Deathbringer didn’t recognize the mountains Moon had drawn, but he knew who might.

“The Talons of Peace,” he said. He breathed out another small flame to study the drawing. “Find them — or what’s left of them — and ask one of their SkyWings to help you.” They’d found him on guard outside the royal treehouse where Glory slept. The darkness was not as thick up here, close to the treetops, where more moonlight could filter through the leaves. The small glowing lights of phosphorescent insects trailed up and down the branches, and Winter spotted a few eerie glow-in-the-dark moths nestled in the pale night orchids.

“All right, then,” said Qibli. “We’ll go ahead and track down a shadowy underground group who move every few weeks and weren’t caught for the entire war. Easy.”

Deathbringer swatted at him and Qibli jumped out of the way with a grin.

“They’re not all that shadowy now,” Deathbringer said.

“And nobody said you were coming,” Winter said to Qibli. “I don’t know what this ‘we’ business is all about.”

“Ignore him,” Qibli said to Deathbringer. “We’re growing on him, I’m pretty sure. Why do the Talons of Peace even still exist, now that the war is over?”

“Many of them aren’t welcome back in their tribes, so they have nowhere else to go,” Deathbringer said. “Their goals are shifting, though. I know the dragon who’s taken over the group. I can help you find them, if Glory doesn’t mind you leaving.”

“Oh, how nice of you to check,” Glory said, materializing suddenly out of the darkness. Winter jumped, wondering how long the RainWing queen had been there. And why she was camouflaged — because she was following him, or because she was spying on Deathbringer?

“As it happens,” Queen Glory went on, “I don’t mind what Qibli and Prince Winter choose to do — I’m not their queen. But I do have a few reservations about allowing two of my favorite subjects to gallivant around the continent chasing Pyrrhia’s most dangerous dragon.”

“Did you hear that?” Kinkajou said, nudging Moon so vigorously she nearly knocked her over. “Favorite.”

“The part you were supposed to hear is ‘dangerous,’ ” Glory said. “With Blister and Burn both dead, Scarlet is probably the scariest dragon left alive — and she certainly hates us the most. Explain to me how it is a good idea to send a quartet of young dragonets after her.”

“No quartet necessary,” Winter said. “Just the one. That’s me. IceWing prince over here. Going to save my brother. Without the entourage. Please order them to stay here; it would make my life a lot simpler.”

“We’re not going after Scarlet,” Moon said to Glory. “We’re going to find Winter’s brother.”

“WE are doing no such thing,” Winter said firmly. “I am going to find him. JUST ME.”

“That’s right,” Qibli said. “Just him and the three of us, his best friends in the world.”

“I can’t even dignify that with a snort,” Winter said, looking down his nose at the SandWing.

“If we can figure out where she’s got him locked up, maybe we can set Hailstorm free without Scarlet even seeing us,” Moon said.

“Besides,” Kinkajou said, “we’re not that much younger than you and your friends were when you set out to save Pyrrhia from all the bad dragons.”

“We’ll be careful,” Moon said. “We promise.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Winter said. “I don’t want them to come with me. In fact, if you could stick this SandWing in some quicksand while I get away from him, I will personally bring you a walrus to express my gratitude.”

“Ew,” said Kinkajou.

“His very best friends,” Qibli said sincerely.

In the moonlight, it was hard to tell what the colors were that were shifting across Glory’s scales. She curled her tail around the branch underneath her and sighed deeply. “Deathbringer?”

“I think you should let them go,” Deathbringer said. “I went on my first mission when I was four, and I turned out fine.”

“Well, that’s debatable,” Glory said. “And if I wanted to go, you’d have an absolute heart attack.”

“Yes, because you’re the most important queen in Pyrrhia,” said Deathbringer. “And also because I couldn’t live without you, not that you care, torturing me with your recklessness all the time.”

“That’s true,” Glory said. “You’d be an absolute mess, the way you were before you met me.”

“I was only half a dragon before I met you,” he declared. “And I would be even less if I lost you now.”

“All right, settle down,” she said affectionately. She turned to Kinkajou and Moon. “You may go, but here are my orders: Do not interact with Scarlet. Stay as far out of her way as you can. Don’t let her know you’re there. Don’t fight with anyone, don’t make any queens mad, and most importantly, don’t you dare die. Understood?”

The two dragons nodded, and Kinkajou clapped her front talons together with excitement.

“Am I speaking a language only IceWings understand?” Winter demanded.

“Listen,” Glory said, fixing her green-eyed gaze on Winter. “I used to think I could do everything by myself, too. I didn’t want help from anyone. But I wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for my friends, and I have a feeling you’ll be saying the same thing a year from now.”

“That might apply if these dragons were my friends,” Winter objected, “but they’re actually strangers who happened to get thrown into a group with me. They’re not even IceWings. Why should they care what happens to Hailstorm?”

“They care what happens to you,” Glory said.

“For some reason,” added Deathbringer.

“Entertainment value,” offered Qibli.

“So,” Glory said, shooting a quelling look at the SandWing, “I strongly suggest you stop fighting and take them along. You might be surprised to find how useful dragons from other tribes can be.”

Winter growled softly. He didn’t want to give in. He wanted to prove to his family that he could save Hailstorm alone. And he really didn’t want to admit how much he would rather have these dragons with him when he faced Scarlet. Moon’s mind reading, Kinkajou’s camouflage, and Qibli’s aggravating intelligence … yes, he could imagine how they’d all be useful.

What was wrong with him? Where was his IceWing pride?

But it would waste time if he tried to keep arguing.

And saying yes meant a few more days with Moon …

Which should have been a reason to say no.

“Very well,” he said finally. “Tell me how to find the Talons of Peace.”

*  *  *

The Winding Tail River began high in the Claws of the Clouds mountains and ran down past Jade Mountain to the sea. Near a bend in the river, north of the rainforest and west of Queen Moorhen’s lake, there was a scavenger den that was believed to be the biggest in Pyrrhia. Unlike most scavenger dens, this one was not hidden away; instead, it was well fortified with stone walls and defended fiercely by the little creatures who lived in it.

“I know some dragons who’ve hunted there,” Deathbringer had said, “but most of them say it’s not worth it. You’ll just end up getting jabbed with sharp things and pelted with heavy things. There’s much easier prey in the river and mountains.”

This was the new spot the Talons of Peace had chosen for their signals, apparently, now that Jade Mountain was being watched by too many dragon eyes. The scavenger den was fairly high up, built on a cliff overlooking the forest, and any dragon flying over it would be visible for miles in every direction.

Which wasn’t Winter’s favorite feeling, to be honest, but that was how it worked. The Talons of Peace were out there somewhere, with someone watching the skies in case of a signal like this, and he needed to find them.

The four dragonets reached the area shortly after midday, landing on one of the clifftops below the scavenger den. A brisk wind buffeted their wings and tossed hawks around far overhead with piercing hunting cries. The sun was brilliant yellow-white in a perfectly clear sky, much like the day Hailstorm had been captured.

“We could wait until night,” Moon suggested. “Then Qibli and I can fly up and signal with fire — trails of flames in the night sky. Deathbringer said that would work.”

“They’re not just watching for fire-breathing dragons, though,” Winter said. “I can take care of this part, don’t worry.” He flung himself into the air before anyone could argue with him.

The wind caught his wings and lifted him in a wheeling spiral, up and up and up toward the blue dome overhead. It was such a relief to be out of the rainforest and away from all the clinging damp vines and weird ripe-fruit smells. Winter felt as though his wings were six times larger out here, with room to stretch and soar.

He flew as high as he could, circled over the other dragonets, and then plummeted swiftly down like a meteor slicing through the sky. He zoomed over their heads, banked upward, and caught a wind where he could float like a leaf.

Now for the signal. Winter angled his wings to catch the sun. He’d swum in the river and polished his scales this morning so they glittered even more than usual, wintry blue and white. The sunlight reflected off him as he tilted his wings, flashing like a mirror to any watching dragons below.

He twisted slowly, making sure he could be seen from any direction, although he guessed the Talons of Peace were somewhere in the long range of mountains that split the land like jagged claws pushing out of the ground. He could see the twin peaks of Jade Mountain far away to the south. To the west, the pale rolling dunes of the desert filled the horizon beyond the mountain range. And below him, to the east and north, were the swamps of the Mud Kingdom.

Was Hailstorm out there somewhere? Did he know the war was over? Did he know how Scarlet was using him now? Was he crouched in darkness, wishing someone would come save him?

Winter shook those thoughts away, turning his attention to the scavenger den. It was cleverly chosen. The scavengers had found a spot where a huge overhanging ledge sheltered much of their home from the sky, shielding them in one direction from flying predators. Cave entrances dotted the cliffside and odd little structures were carved out of the rock, each probably large enough for nine or ten scavengers to curl up inside. A wall of thick stones ran around the den, ending at the cliff on each side, barricading them in.

He could also see several patches of greenery that looked almost like gardens — could scavengers think far enough ahead to plant gardens? Next to the ledge, a waterfall cascaded cheerfully down the cliff, right past the den. Some kind of wooden contraption was built out into the spray, catching buckets full of water and spinning them back toward the safety of the walls.

Winter hovered, watching the scavengers. Several of them were darting about, calling to each other in their squeaky chirps. They seemed very active — much more so than Bandit — almost like a pod of dolphins flurrying about after you accidentally drop the remains of your whale carcass on them.

A few were peering over the wall at the nearby cliffs. He saw one point to the ledge where Moon, Qibli, and Kinkajou were sitting in the sun together, resting their wings, black and pale yellow and iridescent blue-purple-green side by side.

Are they worried about dragons so close to their home? Winter wondered. That was cute. Of course, this particular group of dragons was possibly the least likely to eat a scavenger of any dragons in Pyrrhia. But if they’d wanted to, what would the scavengers do about it?

The scavengers were rolling something up to the wall now … something made of pieces of wood fitted together, with ropes and metal bits as well. The sharp pointed end of it slid into a slot in the wall and poked out the other side.

Winter swooped lower, trying to figure out what they were doing. It didn’t seem as if they’d noticed him yet, in the sky above them.

A scavenger with long fur swooping off its head like a tail climbed nimbly onto the wall and leaned over, holding a torch that flickered with fire at the end. It lowered the torch to touch the end of the contraption that was sticking through the wall. The flames caught and licked around the point, and immediately the scavengers on the other side of the wall started bustling around, twisting the ropes and pulling things and pointing the device —

— at the dragons below.

It was a weapon! These scavengers had some kind of fiery projectile weapon — and they were about to shoot it at Moon and the others.

Winter folded his wings and plummeted toward the den as fast as gravity could take him. There was a shout from one of the scavengers. Suddenly the weapon fired, and a spear as long as a dragon came hurtling out of the wall, dancing with flames and wickedly sharp. It plunged down, straight toward Qibli’s heart.

“LOOK OUT!” Winter roared. He wasn’t close enough to reach it but —

He called up the cold from inside him and blasted a spray of frostbreath at the spear.

The fire went out instantly as ice crystals appeared all along the weapon. The extra weight and the force of his breath knocked the spear off course. It crashed into the cliff underneath Qibli’s talons, and then dropped to the earth far below instead.

Kinkajou shrieked and Qibli leaped aside, spreading his wings to shield Moon.

Winter wheeled over their heads and landed beside them. “Time to move,” he barked.

“The scavengers are shooting at us!” Kinkajou cried. “That’s so mean! We didn’t even try to eat them or anything!”

“But other dragons have,” Qibli pointed out. The four of them swiftly arrowed into the sky, far out of range of the scavengers’ weapons. Winter glanced back and saw the small furry faces peering out to watch them fly away.

“Is it weird that I’m kind of impressed?” Moon asked. “I had no idea they could come up with something like that.”

“I’m sticking with outraged,” Kinkajou said. “Hello, I’m a vegetarian! There is SO no need to shoot ME, of all dragons! I should go down there and ROAR at them.” Her scales were vibrantly, alarmingly orange, much brighter than any SkyWing’s scales could be. Winter guessed that if the Talons had somehow missed his mirror signal, a dragon this weirdly colored might still catch their eye.

“What in the world was it?” Qibli asked. He soared in a tight circle, trying to see down into the den. “How did it work? How did they make it? Could we make one? I mean, not us, not right now, but maybe one day for Thorn’s palace?”

“I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” Winter admitted.

“Can you draw it for me?” Qibli asked.

“Um … sure.”

They found a place to wait for the Talons, above the scavengers, out of their sight this time, near the river that led to the waterfall. Kinkajou and Moon went off to find food, while Winter tried to sketch the weapon in the sandy banks beside the river.

“But did this pull it back?” Qibli kept asking. He poked the drawing, scattering sand over Winter’s claws. “Did this part fit into here? Wouldn’t they need a piece like this?”

“I have no idea!” Winter finally erupted. “I was a little busy saving your scales!”

“That’s true,” Qibli said, sitting back and giving him a delighted smile. “You totally saved my scales. I knew we were best friends. Did I say thank you yet?”

“No,” Winter grumbled.

“Thank you,” Qibli said, entirely too sincerely for Winter.

“Well,” Winter said, “I would have done the same thing for anyone, you know.”

“I know,” Qibli said. “I like that about you.”

Winter saw, with surprise, that he meant it. Qibli was as bad as a RainWing, flapping his feelings all over the place all the time.

“You would get eaten alive in the Ice Kingdom,” Winter pointed out.

Qibli shrugged. “Maybe not. I survived the Scorpion Den,” he said. “And my family. They would not have saved me in this situation, if you’re curious. More likely they’d have grabbed the spear and stabbed me themselves.”

“Mine would have waited to see if I could save myself, and then stood there shaking their heads in grave disappointment when I didn’t,” Winter said. “Taking notes on all the things I did wrong. ‘Stood in the wrong place. Allowed spear to penetrate scales. Bleeding too much.’ And so forth.”

Qibli laughed. “They sound great.”

“They are,” Winter said quickly. “That’s how IceWing parents are supposed to be. I’m very lucky.”

Qibli gave him a strange look. “I guess they did something right,” he said after a moment. “I mean, for you to be so determined to rescue your brother. If I were in a SkyWing prison, my brother would definitely not come to rescue me. To be fair, I wouldn’t go rescue him either. Pyrrhia would be much better off with him locked up where he can’t hurt anyone.”

A breeze sent ripples across the surface of the river. Winter stepped over his sketch and waded into the water, rinsing the sand off his claws. Tiny golden and silver fish darted around his talons. The water was bracingly cold, like a fleeting reminder of home.

“I have a sinister older sister, too,” Qibli offered.

“Icicle’s not older than me,” Winter said. “We were in the same hatching. And sinister is a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Qibli said skeptically.

Winter sighed. “My parents will probably be so proud of her. Up until the part where she failed — which they’ll see as my fault — and then got caught by RainWings — also my fault. Going home is going to be excellent in all the ways. I can’t wait.”

“It’ll be all right, because you’ll be bringing Hailstorm with you,” Qibli said confidently. “So they’ll have to forgive you.”

Will they? Winter wondered. Would they be proud of him if he succeeded? Or would they be too horrified by his methods and his company?

His sharp ears caught a quiet splash nearby. Alertly he spun in a circle and scanned the river.

Suddenly he spotted a dark shape swarming through the water toward him, moving faster than a shark.

Before he could cry out, a dragon lunged out of the water and straight for his throat.