The next morning dawned gray and drizzly, but at least the pouring rain had moved out along with the apocalyptic thunder. One half of Cricket was cold and damp when she woke up, but the side that had been pressed to Blue while they slept was warm.

He was still asleep, like a small sunlit ocean between her and Swordtail. She put on her glasses and looked up at the thick silk web over them, and then around for Sundew, who was gone.

Carefully Cricket disentangled her tail from Blue’s and slid away from his wings. He murmured a sleepy complaint and rolled closer to Swordtail, who grunted and flung one wing over him.

The silk web overhead was part of a vast canopy that covered all the stalls of the outer bazaar — the lowlier shops that had spilled out of the Hive when the Glitterbazaar got too big. It wasn’t great to have your stall outside the Hive during the rainy season, but at least the canopy helped keep the wares mostly dry.

They’d hidden overnight in the musty-smelling back corners of a curtain shop, burrowing in between rolls of aquamarine and silver silk. Cricket crawled out of the fabric pile and ducked into the main stall. A web hung over the doorway, keeping out most of the dim morning light, but a flamesilk lamp glowed softly in one corner. Sundew was stretching in the tiny space.

“Morning,” Cricket said. She sidled up and joined Sundew’s series of exercises, like she had each morning in the cave. It was a little harder here, trying to keep her wings from colliding with Sundew’s.

“When do the dragons come?” Sundew asked, finishing her last stretch. She peeked out through the door web at the Hive, looming in the mist.

“Jewel Hive sleeps late,” Cricket said apologetically. “The balls sometimes go all night. We won’t see many HiveWings before midday. Are all LeafWings early risers, like you?”

“Some of them. This market must open sooner, though.” Sundew checked back in the other direction, along the path through the stalls. “Aren’t some of these places run by SilkWings?”

“Most of the ones on the outside are,” Cricket said, nodding. “We should find what we need now and then blend in with the crowd once it’s busy enough.”

Sundew cast a wicked smile at the back of the shop. “I’ll wake the others!” she volunteered, bounding away.

A moment later, Cricket heard Swordtail yelp, “Ow! Unnecessary!” followed by the unusual sound of Sundew laughing.

Cricket took a moment to peer out into the market as well. She’d walked through it with Katydid once, but she didn’t know the layout at all. Was there an order to the stalls? Were they organized together by category of item they sold, or scattered wherever they’d happened to land?

From what she knew of Jewel Hive, she’d guess scattered, and she’d also guess that there wasn’t a map anywhere in the market, if one had ever even been made. Lady Jewel wasn’t exactly known for keeping her subjects organized.

Which is good for us. This is probably the Hive where we have the best chance of going unnoticed, between the chaos of the dragons who live here and the undisciplined guards.

Then again, there wasn’t really anywhere they could go unnoticed if Queen Wasp decided to take over the eyes of every dragon in Pantala.

But it had been five days since Luna and Blue escaped the flamesilk cavern. Cricket was hoping the search for them might have quieted down, at least a little bit.

Blue and Swordtail emerged from the back of the stall, yawning, with Sundew behind them looking mischievously pleased.

“You really take an unholy amount of pleasure in ripping happy dragons out of their peaceful slumbers,” Swordtail said to her.

“It’s the best part of my day,” she said. “A little tiny bit of vengeance every morning.”

Blue’s expression went slightly trancelike, as though he’d slipped into a cloud of trying to imagine what it was like to be Sundew.

“We should hurry,” Cricket whispered. “I’m not sure how long we have before the first SilkWings arrive — and I don’t know how long it’ll take to find what we want in this place. It’s bigger than I remember.”

They ducked under the door web and Cricket led the way along the narrow, cluttered paths of the market. All the stalls had their door webs or curtains lowered, but it was easy to tell what they sold by the merchandise that spilled over the edges and hung from the frames. The group passed an instrument stall with zebra-hide drums and curved black metal harps. The next had a sign listing a selection of fruit juices, and the one after that featured curious flamesilk lanterns (without the flamesilk) shaped like snails or leopards or birds in flight.

Totally disorganized, Cricket thought. Each stall dropped wherever the shop owner could grab a space under the canopy. It was unhelpful for their search, but also kind of wonderfully free. Everything in Cicada Hive was regimented and orderly in a way that Cricket had never quite fit into. She wondered if her life would have been easier growing up in Jewel Hive. She also wondered how her inflexible mother could stand it.

“Oh, there!” she cried, spotting a flare of bright silk poking out under a curtain. They hurried over and she pushed through into the dark stall. Her eyes adjusted slowly. There were no flamesilk lamps in here, or at least, if there were, they were empty. Cricket squinted at the silk draped and folded on the shelves. It was hard to see any colors or details with the outer stall curtains down.

“Here,” Blue whispered. He held out one talon, and a small twist of silk spiraled out of his wrist onto his palm. It glowed there like a miniature comet caught in his claws, lighting up the room.

“So cool.” Swordtail leaned toward it and Blue moved it out of his reach.

“Careful. This will burn. I’m the only one who can touch it safely.”

“Flamesilk doesn’t burn you?” Cricket asked, surprised. “Even the kind in the lanterns?” How had she missed that in her reading?

“My dad said it wouldn’t, after my Metamorphosis.” Blue lifted the light toward the ceiling so it illuminated all the colors around them. “And this is the kind in the lanterns.”

“So be careful with it,” Sundew said. “Or else you’ll set this whole place on fire. And maybe the Hive, too,” she added thoughtfully. “On second thought, go ahead and wave it around.”

Cricket realized a few moments later that she should have been appalled by that joke, but she was distracted by the thought of how much she didn’t know about flamesilk. She wished she could stop for a day to investigate all the different kinds of flamesilk Blue could make now and what they could each do.

But we only have until sunset tomorrow to stop a new war. Fascinating scientific experiments would have to wait.

“I think this is what we want,” she said, tugging a waterfall of sunflower-yellow silk off the wall. She flung it over Sundew’s shoulders. The LeafWing was the one who’d stand out the most of all of them. Her forest-green scales might pass for a SilkWing’s at a glance, but those two wings screamed “LEAFWING! ARREST ME!”

The silk draped along Sundew’s back and halfway down her tail, covering her wings and most of her body. Sundew twisted her neck to give it a suspicious look.

“What is this?” she asked. “What self-respecting dragon would wear something that would tangle up their wings like this?”

“It’s a cape,” Cricket said patiently, tying the ribbons around Sundew’s neck and arranging the folds to cover her shoulders. “My mother thought they were very fashionable last time I saw her.”

“Oh, good, a dragon we already know has excellent judgment,” Sundew muttered.

“If you keep your wings folded in close,” Swordtail said, squinting at her, “and nobody accidentally pulls it off or peeks underneath … I’m still not sure it’ll work.”

“Could a SilkWing afford something like this?” Blue asked, touching one of the garments with his free talon. “And she doesn’t have antennae.”

“Also, it’s a little bright,” Sundew said. “If I must wear something ridiculous, I’d prefer it in black or dark green or midnight blue if absolutely necessary.”

“Nope,” Cricket said, swatting Sundew’s talons away from the nearest dark-colored silk. “In Jewel Hive, everyone is devoted to bright colors, lots of jewels, accessories everywhere. That’s the only reason I think we have a chance of sneaking in. It’s hard to notice anyone if everyone is trying to stand out … unless we slink around in black, looking boring. We have to match the glamour around us.”

“Even the SilkWings?” Blue asked.

“Yes,” Cricket said. “There’s an ongoing competition here for who can hire the prettiest SilkWing. Some of them don’t even have to do anything except sit in parlors and windows and porches and balconies being beautiful.”

Swordtail growled softly. “Dragons as decoration.”

“Maybe some of them like it?” Blue offered. “It sounds easier than smashing and remolding treestuff all day.”

“It sounds mind-numbing,” Sundew snorted. “You couldn’t pay me to have a bunch of HiveWings stare at me all day long.”

Cricket privately agreed with her. She could only imagine sitting still for that long if she had a really interesting book to read.

“Well, sorry, that’s what you have to be for today,” Cricket said. “A very fancy SilkWing.” She turned back to the other silks, wishing she knew how much detail Queen Wasp had given out in the search for them. Did they all have to wear wing-covering capes? Were veils still in fashion? Cricket knew almost nothing about accessories; they were frowned upon at Terrarium Academy.

She found two smaller capes for Swordtail and Blue, in matching shades of rose gold with sparkling indigo beetles embroidered all over them. Her hope was to have them all look so bright and busy that no one’s eyes would be able to completely land on them — or notice the scales underneath.

“These are kind of cool,” Blue said, sliding a basket over to her. Inside were several translucent scarves and arm sheaths woven with glittering black markings.

“Oh, wow,” Cricket said, pulling one over her forearm. It looked like the glittering markings were part of her scales, as though she had extra lines and zigzags of black over and around her natural inkblot patches. If she wore several of these on her legs, tail, and neck, she would look more like a black dragon with spots of yellow and orange than vice versa, which would hopefully make it harder to recognize her. She pulled out a few more and started putting them on.

“How are we going to pay for all this?” Blue asked.

“You eternally sweet idiot,” Swordtail said, poking him in the side. “We’re already on the run from the law, remember? So who cares if we steal a few capes? We can’t get in any more trouble than we already are.”

Blue winced. “I know. But that’s not … it’s just, some dragon worked hard on all this, and they probably need the money for their family. It’s wrong to steal from them.”

“Oh … that,” Swordtail said with a sigh.

“Well, I hope someone’s hiding a small fortune under one of your wings, then,” Sundew said wryly.

“I guess we could leave those two yams I dug up yesterday,” Swordtail said with a wistful expression.

“Your cape is probably worth a hundred yams,” Cricket admitted.

“WHAT?” Swordtail protested. “This silly thing? It doesn’t even do anything! Why’s it so expensive? Is it edible?”

“How much is flamesilk worth?” Blue asked. “Could I leave them this?” He held out the strand of fire.

Cricket hesitated. “Yes … flamesilk is pretty expensive. That would cover all of this, I think, especially since it’s brand-new and should last them a whole moon cycle. But, Blue, someone will figure out it had to be you who left it, don’t you think? Who else would have bright new flamesilk like that?”

“Maybe someone ordered it from Wasp Hive, like your school librarian does,” Blue said. “It feels like the right thing to do.”

“Arrgh, you are such a SilkWing,” Sundew groaned. “This is the worst idea. It’s basically leaving evidence behind.”

“No one will guess it’s from the little dragonet who ran away from Cicada Hive,” Blue said. He slipped the strand into the lantern on the ceiling, and light filled the stall. “It could have come from any early morning customer.” He paused and rubbed his wrists with a small smile. “It’s kind of awesome knowing I have something everyone needs. I could give it away to anyone, anytime I want.”

“Or,” Swordtail observed, “you could set your enemies on fire anytime you want.”

Sundew pointed one claw at Swordtail. “You,” she said, “are growing on me.”

Blue shook his head and met Cricket’s eyes with a faintly sick expression. She guessed he was trying to imagine being a dragon who could set another living creature on fire, and that it was beyond his abilities. She brushed one of his wings with hers. I like you as you are, the dragon who gifts fire to those who need it.

“This stall is just silk,” Cricket said, glancing around. “Come on, we need some jewelry, too.”

“Jeeeeeewwwwwwwelry,” Sundew complained. But even she had to admit, a little while later in a shrouded jewelry stall, that the long necklaces of little gold leaves Cricket found were kind of cool and she’d maybe be all right with wearing just one of them.

She was less pleased with Cricket’s other discovery, the thing Cricket had really been looking for: a gold-and-jade headdress with so many points and squiggles and sparkles that it hid the fact that Sundew had no antennae. The LeafWing carried on as though Cricket was attaching actual snakes to her head, but the end result was quite dazzling and entirely distracting.

“This is the WORST,” Sundew grumbled, glaring into a mirror. “Wil — my tribe would fall over laughing at me right now.”

“I’m sure they’d understand that sometimes you have to sacrifice your dignity for a higher purpose,” Swordtail joked.

Sundew swatted at him and he darted out of the way.

In the same stall, they found bejeweled head coverings for Blue and Swordtail that hung like masks of dewdrops around their eyes, and a bright blue veil-shawl-tiara-thing that mostly hid Cricket’s face and glasses, plus was also gaudy enough that Sundew was a little mollified.

“At least I’m not the only one who looks like an exploding peony,” she said, surveying the others.

“I’m surprised these are allowed,” Blue said to Cricket, trailing his claws along the dangling leaves that ornamented a row of bracelets. “I would have thought leaves fit under the rules against trees.”

“Maybe in Cicada Hive. Lady Jewel allows her dragons to fly a little closer to the edges of the rules than most Hive leaders,” Cricket pointed out.

“What rules against trees?” Sundew asked sharply.

“We, um.” Blue faltered under her outraged glare. “We’re forbidden to put any trees in our art. No tree sculptures, no trees in the background of our paintings.”

“No planting trees in our terrariums,” Cricket said, thinking wistfully of her secret little tree, back at school. Would anyone take care of it now that she was gone? “Some fruit trees are allowed in the greenhouses, but only with special permission and strictly under supervision by Queen Wasp. No tree planting or anything that might make a tree grow in the savanna.”

Sundew picked up a rope of pearls, wound it around her front talons, and snapped the cord with one violent tug. Pearls flew everywhere, clattering over the countertops.

“Let’s go,” she growled at Cricket. With a whirl of her saffron silk cape, she stalked out into the market.

“Whoa,” Swordtail said, looking up from a basket of turquoise earrings near the back of the stall. “Did she just get even angrier, or did I imagine that?”

“Definitely angrier,” Cricket said. “I don’t know why, though. Do you, Blue?”

“I think … I think maybe erasing trees even from our art is like Queen Wasp trying to wipe out the LeafWings all over again,” Blue said. “I mean, maybe that’s how it feels to Sundew.”

“I never thought of it like that,” Cricket said. She’d always thought it was a silly rule; trees were just another plant, and plants were useful for lots of things, and why not have more if they could? She’d never seen them as a symbol of the long-gone LeafWings, but now she realized that Queen Wasp must think of them that way.

Blue left three little coils of flamesilk in a stone vase on the counter and ducked outside with Swordtail. As Cricket started to follow them, she heard a small clattering sound behind her.

Probably a mouse, she told herself, but she edged back toward the counter with her heart thumping. If there was another dragon in here, who’d seen them putting on their disguises, or Blue creating flamesilk from his wrists …

The baskets of jewelry behind the counter were still and quiet. Nobody could possibly be hiding back there; there weren’t any corners or shadows big enough for a dragon.

But then something moved — something darted from one basket to another. Something smaller than a dragon, but bigger than a mouse. Something with dark fur and swift paws.

A reading monkey!

I really need a better name for them.

Cricket leaned over the counter, staring at the basket where it had disappeared. A long moment passed, and then a small head poked out and stared back at her. Alert brown eyes. A sweet face, narrower than a monkey’s and furless except for the top of its head.

“Don’t be afraid,” Cricket said softly. “I just want to know what you are.”

The creature gazed at her. Was that curiosity in its eyes? Did it want to understand her, too?

“Cricket!” Swordtail shouted, sticking his head back into the stall. The little animal jumped and vanished behind the baskets. “Dragons are coming from the Hive!”

Oh, why couldn’t I have found one of you before all this started happening? Cricket cast one last longing look at the creature’s hiding spot and then turned to hurry outside.

Swordtail was right. Dragons were starting to spill out of the Hive’s doors and flying ledges, swooping off into the sky or down toward the market. Jewel Hive was waking up for the day, or at least its SilkWings were.

The tricky part was keeping out of sight until the market was relatively crowded. They managed by moving between stalls and staying in the corners of the ones Cricket guessed were run by HiveWings, and so more likely to open later. There was a close call with a SilkWing who was sweeping behind the tents, but soon the narrow pathways were full of dragons.

Cricket breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been right about Jewel Hive; her memories hadn’t failed her. Everyone wore bright colors and piles of gemstones. Capes swirled beside wings everywhere and headdresses glittered from half of the heads around them. Even the SilkWings who swept the streets had adornments in their ears or silk scarves around their necks.

They edged through the crowd, making their way slowly toward the Hive. Cricket tried to look as though she was shopping, pausing to examine the merchandise here and there, smiling faintly at the stall owners who tried to lure her inside.

She was the only HiveWing in the group, so most dragons would assume the other three were her SilkWing servants. It was weird and uncomfortable to have them trailing behind her, heads down. It made her feel guilty to think about how many times she’d walked past their own SilkWing cook without saying hello or taken the SilkWing workers at the market for granted.

She wished Sundew could lead the way. She wished Blue could walk alongside her, wing to wing, so she could laugh with him and talk to him and let everyone know he was wonderful and just as important and interesting and valuable as any HiveWing dragon in Pantala.

But she kept up her part, acting like any other self-absorbed, fashion-obsessed HiveWing in Jewel Hive. Soon the main doors of the Hive were ahead of them, swarming with dragons coming in and out of the central Glitterbazaar, which occupied the bottom three levels of the city. All the windows were open to let in the sun, and the streets and stalls ahead of them shone like a shattered frozen rainbow.

Behind her, Sundew cleared her throat meaningfully. Cricket glanced around and noticed the HiveWing guards posted on either side of the doors. They wore sleek black armor and helmets that hid their faces, but Cricket guessed that the eyes glaring through the little slits would be dead white.

Cricket felt a shiver of terrified despair.

Queen Wasp was watching. Queen Wasp was everywhere. At the entrance to every Hive, flying patrols over the savanna, inside every HiveWing if she wanted to be.

How could they possibly hope to sneak by her? How could they ever escape, when her gaze and her fury could follow them wherever they went?

The closest guard turned his head sharply toward them.