“Hailstorm?” Winter whispered. “But how? You were just — you were a SkyWing. I saw you. How did you —?”

“What happened to the throne room?” Hailstorm asked, his voice getting stronger. “And what have you been eating to get so big?” He stopped, swaying in place and rubbing his eyes. “Wait, I have to find the queen … why are my scales the wrong color?” He held out his talons and then recoiled from them with an expression of terror. “What have you done to me? Why am I so cold?”

He seized Winter’s front claws in a grip that sent shock waves of desperation along Winter’s arms. “Who am I?” Hailstorm demanded.

“You’re my brother,” Winter said. That was clear. That was true. They could deal with spells and lingering side effects later. He leaned into Hailstorm’s grasp, locking their eyes together. “And we have to get you out of here before Scarlet finds you.”

“Queen Scarlet,” Hailstorm corrected automatically. “She wouldn’t hurt me. I am completely loy —” His face twisted, horror warring with despair and confusion. “What am I saying? Winter, what am I saying?”

“We’ll fix it, but right now we have to fly,” Winter said. Qibli darted across the clearing and said something to Moon. She immediately slid her talons under Kinkajou and tried to hoist the RainWing onto Qibli’s back, struggling as Kinkajou’s tail flopped sideways and overbalanced her. The unconscious dragon’s wings whapped Moon in the face and her head lolled awkwardly on her long neck.

Winter took a step toward them, but Hailstorm wouldn’t let go of him.

“Are you real?” the tall IceWing asked. “Is any of this real?”

“Hailstorm, snap into it,” Winter barked. “We need to help my friends and get out of here.”

“Friends?” Hailstorm echoed. He squinted over at the tangle of dragons on the edge of the dying firelight. “But Winter, I think there’s a NightWing over there.”

Winter’s guilt came slamming back through him, along with a second wave of guilt that came from remembering how much Moon had done to help him.

“She’s on our side. She’s helping me rescue you. Hailstorm, move.” He finally got his claws free and ran over to the others.

He reached Moon’s side in time to catch Kinkajou as she slid sideways off the SandWing. Qibli had his teeth gritted and his eyes closed, his legs bowed under her weight.

Kinkajou was small, but not that much smaller than Qibli, who was wiry and narrow-shouldered. Winter couldn’t imagine how the SandWing could even take off with her on top of him, let alone keep up a breakneck escape pace. And Winter couldn’t do it either; he was broader than Qibli, but not any bigger.

But what’s the alternative? Leave her here?

He was astonished to find that he couldn’t even consider that possibility. He wouldn’t abandon her, not even to save Hailstorm. He could feel his brother watching him, the needles of centuries of IceWing judgment pricking along his spine.

“We need someone as big as Clay,” Moon said ruefully, resting Kinkajou’s head in the crook of her shoulder and wing.

Hailstorm might be big enough, but he’s too confused. And he has no love for RainWings, either as Pyrite or as himself. I don’t know what he might do with her midflight.

If only Qibli and I could carry her together …

Winter darted over to the trees, leaped up, and wrenched the canopy loose from the trunk it was bound to. The weave of branches and vines was thick enough to keep out rain; if they were lucky, it would be strong enough to hold Kinkajou.

He spread it out beside Moon, who understood without words what he was doing. Awkwardly they shifted Kinkajou onto the makeshift stretcher, curling her tail close around her body and tucking in her wings. There was no sign of life from her as they did this, although Winter thought he could feel a pulse in the palm of her talons.

The pouch was still crushed in his claws. He needed to look at it more closely, but not right now. And he wasn’t about to risk wearing it, after seeing what it did to Hailstorm. Carefully he tucked it beside Kinkajou, snagging the chain securely around several branches.

Qibli took one side of the canopy in his front talons. Winter reached for the other, but Moon interceded.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “You take care of your brother.”

She hooked her claws in the web of branches and nodded at Qibli. Beating their wings together, they lifted up into the air, wobbling and lopsided for a moment. Winter jumped to catch Kinkajou in case they dropped her, but they righted themselves and flew higher, their wings finding the same rhythm. They shot up into the clouds as the rain began cascading down harder and harder.

Winter ran back over to Hailstorm. “Fly!” he shouted. “Follow me!”

“Maybe I should wait here for Queen Scarlet,” Hailstorm said uncertainly. “She could probably explain what’s happening to my head.”

“No!” Winter shouted. He shook his wings furiously, which did not help dry him off at all. “She is the enemy! Come on!” He couldn’t believe Scarlet wasn’t here already. How long could it take the NightWing to fly back to get her? Even with his face burned and frostbitten? Maybe he’d gotten lost, unable to see … but Scarlet still should have heard the noise of the battle. She could be flying down to investigate right now.

He launched himself into the air, and to his relief, Hailstorm only hesitated a moment before following.

The rain smashed down on them, harder and harder. Winter wished it were snow instead — he tried imagining the drops as light, fluffy flakes of comforting snow, but it didn’t help. Lightning flashed overhead and he caught a glimpse of the odd flapping shape that was Qibli and Moon and the sagging canopy. They were flying west, hopefully out of the mountains and toward the Kingdom of Sand.

And beyond that, the Ice Kingdom, Winter thought. He glanced sideways at Hailstorm, now keeping up with long, powerful strokes of his wings. I did it. I found him. I can take him home.

He looked forward again, at the dragons winging their way over the mountain range, and felt a strange stabbing feeling in his chest.

Home.

Where none of my friends can go.

Where I must be — I mean, where I can be a true IceWing once again.

*  *  *

They flew without stopping for the rest of the night. Winter and Hailstorm soon caught up to the others and then slowed to match their speed — although Hailstorm gave Winter a puzzled look as he did. After a while, Winter moved in to take the canopy from Moon and she let him; a short time after that, she took it from Qibli, and the three of them traded off turns silently for hours, saving their breath for flying.

Hailstorm did not offer to help, but he stayed with them, to Winter’s relief.

Finally they flew out of the edge of the storm, straight into a cool gray morning somewhere in the borderlands between the Sky Kingdom and the Kingdom of Sand. The mountains were behind them, and the sun had not yet climbed high enough to make it past the peaks, but everything was lit in that barely dawn, colorless way that makes your eyes tired. A small herd of springboks turned graceful, antlered heads to the sky, spotted the dragons, and bounded instantly away, their white tails flickering as they fled south.

“We can rest at the river,” Qibli called. “Almost there.”

Winter hefted his side of the sling, trying to adjust his aching talons. The entire front half of his body felt numb, as though he had turned to stone and someone had decided to hang a RainWing off his petrified arms. His head was fuzzy with exhaustion.

Soon he saw the Great Five-Tail River ahead of them, a vast green-brown-blue vein stretching from the desert to the delta. According to the history scrolls, this was the most disputed piece of territory in all of Pyrrhia, as the SkyWings and SandWings had fought over ownership of the river for centuries. Winter wondered if Burn had promised it to the SkyWings in exchange for their alliance in the War of SandWing Succession. He wondered if it was only a matter of time before Queen Ruby and Queen Thorn resumed the battle that had raged for so long.

But for now, the banks of the river were peaceful. Near the delta, the SandWing settlement on the west side had slowly merged with the SkyWing village on the east over the last twenty years, so that now, red and orange and sandy-yellow wings dotted the sky and the streets side by side. A wide white stone bridge had been built across the river, lined with shops where dragons traded and bartered all day.

Winter knew this from reports he’d heard in the throne room. IceWing reconnaissance had kept a close eye on the tentative peace that was forged between Burn and Scarlet. Would it last beyond the war? Where would that leave the IceWings … the next border where the SandWings might look for new territory?

But he had only ever flown over the Great River; he’d only seen the growing town from a distance. Now, seeing it take shape ahead of them, he realized that was Qibli’s destination. Winter had expected to stop in a clump of trees somewhere, but the SandWing was clearly leading them to the town itself.

“Wait,” he said, and Qibli immediately circled back to take Kinkajou’s stretcher from him. Winter shook out his talons, feeling the blood slowly tingling back into motion. “Where are you taking us? Shouldn’t we hide somewhere?” He gestured at the wild landscape below them: the sand dotted with palm trees that stretched away south, the muddier banks farther north, the thicker greenery near the town and the delta. There was something about bringing Hailstorm into a crowded settlement that made him nervous.

“Possibility is the best place to hide,” Qibli argued. “There are hundreds of dragons there, from all the tribes these days. We’ll blend right in — and Scarlet won’t dare show her face in the town, with so many of Ruby’s dragons patrolling the streets. Besides, Kinkajou needs a doctor.”

As usual, Qibli’s nine thousand very good points were impossible to counter. Winter glanced at Kinkajou’s still, white face and nodded.

“The town is called Possibility?” Moon asked. Her voice was strained, but when Winter reached for her side of the canopy she flicked her wing at him. “No, take a longer break,” she said. “I can handle it for another few minutes.”

“When the two sides merged, neither wanted to take the other’s original name,” Qibli said. “This was about seven years ago. They talked and disagreed and talked some more, throwing around names like Hope and Peace and Union, but finally they put it to a vote, and the majority of the citizens chose Possibility.”

“I like that,” Moon said. “The possibility of hope and peace. But it’s not guaranteed; they still have to work for it.”

“You know someone here?” Winter asked Qibli.

“A lot of someones,” Qibli said. “I met practically the whole SandWing tribe after Thorn became queen, as everyone came to pay tribute — and to see if they could support her as queen. Which they can and do, of course, because she is amazing. Anyway, several of them were from Possibility. I just have to find one who can help us.”

They flew down to land on one of the islands in the river as the sun clambered over the peaks, scattering warm yellow light that outlined the palm trees in gold. A hippo was planted in the mud on the island’s shore. It gave the dragons a resigned look as they landed, like Fine, go ahead and eat me, I knew it would happen eventually. But they were all too tired to kill anything, and after a moment the hippo splashed loudly into the river and submerged, probably congratulating itself on its impressive stealth.

Moon climbed onto the canopy as soon as it was spread out on the ground. She picked up Kinkajou’s talons, trying to rub warmth into them.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Qibli promised. He darted off to the bridge, not far away, where merchants were already unrolling carpets and setting out trays of food that exhaled clouds of steam. Winter could see Qibli in the gaps between the stalls, pacing along the length of the bridge and speaking to dragons here and there.

“This is weird,” Hailstorm said behind Winter. “All those dragons from different tribes, just … acting like it’s totally normal to be together. Not as weird as you bonding with your strange little trio, though.”

Winter turned to look up at his older brother — although it wasn’t as far up as it used to be. Hailstorm looked so exactly like he had the day he’d been captured. There were no new scars, no signs of starvation or beating or anything Winter would have expected him to go through in a SkyWing prison.

But then, if Hailstorm hadn’t been himself all this time …

“What do you remember about being Scarlet’s prisoner?” Winter asked.

Hailstorm shook his head. “I was never her prisoner,” he said. “I’ve been a loyal soldier to her for … I thought it was my whole life but now … all my memories of being a SkyWing dragonet are fading. I think I hatched as an IceWing.”

“You did,” Winter said. “You’re my brother Hailstorm. You’ve always been an IceWing.”

Hailstorm shuddered in a big, bone-wracking way. “But I know I’ve been fighting for Queen Scarlet in the war,” he said. “I remember bowing to her. Worshipping her. I fought — I killed IceWings for her.” He drew his wings in closer and clenched his talons. “Or was it a dream? Maybe I’m still myself and I’m only hallucinating memories of being an IceWing.” With trepidation he held out his claws, saw that they were still white, and slammed his eyes shut.

Winter’s veins felt as if they were iced over and cracking, bits of him splintering off inside his body. Hailstorm looked the same, but inside he was nothing like the brother Winter remembered. This lost dragon, torn in two, who had killed some of his own tribe in service to a queen he hated — it was worse than all the things Winter had imagined Scarlet doing to him.

“Hailstorm, focus,” Winter said, flicking his brother’s tail. If he treated him like their parents did, sharp and demanding, maybe Hailstorm’s real personality would come back. “You are my brother Hailstorm. You were under some kind of enchantment, but you’re back. Just forget about Pyrite and be you again.”

“But which me?” Hailstorm protested. “I look at that river and think, I can’t swim. But I remember diving into dark green oceans studded with drifting pieces of ice. I look at my claws and think, I’m clumsy and useless. But I remember winning every competition — I remember being at the top of the rankings. I feel like the air is too warm and I think I can’t wait to go home and roll in snow, but I imagine being surrounded by IceWings and I immediately want to kill them all to protect my queen.” He made a noise of despair and pressed his forehead as though he were trying to keep his brains from spilling out.

Winter exchanged a glance with Moon, who looked as horrified as he felt. Was it even safe to bring Hailstorm back to the Ice Kingdom? Had he been too badly damaged by living as a SkyWing for so long?

Would he ever truly be Winter’s brother again?