Winter let out a roar and swung his claws in a ferocious arc.

The attacking dragon stopped himself at the last moment, just out of range of Winter’s talons. He yelped in surprise and fell back with a splash.

“Hey!” the new dragon said indignantly. “Rude! You could have taken my nose off!”

“And you’d deserve it for jumping at me like that,” Winter snarled.

“I was practicing my stealth approach,” the dragon grumbled, standing up and shaking off his wet green wings. He was a SeaWing, a bit older than Winter, but much scrawnier. “I wouldn’t have actually hurt you.”

“That’s true, because I would have ripped off your tail and beaten you with it first,” Winter said.

“Nice,” Qibli said from the shore. “Not the face this time. Very creative.”

“Squid!” someone shouted above them. “Didn’t you hear my orders?” A sky-blue SeaWing with dark blue horns came soaring down from the clouds and landed next to the first with a splash. This dragon was bigger, and frowning.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat,” Squid whined.

“I very clearly said, Nobody approach the strangers until I’ve had a chance to speak to them,” said the new SeaWing. “What you’re doing? The opposite of that.”

“I was being STEALTHY,” Squid said, smacking the water with his wings. “Dad said I should practice. He thinks I’m really good at it. He said maybe I’ll be an amazing spy one day.”

The other SeaWing looked as though he had reached the farthest horizon of his patience. “Squid, take your lurking and snooping and harassment somewhere else. Right. Now.”

“Fine fine FINE.” Squid floundered out of the water, flapping his wings and grumbling. “You know, my dad used to be the leader of the Talons of Peace. I don’t know why he lets you boss him around. When he wanted to step aside, he could have let me take over, I mean, what was wrong with that plan …” He took off into the sky. They could hear him muttering and whining for a while as he flew away.

Winter and Qibli exchanged an amused glance. The blue SeaWing took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“I apologize,” he said. “Let’s pretend that never happened. My name is Riptide. I saw your signal … Are you looking for the Talons of Peace?”

“Yes,” Winter said, climbing out of the river onto the grass. “Deathbringer said we should come to you. We need a SkyWing to help us with something.”

“We don’t have a lot of SkyWings,” Riptide admitted. “Ruby pardoned almost everyone who’d had a disagreement with her mother, so all the fugitives who’d been hiding from Scarlet went home. But we still have a couple who don’t feel safe going back — I can ask one of them.”

He let out an odd high-pitched whistle and two more dragons emerged from the trees. One was a MudWing with a crooked tail; the other, Winter realized with a shock, was an IceWing, glittering silvery-white with pale purple underscales. But it was an IceWing he’d never seen before — and how was that possible? Winter had an excellent memory for faces, and he thought he’d met every dragon in the tribe at least once.

“Please ask the SkyWings to come here,” Riptide said to the MudWing, who nodded and flew away.

“Who are you?” Winter asked the IceWing, who was regarding him with cold, snakelike eyes.

“Cirrus of the IceWings,” the strange dragon hissed. “And you?”

That was even stranger. Every IceWing knew the royal family, surely?

“I’m Prince Winter,” he said slowly. He realized he didn’t know what his current ranking was, which was a very unsettling feeling now that he was facing another IceWing. Could he still say “Second Circle” and hope it was true? But then, Cirrus hadn’t offered his circle number either. Because he wouldn’t have one, Winter had to remind himself. He’d have been thrown off the list when he abandoned his post and joined the Talons. “Why don’t I know you?”

Cirrus flicked his dark blue tongue between his teeth. “It’s a big tribe,” he said.

“Not really.” Winter eyed him from horns to tail. Even without ranking circles, Cirrus still should have known to bow to a prince. But it didn’t seem like a good fight to start — Cirrus was quite a bit bigger than Winter and fiercely thin, with claws that looked even sharper than normal IceWing claws.

“Cirrus has been with the Talons of Peace for a long time,” Riptide said. “Much longer than I have. He probably left the Ice Kingdom before you were hatched.”

That somewhat explained it — although Winter was still surprised he’d never heard of Cirrus. He hadn’t realized there were any IceWings in the Talons of Peace. What kind of IceWing would choose banishment from the kingdom? To never return to the snow and the ice palaces — to give up your place in the rankings forever — Winter couldn’t imagine it.

“Did you know my parents?” he asked Cirrus. “Tundra and Narwhal?”

Cirrus glanced up, tracking a rose-colored butterfly with a malevolent gaze, as though he was considering eating it. “Perhaps,” he said. “Long ago.”

He had to know that Narwhal was the queen’s brother. How could anyone have grown up as an IceWing without learning the royal lineage?

Before Winter could ask any more questions, he heard snapping branches and turned to see Moon and Kinkajou returning. Kinkajou was carrying a small pile of peaches and plums between her talons, and a pair of rabbits dangled from Moon’s jaws.

“They’re with us,” Qibli said quickly as Riptide and Cirrus both bristled.

“Really?” Riptide said. “Never thought I’d see a NightWing and an IceWing traveling together. Or a RainWing outside the rainforest, for that matter. How did you all come together?”

Winter glanced over at Cirrus again and found him glaring at Moon and Kinkajou with an expression of searing hatred, so intense that Winter wanted to run across the clearing and fling up his wings to shield Moon from it. Cirrus had left the IceWings, but his loathing of NightWings clearly still ran deep.

“We’re from the Jade Mountain Academy,” Qibli said to Riptide. “I’m Qibli, and that’s Moon and Kinkajou. Guys, this is Riptide and Serious.”

“CIRRUS,” the IceWing snarled.

“That’s what I said.” Qibli smiled disarmingly, but Winter could tell by now when the SandWing was deliberately trying to annoy someone.

“Jade Mountain?” Riptide echoed, his whole face lighting up. “You must know Tsunami. How is she? Did she send you? Was there a message for me?”

“No,” Winter said. “I mean, Deathbringer sent us. Tsunami doesn’t know we’re here.”

“Oh.” Riptide’s wings drooped.

Moon took a nervous step toward him, opened her mouth, closed it, and then blurted, “But she thinks about you all the time.” She made a face, as though she wasn’t sure she should have said that.

“Really?” The SeaWing’s phosphorescent scales flashed as he turned to look at her.

“Yes. She — she wants to hear from you.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Riptide said. “I should probably wait until she contacts me. Oh, here’s Pyrite and Avalanche.”

There was a rustling in the trees, and then the MudWing was back, this time with two SkyWings following behind her.

The bigger SkyWing had red scales, smoke rising from her ears, and a bad-tempered expression. There was something about the way she glared at them that made Winter’s spine prickle. He followed her gaze and realized that her hostility was directed at Qibli; she almost looked as though she wanted to rip the barb right off his tail. Does she know him, or does she have a problem with SandWings in general?

Well, if she does know him, that would explain why she wants to kill him. Ha ha.

Winter let himself be amused for a second — but he also found himself hoping she wouldn’t be the one who helped them.

The second SkyWing was smaller and her wings twitched constantly, as if she might take off at any moment. Her scales were an interesting orange color that was close to yellow, like the inside of a peach, and her eyes were a darker shade of orange, like the amber earring Qibli wore. Around her neck was a small brown pouch on a gold chain, tight as a choker, and she also had a gold nose ring on one side of her snout, which was a jewelry decision Winter had never seen before.

“Hi,” she said, and then launched abruptly into a speech. “Listen, whatever it is you need, I don’t think I can help you. It’s not that I wouldn’t like to. I would like to, really, I wish I could do all kinds of things, but the truth is I’m not very good at anything and I’m sure I’m not the dragon you’re looking for, so …” She trailed off, staring at them and twitching.

“We’re not asking much,” Winter said. “We just want you to look at a sketch and see if one of you recognizes it — and if you do, maybe you could give us directions on how to get there.”

“Why should I help you?” the red SkyWing demanded.

“Because we’re at peace now,” Riptide said sharply. “And dragons at peace help each other. That is kind of the entire premise of the Talons of Peace.”

She growled deep in her throat, sending more smoke out her nostrils.

The other SkyWing touched the little bag on her necklace, rolling it anxiously between her claws. “I don’t know, I mean, I have a terrible memory,” she said. “And an awful sense of direction.”

“Just give it a try, please, Pyrite,” Riptide said. There was something in his voice that gave Winter the impression he’d spent a lot of time managing this particular dragon.

Moon took the mini-scroll with her sketch out of the satchel around her neck and spread it out on a flat boulder, revealing the odd mountain shapes she’d drawn.

Avalanche stomped over and glowered at the drawing for a moment. “Doesn’t look familiar,” she muttered.

“All right,” Moon said with a sigh. “Thank you anyway.”

“Can I go now?” Avalanche demanded, squinting at Riptide. He nodded, and she leaped into the sky, flapping away with noisy, powerful wingbeats.

“Pyrite?” Riptide said, indicating the scroll.

The thin SkyWing edged up to Moon, glanced quickly at the paper, then shook her head, saying, “Sorry, sorry, sorry. All trees look the same to me.”

“It’s not a tree,” Moon said firmly, pinning Pyrite with her gaze before the SkyWing could retreat. “It’s a mountain, and you do recognize it. Tell us where it is.”

Pyrite gave her a surprised, guilty look. Winter wondered whether he should warn Moon to hide her mind reading a bit better.

“Oh … I suppose it’s a bit familiar,” Pyrite said, squinting at the sketch again. “I’m sorry, I don’t usually, um, do anything useful, so …”

Winter already wanted to smack this dithering dragon. Hailstorm was out there somewhere, alone and trapped. If fidgety Pyrite thought she was going to be the one thing standing in Winter’s way, he had a tail full of spikes ready to convince her otherwise.

“It’s all right, don’t be nervous,” Kinkajou said, her scales shifting to a warm golden color similar to Pyrite’s. “Anything you can tell us would be helpful.”

“Well — I suppose it’s not too far away,” Pyrite admitted. “If I remember right, it’s southwest of the Sky Palace. Ish.”

“Hmm,” Qibli said. “Can you be any more specific?”

“Maybe you could help us find it,” Kinkajou suggested.

“Oh dear, no,” Pyrite said, stammering and shuffling backward. “I couldn’t, I’m sure.”

“Why are you looking for this place?” Cirrus suddenly demanded. Winter had almost forgotten he was there, but he’d somehow crept around until he could see the sketch over Pyrite’s shoulder. “What do you really want?”

“It’s a fair question,” Riptide pointed out. “If you want Pyrite to go with you, we should all know what she’s flying into.”

Winter liked the way Qibli looked to him, waiting for Winter to decide whether to reveal the truth.

“We think this is where Queen Scarlet is hiding,” Winter said cautiously.

Riptide sucked in a startled breath. Cirrus sank lower to the ground and hissed, his tail lashing furiously.

But Pyrite turned shining eyes to Winter. “Queen Scarlet? She’s all right?” She picked up the drawing and held it close to her chest. “And you think she’s here? I’ll take you there if she’s there.”

“I’m not sure that’s wise,” Cirrus growled.

“Why would you get a vote?” Winter demanded. “She can help us if she wants to.” He had to admit to himself that he did not love the idea of a fervent Scarlet loyalist leading them to the queen. What if she betrayed them along the way? But perhaps if they kept their true mission a secret, they could still use her.

“I can try,” Pyrite said. “I mean … I might get us lost, but … I’ll do my best, for Queen Scarlet. I always do my best for her. Did, I mean.”

She let out a little sigh, settling her wings.

“Thank you,” Winter said.

“I don’t like this,” Cirrus interjected. “What good could come of finding Queen Scarlet? What are you planning to do if she is there?” He suddenly gave Winter a sharp look. “Did you say Prince Winter?”

“Mind your own business,” Winter snapped.

“It’s all right, Cirrus,” Pyrite said. Twisting her claws together, she gave Winter an apologetic smile. “He kind of takes care of me. He’s just being protective.”

Add that to the pile of weird mysteries about this IceWing, Winter thought. Why would he be so concerned about this rather annoying SkyWing? He can’t be in love with her, can he? Cirrus didn’t have anything loving about his demeanor. He didn’t even seem to particularly like Pyrite; he barely glanced at her when she spoke. He certainly didn’t look at her the way …

… the way I look at Moon.

Winter glanced across the clearing and finally admitted something to himself.

Or the way Qibli looks at Moon.

Did Moon look at either of them that way? He couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter — neither of them could be with her anyway. Not if they wanted to remain loyal to their queens and tribes.

Stop thinking about this and focus on getting Hailstorm back.

He stepped over to Pyrite and reached for the drawing in her claws. As she held it out, their talons briefly touched — and Winter felt a sudden weird shifting of the world, like something tugging apart his muscles from inside him.

He froze, staring into the SkyWing’s innocent amber eyes. He’d felt something strange like this once before — at the tunnels in the rainforest, where magic had made the world not quite right.

And if he felt the same twisting of magic when he touched her talons, that could only mean one thing.

Pyrite must be an animus.