Moon Rising (24 page)

He’s right,
Darkstalker said.
Handing her over leads to very few paths where Sora is alive two months from now. But otherwise you’re letting a killer go free.

You hinted at this once, didn’t you?
Moon thought, remembering.
Send a friend to her death, or help a killer escape. You meant Sora.

“We’ll leave now,” Umber said. “I’ll go with her. I’ll keep her safe.”
And keep everyone else safe from her,
his mind finished the thought.

“But then you’ll be a fugitive, too,” Sora said. “And what about Marsh?”

“Clay will get him back to Reed and Pheasant,” Umber said. He turned to Qibli. “Please tell Clay everything — tell him we’re sorry — I know he’ll understand. But if we involve him, the queens will shut down the school. We have to leave without saying good-bye.” Umber blinked back tears.

Should we stop them?
Qibli was thinking.
What’s the right thing to do? What would Thorn do? Sora’s not well and I don’t want her to be killed — but she did kill Carnelian and Bigtail — and tried to kill Icicle. But she needs to be taken care of — and where does the cycle end? If Icicle kills Sora, wouldn’t Umber or Marsh be justified in killing her? And then wouldn’t Winter want to kill them? Isn’t the whole point that the war is supposed to be over? Replacing it with a series of vengeance killings is not going to make the world any better or safer.

And then Moon heard Icicle’s thoughts, coming closer and closer.

She made up her mind. “Go,” she said, stepping toward the window, a tall open hole big enough for a dragonet Sora’s size to squeeze through. “As fast and as far as you can.”

“Thank you,” Sora whispered. She squeezed Umber’s talons and darted toward the window. At the edge, she turned to look back at Moon. “It was self-defense, too. Beware of Icicle, Moon. She talks about killing all the time, even in her sleep.”

“What does she say?” Moon asked.

“Our very first night here,” Sora said, “when I still wasn’t sure — I was almost sure it was her, but I thought I must be mad, and I couldn’t let myself sleep because what if she did the same thing to me that she did to Crane? And then in her sleep, she muttered, ‘Killing is easy enough.’ That’s when I knew. She’s a murderer and she won’t stop until someone does what I failed to do.”

“Let’s go, Sora,” Umber said sadly.

Qibli stepped forward and twined his tail around Umber’s for a moment. Moon felt Umber’s longing and heartbreak and loyalty like a physical pain in her chest. He leaned forward to give Qibli a quick hug, and then Moon, and then he scrambled up after his sister.

A heartbeat later, they were gone, two small shapes winging away into the dark clouds.

Moon turned to Qibli, realization dawning.

“Icicle is the one conspiring with Queen Scarlet,” she said.

Killing is easy enough.
Moon had heard those exact words in the first dreamvisitor conversation.

She noticed that the violent blizzard of Icicle’s mind had veered off; she wasn’t thinking about just Sora anymore. She was thinking about the caves where Sunny, Clay, Tsunami, and Starflight lived.

“We have to hurry,” Moon said. “She may not get to kill Sora — but that’s not the only dragon she promised to kill today.”

Moon and Qibli ran through the winding tunnels of Jade Mountain. Dragons jumped out of the way and stared at them as they shot past; Moon caught flashes of
What’s happening?
and
Was there another fire?
and
Should I be running, too?
and
Oi, SandWing, watch it with that tail.
She thought she saw Winter looking out of one of the caves they passed but didn’t slow down to check.

Moon, stop. You can’t do this. I have to stop you,
Darkstalker said.
This is not wise. It’s not safe. I can’t let you confront Icicle. There are so many ways in which it goes horribly wrong —

Like she kills me?
Moon asked.
Are there possibilities where she doesn’t kill me?

Ye-es, but they’re faint — Moon, I can’t lose you —

I can’t sit by and do nothing,
she answered back.
While Icicle kills somebody? Somebody who might change the future of this world? Look into those futures, Darkstalker. Without Sunny or Starflight, Clay or Tsunami, isn’t the world a darker place? If this school fails, how soon are the tribes back at war?

He was silent for a long moment.
I see your point. But the world without you in it is also much diminished, Moon.

Really?
She couldn’t imagine that was true.

Let Qibli go stop her on his own,
Darkstalker suggested.

Can he do that and survive?
she asked.
Honestly?

Hmmm,
he said.
Maybe a one in three hundred chance.

Not good enough,
she said.
I need to be there.

For him to survive?
Darkstalker sighed.
Yes. You do.

She tried not to be terrified by this reminder that she was running toward her own death; she tried to just focus on the distant echo of Icicle. Where was the IceWing going? The rage was clear enough, but her surroundings were not. Moon concentrated and heard
Not here … not here …

“They’re not in their sleeping quarters,” she said between gasping breaths. “She has to look for them somewhere else.”

“She could have killed Clay in the prey center,” Qibli pointed out. “So why didn’t she?”

“I think — I think she didn’t want to do it in front of Winter,” Moon said, stopping and pressing on her temples. “And Clay is the biggest. Maybe she wants to kill off the easiest ones first. Sunny?”

“Sunny’s not that easy to kill,” said Qibli.

“Starflight,” they both said at the same time, and whirled to race to the library.

Icicle got there first.

Moon and Qibli burst in to find her silently creeping up on Starflight. Her lethally sharp claws were outstretched and her jaw was moving, calling up the deadly IceWing frostbreath. When she saw them, her eyes widened and flicked from them to Starflight and back. The blind NightWing was crouched in a corner, sorting scrolls by touching the stamps on the edges, but he raised his head in Moon’s direction.

“Starflight, look out!” Qibli shouted.

Icicle leapt forward and landed on Starflight’s back. He yelled with pain, and she wrenched him around so his body was between her and the others. Her talons wrapped around his throat and her wings pinned his to his sides.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she hissed.

There’s a window right behind her,
Qibli thought.
If she realizes that, she could kill him and jump out before we could stop her. But right now she thinks she needs him as leverage so we’ll let her go. We’ll have to distract her so I can attack. Too dangerous this way; I might hit Starflight with my tail instead of her. Search for weaknesses. Get closer if I can.

“Please don’t kill him,” Moon said, holding out her claws. “Just let him live and we won’t stop you — you can leave, go wherever you want.”

“I promise,” Starflight said, his voice hoarse with fear. “You won’t have done anything wrong, Icicle. You can still go home now, but if you kill me, Queen Glacier might not take you back.”

Is he right?
Icicle wondered.
She might appreciate a reason to get rid of me so I’m not a threat to her or her daughters. But if I succeed and Scarlet gives me what I’ve been promised, I’ll return home a hero, no matter who I kill along the way.

“You can’t trust Queen Scarlet,” Moon said. Icicle jerked her head around to stare at Moon. “Listen, please. Set him free, and I promise we won’t tell anyone you were conspiring with her.”

Icicle’s wings flared. “How did you know that?” she snarled.

“Queen
Scarlet
?” said a voice behind them. “Icicle, what are you doing?”

It had been Winter they’d run past, and of course he had followed them. The dazzling confusion of his mind was brighter than ever. He couldn’t even process what he was seeing — his sister, about to kill Starflight.

“Stay out of this,” Icicle warned him. “Unless you’d like to be helpful, in which case, go find Sunny and kill her.”

“What are you talking about?” Winter shouted. “Why would we do that?”

He’s a weak fool,
Icicle thought, cold and clear. “Mother always said you weren’t as strong or smart as Hailstorm,” she spat.

Winter flinched as if he’d been struck.

“I see you edging closer, SandWing,” Icicle said, glaring at Qibli. He stopped moving. “Listen. I’ll just take this librarian with me to make sure no one follows. I’ll release him once I’m a safe distance away. That’s the best deal you’re going to get.”

“She’s lying,” Moon said. “She’ll kill him as soon as she gets a chance.”

And Moon would know,
Qibli thought.

Icicle shot a poisonous look at Moon.
Very well, Plan B,
the IceWing thought.
Multiple kills, escape in the chaos. That SandWing is just within range of my frostbreath, and then I slit Starflight’s throat, break the little NightWing’s neck, and go after Sunny and the others. Winter can stay and whimper over their bones if he wants to.

She seemed to be focused on Moon, but her mind was waiting for Qibli to try sneaking forward again.

One step closer, SandWing. One … step … now —

“Qibli!” Moon yelled, leaping at him. She shoved him out of the way as a blast of freezing air shot out of Icicle’s mouth.

Get down!
Darkstalker roared in her brain.

Moon felt as if he’d slammed great talons into her back and thrown her to the ground. The frostbreath went over her head and caught just the edge of Moon’s wing; she screamed at the sudden pain.

Everything happened at once, along with a deafening thunderclap of fury and adrenaline that surged into Moon from all the dragons in the room. Winter roared and charged toward them. Starflight jabbed Icicle hard in the chest and she let go of his neck with a grunt, but as he staggered away she grabbed him again and smashed him into the cave wall. He crumpled to the ground with his eyes closed.

Moon let out a cry and ran forward to crouch beside him. She reached out and felt the flicker of his brain dropping into unconsciousness. He was still alive.

In the same moment, Qibli threw himself at Icicle and knocked her off her feet. The IceWing and the SandWing struggled, rolling across the floor, kicking scrolls in all directions. Qibli stabbed his tail at her but missed. She flung him away so he crashed hard on top of the main desk and slid over behind it.

Seconds later, Moon was seized by cruel, cold talons and pinned to the ground. Icicle’s claws wrapped around her neck.

“Icicle, don’t!” Winter yelled. He grabbed his sister and tried to drag her off Moon, but she was bigger than he was and too heavy to move.

“You never won when we fought in the hatchery,” she snarled at him. “Don’t bother trying now. And for what? A couple of NightWings? Don’t you remember that we hate them? Don’t you remember what they did to our tribe? To Hailstorm?”

Winter froze, still clutching her shoulders.

His mind slipped into the well-worn tracks Moon had heard on the first day she met him.
The NightWings killed him. And all of them. All of Scarlet’s IceWing prisoners.

“The NightWings came right out of the sky and killed every last IceWing in Scarlet’s mountain prison,” Icicle said. “While the IceWings were still bound and chained. Remember? And do you remember why? To make Queen Scarlet free
that
one.” She let go of Moon’s neck with one talon to point at Starflight. “He’s the reason they’re all dead.”

Winter did remember. Moon could see it all flooding through his head. This was the heart of his guilt. He’d gotten his brother captured by SkyWing soldiers when they went looking for scavenger dens in the mountains. So his brother had been in Queen Scarlet’s prison when the NightWings arrived to save Starflight, and they’d killed all the IceWings in a show of strength. Every last one.

That was why Winter hated NightWings.

“But Starflight’s not to blame,” Moon choked out wretchedly. “He’s the kind of dragon who will stop the killing, Winter, not cause any more. He’s good inside — just like you are.”

His eyes, blue as arctic oceans, stared into hers.

“Good, pfft. Would you rather be good or strong?” Icicle spat at him.

In response, Winter smashed his sister across the head with his tail.

Icicle fell back, roaring, and Moon gasped for air.

“Starflight and Moon didn’t kill Hailstorm!” Winter shouted. “Queen Scarlet did! She’s the one who took him prisoner! He would have died in her arena sooner or later. How can you work with her? How can you work
for
her? How can you do anything she says?”

He advanced and Icicle retreated, back toward the bank of leaf-covered windows. A trickle of dark blue blood was running down the side of her head from a gash near one of her horns. The same dark blue was smeared across her white shoulders, bleeding from a dozen cuts left by Qibli’s claws. She was panting heavily.

“You are the worst kind of dirt-covered whale chum,” Icicle growled at Winter. “You’ve ruined everything.”

“It seems to me like you’re the one who’s done that,” he said.

“You don’t understand,” she said. “You
idiot
.”

Winter stopped, his wings spread menacingly. “So explain it to me,” he said.

“Our brother is alive, you fool,” she snarled. “Queen Scarlet told me. She kept the most important prisoners in a secret, separate prison. He wasn’t killed by the NightWings, although twelve of our fellow dragons were.”

Moon clutched her head as agonizing spears of shock ricocheted through Winter’s brain, like flying shards of a broken mirror.

“Hailstorm is
alive
?” Winter cried.

“Yes — and if I had succeeded in killing the prophecy dragonets for Queen Scarlet, she would have given him back to me. To us,” Icicle hissed. “But instead you’ve killed him all over again. And now you have to live with that forever.”