Runaway Read online

  Snow drifted through the window, gathering softly along the sill and feathering the floor. The sky outside was dark, and the silver flakes looked as if they were whirling up out of a deep abyss.

  Prince Arctic stared into that abyss, thinking that it looked an awful lot like his future.

  Pinned under Mother’s claws for the rest of my life. Unable to use my own magic after the gifting ceremony. Married to Snowflake, who hates me.

  Never seeing Foeslayer again.

  How could he bear it?

  How could this be all he’d ever have of happiness — nine days of secret meetings, and then nothing more for the rest of his life?

  Snowflake had become more unfriendly with each passing day, responding to him with the barest minimum of chilly conversation. It was almost like someone — the great ice dragon, the universe, whoever — wanted to make it very clear how different Snowflake and Foeslayer were.

  Because Foeslayer … she was sunlight and all the moons and the whole star-filled sky. He’d met her only nine days ago but already she was the beginning and end of his universe. She made him laugh — had anyone else ever done that? She made him want to be warm. She made him brave and careless; she made him forget about circles and walls and protocol and ranks and rules.

  She made him a dragon he actually wanted to be.

  But she was leaving.

  The day after tomorrow, the NightWings would be escorted over the Great Ice Cliff and their protective bracelets would be removed. Foeslayer would fly south and out of his life, while Arctic flew north with his mother and the royal guard. Home to the main palace, to prepare for his gifting ceremony.

  Tonight would be the second-to-last time he’d be able to sneak off and see her alone. Tonight, tomorrow night, and then never again.

  It had been difficult to find a safe time to meet. The NightWings normally slept all day, while the IceWings slept at night, like normal dragons. But for the purposes of this visit, the NightWings had shifted their schedule over, waking in the late afternoon so they could negotiate with the queen and dine with her court in the evenings, and then going to bed in the early morning when it was still dark outside. So there was a small window of time when everyone (except the night watch guards) was asleep, and that was when Arctic and Foeslayer met, in the stolen moments before dawn.

  Arctic brushed a tiny pile of snow into his talons and stared at it, thinking of how snowflakes like these melted when they touched Foeslayer’s scales.

  A strange feeling crept over him … a crawling sensation between his wings … a sense of being watched.

  He whirled around.

  His mother stood in the doorway, filling the frame like a glacier that had swept in from the mountains, crushing everything in its path. Ice-blue diamonds cascaded from her ears and around her neck and all along her tail band, but none of them glittered as sharply or as dangerously as her eyes.

  Arctic wanted to ask how long she’d been standing there, but of course, instead, he bowed deeply. He imagined Foeslayer yelping, “Official creepiest queen in Pyrrhia!” and was glad he had a moment with his head down so he could compose his face.

  “Ssssson,” Diamond hissed. “Why are you awake at this hour?”

  Arctic arranged his wings and head in the approved talking-to-the-queen position. “I couldn’t sleep, Your Majesty.” Why are YOU awake? Are you spying on me? Do you know something?

  “That sounds very undisciplined,” she rumbled, her gaze traveling around the room. “The tribe has strict sleep schedules for a reason. If you have been disrupting yours — as I suspected after I caught you yawning during our breakfast with Snowflake and her parents — then I will assign a chronologer to fix you.”

  “With gratitude and respect,” Arctic said, feeling absolutely none of either, “may I humbly observe that my trouble sleeping seems likely to be related to my gifting ceremony, and therefore is sure to be temporary.”

  “I didn’t lose sleep over my gifting ceremony.” Diamond slithered across the floor toward him, her claws leaving furrows in the ice. “Which strain of weakness plagues you? Cowardice? Indecision? Wild fantasies of making different choices?”

  That last one was a little too close to the truth. Arctic held his eyes steady; his expression unreadable; his answer, silence.

  “A true IceWing would not have any such troubles,” Diamond said. She loomed over him as though she could read guilt in each of his scales. “I’ve told you what your gift should be. Obey without question, and you have nothing to fear. Then you will sleep like a loyal IceWing — deeply, and at the appropriate assigned times.”

  Arctic didn’t trust himself to speak. His mind echoed with the sound of Foeslayer laughing, two nights ago, as he playfully wrapped a curtain around her snout to muffle the noise. She’d pushed him away, giggling, and freed herself.

  “Seriously, explain this so it actually makes sense,” she’d said. “Your mother wants you to make a what?”

  “A bowl of ice — or a moon globe, or a mirror would be acceptable — that much I’m allowed to decide, apparently.”

  “With the power to … ?”

  “… predict the weather,” he’d admitted.

  “That’s it?”

  “Well — to predict it pretty far in advance, mind you. At least a year ahead.”

  “Um, I can predict your weather a year in advance. It’s going to … wait for it … oh, this is pretty shocking … it’s going to SNOW! And then a couple of days later … you’re not going to believe it … snow again! And then, wait, this one’s a bit tricky … hang on to your tails, everyone … it looks like we’re in for about three hundred and sixty-five more days of … great moons! MORE SNOW!”

  “Stop making me laugh! I’m going to end up with weird little laugh wrinkles around my eyes and no one in the Ice Kingdom will know what they are.”

  “I like your weird little laugh wrinkles.”

  “I like your weird little way you mispronounce words.”

  “I BEG your pardon. YOU’RE the one who says things all squonkily.”

  “That’s not a word at all. And incidentally, sometimes our snow comes in the form of a raging terrible blizzard, which would be quite useful to know about ahead of time, thank you very much.”

  “But come on,” Foeslayer had said, rolling her eyes. “How can she call that a ‘gift of vision’? Is there anything less visionary you could do with your powers? Don’t listen to her, Arctic. It’s your magic. Make something completely wonderful with it.”

  “Yeah?” he’d said. “Like what?”

  “Well — if you really want a ‘gift of vision,’ why not have it show more of the future than the weather? Like, who the next queen of the SkyWings is going to be, or how the dispute along the Great Five-Tail River will be resolved, or where the best veins of silver and diamond mines can be found? You could make it see the future or answer any question you ask it or show you any dragon on the continent or literally ANYTHING more interesting than the weather.”

  Arctic had stared at her.

  “Ooo, I love that face,” she’d said. “That’s your ‘I wish I’d thought of that!’ face! I know you do. Don’t feel bad; I’m just way smarter than you.”

  “You aggravating moonhead —”

  “Here’s the thing, though,” she’d interrupted him — no one interrupted him! “Don’t actually do that, because if you enchant it to see the future or answer any question, then the queen will be able to find out who kills her to become the next queen. And I’m pretty sure she’ll straight-up murder that granddaughter in her egg.” She’d hesitated. “Your daughter,” she’d added softly.

  Arctic’s imaginary future as a father having dragonets with Snowflake had never felt less real, less possible.

  “Do you have any other ideas for animus gifts?” he’d asked.

  “Only about eighty million!” she’d said. “Do you want to hear them all? Feel free to take notes in case your brain gets tired.”

  “Listen,
NightWing, don’t you know you’re not supposed to talk to princes that way?”

  “I think there’s a lot of things we’re both doing right now that we’re not supposed to,” she’d pointed out, sweeping her wing around the alcove where they were hiding.

  “Like falling in love?” he’d asked, taking her talons in his.

  “Now that,” she’d whispered back, “is something you’re definitely, absolutely not supposed to say.”

  “Arctic!” Queen Diamond barked.

  He jumped, and realized with a rush of terror that he hadn’t been holding his expression still while the memory washed over him. What had Diamond seen in his face in that unguarded moment? Could she guess what it meant?

  “I asked you a question,” she said, her voice brimming with outrage.

  Oh, worse and worse. “My deepest apologies,” he said, bowing low again. “Perhaps I am more tired than I thought and should go to sleep at once.”

  “Answer it first,” she snapped. “Do you swear to give the tribe the gift of vision as I described it to you?”

  He hesitated. It was dangerous and unheard of to contradict her — his parent and his queen — but if he lied and said yes, she’d be even more furious when he disobeyed her at the gifting ceremony itself.

  “I have another idea,” he said cautiously. “I was hoping to discuss it with you. Perhaps in the morning?” He had to get rid of her. Foeslayer must be in their spot by now, waiting. She’d wonder why he wasn’t there.

  She wouldn’t come looking for me here, would she? he thought with another bolt of fear. She was just bold enough and reckless enough to make such a mistake. And if Diamond saw a NightWing appear in her son’s doorway in the middle of the night … someone wouldn’t survive till dawn.

  “Another idea?” said the queen. “One of your own? I don’t like the sound of that. Very well, you may present it to me first thing in the morning.”

  She stalked toward the hall as Arctic breathed a stifled sigh of relief. In a moment she’d be gone, and then he could run to Foeslayer, warn her, and send her flying back to her room as fast as possible.

  Queen Diamond stopped in the doorway and gave Arctic a merciless, piercing look. “To make sure that you do sleep,” she said, “and that you wake at the precisely correct time in order to attend our appointment, I will leave these two guards here inside your door.” She flicked her tail out into the hall, and two large IceWing soldiers slipped inside. Big, burly, stone-faced. Not to be argued with, bribed, or tricked. A wall of indestructible ice between him and Foeslayer.

  “That’s not —” Arctic started, then bit back the rest of his sentence as his mother hissed at him.

  “In fact,” she spat, “since you are so overwhelmed by this animus gift decision, it seems best for you to stay in seclusion until it is time for the ceremony. Clearly something here has been distracting you, but we won’t let that be a problem anymore.”

  Arctic’s heart fell, spinning away into the abyss with the snow.

  “Obedience,” Queen Diamond said. “Discipline. Order. Strength. And knowing your place. These are the hallmarks of a true IceWing. Don’t you ever forget it again, Arctic.”

  She swept away, leaving Arctic cut off from the dragon he loved forever.

  Snowflake felt Fox’s tail curl around hers, their spikes clicking together.

  “Did you hear all that?” Fox whispered.

  It was windy and snowy on the balcony across from Arctic’s room, but always deserted after dark, and a perfect spot to keep an eye on his movements all night. They’d been watching him sneak off to meet with Foeslayer every night at about this time, but seeing the queen sweep through like a blizzard was a shock.

  “How did she know?” Snowflake whispered back. “If her plan for him works, then ours is ruined.”

  “We won’t let that happen,” Fox said, squeezing Snowflake’s talon. “You will never have to marry him. I swear by the eggs that hatched the world.” She shook the snow off her snout and glanced across at Arctic’s shadowy door. “Maybe we were thinking too small anyway. If they were caught together, yes, there would be a scandal, and he would be dishonored, and your parents might let you back out of the marriage. But they might not — they might cover it up somehow. He’s still an animus, which makes him valuable, even if Diamond has to kill a quartet of NightWings to clean up his mess.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

  “We need him out of the kingdom,” Snowflake suggested. “Or dead. Otherwise someone else will marry him and have dragonets. I haven’t forgotten that we’re here to solve your problem, too.”

  “Yours first,” said Fox. “Yours is more urgent. I can deal with dragonets later if I have to.”

  Snowflake smiled and brushed a stray ice crystal from Fox’s cheek. Fox hadn’t approached Snowflake looking for an ally. Fox had been hoping to sow discord and mistrust between Snowflake and Arctic for her own purposes.

  But everything was different now that they knew each other. Fox wanted to protect Snowflake with a fierceness that matched Snowflake’s own desire to get Fox on the throne.

  A dragon I would do anything for. That’s something I never thought I’d see.

  “Out of the kingdom,” Fox echoed suddenly. “Do you think … is he stupid enough to run away with her?”

  “If he’s not,” Snowflake said, “can we make him that stupid?”

  “He’d have to use his magic to get past those two guards,” said Fox.

  “And to get her safely away from here,” said Snowflake. “Would he risk his soul that way?”

  “Risk his soul and break the IceWings’ strictest rule about animus power. He’s a rule follower. I haven’t seen any sign of secret courage in him before.”

  “Neither have I. And for something like this … he’d have to break a lot of rules.”

  Fox flicked her wings back. “He’d have to be desperate.”

  What would make me desperate? Snowflake thought for a moment, then said slowly, “He’d have to think she was in danger.”

  “Yes,” Fox breathed.

  “I can do that,” Snowflake said. “Queen Diamond will let me visit him tomorrow, even if no one else can. I’ll hint to him that the queen is displeased with the turn the negotiations have taken.”

  “He’ll believe that,” Fox observed, “because it’s true. Those NightWings are as arrogant as Diamond. It’s almost funny to see which side can stick their snouts higher in the air.”

  “Yes, this proposed alliance was never going to work.” Snowflake hunched her wings against a gust of wind. “I could have told them that from the beginning.”

  “So when he hears that the queen is angry with them …”

  “Then I’ll hint that the queen might have other, deadlier plans for the NightWings … especially for one of them.”

  “And he’ll believe that,” said Fox, “because Diamond was acting like she knew all about his secret romance tonight. Whether she really does know or not, he’ll find it easy to imagine that she might kill his dear moon-eyed truly beloved out of vengeance or spite.”

  “Or to make sure she’s out of his life forever.” Snowflake nodded. “It will be almost too easy to slip those worries into his mind after tonight.”

  “You’re brilliant,” said Fox, tossing her wings wide and spinning on the balcony, letting the snow whirl around her. “And meanwhile, I’ll spread a rumor among the guards that something strange might be happening tomorrow night. If they see Arctic trying to escape with the NightWings, he won’t be able to change his mind and slither back. He’ll have to keep flying.”

  “Don’t let Queen Diamond find out, though,” Snowflake said. “She needs to sleep through it, or else she could use her magic to stop them.”

  “No fear,” said Fox. “She’ll miss the whole thing. In fact, I might have a sleeping potion I bought from a RainWing once that could be useful …”

  “You’re brilliant,” said Snowflake.

  “I hope the guards won’t be coward
s,” Fox said, looking out at the whirling snowflakes. “I want to make sure Arctic doesn’t get past us without a fight.”

  “I want to be there, too,” said Snowflake. “I want to see his face when he realizes he’s not the great ice dragon’s gift to the world after all. When he discovers we’ve outsmarted him.”

  “And if something goes wrong,” said Fox, making an innocently sad face, “and he doesn’t make it … or they both don’t make it …”

  “Well,” said Snowflake, “that wouldn’t be the end of the world either.”

  Snow, endless snow, snow as far as the edge of the universe, snow forever; snow in her nose and between her claws and melting into her scales and sticking to her talons and weighing down her wings; snow on the rooftops, burying the palace, covering the world; snow everywhere, always falling, always underfoot, always sneaking through the windows and under the blankets and WHY WAS THERE SO MUCH MOON-SPLATTING SNOW?

  “I hate this kingdom,” Foeslayer offered, pacing up and down the small room again.

  “Really,” said Prudence drily. She was rolling blankets and packing their belongings, preparing for their departure in the morning. “That’s surprising. You’ve been acting obnoxiously cheerful since we got here.”

  “I … liked being away from court,” Foeslayer said. “But I don’t know how anyone can live like this. I bet having snow in their faces all the time is what makes them so grumpy. Their boring landscapes and no fire anywhere and creepy floating lights. I bet it turns them all into total jerks.”

  Prudence gave her a strange look and Foeslayer realized she should probably shut up.

  But he was a jerk. How could he not show up, when he knew she was leaving? Had all his pretty sparkly words been lies? Did he always flirt with strange dragons who visited his kingdom and then drop them without saying good-bye?

  I know it had to be good-bye. But couldn’t we at least have that?

  And then he hadn’t appeared at any of the final farewell gatherings or the last feast. Foeslayer’s mother thought he was snubbing them, “typical IceWing prince.” Foeslayer had worried that he was sick, or that something terrible had happened.