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  He let go of the princess and sat up, trying to catch some of the sand that slid off his wings before it made even more of a mess on the floor.

  “RrrrrrROAR!” Blaze shouted, shoving him away. She jumped to her feet and shook herself vigorously, covering him and the room and the dragons around them with even more sand. “You ruined everything and now I’ll never find it! MOOOMMY!!!”

  “Your mother is overseeing the sandstorm lockdown,” said a tall, burly dragon, shoving through the crowd to stand over her. “So you can tell me what exactly you were doing so far outside the palace.”

  Blaze puffed up her chest. “You’re not the boss of me!”

  “I’m one of them,” he said sternly. “I am your father.”

  Six-Claws tried to rub away the grit in his eyes so he could see better. Char was the queen’s husband, referred to by most SandWings as the king, although he had only as much power as Queen Oasis let him have. Sometimes he went everywhere with the queen, welcomed into advisory meetings and diplomatic gatherings, and then sometimes they would fight and he’d be exiled from the palace for months at a time.

  According to Six-Claws’s parents, it was safest to be polite and respectful to Char, but never get too close, because you wouldn’t want the queen to associate you with him the next time Char fell out of favor.

  As Blaze launched into a long, complicated story about her friends and her stolen crown, Six-Claws turned and found Dune behind him, wide-eyed.

  “That was alarming,” Dune said. “I thought you weren’t going to make it back.”

  Six-Claws shrugged. “We did. I’d better go shake off this sand in one of the baths.”

  “Father,” said a cold voice, slicing through Blaze’s breathless narrative. “Shouldn’t we ask the name of the dragon who took our little sister out into such terrible danger?”

  A chill like midnight in the desert slithered down Six-Claws’s spine. He watched the crowd part around Princess Blister as she stepped forward. Her obsidian-black eyes raked over Six-Claws. He could practically see her mind analyzing him and fitting him into a category — something like Irksome Nuisance or Idiot Who Ruined My Plan.

  “He didn’t take her out there!” Dune said, raising his tail defensively. “He saw her out there alone and rescued her, that’s what he did!”

  “Ah,” said Blister. Her tail rattled softly on the floor. “Really. What a hero.”

  “Right,” said Dune, subsiding. “That’s what he is. His name is Six-Claws. And I’m Dune, by the way.”

  “SIX-Claws?” Blaze interrupted. She wriggled out of her father’s arms and flounced over to inspect Six-Claws’s talons. “Ew! Three moons! You really do have six claws on each foot! That’s so weird! I can’t believe you touched me with those!” She leaned closer to stare at the extra claws, then jumped back quickly when he pulled his talons into his chest.

  Six-Claws felt as if his face was burning. No one had made fun of his odd talons in years, not since his first month in the wingery. He’d always worked hard to prove that it made no difference — he was as valuable as any other dragon. It didn’t change anything about what he could do. It just … looked odd.

  “Yeeeeeeee,” Blaze said scornfully. She held out her own perfect, beautiful talons, decorated with three glittering rings. “I’m so glad I have the right number of claws.”

  Right then, deep in his heart, Six-Claws decided that he sincerely hoped Blaze would never be queen of the SandWings.

  “I’m sure what my daughter is trying to say,” Char interjected, “is thank you for saving her life.” He gently steered Blaze away from Six-Claws, toward the mirrors across the hall. The little SandWing took one look at herself, gasped in horror, and stormed off toward the baths, radiating outrage.

  “We should reward such a brave hero,” Blister purred, slithering an inch closer to Six-Claws. “I can think of a few missions he’d be perfect for …”

  A few missions I’m not likely to come back from, Six-Claws thought with a shiver.

  “I have a better idea,” Char said, cutting her off. Blister narrowed her eyes at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Brave and strong and a swift flier for your age — how would you like to join the army, Six-Claws? We could use a soldier like you. You could make your way up to captain pretty fast, maybe general one day.”

  “If that’s what the queen wants, sir,” Six-Claws said. It was probably safer than whatever Blister had in mind for him. His mother would approve. And soldiers were useful, weren’t they? Even in times of peace, like now, there were always skirmishes going on with the SkyWings or IceWings.

  “I’ll see to it,” Char said with a nod.

  Something jabbed Six-Claws in the side and he whipped around, tail up, before realizing it was Dune, with a very meaningful expression on his face.

  “Uh,” Six-Claws said. “My, um … my friend Dune helped, too.”

  “Oh, yes?” said Char. “Would you like to join the army as well, dragonet?”

  “Yes, please, sir!” Dune said eagerly.

  “Hmmm. You’re a bit young, but we can put you in basic training for now. I’ll have you two assigned to the same battalion.” Char nodded again, looking pleased with himself, and wandered away.

  Outside, the wind was howling and rattling the shutters with enormous fury. Six-Claws had a feeling he’d be sweeping sand out of every crevice in the palace tomorrow.

  Except he wouldn’t be, if Char did as he’d promised. He’d be in soldier training instead, set on a path to a new future. With a new best friend, apparently; Dune was beaming from ear to ear, as though Six-Claws had saved him instead of Blaze.

  He felt eyes watching him, and when he turned, he saw Blister fix a malevolent glare on him before she slipped out of the room.

  I mustn’t forget I have a new enemy now, too.

  And a new reason to hope that Queen Oasis lives for a very, very long time.

  The night Queen Oasis died, Six-Claws and Dune were off duty. That is, they were not scheduled for any soldiers’ duties, but they were on duty in a different way: watching over a weeping prince to make sure he didn’t do anything regrettable.

  “She’s gone,” Smolder sobbed, plunking his head on his arms and flopping his wings over the table. Several glasses of cactus cider went crashing to the floor and shattered around their talons. “I’m never going to see her again.”

  Smolder’s two brothers exchanged an exasperated glance over his head.

  “That’s your own fault,” said Singe. He nudged a shard of glass away from his feet and beckoned for Dune to sweep it up. “If you hadn’t made it so serious, Mother wouldn’t have had to intervene.”

  “You know how she feels about any of us getting married,” Scald agreed. “You’ve always known it.”

  “Yeah, it’s a simple policy,” said Singe. “No marriage, no dragonets, no extra heirs causing problems. As long as we follow the queen’s rules, she leaves us alone.”

  “Couldn’t you keep it casual like the rest of us?” Scald added. “I have three girlfriends right now and everyone’s perfectly happy and not serious. And safe.” He lifted his claws as Dune swept around them. Six-Claws slid another pitcher of cider onto the table.

  “But Palm was different,” Smolder cried. “I loved her. We would have gone away forever and never come back! Mother didn’t ever have to see us again!” He lifted his head and turned teary, pleading eyes to Six-Claws. “Have you heard anything? Do you know where she is?”

  “No,” Six-Claws admitted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry.” He was glad he didn’t know. He felt very grateful that he hadn’t been one of the soldiers sent to deal with Smolder’s true love.

  “Smolder, come on,” Singe said, sitting down beside him and putting one wing over his younger brother’s back. “You’re not an idiot. You know perfectly well she’s dead.”

  “She isn’t,” Smolder yelled, flinging him off. “She can’t be! Mother is cruel but she wouldn’t do that.”

  “Of course
she would,” Scald said. “Do you really not remember our aunts? And how they vanished in this exact same way?”

  Six-Claws retreated to the far wall, where he could stare out the window. He didn’t like to be reminded of the terrible things Queen Oasis had done to hang on to her throne — and whatever she’d done to Palm hit a little too close to home. He knew Palm. She’d worked in the kitchens with his father for a little while, back before both his father and Char had died from the weird sickness that swept the palace a few years ago.

  Palm was a sweet, clever, nervous dragon who adored Smolder and was terrified of the queen. She would never have raised dragonets to challenge Oasis. He was sure she would have happily disappeared into the desert with Smolder and never bothered the queen again.

  But they’d been caught while they were trying to elope, and now Palm had really disappeared, most likely never to bother anyone ever again.

  He sighed, staring out at the three crescent moons that carved up the sky. A shadow flashed overhead, huge and moving fast. Was that … the queen? Flying out of the palace at this hour of the night?

  That was strange.

  “Why doesn’t she just kill me, too?” Smolder wailed. There was another thump, and another crash of glass splintering.

  Dune sidled up beside Six-Claws. “Hey. Did you hear what General Needle said about me today?”

  “Something admiring, I assume.” Six-Claws smiled at his friend. After all these years, they were still paired together by everyone, for everything. Six-Claws had risen to colonel in the SandWing army, and Dune was always a few steps behind him — a captain at the moment, but sure to become a major any day.

  “She said I have more promise than any officer she’s ever seen.” Dune lifted his chin, glowing with pride. “She said I have extraordinarily strong wings for a SandWing — almost like a SkyWing’s! She said I’d be commanding armies of my own in no time.”

  “She’s right,” Six-Claws agreed. “Do you smell something weird?”

  “No,” said Dune, sounding ruffled. “Can we get back to talking about how amazing I am, please?”

  Six-Claws stuck his nose out the window, sniffing. “It smells like … mammal. But not one of the usual desert animals.”

  Suddenly a fierce roar tore through the night. A blast of fire lit up the sky beyond the palace wall, followed by more roaring, wild and agonized as though someone was being murdered.

  “What is that?” Dune cried.

  In the room behind them, all three princes were on their feet, blinking and startled.

  “It sounded like Mother,” said Scald. “But I thought she was asleep.”

  “Let’s go find out.” Six-Claws darted out of the room with the others behind him. They raced to the nearest courtyard, opened their wings, and flowed over the palace rooftops. The roaring had stopped, leaving only echoes like shredded holes in the air.

  Other dragons joined them, calling to one another in confusion, and so it was a fair crowd that came over the top of the outer walls together …

  … and found the queen lying dead in the sand.

  Somebody shrieked, a long wordless cry of rage. It might have been Scald, or it might have been Six-Claws’s mother, Ostrich, now pushing past everyone to crouch beside the body. It might have been both of them, or himself, or everyone together.

  “Who did this?” Ostrich yelled. “Who killed our queen?”

  “Was there a duel?” another dragon asked. “Did I miss it?”

  “I didn’t hear about a challenge,” Singe answered, looking around blankly. “In the middle of the night? Out here? With no witnesses?”

  Burn suddenly landed with a violent thump on the sand, knocking two dragons over. She stormed forward and glared down at the queen’s corpse, quivering with rage.

  Ostrich swallowed and took a step back, dipping her head to signal cautious respect.

  Burn just stood there, breathing heavily.

  After a moment, Ostrich ventured, “Was it you, Your Highness? Are you now our queen?”

  Burn growled, low and deep in her throat. “No,” she snarled. “I didn’t kill her.” Ostrich started to raise her head and Burn snapped, “But it wasn’t Blister either! I just saw her!”

  “Was it … Blaze, then?” someone in the crowd asked.

  There was an awkward pause as everyone tried to imagine the queen’s spacey daughter successfully attacking her. Six-Claws looked around and realized Blaze wasn’t even there. She probably slept right through all this noise. Wearing jeweled earplugs or buried in expensive pillows.

  “It wasn’t any of us,” Blister’s voice said icily from a shadow near the palace wall. She stalked across the sand, flicking her tail menacingly. “Mother wasn’t killed by any of her daughters.”

  She faced Burn across the queen’s body, each of them sizzling with coiled tension. Burn was older and bigger than Blister, with more battle experience and the scars to show for it. But Six-Claws knew that Blister was smarter … and that made him truly unsure who would win in a fight.

  “So …” Singe asked carefully. “If none of you killed her … then, um … who’s our next queen?”

  Blister hissed, dragging one claw through the sand. “I was going to challenge her soon,” she said.

  “So was I,” Burn snapped back.

  Six-Claws wondered if that was true for either of them. As scary as they were, he couldn’t imagine either of them defeating Queen Oasis.

  But clearly someone had. Why would anyone murder the queen, unless it was to get her throne?

  Revenge, his mind whispered. Beyond his sisters, lit by the pale moonlight, Smolder’s eyes were shining. He was nothing but happy to see his mother dead.

  But Six-Claws had been with Smolder when they’d heard the roars. Even if Smolder had wanted to kill his mother for what happened to Palm, he couldn’t have done it tonight.

  “Maybe you two should fight right now,” Scald suggested to his sisters. “Whoever wins gets to be queen. That seems fair, right?”

  Blister shot him an unreadable but unpleasant look.

  “Not exactly fair to Blaze, though,” Singe pointed out, and got his own withering glare from both sisters. “Yeah, all right, I know. You two duke it out.”

  The idea made sense to Six-Claws. A simple fight to the death, the way it had always been, with an obvious winner. The SandWings needed a queen. They should get it over with.

  Years later, Six-Claws would often try to imagine how history might have turned out if the sisters had fought that night. He could never decide if it would have been better — no twenty-year war — or worse — one of these two as queen of the SandWings, unchallenged and unstoppable.

  Burn curled her talons, ready to lunge at her sister.

  “This hardly seems like the time or place,” Blister said calmly, taking a slight step away from Burn. “I mean, priorities, my dear brothers. Surely first we must find out who did this to our poor beloved mother.” She tilted her head at Burn and whispered, “Besides, we don’t have the Eye of Onyx.”

  Not many dragons heard her, but Six-Claws was close enough to catch her words. He didn’t understand them, though. There was an Eye of Onyx in the treasury, but what did that have to do with dueling for the throne?

  “Right,” Burn said, slowly opening her claws again. “Of course. Who killed our mother. That’s what we need to figure out,” she said, raising her voice to address all the gathered dragons. “Admit it now, whoever did this! Don’t make us start gouging out your eyes!”

  A shuffling flutter ran through the crowd as everyone stared at everyone else, searching for a guilty expression or bloody talons.

  Bloody talons, Six-Claws thought. How did the queen die? He looked down at the sand around the body, searching for clues. He noticed that the odd mammal smell was stronger out here. And then he saw for the first time that there was a small spear sticking out of the queen’s eye.

  He crouched, peering closer. It wasn’t a dragon-sized spear; it was only abou
t as long as his foreleg and so thin he could probably snap it between his teeth. Was this what had killed her? This tiny thing?

  He scanned the rest of her body for other wounds and discovered the strangest thing of all.

  Someone had cut off her venomous tail barb.

  “Three moons,” he said. “Who would —”

  “Search the area,” Burn commanded. She seemed to be swelling to twice her normal size, her wings flaring and her voice suddenly ringing like a queen’s. “Whoever did this can’t have gotten far. We will find them and punish them!”

  The SandWings immediately spread out and started shooting flames into all the shadows or poking the dunes with their tails. Their shouts and growls filled the night, and Six-Claws thought he would not want to be the murderer, hiding somewhere nearby. Even anything that wasn’t the murderer, like a desert rat, was liable to get stomped by a crusading dragon tonight.

  He stared at the small spear again.

  Everything started to click into place in his brain.

  That scent …

  The spear was too small for dragons … but there was one other animal that was rumored to use spears.

  An animal notorious for trying to steal treasure from dragons, no matter how often they got eaten in the process.

  “Hey!” Smolder shouted, digging in a sand dune several feet away. “I found something!”

  Burn’s head snapped up. “What is it?” she barked.

  “It’s —” Smolder stopped and looked up, confusion written all over his face. “It’s a scavenger.”

  The next few years passed in an exhausting blur. Six-Claws was one of the dragons who chased down the scavengers that had escaped with the queen’s tail barb and the stolen treasure; he was there when Burn set their dens on fire and burned all the scavengers’ homes to the ground. He helped to hunt through the ashes and then, when they found no treasure, flew back to the palace behind Burn, only to discover that the SandWing treasury had been completely emptied. Four rooms full of gems and gold — all of it gone, vanished into thin air, presumably stolen by the scavengers, although no one could figure out how or where they’d put it.