She has no idea what you’re talking about.”
“What she said!” Pyrite yelped. “No idea!”
“She’s blocking you somehow,” Winter said furiously. “She is magic, I can feel it.” With the SkyWing pinioned below him, the muscle-wringing sensation of powerful animus magic was beating through him stronger than ever. He glared down at the dragon and spotted the necklace tangled around her neck. “Maybe with her necklace — maybe she enchanted it to hide her mind from you.” He reached for the chain.
“Don’t touch that!” roared Pyrite, surging to her feet and throwing him off with sudden powerful violence.
Winter was flung straight into the fire. The burning embers sizzled against his scales and back talons, and he leaped away with a howl of pain.
It took a moment for his head to clear, but when it did he saw two shapes grappling through the smoke of the scattered fire. Qibli’s tail was poised like a scorpion’s as he wrestled Pyrite. Her arms were longer than his and her claws slashed at his underbelly while her wings beat him away from her. The SkyWing’s teeth were bared and her face was a grimace of fury and determination.
Winter’s burns were sending fiery bolts of pain along all the nerves in his body, but he staggered forward to help Qibli.
And then Kinkajou shrieked, and a black dragon was suddenly there, appearing from the shadows. He pounced on Kinkajou, striking her three times with swift brutality and then slamming her out of the way with a powerful blow from his tail. The little RainWing was thrown into a tree trunk with a sickening crack. She crumpled to the ground, her scales fading to white.
“Kinkajou!” Moon cried. The black dragon turned on her and she roared a jet of blazing fire straight at his face. He reared back, covering his eyes, and she leaped at him, slashing furiously at his wings and neck. A bright gash of red appeared along his throat and he roared, seizing Moon’s talons. Blisters were starting to bubble along the edges of his mouth and nose and he kept shaking his head as though it was hard to see, but he was strong and huge, and he flung Moon to the ground with ease.
Winter didn’t remember choosing, although there must have been a moment when his head said, “Go after Pyrite; she’s the key to finding Hailstorm,” while his heart shouted, “No, help Moon!” But as far as he could tell, there was no conscious thought involved. He was just there, barreling into the NightWing before the monster could stamp his sharp talons down on Moon’s neck.
The two of them rolled across the clearing, black and white scales clashing, both of them roaring at full blast. Winter felt metal tangle and clatter around his claws; the NightWing was wearing a mess of dark jewelry and things that felt like compact iron boxes on chains as they smacked into Winter’s jaws and knuckles.
He ducked his head as the NightWing shot a burst of flames past his ear. The ice was rising in his throat. He twisted to bring his mouth up to the NightWing’s face and hissed frostbreath straight into the dragon’s eyes.
The NightWing slammed his eyes shut at the last second, but ice immediately began spreading across his snout, sealing his eyelids in place and melting into the burns Moon had given him.
The black dragon’s bellow of agony was like nothing Winter had ever heard before. He threw Winter off him and bolted into the sky. For a moment Winter could see him, weaving and dipping from side to side as he tried to fly without sight. And then the NightWing’s black scales vanished into the dark and the heavy storm clouds.
At some point it had started to rain, scattered fat droplets that plopped into the dying fire with dragonlike hisses. The raindrops were soothing on Winter’s burns as he dragged himself back to Moon.
She was crouched beside Kinkajou, shaking the little RainWing gently.
“Please be all right,” Moon whispered. “Kinkajou. Please wake up.” Her voice snagged into a sob. “I can’t hear her. I can’t hear anything from her mind at all.”
“She’s just unconscious,” Winter said, but he wasn’t sure. The dragonet looked as if she’d been dropped from a great height, crumpled and still.
“He went for her first,” Moon said. “Did you see that? He could have attacked any of us, but he started with Kinkajou on purpose. Why would anyone do that? Why target a tiny RainWing, the smallest of us?” She straightened one of Kinkajou’s crooked wings and smoothed it back into place.
“Maybe he was worried about her venom,” Winter said. “Scarlet has probably talked about RainWing venom quite a lot, given her experience.”
Moon lifted and dropped her wings with a doubtful expression. Her eyes never left Kinkajou’s pale face.
Winter turned and saw, finally, what should have been his first thought: Qibli had subdued Pyrite and was standing over her on the other side of the clearing, his venomous tail suspended over the midpoint of her spine.
Winter limped over and looked down at the traitorous SkyWing.
“That NightWing could come back with Scarlet any minute,” Qibli warned him. “We should get out of here as fast as we can.”
Winter nodded. He reached for Pyrite’s necklace.
“No,” Pyrite said with a hysterical edge to her voice. “Please. I’m not supposed to take it off ever. It’s life or death. I need to wear it. Please leave it alone. Don’t take it. Don’t —”
He ripped it off her neck, yanking three times before the chain finally snapped.
The SkyWing let out a cry of despair. Winter felt the pouch crinkle between his claws; whatever was inside was very light and crunched like a talonful of snow.
He was about to open the pouch when Pyrite’s scales began to slide off.
At least, that was Winter’s first impression. It looked almost as though she was melting and growing and snapping into place at the same time. Her snout narrowed and lengthened. The orange color bled swiftly out of each scale. Sharp spikes shoved up through the skin all along her back and at the tip of her tail.
Qibli leaped off her with a s
hout of surprise.
It was over in a matter of seconds.
The dragon who was no longer Pyrite arched his back, unfolded his long white wings, and opened eyes as blue as the arctic sky. He coughed and stared around him in utter bewilderment. His gaze landed on Winter and Qibli.
“Winter?” he said in a shaky, hoarse voice.
Winter stared up at him, his talons rooted to the earth, his wings prickling with fear. He was too shocked to speak.
“Holy snakes,” said Qibli. “Is that — are you —?”
Pyrite was gone. Standing in her place … was Hailstorm.
“Hailstorm?” Winter whispered. “But how? You were just — you were a SkyWing. I saw you. How did you —?”
“What happened to the throne room?” Hailstorm asked, his voice getting stronger. “And what have you been eating to get so big?” He stopped, swaying in place and rubbing his eyes. “Wait, I have to find the queen … why are my scales the wrong color?” He held out his talons and then recoiled from them with an expression of terror. “What have you done to me? Why am I so cold?”
He seized Winter’s front claws in a grip that sent shock waves of desperation along Winter’s arms. “Who am I?” Hailstorm demanded.
“You’re my brother,” Winter said. That was clear. That was true. They could deal with spells and lingering side effects later. He leaned into Hailstorm’s grasp, locking their eyes together. “And we have to get you out of here before Scarlet finds you.”
“Queen Scarlet,” Hailstorm corrected automatically. “She wouldn’t hurt me. I am completely loy —” His face twisted, horror warring with despair and confusion. “What am I saying? Winter, what am I saying?”
“We’ll fix it, but right now we have to fly,” Winter said. Qibli darted across the clearing and said something to Moon. She immediately slid her talons under Kinkajou and tried to hoist the RainWing onto Qibli’s back, struggling as Kinkajou’s tail flopped sideways and overbalanced her. The unconscious dragon’s wings whapped Moon in the face and her head lolled awkwardly on her long neck.
Winter took a step toward them, but Hailstorm wouldn’t let go of him.
“Are you real?” the tall IceWing asked. “Is any of this real?”
“Hailstorm, snap into it,” Winter barked. “We need to help my friends and get out of here.”
“Friends?” Hailstorm echoed. He squinted over at the tangle of dragons on the edge of the dying firelight. “But Winter, I think there’s a NightWing over there.”
Winter’s guilt came slamming back through him, along with a second wave of guilt that came from remembering how much Moon had done to help him.
“She’s on our side. She’s helping me rescue you. Hailstorm, move.” He finally got his claws free and ran over to the others.
He reached Moon’s side in time to catch Kinkajou as she slid sideways off the SandWing. Qibli had his teeth gritted and his eyes closed, his legs bowed under her weight.
Kinkajou was small, but not that much smaller than Qibli, who was wiry and narrow-shouldered. Winter couldn’t imagine how the SandWing could even take off with her on top of him, let alone keep up a breakneck escape pace. And Winter couldn’t do it either; he was broader than Qibli, but not any bigger.
But what’s the alternative? Leave her here?
He was astonished to find that he couldn’t even consider that possibility. He wouldn’t abandon her, not even to save Hailstorm. He could feel his brother watching him, the needles of centuries of IceWing judgment pricking along his spine.
“We need someone as big as Clay,” Moon said ruefully, resting Kinkajou’s head in the crook of her shoulder and wing.
Hailstorm might be big enough, but he’s too confused. And he has no love for RainWings, either as Pyrite or as himself. I don’t know what he might do with her midflight.
If only Qibli and I could carry her together …
Winter darted over to the trees, leaped up, and wrenched the canopy loose from the trunk it was bound to. The weave of branches and vines was thick enough to keep out rain; if they were lucky, it would be strong enough to hold Kinkajou.
He spread it out beside Moon, who understood without words what he was doing. Awkwardly they shifted Kinkajou onto the makeshift stretcher, curling her tail close around her body and tucking in her wings. There was no sign of life from her as they did this, although Winter thought he could feel a pulse in the palm of her talons.
The pouch was still crushed in his claws. He needed to look at it more closely, but not right now. And he wasn’t about to risk wearing it, after seeing what it did to Hailstorm. Carefully he tucked it beside Kinkajou, snagging the chain securely around several branches.
Qibli took one side of the canopy in his front talons. Winter reached for the other, but Moon interceded.
“I’ll do it,” she said. “You take care of your brother.”
She hooked her claws in the web of branches and nodded at Qibli. Beating their wings together, they lifted up into the air, wobbling and lopsided for a moment. Winter jumped to catch Kinkajou in case they dropped her, but they righted themselves and flew higher, their wings finding the same rhythm. They shot up into the clouds as the rain began cascading down harder and harder.
Winter ran back over to Hailstorm. “Fly!” he shouted. “Follow me!”
“Maybe I should wait here for Queen Scarlet,” Hailstorm said uncertainly. “She could probably explain what’s happening to my head.”
“No!” Winter shouted. He shook his wings furiously, which did not help dry him off at all. “She is the enemy! Come on!” He couldn’t believe Scarlet wasn’t here already. How long could it take the NightWing to fly back to get her? Even with his face burned and frostbitten? Maybe he’d gotten lost, unable to see … but Scarlet still should have heard the noise of the battle. She could be flying down to investigate right now.
He launched himself into the air, and to his relief, Hailstorm only hesitated a moment before following.
The rain smashed down on them, harder and harder. Winter wished it were snow instead — he tried imagining the drops as light, fluffy flakes of comforting snow, but it didn’t help. Lightning flashed overhead and he caught a glimpse of the odd flapping shape that was Qibli and Moon and the sagging canopy. They were flying west, hopefully out of the mountains and toward the Kingdom of Sand.
And beyond that, the Ice Kingdom, Winter thought. He glanced sideways at Hailstorm, now keeping up with long, powerful strokes of his wings. I did it. I found him. I can take him home.
He looked forward again, at the dragons winging their way over the mountain range, and felt a strange stabbing feeling in his chest.
Home.
Where none of my friends can go.
Where I must be — I mean, where I can be a true IceWing once again.
* * *
They flew without stopping for the rest of the night. Winter and Hailstorm soon caught up to the others and then slowed to match their speed — although Hailstorm gave Winter a puzzled look as he did. After a while, Winter moved in to take the canopy from Moon and she let him; a short time after that, she took it from Qibli, and the three of them traded off turns silently for hours, saving their breath for flying.
Hailstorm did not offer to help, but he stayed with them, to Winter’s relief.
Finally they flew out of the edge of the storm, straight into a cool gray morning somewhere in the borderlands between the Sky Kingdom and the Kingdom of Sand. The mountains were behind them, and the sun had not yet climbed high enough to make it past the peaks, but everything was lit in that barely dawn, colorless way that makes your eyes tired. A small herd of springboks turned graceful, antlered heads to the sky, spotted the dragons, and bounded instantly away, their white tails flickering as they fled south.
“We can rest at the river,” Qibli called. “Almost there.”
Winter hefted his side of the sling, trying to adjust his aching talons. The entire front half of his body felt numb, as though he had
turned to stone and someone had decided to hang a RainWing off his petrified arms. His head was fuzzy with exhaustion.
Soon he saw the Great Five-Tail River ahead of them, a vast green-brown-blue vein stretching from the desert to the delta. According to the history scrolls, this was the most disputed piece of territory in all of Pyrrhia, as the SkyWings and SandWings had fought over ownership of the river for centuries. Winter wondered if Burn had promised it to the SkyWings in exchange for their alliance in the War of SandWing Succession. He wondered if it was only a matter of time before Queen Ruby and Queen Thorn resumed the battle that had raged for so long.
But for now, the banks of the river were peaceful. Near the delta, the SandWing settlement on the west side had slowly merged with the SkyWing village on the east over the last twenty years, so that now, red and orange and sandy-yellow wings dotted the sky and the streets side by side. A wide white stone bridge had been built across the river, lined with shops where dragons traded and bartered all day.
Winter knew this from reports he’d heard in the throne room. IceWing reconnaissance had kept a close eye on the tentative peace that was forged between Burn and Scarlet. Would it last beyond the war? Where would that leave the IceWings … the next border where the SandWings might look for new territory?
But he had only ever flown over the Great River; he’d only seen the growing town from a distance. Now, seeing it take shape ahead of them, he realized that was Qibli’s destination. Winter had expected to stop in a clump of trees somewhere, but the SandWing was clearly leading them to the town itself.
“Wait,” he said, and Qibli immediately circled back to take Kinkajou’s stretcher from him. Winter shook out his talons, feeling the blood slowly tingling back into motion. “Where are you taking us? Shouldn’t we hide somewhere?” He gestured at the wild landscape below them: the sand dotted with palm trees that stretched away south, the muddier banks farther north, the thicker greenery near the town and the delta. There was something about bringing Hailstorm into a crowded settlement that made him nervous.
“Possibility is the best place to hide,” Qibli argued. “There are hundreds of dragons there, from all the tribes these days. We’ll blend right in — and Scarlet won’t dare show her face in the town, with so many of Ruby’s dragons patrolling the streets. Besides, Kinkajou needs a doctor.”