“What is the meaning of this?” Cobra roared as four SandWing soldiers seized her wings and tail. They threw chains around her legs and efficiently snapped a metal cage around the end of her tail so she couldn’t sting anyone with her venom.

“You are under arrest,” Thorn announced, holding her flaming torch a little higher to examine Cobra’s face. “For …” She gave Qibli a quizzical look.

“For lying to me,” Qibli said, “and conspiring against the queen.”

“Lying to you!” Cobra shouted. “What are you talking about?” She snapped her teeth at one of the soldiers and nearly managed to bite off his ear.

“You have not been imprisoned for the last two years,” Qibli said, fighting to keep the tremor out of his voice. “I doubt you were even in that oubliette for a day before I arrived. Vulture knew I was coming and put you down there so I’d be willing to risk everything to save you.”

“No,” Cobra growled, struggling.

“Queen Thorn,” said Qibli, “who’s in charge of all your spies?”

“A dragon named Capybara,” Thorn answered.

“That’s what I thought,” said Qibli. He turned to his mother. “You said the name Capybara when you were pretending to read my scroll of information for Vulture — but I hadn’t written that name anywhere in it. You also mentioned Thorn’s morning meetings with her most trusted advisors. You’d only know about those details if you’d been out of prison this whole time, spying on Thorn with the Obsidian Mirror, right alongside Grandfather.”

“That’s — that’s ridiculous,” Cobra sputtered. “A coincidence —”

“And when I went to our old house,” Qibli went on, “I smelled roasted coriander seeds — the snack you always eat when you’re preparing for an assassination. You’d been there only a day or so earlier, not gone for two years.

“That’s also why we were able to escape so easily. Because this is what Vulture really wanted — for me to bring you, his top assassin, into Thorn’s palace.”

“Dung beetles,” Cobra spat. “This is all wild speculation. You’ve always been a half-witted idiot with crazy ideas.”

“Open that sack,” Qibli said to the soldiers, flicking his tail at the bag Cobra had brought with her. “Carefully.”

One of them gingerly undid the top and peered inside. She took out an oval of flat black glass and set it on the sand. That was followed by the remaining chakrams, a series of gradually pointier and scarier knives, a black hood, and a small glass vial with an emerald-green liquid inside. Last of all, the guard reached back into the bag and lifted out a fat, spiky dragonflame cactus.

That’s what blew up the history cave, Qibli thought, feeling a creeping sense of horror at the sight of the prickly weapon. That’s what killed Carnelian and Bigtail. He knew if it caught fire, it would explode and spray deadly sharp little seed pods in all directions.

Smolder took a step closer and squinted at it. “Your Majesty,” he said.

“I know,” said Thorn. “We’ve seen evidence of these at all the attack sites.”

“Were you sent to blow up the palace?” Qibli asked his mother. He touched the vial lightly with the tip of his wing. “Or was your mission to poison the queen?”

Cobra’s eyes narrowed. There was a beat of silence, and then she spat, “All right, Mr. Cleverclaws. You think you’ve got it all figured out. But did it ever occur to you that I might be betraying him? That he wouldn’t have wanted me to take the Obsidian Mirror? That I might really want to destroy him and take over the Scorpion Den with you at my side?”

With you at my side. My only true dragonet.

Qibli forced bands of steel around his heart.

“Yes, I did think of that,” he said to her, “but somehow, the idea that you’re even untrustworthy to your own father didn’t convince me to trust you more.”

I wanted to, Mother. I’ve always wanted to. Vulture knew exactly how to mess with me.

But he underestimated how much I’ve learned from Queen Thorn — and how much stronger my friends have made me. He glanced at Winter, who was watching with an expression that said he’d had his doubts about Cobra, too.

“Take her to the dungeon,” Thorn said to the guards. “Lock her in the cell next to the mad prisoner. They can keep each other company for a while.”

Cobra shrieked with rage as they dragged her away, and Qibli tried not to imagine that alternate universe where he played along with her games and got to be her favorite for just a moment longer.

“Did you say the Obsidian Mirror?” Thorn said to him. “The one Sunny left in the desert and couldn’t find again after the war?”

Qibli flicked his tail at the eerie oval that looked as if it was made of black glass. “Vulture’s had it for the last several months.”

“Well, that’s … horrifying,” said Thorn.

“I know, but now you can use it to check on Glacier,” Qibli suggested.

Winter’s head snapped up. “Glacier?” he said. “Why? What? Why do you need to spy on Queen Glacier?”

“We’re not spying,” Qibli said. He watched the mirror carefully as it was placed in Thorn’s claws. “We think she’s in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” Winter hurried over and stared at the mirror. One of the moons was reflected in it, thin and sharp like a silver claw, with the torches’ firelight crackling around the edges.

“Let’s see if I can remember how Sunny described this,” said the queen, closing her eyes and thinking for a moment. “Um.” She held the mirror close to her mouth and whispered, “Queen Glacier of the IceWings,” then squinted at it. After a moment of nothing happening, she nodded as if remembering something and breathed a plume of smoke across the dark surface.

The smoke curled into four separate tendrils, all in shades of pale blue and white. One, the largest, was in the center, with the other three clustered around it.

“She’s getting worse,” whispered one of the tendrils, making Qibli jump.

“She hasn’t woken up since midday,” whispered another.

“What do we do?” The third one twisted anxiously in little smoke-knots. “Narwhal is too sick to take charge and —” She broke off into a coughing spell that tore at Qibli’s heart. He wished he could reach right into the mirror and hold her lungs together for her.

He looked up and saw a horrorstruck expression on Winter’s face. Did he recognize one of the voices? Or — she’d mentioned someone called Narwhal. That had to be a member of the royal family … perhaps even Winter’s father, Qibli guessed.

“Everyone’s too sick to take charge,” said the first in a small, sad voice.

“Should we send for help?” said the second, starting to cough as well. “Is anyone well enough to make it to the Kingdom of Sand?”

“Poor Glacier,” Thorn said softly. “You were right, Qibli. It’s hit all the IceWings in Pyrrhia.”

“What is wrong with them?” Winter cried. “Why are they all sick? How did you know?” He whirled toward Qibli, then Queen Thorn. His tail spikes rattled frantically. “Is that supposed to be the queen?” He poked his claw at the still, solemn tendril of smoke in the center. “Queen Glacier is sick?”

“All the IceWings are,” Qibli said. “I’m sorry, Winter, but —”

“I’m going to save them,” Winter said fiercely. “I know what to do.” He spread his wings and crouched to take flight.

Qibli barreled into him, knocking the IceWing prince to the ground.

“Hey!” Winter shouted.

“Help me!” Qibli yelled at the closest Outclaws. “Pin him down!”

“Don’t you dare!” Winter roared at them with such commanding authority that for a moment they all hesitated. “Qibli, get off! I have to tell Darkstalker! He can save them!”

That’s exactly what I can’t let you do, Qibli thought. “Hold him down!” he shouted at the Outclaws again.

Three SandWings agreeably piled on, sitting on Winter’s wings and tail so he couldn’t go anywhere. Winter roared again with frustration.

“Qibli, I’m going to kill you for this!” he bellowed. “I have to help my queen! Darkstalker’s magic can save all of them!”

“You idiot!” Qibli shouted in his ear as Winter thrashed and kicked. “Darkstalker did this! He sent the plague to the IceWings! The war with your tribe isn’t thousands of years ago to him — in his mind, it just happened. This is his revenge!”

One of Winter’s serrated claws caught Qibli’s side, leaving a long bloody scratch. Qibli jumped back with a yelp of pain, but Winter didn’t seem to notice what he’d done. “You’re wrong,” he growled. “Darkstalker is a good, noble dragon! He’s going to lead us all into a bright and wonderful future! And he can save my tribe, so get off me and let me go find him!”

“I don’t think you’re going to convince him,” Thorn said to Qibli.

“I’m not,” Qibli said. “I’m going to fix him.” He drew another earring out of his bag and brandished it like a weapon.

“Three moons,” said Typhoon. “You SandWings are a little intense about your jewelry.”

“No!” Winter shouted as Qibli approached. “I said no! No spells!”

“You’re already under a spell!” Qibli argued. “This will put your brain back the way it’s supposed to be, Winter, I promise.”

“You stay away from my brain!” Winter hissed. “I swear if you put that on me, I will hurt you.”

“I have to,” Qibli said. “When you’re yourself again, you’ll see that Darkstalker is behind this, and then I can help you save your tribe.”

“You?” Winter snorted. “You don’t have magic. You’re completely ordinary. How could you save anyone?”

That cut deeper than Winter probably realized. Stung, Qibli yelled, “I would have magic and we wouldn’t have any of these problems if you hadn’t been a complete slug about Darkstalker’s scroll!” He seized Winter’s head and jabbed the earring at his ear.

Winter twisted out of his grasp and fired a blast of frostbreath that slammed right into Qibli’s arm.

For a moment, the freezing pain shocked Qibli into paralysis. It hurt so much, so instantly, like his arm had been severed, and then, almost more frightening, his arm went numb and he couldn’t feel anything anymore.

A second later, Thorn was there, seizing Winter’s snout, holding it shut, and pinning down his head. She grabbed the earring from Qibli and thrust it briskly through one of the holes in Winter’s right ear.

There was a long tense pause. Suddenly Winter went limp. His whole body collapsed to the ground under the SandWing soldiers, all the fight drained out of him.

“Get the doctors!” Queen Thorn was shouting, somewhere far away from Qibli. No, wait, she was still right in front of him — but the whole world was fading back, further and further, with hazy blackness marching in from all sides.

“I’m sorry, Qibli,” she said, taking his talons gently to examine the frostbitten scales on his arm. “I had no idea he’d do that. I thought he was your friend.”

“He is,” Qibli managed. Through the haze he saw Winter lift his head and look at Qibli wonderingly. “He’s a good … a hero-ish guy … friend …” He felt the world pull away as the pain swept back in. “It was just a spell,” he whispered.

“We’ll fix it, Qibli, you hear me?” Thorn said. “They’re bringing water and hot coals now. Don’t you pass out, you sand snorter! Qibli! Your queen is giving you an order!”

“Earrings,” Qibli said, or tried to say, or said too loud, he wasn’t sure. “For all the IceWings, we have to …” and then everything faded to black.