Page 13 of The Lost Continent


  “Who said you could eat?” said one of the voices, deep and sharp and female.

  “I didn’t eat all day yesterday!” another voice answered, whiny and male. “You know. She never lets us, while she’s in control. So I figure, as long as we’re out here and in charge of our own skulls for once, we can hunt breakfast and runaway SilkWings at the same time.”

  The other HiveWing growled, but there was a noise of ripping meat, as though she’d taken a chunk of the prey for herself.

  “This is a waste of time,” she muttered, chewing. “Who cares about one stupid dragonet who might or might not have fire in his silk? He probably got eaten by a pack of lions or fell down a hole and died already.”

  “A hole like this one?” The voices drew nearer and Blue felt Cricket’s wings trembling. “Should we check down there?”

  “Ugh,” said the first dragon. “My patrol went down there yesterday. It’s dark and wet and haunted. I think we can skip it.”

  “HELLO!” the second dragon shouted down the chasm, making Blue jump. “HELLOOOOOOO, ANNOYING WINGLESS DRAAAAAAGON. ARE YOU DEAD AT THE BOTTOM OF THESE ROCKS? OR ALMOST DEAD? COULD YOU CROAK ‘YEAH, I’M HERE, TOTALLY DEAD, CARRY ON’ SO WE CAN ALL GO HOME AND SAY WE FOUND YOU?”

  His companion actually laughed, which was the most surprising part of the conversation so far from Blue’s point of view.

  “Come on, finish your intestines so we can get going,” she said. “There are some scrub thickets over by Tsetse Hive that I think are worth checking out.”

  It felt like a long time and a lot of chewing noises later when they finally flew away. Blue let out a breath and wondered how long he’d been holding it. His limbs were aching and heavy from the long night of climbing. And now that the danger had passed, he felt his eyelids drooping. It seemed safe enough to sleep. If anyone found him, he couldn’t exactly escape in a hurry anyhow.

  He rested his chin on the ground and closed his eyes and slept.

  Blue slept for most of the day, drifting in and out when there were sounds of the hunt overhead; but each time he woke, Cricket was there, and he felt safe enough to sleep again.

  At last she nudged him awake and they squeezed out of the hidden crevice onto the ledge outside. The sky was just turning purple blue and a few stars were out. Blue stretched out all his cramped muscles while Cricket flew down to get Swordtail.

  After that, it took only a little more climbing before he reached the top of the sinkhole and scrambled onto safe, flat ground. It was strange how dry it felt up here, after the dampness of the deep cave. Dust billowed up between his claws as he cut off the silk harness and threw it down the hole.

  Now that he wasn’t flying, though, Wasp Hive looked horribly far away. Could they possibly make it there before dawn? Even if they did, would there be anywhere else to hide as safe as the sinkhole?

  “I’ll scout ahead,” Swordtail called, soaring away. His deep blue wings were soon swallowed up by the night, and all Blue could see of him were the little flickers of white along his back, like a flurry of snow moths.

  Cricket landed to walk beside Blue, between the tufts of grass and stabby little thornbushes. He glanced down at his talons and realized that a lot of the paint had flaked off, probably from wading in the lake and scraping against the rocks. His real colors were showing through all over his body, glints of aquamarine and violet shimmering like buried jewels.

  They went as fast as they could, although sometimes they had to detour around particularly dense shrubs or anthills as big as they were. At one point a scorpion ran across Blue’s foot and he nearly shrieked, but managed not to. The air was full of buzzing and zipping and the tall grass rustled as snakes glided out of their way.

  Two of the moons were full; the other was barely a sliver behind a veil of clouds. Cricket tipped her head back to look up at them.

  “Did you see the comet about half a year ago?” she asked. “The one that looked like an extra moon in the sky? It was so big. I wished so much that I had a telescope to study it with, but there’s only one in Cicada Hive, and Lady Scarab won’t lend it to anyone.”

  “You know Lady Scarab?” Blue asked.

  “You know Lady Scarab?” she replied skeptically.

  “No, we just — we ran into her, in The Sugar Dream, early on Luna’s Metamorphosis Day. She was … I feel like nice is the wrong word, but she was sort of fiercely not awful to us.”

  “That sounds like her,” Cricket said ruefully. “Fiercely not awful.”

  Blue sensed there was more to Cricket’s connection with the old dragon, but she didn’t seem to want to talk about it. He changed the subject to astronomy, and they happily discussed constellations and her theories about other planets until Blue realized they were reaching the outskirts of Wasp Hive.

  They crested a small hill and studied the structures laid out below them. Wasp Hive was not quite like the other Hives — it was bigger, for one thing, and the oldest Hive on Pantala, so it was built in a heavier, more ornate style. There were carvings of cruel-eyed wasps adorning the entrances, brandishing the wealth of the Hive in their excess wood and onyx inlays. An enormous marble statue of Queen Wasp loomed over the ground-floor doors, so anyone entering that way would have to pass under her merciless gaze.

  But most dragons would enter at a higher level. Blue glanced up at the moonlit webs twining overhead. He could see the dark forms of SilkWing family clusters up there, hundreds of sleeping dragons, like stones seen through water. Did any of them know about flamesilks? Did any of them help imprison and feed dragons like Luna and his father — and did they hate it every day, or was it just a normal job to them? He wondered if the Chrysalis extended across Hives, and whether any of them were in it.

  All around the Hive were neatly laid-out rows of enormous greenhouses — at least thirty of them — in concentric circles surrounding the base of the Hive. Some were wild with growth, leaves rioting against the glass roofs. Others were quieter, with orderly rows of vegetables and soil boxes visible inside.

  That many greenhouses … so much glass. She needed fire to make that glass to build these, Blue thought. Fire she took from SilkWings. From my dad. Flamesilk was necessary to everything the queen did.

  She wasn’t going to let them go easily.

  Swordtail landed softly beside them. “The main door is barred for the night, and possibly guarded inside as well. There’s no way in there.” He tipped his head back to study the Hive.

  “Let’s think. Could we climb to one of the ledges?” Cricket asked. “Using the vines and your silk for Blue?”

  Blue eyed the smooth walls of the Hive uncertainly. It looked like a much more treacherous climb than the one out of the sinkhole, and the nearest opening was a very long way up.

  “Or … ” he said slowly. “Could we hide in one of the greenhouses? At least until we know a little more?”

  “That’s a good point,” Cricket said. “If we go into the Hive, we might get trapped in there, and it might not even be the right place to look, right? But if we find a place to hide, tomorrow I can go in and ask around about where the flamesilks might be.”

  Blue gave her an alarmed look. “By yourself?”

  “Of course,” she said. “You two are probably all over the wanted posters by now. But who cares about me? I’m just a HiveWing, doing normal HiveWing things.”

  “Like suddenly appearing in a Hive that’s not your own?” Blue said. “Asking obvious questions about the very thing that’s got the queen running dragon hunts all over the savanna?”

  “They won’t be OBVIOUS questions,” Cricket objected. “They will be VERY SUBTLE. I am an EXCEPTIONALLY subtle dragon, sir.”

  “Hmm,” Blue said dubiously.

  “Besides, it won’t be suspicious because everyone will be talking about flamesilks right now,” she pointed out. “And someone has to know where they are.”

  Swordtail was shaking his head. “That’s another day wasted,” he said. “Luna’s only going to be in
her cocoon five days. We have to find her before she comes out. And before Blue starts his own Metamorphosis.”

  Blue twitched, startled. His own Metamorphosis! Swordtail was right. That was … soon. Very VERY soon.

  Where am I supposed to have my Metamorphosis, if I can’t go back to the Cocoon? And how can I help Luna if I’m stuck inside my own silk?

  “I say we storm the Hive right now,” Swordtail went on. “I fly in, start knocking over guards, force them to tell me where she is.”

  “I’d call that a splendid plan,” Cricket said, “if it resembled a plan in any way.”

  “You’ll end up on the Wasp Hive version of Misbehaver’s Way before the sun is over the horizon,” Blue agreed.

  “And the Wasp Hive version might be more like Headless Corpses Way,” Cricket added.

  Swordtail stamped his feet. “I can’t sit around all day again.”

  “We’re not sitting around,” Cricket said. “We’re spying. And gathering information. And thinking. You’d be surprised what a useful step that is when it comes to plans.”

  She started down the hill toward the greenhouses and the two SilkWings followed her, Swordtail grumbling under his breath. Blue felt guilty for being on Cricket’s side. Of course he wanted to rescue Luna just as much as Swordtail did. But he didn’t want to fight any guards or demand answers or rush in all teeth-bared. He kind of wanted to do whatever would get him in the least trouble that would also help Luna.

  The greenhouses were all the same size, which was remarkably large, and divided from one another by neat gravel paths. Stakes with signs and arrows printed on them pointed the way to particular types of plants, and a list was affixed to the door of each greenhouse: CARROTS, BEANS, EGGPLANTS on one; CLEMENTINES, LIMES on another; PAPYRUS, BAMBOO on a third.

  They avoided the greenhouses that were too tidy, where every corner was visible, and headed for the ones that looked the most overgrown.

  “These are probably tended every day,” Blue realized as they walked between the towering glass walls. He was starting to feel anxious about his plan. “Gardeners will come in to water the plants and find us.”

  “I will BONK THEM AND CONK THEM OUT,” Swordtail declared.

  Poor dragons, just trying to do their jobs and take care of some plants. They don’t deserve a day of being knocked unconscious plus a massive headache, Blue thought.

  Well, said his brain unexpectedly, YOU don’t deserve to be chased across the savanna and treated like a mass murderer, so perhaps there’s a little unfairness to go around.

  He wrinkled his forehead, thinking about that. Did their injustice toward him mean that he’d be justified in hurting them?

  He wasn’t the kind of dragon who ever hurt other dragons. But he could imagine what Luna would say. You’re allowed to fight back. You should, when the world is like this.

  “Look,” Cricket whispered, pointing to one of the last greenhouses, in the innermost circle near the back of the Hive. The plant growth inside was dense and leafy, but what was even more interesting was the fact that the door was covered with a silk-spun web barrier.

  They crossed to it and read the sign beside the door: DO NOT ENTER, BY ORDER OF QUEEN WASP. PROPERTY OF THE QUEEN. TRESPASSING PUNISHABLE BY MAIMING, DISMEMBERMENT, IMPALING, AND DEATH, IN THAT ORDER.

  Blue lightly tapped the silk with one of his claws and the threads vibrated. “This is here so she’ll know if anyone tries to break in.”

  “Can you re-create it?” Cricket asked Swordtail. “From inside? Seems like a perfect place to hide, if no one can come in here.”

  “Except, you know, Queen Wasp,” Blue pointed out.

  “Yeah, but … she probably won’t?” Cricket guessed.

  “This sign is really clear, though,” Blue said anxiously. “No trespassing at all. Maiming and impaling and death! I mean. This sign seems to think it’s a really serious rule.”

  “I think ‘keep Blue safe from brainwashed HiveWings’ is a more serious rule,” Cricket said firmly.

  “Yeah, I can do this,” said Swordtail, who’d been studying the web. “It might not be an exact match, but it should look convincing enough from a distance.”

  As Blue watched nervously, Swordtail carefully dismantled the web enough for Cricket to open the door. She stepped inside and let out a small gasp.

  “It’s really hot in here,” she whispered back to them. “How does she keep it this hot?”

  “I have a guess,” Swordtail hissed. He scowled at the silk spiraling out of his wrists as he started reweaving the door cover.

  Blue squeezed in behind Cricket and felt the humidity hit him along with several flapping wet leaves. It was like walking into a storm cloud. He glanced down and wondered if the stone floor was lined with flamesilk to keep it this temperature.

  “Why do you think Queen Wasp keeps everyone out of here?” Cricket whispered to him. “Do any of these plants look unusual to you? I recognize some of them, but not all of them. Huh.” She brushed his shoulder with her wing and they moved farther into the tangle of greenery.

  That was a good question, Blue realized — one he hadn’t thought about because he was so tangled up in anxiety about breaking the rules. What was in here that Queen Wasp wanted to keep secret? Why was this place so forbidden?

  Now he could see that there were beds of dirt edged with boulders, and something like a path between them, but the plants had grown so wild that they vaulted over the paths, twined their branches together, and flung down curtains of hanging moss and trailing vines to disrupt any possible order. He and Cricket had to duck and weave through the greenery, and he kept getting his claws snagged on roots and unexpected runners.

  There were flowers everywhere, too: glorious purple exploding stars, delicate pale orange orchids, clusters of petals the color of bananas, and odd little globes in ruby red and sapphire blue.

  “What are these?” Cricket whispered, mostly to herself, fingering a vine of bright pink tendrils. “And those? Why haven’t we studied these? How did she get these two to grow next to each other? Whoa, is that a new kind of fern?” She wandered ahead, murmuring questions, while Blue stopped to watch a really surprisingly cute snail sauntering slowly up a tree trunk.

  Suddenly Cricket’s voice cut off with a shriek that was quickly muffled. Blue’s head jerked up. Was Queen Wasp here? Inside the greenhouse? Had she caught Cricket?

  He ran after her, stumbling as he fought through vine tangles and got smacked in the face by eighty more large, wet leaves. He had to explain to the queen that none of this was Cricket’s fault! He had to turn himself in!

  He pushed through a curtain of moss and felt himself seized by strong claws. They threw him to the floor, flipped him onto his back, and tied all his talons together before he could even blink. He opened his mouth to yell for Cricket, and another vine immediately looped around his snout, snapping his jaw shut. It felt as if barely a moment had passed, but there he was, lying on the ground, completely helpless.

  Blue craned his neck to look for Cricket and spotted her, tied up the same way he was and propped against a tree. Standing over her was a wiry dark green dragon.

  So, not Queen Wasp, he thought. Could that be the SilkWing who covers the door for her?

  He tried to twist around to see his own attacker and realized there were three of them altogether. All of them had scales in shades of dark green, and they were all poised and waiting to catch Swordtail, who was blundering toward the noise Blue and Cricket had made.

  And then.

  Blue noticed something.

  Their captors … they had two wings each, not four.

  Long, graceful, swooping wings shaped like leaves.

  LeafWings!

  They weren’t extinct. They were HERE. In Queen Wasp’s greenhouse! Attacking dragons! Real actual LeafWings! The posters were right!

  I should alert a HiveWing authority immediately! Blue thought, feeling a little hysterical. But I can’t because they’ll arrest me!

/>   But LEAFWINGS! This close to Wasp Hive!

  He tried to grunt loudly to warn Swordtail, but it didn’t do any good. The trio of LeafWings moved with ruthless efficiency, and within a few heartbeats Swordtail was tied up next to Blue, blinking with similar bewilderment.

  “Are there any more?” one of them asked.

  “I’ll check,” said another, and he quietly melted off into the trees.

  There was a long moment of silence. Blue glanced over at Cricket again. She was watching the LeafWings with the same wide-eyed expression she’d had when she saw the reading monkey in the cave.

  This is not an exciting scientific discovery, Cricket! he wanted to shout. These are VERY DANGEROUS DRAGONS! The LeafWings had tried to wipe out both their tribes in the last war. Wasn’t she deathly afraid of them?

  He tried to look at the LeafWings with Cricket’s eyes. Maybe he would be less scared that way. Maybe he just needed to see them as fascinating and unusual, instead of deadly and really extremely deadly.

  The two that had stayed were both female, and their faces were similar enough that he wondered if they were related. The one standing by Cricket looked no older than he was — about six years old — although he had no idea if LeafWings grew differently than SilkWings. Small gold scales were speckled along the edges of her wings and talons and across her snout, crinkled up in her scowl.

  The other one was a lot older and bigger, with an air of authority about her that made Blue instinctively want to hide or say he was sorry or both. Her scales were lighter green with patches of brown, and she had strange pale burn scars splattered across her talons and up her forearms. Her scowl was also pretty terrifying. Both dragons had several small pouches hung about them, woven from long grass or fashioned from leaves. Blue wondered what was inside but had a sinking feeling that he would regret finding out.

  What are they thinking? he wondered. The matching scowls were a pretty good clue that whatever it was, the general sentiment was hostile. How long have they been here? What are they here for? Are they glad they caught us, or annoyed that we stumbled into their hiding place?