Dangerous Gift Page 9

  Snowfall lifted the opal to eye level and hissed at it. How could fire not work? “Don’t tell Lynx,” she said to Luna.

  “Uh … sure,” Luna agreed. “You’re welcome.”

  “For what?” Snowfall snapped and stomped away.

  She found a large boulder in a shaded spot near the tree line and perched on it to brood for a while. Her guards fanned out in a discreet circle around her, and one of them brought her a fish to eat, and she even remembered to thank him for it. So at least I did one excellently queenly thing today.

  The other animus-touched things came off easily, no problem. The stealth wristbands and the tiara of strength, off and back on, nothing sinister about them at all.

  Snowfall had always assumed that if something was made by an IceWing animus, it would be something great. Something good and helpful and smart and clever. Like an IceWing! An IceWing animus wouldn’t make a secret evil spell like a NightWing would. Surely. Right?

  The ring was not a big deal, she told herself. It was Lynx’s fault that she was even worrying about it at all. But really, if she thought about it, she felt fine; better than usual, in fact. Probably because she hadn’t had to see Aunt Tundra’s smug face for a whole day.

  Moreover, if there was a secret spell on the ring, it hadn’t given her a terrible illness (yet) or turned her into a different dragon (HA, it could TRY; she was ALWAYS SNOWFALL AND ALWAYS WOULD BE). It hadn’t tricked her into letting strange invader dragons into her kingdom. She was the same as always. Everything was normal.

  Even the lingering sadness from the dream lifted a little as the day went on. She could see Atala from her spot, and the SilkWing didn’t look totally miserable, so that helped. Atala got her wrist cuff burned off, ate a talonful of dates, laughed at a LeafWing when he tried to catch a crab and it tweaked his nose, and took several naps. The SilkWing also spent a while staring out at the ocean. Thinking about the family she left behind, Snowfall guessed. I hope they’re safe.

  No, I don’t! I don’t care at all! She shook herself vigorously. I don’t know them! Why would I care?

  Stupid dream. Or vision. Or whatever.

  Shortly before sunset, Snowfall heard the cracks and snaps of talonsteps in the trees behind her. She turned and spotted the frowny LeafWing pacing between the palms, throwing fallen coconuts into a sack. Another green dragon followed her, this one with pinkish streaks on her wings and horns.

  “We just got here,” said the pink-tinted LeafWing languidly. “Why are you acting like such a frustrated panther already? Wasn’t this the goal?”

  “But we can’t stay, Cobra Lily!” cried the other one. “We can’t just find a nice safe spot to settle down and get comfortable! That’s not the plan! I won’t give up on our whole continent and everyone there!”

  Cobra Lily shrugged, an elegant lift and fall of her wings. “You can’t be that upset about losing Nettle and Belladonna and a few silly SilkWings,” she said. “Seems like an upside to me. No more Nettle annoying us. No more Belladonna telling you what to do.”

  The scowly one fixed her with a particularly ferocious scowl. “Queen Sequoia is back there, plus half the dragons we grew up with. A monster has stolen our home! And by the way, those ‘silly’ SilkWings risked a lot to help us.”

  “Don’t get excited,” Cobra Lily said. “I’m just saying, this place is already significantly nicer than a jungle full of carnivorous plants or a land full of mind-controlled bug dragons. Maybe we could stay here. Make a new home. One queen over both the SilkWings and the LeafWings. I bet most of these dragons wouldn’t mind following a Queen Sundew.”

  “No,” Sundew growled. “Stop saying that. Hazel is our queen.” She half turned and finally spotted Snowfall lying on her boulder. Her tail lashed for a moment, and then she spread her wings and lifted off into the sky.

  That’s interesting, Snowfall thought. Sundew. She is a threat to Hazel’s rule. Even if she doesn’t mean to be, other dragons want her to be.

  Just like the dragons who probably still want Crystal to be queen instead of me. How many of them are there? Are they hiding her? Are they planning something? Gathering an army? Conspiring with NightWings?

  Where IS she?

  Snowfall brooded about this until one of her guards came over to inform her that the strange tribes had decided to stay one more night, before setting out for Sanctuary in the morning. Snowfall could tell that Hazel would have liked to stay longer — the LeafWing queen kept leaning wistfully on the palm trees and gazing up at their swaying leaves. But Moon was bustling around reassuring everyone that Sanctuary would be even better, with more trees and lots of space and food for them.

  Highly suspicious. Possibly some kind of nefarious plan at work, if a NightWing was all excited about it.

  As the sun set, Snowfall dug her sleeping hole with extra vigor, throwing all the excess sand in Lynx’s direction. She was not going to worry about this ridiculous ring. She REFUSED to have another “VISION” of mystery dragons she didn’t know. She was the queen, and she would simply order her brain to have an ordinary night with perfectly ordinary dreams. Yes.

  She curled up, closed her eyes, and dropped almost instantly into another dragon’s scales.

  She is alone in the kitchen, rolling antelope meatballs, trying to keep her claws busy.

  She is trying not to think about Cinnabar, or how she should be with the rest of the Chrysalis, finally trying to change the world.

  She is trying not to hate her misshapen wing.

  “I’m sorry, Tau,” Cinnabar had whispered, clasping her front talons between her own. “We talked about this. You knew if there was fighting, you wouldn’t be able to join us. It would be too dangerous for you.”

  “You mean I couldn’t keep up with you,” Tau had answered ruefully.

  “Think about who we’re fighting, though,” Cinnabar had pressed. “What if you saw Treehopper on the battlefield? All white eyes and zombie brain? What if he attacked you — or me? You’re better off not having to face him like that. You’ll be safe here until we win and come back for you.”

  “You’d better win.” Tau had hugged her, her heart beating fiercely.

  Being left behind was worse than she’d expected, though. Not knowing what was happening. All her friends off fighting a battle without her. Wondering if they really did find an antidote to the mind control.

  Is Treehopper finally free of Queen Wasp?

  Or is he killing SilkWings right now, dead-eyed and soulless?

  She shivers. How will he ever forgive himself if Wasp forces him to hurt Tau’s friends?

  There hasn’t been any sign of the HiveWings since every single one of them suddenly froze, pivoted to the nearest window, and flew away north. It’s peaceful with all of Jewel Hive nearly empty, but also unsettling.

  “Tau!”

  Right — not every HiveWing.

  Lady Scarab marches into the kitchen and eyes the meatballs so intently she practically sticks her nose into one of them. “What is this?” she demands. “What herbs are you using? Why does it smell like that?”

  “Antelope meatballs,” Tau says patiently.

  “I have the only good recipe for antelope meatballs,” Lady Scarab announces. “If you didn’t put chives in it, these won’t be worth eating.”

  “I did put chives in it,” Tau says.

  “Probably too many,” Lady Scarab sniffs.

  Something crashes in the hall behind them and they both turn toward the sound of galloping talonsteps. Lady Jewel bursts into the kitchen, and the sight of her face sends Tau straight into full-blown panic.

  “Cinnabar was just here,” Jewel gasps. “With a message — the HiveWings won. They’re burning the Poison Jungle, and when they’re done, they’ll come here, and now they can mind-control SilkWings as well.”

  “What?” Tau clutches the counter, her talons slippery with grease. She can’t process any piece of that information, let alone all of it. She latches on to the first thing. “Cinnabar i
s here? Is she all right?”

  “She only had time to give me the message,” Jewel says. “They have to get to the other Hives as fast as they can, to warn the rest of the SilkWings. I told her we’d get everyone here to safety.” She glances around the room wildly, as though she’s considering trying to fit every SilkWing in the Hive into one of her potato barrels.

  “But how?” Tau asks. “Where can we go?” Her heart feels like it’s squeezing inward, shrinking into a nest of fear and spikes. They weren’t supposed to lose. It wasn’t supposed to get worse.

  “Well, this is a fine mess,” Lady Scarab hisses. “NOW who’s going to take down my dreadful niece? Certainly would be nice if I had a daughter willing to fight for the throne that should actually be ours.”

  “Not NOW, Mother,” Jewel says. “Cinnabar said to bring everyone to Lake Scorpion. There’s somewhere we can go from there, she said, but we have to all go together.” She presses her claws to her temples for a moment. “We need messengers to check every level of the Hive. Someone to go to the webs. Dragons to carry the cocoons of any SilkWings in Metamorphosis right now, others to carry all the SilkWing and HiveWing eggs in the Hatcheries.”

  “No,” Scarab says. “Not the HiveWing eggs, Jewel.”

  “We can’t leave them behind!” Jewel protests. “All those tiny dragonets —”

  “They’re already infected,” Scarab says bluntly. “As soon as they hatch, Wasp will be able to see through their eyes, and then she’ll find us. You can’t bring them along, or you doom everyone else.”

  Jewel curls her talons and takes a deep breath. Tau knows she is thinking of her own children, who are out of reach now, summoned along with everyone else. Jewel had thought they were free of the mind control until they flew away with all the other HiveWings.

  Lady Scarab must guess Jewel’s thoughts, too, because she says, with unaccustomed gentleness, “I miss them, too. But it’s better that we know, at least. She could have used them against us if she’d left them here.”

  “She still can,” Jewel says quietly.

  “Only if she can find you to threaten you,” Scarab points out. “They’ll be safer if you vanish.”

  Jewel doesn’t answer, but her tail lashes across the floor, knocking over a stack of lemons.

  “Maybe we can bring some of the HiveWing eggs,” Tau suggests. “The ones who have only been stabbed once — remember, Cricket said that Wasp has to inject each egg twice to be able to control them.”

  “That was her theory,” Scarab growls. “She could be wrong. It’s too risky.”

  “But if we can save some of them, we have to,” Jewel says. “I’ll think about it — in the meanwhile, you two go bring as many SilkWings here as you can, and then we’ll split into teams.” She hurries out of the kitchen again, murmuring lists of tasks to herself.

  Tau doesn’t stop to hear any more of Scarab’s grim warnings. She runs out of the kitchen, through Jewel’s mansion, her talons skidding on the floor. She’ll start with the other servants and the prisoners in Jewel’s dungeon. How many SilkWings are there in the whole Hive? Will they all listen to her, or to Lady Jewel? How fast can they escape?

  Only as fast as our slowest dragons — which includes me.

  The terror drives her onward, calling dragon after dragon to the ballroom. She can’t get the images out of her head: images of her friends with white eyes like the mind-controlled HiveWings, images of Treehopper slicing ruthlessly through any SilkWing who tries to stop him, images of Queen Wasp burning the jungle, killing all the LeafWings, laughing her merciless laugh.

  But Cinnabar got away from her. So it’s possible, if we can move fast enough.

  We have to escape. We have to. Or none of us will ever be free again.

  * * *

  Snowfall woke up EXTREMELY grumpy.

  That is, first she woke up in a state of heart-pounding panic, confused and terrified about how she was suddenly asleep on a beach when she should be gathering dragons to escape Jewel Hive. But as her heart rate gradually slowed to normal and she remembered who she actually was, her natural grumpiness returned to the power of ten.

  What. The Moons. Was THAT.

  She glanced down and saw that her claws were shaking. She shoved them as far into the sand as she could until they stopped.

  “I said no more visions!” she hissed at the ring under her breath. And this time she couldn’t even pretend she’d just happened to dream about someone she’d seen. She’d never laid eyes on Tau in her life and probably never would. So either she’d conjured an entire imaginary dragon (with a forbidden love and revolutionary friends and an entire Hive and about a MILLION more dragons to worry about!) or the stupid magic had dragged her brain all the way across the ocean to torture her with scary things she could do nothing about.

  WHAT IS THE POINT OF THIS?!

  Snowfall heard someone floundering through the sand toward her. She lifted her head out of her hole and of course it was Lynx, looking all kinds of wound up.

  “I have a theory!” Lynx cried as soon as she spotted Snowfall’s face. No “good morning” or “hello, Your Majesty” or “sorry for being a judgmental walrus yesterday.”

  Snowfall shook out her wings irritably. “Marvelous,” she said. “Let me guess, it involves me doing something wrong.”

  “You woke me up to ask me about weird dreams yesterday,” Lynx said, pointing at her. “Because you had a weird dream. And that ring you can’t get off is called the gift of vision, isn’t it? That’s why you thought it was about eyesight. But it’s not! I think it’s giving you weird dreams! Because they’re not dreams! They’re visions. Get it? See what I mean? Gift of vision?”

  “Great Ice Spirits, stop talking already,” Snowfall growled. “I figured that out about a hundred years ago. But even if that’s the case, it does not explain why the ring is stuck on my claw. I still think it’s broken.”

  “But it is doing something!” Lynx flicked her tail, and now her expression was definitely veering toward excited. “Maybe it’s important! Did you have another vision last night? What was it about?”

  “I thought you didn’t trust animus magic and wearing this was a terrible idea,” Snowfall said accusingly.

  “I’m still right about that,” Lynx said, “but as long as you’re stuck with it, we should figure out what it’s trying to tell us.”

  “It’s not trying to tell me anything!” Snowfall protested. “It’s a ring! An inanimate object! With no agenda or feelings! Except maybe smugness. You’re very smug,” she snapped at the opal.

  “Arrgh, Snowfall, tell me what you saw!” Lynx lashed her tail, sending up gusts of sand. “Something happening back in the Ice Kingdom? Something that’s going to happen?”

  “No!” Snowfall barked. “Nothing useful! Nothing about my tribe or my problems! Nothing important at all! If this is stupid MAGIC, then it’s REALLY STUPID magic! Why would I, queen of the IceWings, need to know about all the inner emotions of a bunch of rainbow dragons from a completely irrelevant continent that I’ll never see?”

  “Inner emotions?” Lynx asked. “Like — you could feel what the SilkWings were feeling?”

  “First I was one of those sad-snouts,” Snowfall said, pointing up the beach. “Her name is Atala. Total tragedy face. And then last night I was some RANDOM dragon named Tau who is stuck back over there and freaking out. Why would I need to see that? It’s not like I can do anything to help her!”

  Not that she would have, even if she could! She wasn’t going to invite MORE invasive, strange-looking dragons here!

  “Hmmmm,” Lynx said. “Maybe you can? Somehow? Maybe we just need to lay out everything you learned from your visions and figure out what to do about them.”

  “That’s not a gift, that’s homework!” Snowfall snapped. “I’ve had quite enough of that, thank you! I’m queen now; other dragons should have to do the things I don’t want to do!”

  “So tell me about it,” Lynx said eagerly. “And everything
about the first one, before you forget it. And I’ll figure out what they mean.”

  Snowfall pointed one claw at her. “No. I am going to ignore this nonsense. Are these slow-slug dragons ready to fly to Sanctuary yet?”

  Lynx looked as if she wanted to keep arguing, but she stayed quiet as she followed Snowfall up the beach to investigate.

  And no, of course nobody was ready to go. Of course it took the foreign tribes the entire morning to get organized. And then they decided to leave half the dragons behind so the stronger ones could go ahead and make sure there was a place for everyone. So then they had to resettle the ones they were leaving behind, and then they decided to take a break to eat something. By the time their wings finally lifted into the sky, the sun was high above them.

  Snowfall was stalking back to summon the rest of her guards when she heard someone say Queen Thorn’s name. Her ears pricked, and she turned to see Moon talking to the SandWing who wasn’t Jerboa.

  “I’ll fly ahead and visit Thorn on the way,” he said. “You know, in case she wants to know why there’s a flood of unusual-looking dragons flying over her kingdom. Seems like something she might want a heads-up about.”

  “Tell her where they’re going,” Moon suggested. “Sanctuary is technically on the border of SandWing and SkyWing territory, so she should know that they’re there.”

  Ha, Snowfall thought to herself, pacing forward again. Let’s see how SHE likes it! If Thorn lets all these dragons flap around over her desert and settle on her border, maybe she isn’t as strong a queen as everyone thinks!

  She wondered how Queen Ruby would feel about these new dragons living on the edge of SkyWing territory. Sanctuary was supposed to be a small enclave where dragons who couldn’t go home to their own kingdoms could live. Dragons like Snowfall’s cousin Winter, who’d been banished, or the remaining Talons of Peace who wanted to stay with one another more than they wanted to return to their tribes. Snowfall didn’t think Ruby or Thorn had ever imagined it as a refuge for hundreds of strange dragons when they agreed to let the Talons of Peace build it.