The Hive Queen

by Tui T. Sutherland

  Cricket remembered hiding on the edges of that ballroom while her mother danced, at a party neither she nor Katydid had wanted to be dragged to. But her mother never missed one of Lady Jewel’s parties, her best chance to get closer to the ruler of her new Hive. Katydid had found a bubbly drink for them to share that tasted like limes and made Cricket sleepy. The wasps on the tapestries had been dyed a gold so bright it hurt her eyes.

  She missed Katydid. When Cricket flew off with Blue, she hadn’t expected to be gone for so long. She hadn’t thought about the possibility that she’d never be able to go home again … that she might never see her sister again.

  But I’d still have gone, even knowing all that. I think I had to.

  They arced around Jewel Hive and landed a fair distance away, farther out on the peninsula, at the top of a cliff where they could hear the sound of waves roaring below even through the storm. Somehow, standing out in the rain felt even harder than flying, as though the raindrops were trying to beat Cricket into the earth.

  “So there’s the Hive,” Sundew shouted to Swordtail. “Where do we go to find the Chrysalis?”

  Cricket wasn’t great at reading dragons’ expressions, but she thought Swordtail looked decidedly nervous as he answered, “Well, we don’t exactly find them. We leave them a message and they find us.”

  “Leave them a message how?” Cricket asked. “Where?”

  “Um.” He shook his wings and tail. “So. I’m kind of … guessing? I mean, I sort of know, but I wasn’t going to be the one who … I mean, I’m just saying, this would be a lot easier if Luna were here.”

  “But she’s not,” Sundew said. “Not yet,” she amended at the look on his face. “You have to figure this out, SilkWing. We can’t wait for her.”

  “Wait, why not?” Blue asked. “Can’t we go hide somewhere new for a few days until we find her and then decide what to do?”

  The grass was soggy and felt like dense wet carpet under Cricket’s claws. She blinked away raindrops and looked at Sundew.

  “No!” Sundew said. “We’ve been waiting for you, you snoozy SilkWing.” She turned to Cricket. “My parents can’t put their plans on hold forever.”

  Lightning flickered deep in the clouds, reflecting waves of green fire in the ocean. Cricket felt the tremor of thunder rumble through her bones.

  “What does that mean?” Cricket asked. “What plans? How long do you think they’ll wait?”

  Sundew huffed and ripped up a muddy tuft of grass, then carefully tucked it back into the divot she’d made and covered it with her claws. “All right,” she said. “Two days.”

  “Two days?” Cricket cried. “That’s it? That’s all the time we have to solve the entire mystery of Queen Wasp’s mind control?”

  “Or what?” Blue asked anxiously. “What happens in two days?”

  “That’s all I could get!” Sundew shouted back at Cricket. “I tried, all right? It was almost impossible! It was like — like trying to push a tree back up when it’s already started falling. Belladonna and Hemlock don’t think you can do it. So I’m sorry, but if I don’t have some kind of results for them by sunset in two days, they’re going to the next phase of their plan.”

  “What are they going to do?” Cricket asked. Blue looked paler and paler with each of her questions. “Are they going to attack a Hive? Will it restart the Tree Wars? What plan, Sundew?”

  “The LeafWing plan that is not for HiveWings to know about,” Sundew said sternly. “But it involves violence and you’re not going to like it as much as this plan, so we should get moving on this plan in order to make sure that it’s the one that works. Understand?”

  Swordtail nodded.

  “Restart the Tree Wars?” Blue whispered, nearly drowned out by the storm.

  Cricket’s heart was beating very fast. She wanted to know the LeafWing plan; she wanted to know how many LeafWings were out there and where they would attack and whether Katydid would be in danger.

  But the only thing she did know was she wouldn’t get those answers out of Sundew by asking for them now.

  And at least she had a chance. Two days. Two days to find the answers and stop the LeafWings.

  “All right,” she said, trying to steady her breathing. “We can do this. Let’s think. Swordtail, where do you need to get to so you can leave a message for the Chrysalis?”

  “A central feature,” he said. “In Cicada Hive, it was the Salvation mosaic in the Mosaic Garden. Does — does Jewel Hive have a Salvation mosaic?”

  “No.” Cricket shook her head.

  He looked worried. “Does it have anything like that?”

  Cricket bowed her head and tried to think. Her visits to her mother hadn’t exactly involved fun tours of awesome Hive monuments. But maybe there was an answer in something she’d read … Her mind started ticking through books about other Hives, monuments to the Salvation, architecture and unifying features, the history of Hive-building, Wasp’s sisters and Lady Jewel …

  “There’s the statue in the center of the Glitterbazaar,” she said slowly. “That’s a tribute to the Salvation. Or there’s a garden at the top of the Hive, like the Mosaic Garden. It doesn’t have mosaics or historical monuments, but it has a wading pool and a shrine to Clearsight.”

  “The garden,” Swordtail said.

  “The statue,” Sundew said at the same time.

  “Really?” he said to her. “I’d think it would be in roughly the same place, like, geographically. Don’t you?”

  “No, my revolution would be organized around the symbolism,” she said. “If it’s in a meaningful place in one Hive, I’d guess the Chrysalis in the next Hive would choose a place with the same meaning.”

  “Hm.” Swordtail rubbed his face, trying unsuccessfully to dry it. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I wish —”

  “Luna were here, yes, we know,” Sundew said. “OK, here’s what we do. Leave a message in both places. Hope the Chrysalis finds one of them.”

  “And the HiveWings don’t,” Blue said.

  “It’ll be easiest to go to the Glitterbazaar first,” Cricket suggested. She pointed down toward Jewel Hive, at the dark shapes that sprawled in a scattered tangle around the bottom of it. “We start on the outskirts, get our disguises, and work our way in.”

  And pray to Clearsight that we can do this in two days.

  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?”