“Don’t look at them. Don’t react,” Sundew whispered fiercely, stepping on Cricket’s tail. Cricket turned toward her with what she hoped was a lofty HiveWing expression. This had the added benefit of curving her head away from the guard who was staring at them.

“It’s all so boring,” Cricket said in the high, slow way that Jewel Hive dragons often talked. “I feel like I’ve seen everything a million times. Where’s the originality, I mean, yawn.”

“You should try Raindrop Scales,” a HiveWing beside her in the crowd interjected unexpectedly. “They’re only open during the rainy season so everything feels brand-new! I love them. Have you heard of Pinacate? She’s the owner and the designer. She has a trillion innovative ideas every year; it’s incredible. I wish I were that creative!”

“Wow, really? I don’t think I’ve been there,” Cricket said, surprised into using her real voice. The stranger was a summer-squash-yellow color with flecks of red and black scales and black wings, but she’d covered herself with webs of garnets and what Cricket guessed were fake diamonds, since there were so many of them. A long sea-green silk scarf was wound around her neck and body, all the way down her tail, pinned together with an enormous dragonfly brooch on her back.

“It’s right by the Salvation Statue,” the other dragon confided. “Very expensive, though. I must admit I often go there for ideas and then see if I can find someone to imitate them. Don’t tell.” She giggled in a warm, friendly way.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Cricket said, smiling back at her.

But the reverse would not be true, she thought with a twinge of anxiety. The HiveWing was all smiles and stories now, but if this dragon discovered that Cricket was a fugitive, wouldn’t she turn her in immediately? Or, even if she understood and wanted to help them, she wouldn’t be able to, because at any moment Queen Wasp could steal her mind. This other HiveWing could never choose to run away like Cricket had; she could never be free of the queen. She didn’t have the choice to think for herself.

She’d helped them inadvertently, though. Cricket snuck a sideways peek at the guards. The one who’d looked over must have seen two HiveWings gossiping and lost interest; he was now staring attentively at the movement of birds on the canopy.

“Thank you very much,” Cricket said to the yellow dragon as they stepped inside. “I mean — um, for the recommendation.”

“Maybe I’ll see you there!” the HiveWing chirped. She waved and bustled away.

The walls around them were weirdly both comforting and claustrophobic. Cricket was so used to living in a Hive, with walls around her all the time. And yet she found her scales prickling anxiously, her eyes wishing for the sky overhead.

It’s not the walls that are bothering me, she acknowledged to herself. It’s the dragons inside them.

“She seemed really nice,” Blue whispered as they wound their way toward the center of the market.

“For a HiveWing,” Sundew scoffed.

“She did seem nice,” Cricket agreed, keeping her voice low. “That’s the kind of dragon I’m talking about, Sundew. What would she do if the queen didn’t control her? I mean — if she knew the truth about everything — the flamesilks, the Book of Clearsight — and she didn’t have the queen in her head, making her do things and messing with her thoughts. Then could we trust her? Maybe she would try to help us.”

“Like you,” Blue said. “Maybe she’d be like you. Maybe a lot of them wish they could be free.”

“Doubtful,” Sundew said. “Everything is easy for HiveWings like her. Why would she risk her own happy life?”

“Yeah,” Swordtail said fervently. “HiveWings don’t care about anyone but themselves.”

Cricket flinched, and Blue frowned at Swordtail. “That’s really unfair, Swordtail. You don’t know what’s going on in their hearts. The only HiveWing you know well is Cricket, and she cares a lot.”

But I care because of you, Cricket thought, watching him. I might never have known any of this, if it wasn’t for you.

“I know plenty,” Swordtail grumbled under his breath.

“I think Cricket is different from all the others,” Sundew said. There was something in her voice … as though she needed to convince herself that was true.

“Maybe not. What do you think, Cricket? Are there any other HiveWings who are … who can’t be … I mean, whose brains are like yours?” Blue asked Cricket, glancing around nervously.

“Not that I’ve ever met,” Cricket said. “But we wouldn’t exactly introduce ourselves that way, so how would I know?” She thought of that first day she’d seen everyone’s eyes go white. “There was one dragon long ago; I think he was trying to fight it. But the queen used everyone in the Hive to catch him and bring him to her. I don’t know what happened to him, but I’d guess he’s not available for interviews.”

Blue shivered, and she brushed his wing, trying to be as reassuring as she could be in public. The dragons around them were so loud and moving so quickly that she didn’t think they’d notice anything beyond the bargains in their talons, but still. They had to be careful, for Blue’s sake.

“Is that the Salvation Statue?” Swordtail whispered.

Cricket craned her neck up and spotted the head of the dragon that loomed over the center of the Glitterbazaar. It wasn’t the real Queen Wasp, but the details of the stonework were so accurate that Cricket half expected the statue to suddenly twist around and glare at her.

But it didn’t. The stone queen stayed frozen in place, wings flung out triumphantly, one talon holding up the Book of Clearsight.

Cricket stumbled, suddenly remembering the rest of the statue that commemorated the end of the war. The marble dragon that lay dead below the queen’s other talons, with one of her deadly wrist stingers plunged through his heart. She’d never stopped for a moment to think about that dragon, because he wasn’t anyone in particular. He was just “the enemy.” He was a blank nobody representing the tribe who’d been defeated and exterminated when the HiveWings “saved” the SilkWings from them.

He was a LeafWing.

She glanced back at Sundew. “I should have warned you,” she said quietly. “This could be upsetting.”

“Don’t worry, HiveWing,” Sundew muttered, twitching her cape closer around her shoulders. “I’m at full rage all the time. It can’t get worse.”

“All the time?” Blue said wonderingly. “Really? Don’t you get tired?”

“Yes,” she growled. “And that makes me furious, too.”

They stepped out of the crowd into the space around the statue. Like the Salvation Mosaic in Cicada Hive, this monument was also set apart from its surroundings. A tranquil circle of grass surrounded it, strangely peaceful in the chaotic bustle of the market. Cricket noticed that most of the shopping dragons carefully went around the circle to avoid treading on the grass, unless they were going up to admire the statue.

It was really extraordinary, twice the size of any actual dragons, and carved from stone quarried in the northwest mountains of Pantala. An enormous ruby glinted from each of the queen’s eye sockets, and gold letters were inlaid on the cover of the marble Book of Clearsight.

But the real book doesn’t look anything like that, Cricket thought, gazing up at the fake book. It’s not shiny or enormous; it doesn’t have a title emblazoned on it. It’s not what’s on the outside of the Book that counts; it’s what’s on the inside, and that’s the part Queen Wasp has been lying about to everyone.

She glanced at the outline of the heavy pouch under Sundew’s cloak. We should make a copy of it, in case anything happens to it. But if anything did happen to it … who would believe us that the copy was real?

Swordtail was circling the statue, frowning and fiddling anxiously with his jeweled mask.

“Well?” Sundew hissed as he returned to them.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I don’t see a place to leave a message that wouldn’t immediately be seen. What would you do?”

“Knock it over,” she muttered. “Smash it to pieces with my bare talons. Throw the broken rock chunks at everyone in this Hive.” But she stalked forward and studied the statue with sharp eyes.

“Are you all right?” Blue whispered to Cricket.

“Me?” she said, startled. “Sure. I don’t know … this statue makes me feel so guilty now. And the Book is all wrong. I wish dragons could read the real version.”

He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about Clearsight,” he said softly. “She wouldn’t want a war or this life for her descendants or for the other two tribes. But I don’t know how we’re going to help everyone. We’re just four normal little dragons.”

“I know,” Cricket agreed. “Well, three normal little dragons and one vengeful warrior dragon with an arsenal of terrifying bugs.”

Sundew had paused near one corner of the statue’s base. She turned casually and met Cricket’s eyes. Swordtail stepped toward her and she poked him backward, tipping her head to beckon Cricket to her. There were only two other dragons on the grass circle with them: a father with a small dragonet, who were sitting on the far side of the statue, sharing a lemon pastry and talking about the story of the Salvation.

“What is it?” Cricket whispered.

Sundew cut her gaze toward the very bottom of the stone slab, where the corner met the grass. A tiny shard of stone was missing, leaving a small gap between the base and the ground.

Something pale green was shoved into the gap.

Cricket realized that Sundew had angled herself to shield Cricket from view of anyone passing in the marketplace. She reached down and quickly tugged the something free.

It was a leaf, folded into a square. Unfolded, a message was revealed, inked across the veins on the inside.

Midnight. Library. 5.

Her heart thumping wildly, Cricket refolded the leaf and slid it back into place. She didn’t know what the “5” meant, but the rest seemed pretty clear.

“I think we have a way to find the Chrysalis,” she said to Sundew under her breath. “And I think I know where we can hide until then.”