Dangerous Gift Page 7

  “Crossing the ocean isn’t the hard part, unfortunately,” Sundew said.

  Luna’s eyes drifted to Cricket, standing behind the Leaf-Wings and holding Bumblebee. She beckoned the yellow-and-black dragon forward and hugged her, too. “Come tell me all about it,” she said, and the five of them went up the beach into the hut.

  Snowfall had only been half listening. Her focus was on Jerboa, and if she could freeze dragons with her eyeballs, the animus SandWing would have turned to ice all the way to her bones. The force of the rage in her glare was so strong, she couldn’t believe how long it took Jerboa to finally turn and meet her eyes. And then Jerboa didn’t even look guilty! She looked … annoyed? Tired? SOMETHING AGGRAVATING!

  Snowfall stormed up to her. The NightWing and the other SandWing had gone down to the water to help the SeaWings drag the raft ashore, with lots of yelps and chirps and gleeful reunion noises. There was a small oasis of silence around Jerboa and her little patch of sand.

  “What are you doing here?” Snowfall growled at her.

  Jerboa arched one eyebrow. “I live here. What are you doing here?”

  “Are you working with these dragons?” Snowfall demanded. “Did you give them some magic to help them invade my kingdom?”

  Jerboa gave her a withering look. “As I am quite sure I have mentioned before,” she said, “no one wants to invade your kingdom.”

  “Wrong,” Snowfall snapped. “These dragons tried to, and I have driven them out. BY MYSELF, I might add, without any help from you.”

  “See,” Jerboa said flatly. “I knew you could do it. You just had to believe in yourself. Rah rah.”

  “Why are you helping a NightWing instead of me?” Snowfall asked in a low hiss.

  “I’m not helping anyone,” Jerboa said. “I’ve fulfilled my purpose. All I did here is provide some shelter and make an introduction, although providing shelter to three dragons is quite different from sharing my cove with two entire tribes.”

  She wrinkled her snout slightly as she looked around at the chaos of dragons engulfing her beach. Tails and talons were churning up the sand. Several dragons were wading in the shallows of the cove, catching fish and crabs and clouding the water with silt. Others had collapsed all along the beach, wings flung out to either side, soaking up the sun. The relieved expressions were back on most of their faces, and some of the SilkWings were already gathering coconuts to eat and debating placidly about how to open them.

  The NightWing came floundering back up the beach and Snowfall finally recognized her. It was that interfering little one with the visions, the one Winter liked so much. Moonface, or something like that. The one who had been Darkstalker’s very best friend when he first came out of the mountain.

  According to Winter, she’d also been instrumental in stopping Darkstalker, but given the lack of actual evidence (or a body, specifically; Snowfall would have liked a specifically clearly dead body to examine and yell at and stomp on), Snowfall couldn’t help but still find her very suspicious.

  This was a particularly bad NightWing to find with her animus.

  “Hello,” Moonface said breathlessly. “You’re Queen Snowfall, aren’t you?”

  “You know perfectly well that I am,” Snowfall said coldly. “Mind reader.”

  The black dragon had the grace to look a little abashed. “It’s Moon, actually,” she said. “Just Moon, not Moonface.”

  Snowfall wished one of the IceWing animus gifts had been an invulnerability to NightWing powers. That would have been EXTREMELY useful. WHY didn’t anyone ever think of that?

  Because they weren’t our mortal enemies until they stole Arctic, she remembered. And after that, there were no more animus gifts.

  Moon winced and touched her temples. “This is a lot of noisy dragons,” she said to Jerboa.

  “It certainly is,” Jerboa said, eyeing a pair of LeafWing dragonets as they tumbled and wrestled along the beach with squeals of joy. “Is this what your vision showed you?”

  “Sort of,” Moon said. “But it’s only the beginning, I think.”

  “Only the beginning?” Jerboa looked nearly as annoyed with Moon as she was with Snowfall. “Are there a lot more coming? Here? To this beach in particular?”

  “No … wait, actually; I don’t know,” Moon said.

  “They can stay for now,” Jerboa said with a sigh. “Until they’re ready to move on, which had better be soon. But where do you expect them to end up?”

  “I know!” cried the other SandWing, jumping over the dunes toward them in little flying-hopping leaps. “I have an idea! Moon, we can take them to Sanctuary!”

  “Yes, of course,” the NightWing said, her whole face relaxing. “That’s perfect. They’ll be safe there.”

  “That’s where Winter is, right?” Lynx asked.

  Moon gave her a curious look. “Have we met?”

  “I’m Lynx,” the IceWing offered. “A friend of Winter’s. Buuuuut an even more loyal subject to my excellent one true queen Snowfall right here, of course,” she added quickly.

  Snowfall flicked sand in her face with her tail and Lynx sneezed.

  “Do you want to come with us? To Sanctuary?” Moon asked. “I’m sure Winter would be happy to see you, and we could use a few more strong wings to help these dragons get there.”

  Lynx gave Snowfall a hopeful look.

  “We can’t sit here for days and days,” Snowfall pointed out.

  “It won’t be that long,” Moon said, catching the look on Jerboa’s face. “Maybe one day to rest and we leave the day after tomorrow? Or tomorrow, maybe tomorrow.”

  Night was falling swiftly around them, but for once, Snowfall could watch the stars come out without a sense of suffocating dread. For once, her scales weren’t crawling with the knowledge that Tundra was tip-tapping toward her on cold, judgmental claws. The wall was far, far away, and Snowfall did not have to worry about it for one blissful night.

  Which could be two nights. Maybe three … maybe even four, if Sanctuary required inspecting or anything like that.

  The wall wasn’t going anywhere. Snowfall would face it again when she returned to the ice palace. There was no need to rush back. Queen Glacier had often gone on diplomatic trips or battle missions for days, and the kingdom didn’t collapse.

  Maybe that was why she’d gone away so often, come to think of it.

  “Fine,” Snowfall said to Lynx. “We’ll go to Sanctuary. But only so I can make sure my weird scavenger-obsessed cousin isn’t up to anything with all his new other-tribe friends.” Snowfall shot a glare at Moon, just to clarify exactly who she meant.

  The tribes settled down to sleep early. The SilkWings, it turned out, could produce some kind of strange silvery stuff from their wrists, and several of them made little hammocks out of it to hang from the trees, then slept in them. It was very weird and didn’t seem like a normal dragon ability to Snowfall at all.

  Snowfall ordered the other IceWings to choose their own section of beach, some ways off from the other tribes, but still within sight. She set a rotating guard schedule and gave them instructions to keep an eye out for the NightWing especially.

  It was mercifully cooler after the sun went down, but still a little too warm for Snowfall’s comfort. She stabbed her claws into the sand, digging down and down until she found a cold layer of sand far below the sun-warmed layers on top. This was better. It was no slab of ice, but it would cool her off enough to sleep.

  She curled into the hole and felt her weapons jab her in the side. The animus-touched wristbands weighed down her talons, and the tiara was quite uncomfortable to sleep in. But she wasn’t about to take any of it off, of course. She might need those knives or throwing stars or other knives or magic strength if someone attacked her in the middle of the night. She was surrounded by enemies here, after all. (Well, technically she was surrounded by ten IceWing soldiers, and THEN a bunch of enemies. Still.)

  But she could take off the gift of vision, at least, since the stupid t
hing didn’t work at all.

  She tugged on the opal ring to slide it off her claw.

  It didn’t move.

  Which was odd. Hadn’t it felt loose when she first put it on?

  Snowfall frowned at it. The opal caught the starlight and twinkled cheerfully at her.

  She tugged on it again. It was definitely stuck.

  Weird and annoying.

  With a sigh, she gave up. She was too tired for a wrestling match with an accessory tonight. Tomorrow she’d rub palm oil all over it or something, and then it would slide off easily. Stupid useless frustrating stupid thing.

  She tucked her nose under her tail, and for the first time in months, she fell asleep within moments.

  She is flying, although her wings feel so heavy, she thinks they might drag her down into the ocean any moment. She has been flying for days and days, and below her there is nothing but treacherous water in every direction, restlessly waiting to swallow her up.

  Each island is so far away, and some of them are so tiny it’s a miracle anyone spotted them at all. There was one island that was big enough she’d hoped it was the Distant Kingdoms — but it was empty, and the map said it was only halfway to the other continent.

  Every morning she lifts into the sky on a new wave of terror, afraid that this will be the day they run out of islands and everyone will drown.

  They can’t turn back. Nobody can. There’s only one map. She wouldn’t know how to follow the chain of islands all the way back home on her own. And what’s behind them is even worse than this … the burning jungle, the white-eyed dragons, the mind control you can catch as easily as breathing in the wrong smoke, someone said. Her wings shiver with terror.

  She thought she was joining an army. She’d thought the time for rebellion had finally come — that it was time to be brave and heroic! Io said the Chrysalis was going to rise up, join the LeafWings, and fight Queen Wasp for freedom and a better future.

  But they never had a chance.

  “Aren’t we going to fight them?” she’d asked.

  No. By the time they reached the Poison Jungle, everything had changed. Queen Wasp could control SilkWings and LeafWings now. They’d lost before lifting even a single claw.

  All they could do was run.

  She couldn’t even stop to get her little brother or her placid, perpetually confused grandparents. She’d left them in Yellowjacket Hive, thinking she’d be home within a day or two to free them with a triumphant LeafWing army. She didn’t even say good-bye.

  Where are they now? Have their minds been taken by the HiveWing queen?

  Are they even less free now than they’d been before?

  And will she ever see them again?

  Her tears blur the shapes of the dragons around her before they’re swept away by the cold wind.

  “Two more days until we reach the Distant Kingdoms,” says a LeafWing flying beside her, his voice kind. Gentle LeafWings — she’d had no idea such a thing had ever existed, before all this. “We’re almost there. Then we can rest and be safe.”

  Safety. Rest. Those both sound impossible. All she wants is to lie down on solid ground and feel, for even a moment, that she doesn’t have to be completely terrified.

  She rubs her face dry and flies on.

  * * *

  Snowfall jolted awake, her heart pounding. Her wings flared up and flung sand in all directions.

  Her wings, her own wings. White and curved and only two of them, as there were supposed to be. She touched her claws to her skull: nothing strange growing out of her head. She checked her wings again, but they definitely hadn’t turned peach-orange with sapphire spots during the night.

  She was on a beach. A beach with waves pounding nearby, everything pale and pearly gray in the early morning light. Dragons slept all around her.

  I’m Queen Snowfall, she reassured herself. “I AM Queen Snowfall,” she said out loud, because the universe had a whole skeptical vibe about it that was very aggravating.

  Lynx lifted her head from a nearby sandpile, squinting blearily. “Who said you weren’t?” she mumbled. “I’m-a kill-em, sure yes. Later-ish. Now’s too early, no stabbing before breakfast.” Her voice rambled off into nonsense as she slid back down to sleep.

  Snowfall considered making her wake up, which was a thing a queen could certainly do, except then the queen would have to explain that she’d been freaked out by a bad dream and just wanted company, which didn’t seem very regal at all, really.

  It wasn’t so much the content of the dream, although it had been unsettling. But she’d spent the whole day with that nervous, forlorn tribe of meek rainbow dragons. It wasn’t all that weird that she might dream about their situation.

  The freaky part was that she’d really felt like she was someone else. In the dream, she’d completely been one of those homeless SilkWings, completely inside another dragon. Not even a thought of the Ice Kingdom. No hint of Snowfall left at all.

  She did NOT LIKE THAT, NO SIR.

  And now there were all these lingering FEELINGS. The terror skittering along her scales was one thing; she was used to worrying about dangerous things out there. Not these specific dangerous things, but she could slide that all into one compartment.

  It was the boring exhausting SADNESS she didn’t like. How could she be feeling this depressed about a continent and a few dragons she’d never seen? Dragons who didn’t exist, mind you, because her brain had conjured them out of nothing!

  Snap out of it. I’m fine. It’s just these stupid pathetic dragons messing with my head.

  She glared balefully up the beach at the slumbering forms around Jerboa’s hut. Wait, what if that was LITERALLY true? Maybe this was some kind of sinister dragon magic from across the sea! Maybe they’d given her a sappy nightmare to trick her into feeling sorry for them!

  Which was an unimpressive bit of magic, if that was all they could do. If she had the power to give dragons specific dreams, she’d make them all dream about how strong and amazing she was, so they’d be totally in awe of her and do everything she said and never have any doubts about her ever.

  Snowfall leaned over and poked Lynx in the shoulder. “Hey,” she said. “Lynx. Lynx. LYNX. Wake up, I have an important question! Did you have any weird dreams?”

  “Arrrrrgrmph,” Lynx said in a muffled voice, trying to roll away from Snowfall’s claw. “Go away.”

  “You can’t tell your queen to go away,” Snowfall pointed out. “Your queen demands that you answer her question! It’s a royal command!”

  “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?” Lynx protested without opening her eyes.

  “Did you have any weird dreams last night?” Snowfall said impatiently.

  “No,” Lynx mumbled. “Slept great. Would still be sleeping great if it were up to me. Unless I’m dreaming that my queen is waking me up at a horrifying hour to ask about my dreams, in which case, yes, this one is a bit weird.”

  “You are a useless minion,” Snowfall observed.

  “Frieeeeeend,” Lynx enunciated clearly before edging away and burying herself farther into the sand. Her voice came sleepily over the dune. “The word you’re looking for is friend.”

  “Hrmph.” Snowfall stabbed a hole in the beach and shoved a passing crab into it. Come to think of it … she’d slept well, too. Really, truly slept. Despite the dream, she felt rested for the first time in forever.

  OK, so. Shake it off. It was just a dream. Time to get these dragons to Sanctuary and make them some other queen’s problem so I can go home.

  Two of her guards jumped to their feet and followed her as she marched up the beach. Most of the Pantalan dragons were still asleep, but the one who’d been here before the rest, waiting with Jerboa, was gathering wood into a pile, and a few others were helping her.

  Snowfall slowed down as she approached, her eyes drifting over the strangers. She knew her brain had simply jumbled together a bunch of ideas from her subconscious, but —

  She felt her heart do a startled li
ttle spasm in her chest.

  There: asleep with her back pressed against one of the green dragons. Peach-orange scales, sapphire-blue spots. And the LeafWing beside her … wasn’t he the one who’d spoken to her in the sky?

  Except I MADE THAT UP. In my head! In a random dream!

  She must have seen the two dragons flying together yesterday, even if she hadn’t thought about it consciously. Her subconscious brain probably saw them being friendly and stuffed that image into a box labeled GROSS! INTERTRIBE FLIRTING! NOT OK! DREAM ABOUT THIS LATER!

  And if it did turn out that the SilkWing’s name was Atala, that was also definitely a coincidence with a reasonable explanation and so she did not at all need to find that out.

  Snowfall sat down and watched the dragons building the fire instead. As far as she’d seen yesterday, neither SilkWings nor LeafWings could breathe fire, so she expected the NightWing or one of the SandWings to emerge and light it for them.

  But once the woodpile was high enough, the first SilkWing stepped forward and held out her front talons. Their peculiar dragon silk started spiraling out from her wrists … except …

  Snowfall shot to her feet and paced closer.

  This dragon’s silk was the color of gold, and where it touched the wood, licks of flame growled to life.

  Whoa.

  “What is that?” Snowfall demanded of the nearest SilkWing. He was smaller than her, all pale gray and brown with hints of purple. He blinked, yawned, stretched, yawned again, and finally about three hundred years later answered her question.

  “Oh,” he said. “Right. Luna’s a flamesilk.”

  He started to yawn again and Snowfall was tempted to throw a lobster at his face. “That means nothing to me,” she snapped. “Use MORE WORDS that CONVEY ACTUAL INFORMATION, if you please.”

  “Um,” he said, swallowing his yawn nervously. “Like, her silk can be fire? If she wants it to be?”

  Snowfall narrowed her eyes at him. “Can you all do that?”

  “No, no, no,” he said. He shook his head and flicked his tail toward Luna. “Flamesilks are very rare. That’s why she ran away, you know, before any of us, because Queen Wasp keeps them all trapped and she escaped and —”