The healers’ pavilion near the RainWing village was large, quiet, and sunlit, with curtains of green vines shielding the interior from curious onlookers. And there were plenty of curious dragons — ones Winter could see and ones he could only hear, murmuring and twittering like a council of invisible birds in the trees. The rainforest was starting to give him the suffocating, spine-crawling feeling that he was always being watched.
Only RainWings were allowed to carry the unconscious prisoner. Glory ordered all the NightWings to stay away and sent Deathbringer to make sure none of them came looking for her. She also didn’t object when Winter pushed his way into the pavilion and stood next to his sister, glowering around defiantly.
“I’m staying right here,” he said.
“Understood,” Glory said with a nod. She turned to survey the others as they edged through the curtain and stood back against the wall, out of the way.
“Your Majesty — how did you find us?” Moon asked hesitantly.
Glory glanced at Kinkajou, her scales shifting to starbursts of royal purple against deep blue.
“I left her a trail to follow,” Kinkajou admitted, looking guilty. “Sorry, Moon — but she’s our queen. I wanted her there in case we really did find Icicle.”
Moon nodded thoughtfully, looking back at the sleeping IceWing. “I guess it’s lucky you did,” she said.
Winter wanted to disagree, but he remembered the desperate rage on Icicle’s face. She had been seconds away from killing Kinkajou. And even though Kinkajou was just a RainWing, he had to admit (only to himself) that he didn’t want her dead.
Besides, whatever she has planned for my sister now, Queen Glory would have been much less merciful if Icicle had killed her friend.
So it was lucky for Icicle, too, that Glory had found them right then.
A pair of sky-blue RainWings was moving quietly around Icicle, cleaning her wounds. Another one, pale pink, stood by her head with a blowgun and darts at the ready in case she woke up.
Icicle’s chest rose and fell in long peaceful movements, and her face was as still as Winter had ever seen it. The tortured expression was gone, for now. He hoped she would get a few hours of real rest before Scarlet came hunting through her dreams.
“It’s odd,” one of the RainWing healers murmured to the other. “Look how much this scratch has bled, Bullfrog.”
“She wasn’t letting herself sleep,” Kinkajou told them. “She hasn’t slept in four or five days.”
The healers both made alarmed clicking noises with their tongues and bent over Icicle again, inspecting her more closely. “Why would any dragon do that to herself?” said the one named Bullfrog. “It’s worse than refusing to eat. Another day of it and she’d probably be dead. At least she’ll be able to heal now that she has to sleep.”
“Going even twelve hours without sleep is one of my nightmares,” said the other.
“Remember that RainWing a few years ago who couldn’t sleep? That was the saddest case I ever saw.” Bullfrog shook his head and his tail turned a glum shade of gray.
“A RainWing who can’t sleep?” Glory echoed. “Isn’t that kind of like a SeaWing who can’t swim?”
“It was worse than that,” said the pink dragon. “He couldn’t change his scales either.”
“Because he couldn’t sleep,” said Bullfrog. “We figured out he had a snout deformity that kept him from sleeping for more than an hour at a time. But there was no way to fix it. It was awful.”
“He was awful,” said the pink dragon. “Sometimes I would wake up from my suntime nap and he’d just be standing there staring at me. And he couldn’t camouflage himself, and you could never tell what he was feeling by looking at his scales.”
“Brrrrrrrrgh,” said the other healer, shuddering from talons to tail.
“It’s like he wasn’t even a RainWing at all,” said Bullfrog. “He was a lot grumpier than a real RainWing, too.”
“So what color was he, if he couldn’t change?” Qibli asked curiously.
“Kind of an ordinary lime green all over,” Bullfrog answered. He held out one talon and shifted the scales along his arm to demonstrate. “Very boring.”
“And unattractive,” agreed the second healer. She gathered the damp leaves stained with Icicle’s blood and bustled off.
“That’s our cautionary tale of what happens when you don’t sleep,” said the pink dragon. “Ahem. Your Majesty.”
“I do sleep,” Glory protested. “Maybe not as much as other RainWings, but I’ve been doing suntime every day, no matter how busy I am. So quit your scolding, Jambu.”
“I’m just saying.” Jambu resettled his wings, looking pleased with himself.
“What are you planning to do with my sister?” Winter asked Glory. “I can take her back to the Ice Kingdom. I promise Queen Glacier will see that she’s punished.”
Glory circled Icicle’s bed, studying the sleeping dragon. “She’s too dangerous,” said the queen with a flick of her tail. “She killed one of my subjects —”
“On the way to killing you,” Kinkajou interrupted to point out.
Glory waved this away with one talon. “I can’t let her just fly out of here,” she said to Winter. “I need to be a true queen to the NightWings, and that means letting them see justice. But I also don’t want to start a war with the IceWings, and I believe a queen should have a say in what happens to her subjects. So I’ll send for Queen Glacier, and together we can decide what happens to Icicle.”
That was more fair than Winter could have hoped for, and yet it made his stomach twist in a painful, anxious way to think of his queen coming here to judge him and his sister. The rankings, he thought, and, What will Mother and Father think?
I need to find Hailstorm before she arrives, he thought. If I can free him, Queen Glacier will understand why Icicle did what she did.
“In the meanwhile” — Glory sighed — “we’ll have to keep her tranquilized so she doesn’t try to escape or hurt someone else.”
“Wait, what?” Winter rose to his feet and got his wings caught in a woven-leaf hammock that was hanging from the ceiling. He wrestled it off with a growl of frustration. “I need to talk to her.”
“And I need a decent prison,” Glory said, snapping her tail back and forth. “The RainWings don’t have anything. Where am I supposed to put misbehaving dragons?” She turned to an older RainWing who was sitting in the corner, watching with stately composure. “Has no RainWing in history ever required punishing?”
“We don’t imprison, we banish,” said the older dragon with an elegant shrug. “What could be worse than being thrown out of the rainforest?”
“You see what I’m dealing with,” Glory said to Winter. “I have one prisoner right now — a NightWing — and we basically had to stick him in a quicksand pit. Every few hours his guards haul him out just enough so he doesn’t die, and then he starts sinking again.”
“Yuck,” said Kinkajou. “But he deserves it, actually.”
“And there are two others I should deal with, but Queen Thorn has agreed to keep them in her SandWing prison instead, until I decide what to do with them.” Glory’s sloth poked its head out from behind the queen’s shoulder and started climbing slowly up her neck. “I’ll figure out something else eventually,” Glory said. “But I’m guessing Queen Glacier wouldn’t appreciate it if I stuck one of her dragons in quicksand, so I’m afraid Icicle has to stay asleep for now.”
“Your Majesty,” said a peach-and-plum-colored dragon, poking her head through the curtain. “Deathbringer would like a word.”
“Excuse me,” Glory said to Winter with a small bow. The older dragon followed her out, leaving Jambu on guard and Bullfrog still gently cleaning Icicle’s scales. Winter inspected Icicle’s face with concern. A small furrow had appeared between her eyes — was she speaking with Scarlet at that very moment?
He watched her for a long minute, but she didn’t move or speak or give any other sign of what her dreams were about.
Finally he turned and stalked to the wall where Moon and Kinkajou were sitting together, their tails entwined. Qibli was pacing around the healers’ pavilion, poking his nose around curtains to see the other patients, sniffing piles of medicinal leaves, and scaring clouds of small yellow butterflies out of the rafters.
“Now what am I supposed to do?” Winter hissed at him. “It was your bright idea to come here. But I’m no closer to finding Hailstorm and it’s my fault my sister’s been caught by a bunch of RainWings.”
“We are closer to finding Hailstorm,” Kinkajou objected. “We’ve found the only dragon who’s spoken to Scarlet and knows the whole story.”
“And she’s fast asleep,” Winter said. “Which does me any good how?”
Qibli stopped next to Moon, brushing her wings with his. Winter’s claws twitched and he clenched his jaw.
The other RainWings weren’t paying any attention to them, but Qibli lowered his voice anyway. “Didn’t you say you overheard Icicle and Scarlet conspiring?” he asked Moon. “Does that mean you can get into dreams, too?”
A shock like lightning ran through Winter’s veins. “Is that true?” he demanded. “Can you listen in when Scarlet finds her?”
“I will try,” Moon said, leaning a little closer to Kinkajou. “I am trying. It’s all darkness in Icicle’s mind right now — she’s too deep in sleep for dreams.”
Three moons, Winter realized. If Moon hears their conversation, she’ll know what I told Icicle. She’ll probably have Glory arrest me, too. I’ll have to be ready to fly the moment she tells me what I need to know about Scarlet.
“So we wait,” Kinkajou said. “For Scarlet to come.”
* * *
It seemed as if a long time passed, as the shadows slowly lengthened and night came creeping into the pavilion. Winter arranged himself in the IceWing guarding stance, but after a while all his training failed and he fell asleep.
Moon jolted him awake by touching one of her talons to his.
“She’s here,” she whispered. “She’s in Icicle’s mind. Shhhh.”
The pavilion was dimly lit by a few beams of moonlight and several jars hanging from the ceiling that appeared to be full of fireflies. Qibli and Kinkajou slept peacefully, curled next to each other on the floor. Winter blinked into the shadows and saw that Bullfrog was still in the pavilion, asleep in a hammock next to a snoring RainWing patient. Jambu had been replaced by another RainWing, who was watching Icicle, her blowgun at the ready.
He stepped quietly over to Icicle’s bed and saw that his sister was sleeping very differently now. All her muscles were tensed as if she wanted to run but couldn’t, and her claws were twitching violently.
“Do you think she’s about to wake up?” the RainWing guard asked Winter. “She just had another dart an hour ago, so she shouldn’t, but I’ve never seen anyone fight sleep like that. She looks like she’s eaten some kind of toxic fern.”
“I don’t think she’ll wake up,” Winter answered. He meant it, but he was still surprised when the RainWing nodded and sat back. Why would she trust the prisoner’s brother to tell her the truth? RainWings really had no sense at all.
“Winter,” Moon whispered, his name in her voice like a spell that ran warmth through his bones. He hurried back over to her. “I need paper,” she said, grabbing one of his talons without opening her eyes. “And something to write with. Quickly.”
Winter searched all the corners and boxes and niches. He even checked under all the beds. He ransacked the entire pavilion and didn’t find a single scroll.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispered to Moon, hurrying past her to the outer curtain. She just nodded, her brow wrinkled with pain. He paused for a second, watching her where she crouched in the moonlight. Did it hurt, listening to other dragons’ dreams? Or was it particularly bad listening to Scarlet and Icicle?
He pushed through the vine curtain and stared out at a very dark rainforest. In the Ice Kingdom it was rare to find this kind of darkness; the gift of light had been passed along to every inhabited part of the kingdom, and there were moon globes everywhere. His home also had so much open space, and the three moons always glittered on everything — the snow, the ice palace, the frozen lakes, the glaciers.
He wished he had a moon globe. He wasn’t used to flying into pitch-black like this, especially when he couldn’t tell where any of the RainWings were. He could hear some of them snoring, amid the nighttime rainforest cacophony, but he couldn’t actually see any other dragons, even in the spots where moonlight could reach.
He thought of Hailstorm trapped in some kind of secret SkyWing prison, probably in complete darkness for the last two years.
“Wait,” a voice called softly behind him. Kinkajou pushed through the curtain and stood next to him. “You stay here,” she said. “I’ll get Moon some paper. I know where to go — the new RainWing school is close by.”
“I should come with you,” he said.
“No, thanks.” Kinkajou nudged him out of her way. “You’d probably wake the whole village, thrashing and flailing around. Stay and make sure Moon is all right.”
She flashed away, vanishing quickly into the dark. And, he had to admit, more or less soundlessly. He wondered if RainWings had better night vision than other tribes. The tribes with fire would just use that when they needed to light up the dark, he guessed. What about SeaWings? Could they see in the dark? If he were still at school, he could probably get someone to let him test that theory by studying his fellow students.
But I’m not still at school, and I’m not going back, and I shouldn’t — I mean, I don’t care what other tribes can do anyway.
He returned to Moon and found her in a curtained-off corner of the pavilion, next to the only window with a view of the starry night sky. A small blue frog with darker blue speckles was sitting on one of her front talons, and they both seemed to be listening to the chorus of frogs and birds and insects and whatever other mysterious creatures were making all that noise outside.
Winter paused beside his sister for a moment. Icicle looked as though she was slowly relaxing back into real sleep.
“Scarlet’s gone,” Moon said as Winter approached.
“Was it terrible?” Winter asked. “Is Icicle all right? What did Scarlet say about Hailstorm?”
Moon gave him an odd, searching look. Her teardrop scales caught the moonlight on one side and the firefly lamp on the other, gleaming as though one was ice and the other was gold.
Winter realized this was the first time they’d been alone together — apart from the sleeping dragons around them — since he found out she could read minds. Or was it the first time they’d ever been alone together? He felt the weight of the skyfire rock pouch around his ankle.
“Scarlet says your brother is still alive.” Moon turned her talon over, gently sliding the frog onto the windowsill. “Icicle asked for proof, but Scarlet only laughed at her. I wish I could read Scarlet’s mind, but she’s too far away and it’s not really her in Icicle’s dream, only a projection of her. So I can’t tell what she’s thinking or whether it’s true about Hailstorm. I’m sorry.” She gave him that quick, confused look again. “Icicle offered her a deal.”
“You don’t have to —” he started.
“I’m not,” she said. “Worried, I mean. I know you won’t kill Queen Glory.”
“Do you know that?” he asked. “How?”
“Because I think she’s the kind of dragon you respect,” she said slowly. “And I think you wouldn’t want to start a war between the IceWings and both of her tribes. I think you can imagine what killing her would do to Pyrrhia, and you know it would be bad. Also, you’re her guest; she’s welcomed and trusted you. You aren’t the kind of dragon who betrays someone’s trust.”
Winter studied her profile as she wound a vine between her claws. “That’s a lot of thoughts,” he said. “Weren’t you paralyzingly shy at one point? What happened to that unobtrusive, quiet dragon?”
“It turns out it’s actually much easier to talk to you when I can’t hear what you’re thinking,” Moon admitted, smiling.
He stared into her dark eyes for a long moment. “But all of that about Queen Glory … are you sure you’re not still reading my mind?” he finally asked, quietly.
“I don’t have to,” she said. “I’ve already been in there, for one thing — I know you. And I’ve watched you. I saw you put out the fire in the history cave. I saw you save me and Starflight from your own sister. I think you can think bigger than just one tribe against another — you can think about what’s best for all the tribes. I guess I just — I trust you.”
“You seem very sure of certain things about me,” Winter said. “That I would never hurt a dragonet. That I would never kill Queen Glory. That I am somehow honorable and brave.”
“I am,” said Moon. “I am sure of those things. Even when everything else inside you is confusion and mirrors and pain, those things are true.”
He lifted the vine from her claws and wrapped it around his own talons, lowering his voice even more. “Sometimes I’m only sure of one thing,” he said. “That I hope I never hurt you.”
She gazed up at him in surprise. “Me? But I thought you hated me.”
“Then you’re not much of a mind reader, are you?” he said with a half smile. “I mean, I should. But for some reason I can’t.”
He took another step closer, tilting his wings forward to brush hers.
“Well, good,” Moon said, looking at their wings instead of his face. “I’m — I’m glad you can’t hate me.”
“Got it!” Kinkajou’s voice said eagerly behind them. “Moon? Where are you?”
Winter let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.
“Here,” Moon said. She touched one talon lightly to Winter’s chest, then went past him and through the curtain. Winter pressed his talons together, trying to stop them from shaking, and then followed her. Kinkajou was in the center of the pavilion, under one of the firefly jars, spreading a blank scroll on the floor. She nudged an inkpot toward Moon with her tail.
“What is this for?” Kinkajou asked.
“I saw something,” Moon said, crouching beside her. She took the long thin reed that Kinkajou was holding and dipped it in the ink. “Behind Scarlet — I got a glimpse of what was behind her, and I think it was a mountain. It was kind of an unusual shape.” She started drawing. “Maybe we can find it.”
Winter watched the lines appear under Moon’s claws, swooping and turning back, crisscrossing and diving like flights of dragons in the sky. This was a real clue. A clue that might lead them to Hailstorm.
It looked like a wall at first — tall and sheer, with silvery waterfalls trailing down it like dragon tails. Along the top of the wall was a ridge of sharp peaks that looked like an IceWing’s spine, leading up to one peak that looped up and back on itself, almost in the shape of an eye.
Moon lifted the reed and studied the picture. “That’s close anyway,” she said. “Does it look familiar to either of you?”
Winter shook his head. “I haven’t spent much time in the Sky Kingdom, though,” he said. “Assuming that is the Sky Kingdom.”
“I’ve never been anywhere but the rainforest and Jade Mountain,” Kinkajou said with a helpless shrug. “And the NightWing island, of course. Hey, Qibli, wake up and look at this.”
The SandWing came instantly awake as Kinkajou poked him, jumping to his feet as if he was ready for a battle. Moon held the sketch out to him and explained where she’d seen it.
Qibli studied it for a while, then shook his head. “Never seen it,” he said. “But someone must have. Great work, Moon.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Winter added hastily.
“I didn’t really do anything,” she said, taking the drawing back. “It’s only — I mean, I’m just —”
“Lucky,” Kinkajou finished. “I wish I had a cool power like that.”
“Lucky?” Moon said wonderingly. Above her head, three fireflies escaped their jar and darted off in a flicker of surprised sparks.
“Well, it’s no use asking any RainWings where this is,” Kinkajou said, flicking her tail at the sketch. “None of us leave the rainforest if we can help it. Because it is awesome and perfect here,” she added with a stern look at Winter.
“Let’s try Deathbringer,” Moon suggested. “He’s been all over the continent.”
Qibli shot a sideways look at Winter. “Is that all right?” he asked. “He’s not exactly your favorite dragon.”
“I’ll survive,” Winter said. “If he can help me find Hailstorm, that’s what matters.”
It was hard to focus on hating the NightWings now that there was real hope in front of him. A chance of finding Hailstorm before Scarlet killed him — if he’d bought enough time with his lie about killing Glory for her. If he moved fast. If Moon had truly seen where Scarlet was, and if Hailstorm was there, too.
If … if … if …
If I can make this happen … I might really see my brother again after all.