“Prince Arctic?” Winter said.
“I didn’t steal him.” Foeslayer lifted one wing so she could meet Winter’s eyes. “I fell in love with him.”
An entire history of a tribe, the story of a war, the foundation of an ancient hatred — it all shivered in Winter’s mind like stepping onto the thinnest layer of ice.
“And he loved me, too,” Foeslayer said. “That’s the truth, although no IceWing has ever listened long enough to hear it before.”
Everything was splintering apart.
“We didn’t mean to ruin everything,” she said. “Or start a terrible war, or make two tribes hate each other for all eternity. We just wanted to be together.”
He believed her. He wouldn’t have a month ago, but now he believed her because he knew exactly how that felt. Because he could imagine throwing everything away, too, for the chance to be with Moon.
If they dared to start something … could he and Moon end as badly as Foeslayer and Arctic?
Would he risk it, even after seeing where it might lead?
It’s different, he told himself. Queen Diamond cared very much what happened to Prince Arctic. No one cares at all what happens to me.
“So now you know,” Foeslayer said, rolling the spear over to him. “Ready to kill me?”
He shook his head. “I’m getting you out of here.”
The NightWing’s eyes gleamed, dark and glittering in the light from his moon globe. “That’s impossible, I’m afraid,” she said. “Every time I’ve tried to cross the chasm, some kind of invisible wall drives me back. I assume the enchantment was crafted to keep me here forever.”
“Maybe,” Winter said. “But IceWings are careful planners, especially when it comes to animus gifts. I’m sure Diamond left a way to free you, in case they needed you to negotiate with the NightWings.” He stepped back, studying her from wings to tail. “It must be your shackles — that’s what’s been animus-touched, right?”
She lifted one back foot and then the other. “Well, they’re impervious to fire,” she said. “And nothing happens when I smash them against the walls, except it makes my ankles really hurt. So I’m guessing they’re enchanted, yes.”
“Whatever will break them,” Winter said, “I bet can only be done by a member of the royal family. If I know IceWings anyway. But you’re in luck, because that’s what I am.” He tried not to think about his name on the rankings wall — his name glittering at the top, and then Tundra’s claws scratching through it, marking him as dead.
He picked up one of the spears and pointed it at the shackles. “Hold still.”
“Oh dear,” Foeslayer said, closing her eyes.
With a swift jabbing motion, Winter struck the closest shackle with the tip of the spear.
It bounced off, reverberating in his claws. The shackle looked untouched.
Winter set the spear down again and crouched to examine the shackles. There was a small diamond shape indented on the side of each one. Carefully he poked the diamond with one claw, but that didn’t do anything either.
One more possibility. Something only an IceWing could do, which made it safe because no IceWing would ever, ever free a NightWing.
He reached inside him for the lurking snowstorm and then breathed out, covering the diamond with frostbreath.
The shackle sprang apart, clattered to the floor, and shattered into tiny pieces.
Foeslayer sat up, staring at the other shackle with hope and disbelief warring in her eyes.
“Wait,” Winter said. He touched the other shackle. “I should — I have to make sure of one thing. If I free you, you have to promise you won’t go hurt any IceWings. I don’t want a whole new cycle of vengeance and war to start. Do you understand? It ends here.”
“I never want to see an IceWing ever again in my whole life,” Foeslayer said fervently. “Set me free, and I’ll go straight home to the Night Kingdom, and you’ll never see me again.”
The Night Kingdom.
The lost city of night — Foeslayer knew exactly where it was. She could help them stop the prophecy.
“Actually,” Winter said, “I want to come with you.”
This was his future now. Not prince among IceWings, not Queen Glacier’s nephew, not a warrior struggling his way up the rankings under the disapproving gaze of his parents.
He was a dragon who had friends from other tribes. And he was going to save Jade Mountain with them.
He leaned forward to breathe frostbreath on the last shackle.
Moon, Qibli, Kinkajou … I’m coming. Wait for me. I’ll be there soon.
Alone and buried in rock, Darkstalker waited, and listened.
Twenty-six dragonets remained of the thirty-five who had started at Jade Mountain Academy. And their minds were full of secrets.
In the art cave, a NightWing wondered where Moonwatcher and the rest of the Jade Winglet had gone. He dipped his brush in paint and worried about the secret letter he had just received from old friends. Is it true? Have they escaped Thorn’s prison? Are they really coming back soon with an army?
And, does Mother know?
And, will she join them? Which side of the coup would she be on?
And would I want her to … or are things maybe better the way they are, even with a RainWing for our queen?
He didn’t know. He’d have to make a choice, probably sooner than he wanted to, and he had no idea what the right decision would be.
Darkstalker knew. He knew which option would lead this dragonet to a long, safe life, and which would end in death within the year. He also knew which choice would be better for his own plans. But which path the dragonet would take … that was still uncertain.
Outside, on the sandy bank of a mountain stream, the mind-shrouded SandWing took off her necklace, hid it carefully under a rock, and waded into the frigid water. Darkstalker narrowed in on her, knowing this was a rare few minutes of exposure.
Cold, cold, cold, she was cursing as she splashed. Stupid, stupid, stupid three MOONS why is it so cold I’ve got to get back to the desert —
Abruptly, out loud, she said, “Are you listening? You’d better be.”
For a moment, Darkstalker was startled into thinking she meant him, but then she went on.
“This plan is inane. I haven’t learned anything new here and I can barely get near the daughter, especially after all the aggravation with caves exploding and other inconvenient nuisances. I thought I had an idea, but then he up and vanished from the school. You have no idea how frustrating it is. It’s like four hundred other stories are going on around me and nobody has noticed that I’m the one who’s going to shape the future of Pyrrhia.”
She brooded for a moment, thinking jumbled thoughts about castles and crowns and power. Finally she said, “There’s one more possible option if I stay a bit longer. A dragonet, as loyal to that Thorn character as anyone, and I think she’s connected to one of Thorn’s generals. She might be my in. I’ll give it a try, but if it gets too annoying, I’m coming back to the Scorpion Den.”
Onyx climbed out of the stream and shook her wings furiously. “Send me a message the usual way,” she snapped.
I will be queen within the month, whether that old dragon helps me or whether I have to kill him and do it myself.
She dropped the necklace over her head, and all Darkstalker could hear was fuzz.
Interesting.
Who was she talking to, and how?
He wished he could tell Moonwatcher. He wished he could tell anyone, but with her gone, he had no one left who could hear him.
Come back soon, little Moonwatcher. Bring me my talisman, and come back soon.
Deep in the underground lake, another dragonet was swimming, although the temperature of the water didn’t bother her.
Fathom’s great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter dove to the bottom and then shot up out of the lake, soaring to the ceiling and spiraling back down with a splash.
“Very
impressive, Princess!” called the SeaWing named Pike, paddling in a small circle nearby. “Such speed! And grace!”
The SeaWing with the skyfire bracelet snorted from the top of a rock. “Anybody can do that,” he said.
“Not when you’re tied to your mother,” his sister said, squirting water at him with her talons. I’ve never flown as fast as I wanted or soared as high as I could go. Now I can do anything, anything I want. “Stop being such a mope, Turtle. So what if your entire winglet is gone? You’ve still got us.” She thwacked her tail into the water, sending a wave over the other three SeaWings in the lake with her.
Unless Mother comes and tries to take me home. But I won’t let her. I won’t. I might be the most powerful dragon in the world, and if she didn’t learn that from what I did to Whirlpool, I can teach her some other way.
The spell on Auklet’s harness should keep her away from me, though.
If it doesn’t, I’ll come up with something stronger.
“Tag! You’re it!” Barracuda called, tapping Anemone’s tail and racing away.
The rest of the SeaWing princess’s thoughts scattered into laughter and the game.
Darkstalker studied her possible futures thoughtfully, then tucked them away and moved on.
There. Now this was the most interesting mind in the school.
This poor dragon, pacing in an empty cave, afraid of her own scales.
Her mind was a blazing mess of flames, hot and fierce and self-destructive. Her dreams were haunted by a hissing queen with a melted face. Her heart was given, entirely and forever, to the only dragon she couldn’t hurt.
Was she “the talons of power and fire”?
Darkstalker wasn’t sure. The paths ahead of her were all confusion, like trying to follow a map into a forest fire. But on the other side, something flickered through the smoke. Something like hope.
Something shaped like a scroll.
He didn’t have to see exactly what would happen. He was already sure of one thing.
This dragon could change everything.
Dear Vermilion,
Greetings from the Kingdom of Sand to the Sky Kingdom. My sister tells me that you might get a pet scavenger like mine. It’s a splendid idea — they are highly entertaining — but I must warn you, scavengers are not easy pets to keep. Mine is probably the only one to have survived longer than five years. So might I offer some advice?
Rule #1: Protect Your Scavenger. Someone will definitely try to eat her, whether “by accident” or not. I recommend you clearly label your pet with some kind of collar or bell. If you make the collar sparkly, the scavenger will probably love it; they adore shiny things.
Keep in mind that scavengers have no natural weapons: no claws, no wings, no scales, no fire, and absolutely useless teeth. Also, they are shockingly squishy, so do not squeeze them (even lovingly) or shake them (even if they are very wicked) or poke them too hard.
They also love making things with their little paws, so Rule #2 is: Protect Your Belongings. If you have anything made of cloth — say, a favorite blanket, or new curtains, for instance — keep it far out of your scavenger’s reach. Otherwise it will end up with holes in it, and those scraps of cloth will be transformed into mysterious scavenger coverings. They must get rather cold, as all the scavengers I’ve ever seen come wrapped in fabric at all times.
As for the care and feeding of your scavenger, they eat a lot more than you’d expect, for their tiny size, and they prefer meat only after it’s been set on fire. I offered Flower a live desert mouse once, and later discovered she’d kept it as a pet. They also require a daily supply of fresh water and get very floppy or very loud if you forget to provide it.
Remember, scavengers are endangered and can be hard to acquire, as the few that are left are increasingly skilled at hiding from dragons. I’ve heard that some are impossible to tame, too, and of course there are those stories about pet scavengers trying to stab their owners in the middle of the night. But Flower has always been a loyal, amusing pet and I’m terribly fond of her, so I say don’t worry about all the rumors. Worst-case scenario, if your scavenger is wildly annoying, you can always eat him.
Best of luck, and do send me a picture of your scavenger whenever you get it. My scavenger drew this picture of us herself — isn’t she clever? I like the fierce look on her little face here. Rather a good likeness of me, too, I must say.
Wishing you bright sun and strong winds,
Smolder
TUI T. SUTHERLAND is the author of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling Wings of Fire series, the Menagerie trilogy, and the Pet Trouble series, as well as a contributing author to the bestselling Spirit Animals and Seekers series (as part of the Erin Hunter team). In 2009, she was a two-day champion on Jeopardy! She lives in Massachusetts with her wonderful husband, two adorable sons, and one very patient dog. To learn more about Tui’s books, visit her online at www.tuibooks.com.
Text copyright © 2015 by Tui T. Sutherland
Map and border design © 2015 by Mike Schley
Dragon illustrations © 2015 by Joy Ang
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Sutherland, Tui, 1978– author.
Winter turning / by Tui T. Sutherland.
pages cm. — (Wings of fire ; book 7)
Summary: Winter has been a disappointment to his royal IceWing family, unlike his sister Icicle, who has been raised to challenge the IceWing queen — but now that Icicle has broken the truce and escaped from Jade Mountain Academy, Winter, accompanied by his new clawmates, Moon, Qibli, and Kinkajou, embarks on his own quest to free his brother from the clutches of Queen Scarlet, and win the respect of his family.
ISBN 978-0-545-68537-5
1. Dragons — Juvenile fiction. 2. Prophecies — Juvenile fiction. 3. Quests (Expeditions) — Juvenile fiction. 4. Friendship — Juvenile fiction. 5. Brothers — Juvenile fiction. 6. Adventure stories. [1. Dragons — Fiction. 2. Prophecies — Fiction. 3. Friendship — Fiction. 4. Brothers — Fiction. 5. Adventure and adventurers — Fiction. 6. Fantasy.] I. Title. II. Series: Sutherland, Tui, 1978– Wings of fire ; bk. 7.
PZ7.S96694Wi 2015
813.6 — dc23
[Fic]
2015007970
First printing, July 2015
Cover art © 2015 by Joy Ang
Cover design by Phil Falco
e-ISBN 978-0-545-68538-2
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
Tui T. Sutherland, Winter Turning
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