The Hive Queen

by Tui T. Sutherland

  “No. She always goes alone.” Jewel tapped her claws on the floor. “Hmmm.”

  Scarab reappeared at the bars. “I’m sensing the development of another completely stupid plan.”

  Cricket got herself to stand and stepped toward the leader of the Hive. “Lady Jewel,” she said. “Please let me out of here, and I promise I’ll find out what she does in the Nests. If I’m right, and it has something to do with the mind control, maybe we can figure out a way to stop her.”

  “I can’t let you out, little dragonet,” Jewel said. “As much as I might be tempted to. Queen Wasp would punish my guards most severely, and they are loyal to me when their minds are their own. They don’t deserve that.”

  “So put those two you don’t like on duty,” Scarab suggested. “The oily ones who are probably spying on you for the queen.”

  Jewel narrowed her eyes at her mother for a long moment. “Hmm,” she said at length. “That might actually work.”

  “SEE?” Scarab said triumphantly. “I am full of good advice if you actually listen!”

  “By the Book, Mother, I listen to you all the time!”

  “Not about those dragonets of yours, you don’t. Oof, they are a disaster.”

  “THEY ARE N — this is not productive.” Jewel closed her eyes and rubbed her temples for a moment. “You can only control yourself, you can only control yourself,” she murmured. “All right. Let’s say I do put those sneaks on guard duty. How would we get her past them?”

  Cricket glanced around her cell. “Could I go out another way, instead of through the prison gate? Up or down, maybe?” She scratched the treestuff below her.

  “Down would drop you into Rootworm’s ballroom, and she would not be pleased about that.” Lady Jewel looked up at the ceiling, her eyes darting around as though she was measuring the space in her head. “Up … I think you’d end up in my kitchens, or close to them. I don’t really want a hole in my kitchen floor that looks down into a prison cell, but I suppose there are dragons up there who could help you get out of the palace.” She tapped her claws again.

  “How can I make a hole in treestuff?” Cricket said thoughtfully. “A hammer or something heavy would do it, but it would take a while and the noise would bring the guards.” She studied the walls, the bars, the corridor outside … “Flamesilk. Flamesilk might work.”

  “Or it might burn down my palace,” Jewel pointed out.

  “I’d be careful,” Cricket promised.

  “And,” Scarab observed with unusual cheerfulness, “then Wasp would think her flamesilk friend broke in to get her out. Can’t hardly blame you for that, after she lost them twice in her own Hive.”

  “I suspect Wasp can find a way to blame me no matter what,” Jewel said.

  “Isn’t this why you act like such a vapid banana slug around her?” Scarab asked, flapping her wings. “So she’ll think you’re a harmless idiot and leave you in peace?”

  “I do not!” Jewel protested.

  “Ah,” said Scarab. “So you actually are a harmless idiot?”

  Jewel shot her mother a cross look. “The point is, yes, Wasp would not be at all surprised if I lost a dragon from my prisons because she thinks I have nothing but pollen between my ears. That doesn’t mean she won’t be furious and perfectly nasty to me.”

  “Perfectly nasty is Wasp’s natural resting state,” Scarab observed. “You’ll survive it. I say it’s worth it to keep one more HiveWing free.” She nodded at Cricket. “Sneaking into the Nest and spying on the queen, on the other talon, sounds like the height of stupid.”

  “That’s the deal,” Jewel said firmly. “I want to follow this theory — and I can’t do it myself; she’ll have eyes on me.”

  “I want to know the truth, too,” Cricket said, wrapping her talons around the bars. “It’s all right, Lady Scarab. I want to do this. I think we’ll find answers in there, I really do.”

  Scarab looked from her daughter to Cricket and back, then flung her wings up with a snort. “Fine. Let’s get this daft dragonet some flamesilk.”

  Cricket waited, as she’d been instructed, until Lady Jewel and Scarab were long gone — long enough for Jewel to have replaced the guards at the front entrance of the prison. Then she took out the little stone pot of flamesilk that Jewel had left with her. The golden thread inside glowed bright and hot; she guessed it was very new.

  Maybe it’s even Blue’s, she thought. Maybe one of the dragons in the market traded it up through the Hive yesterday, so it wound up here in Jewel’s palace.

  She liked that thought, that maybe a little piece of Blue was going to help her escape.

  She still had the flamesilk tweezers she’d taken from her school library the night she ran away with Blue. Carefully she used them to twist the thread of flamesilk until it was straight and taut like a wire, and then she lifted the thread out and flew up to the ceiling.

  It was very awkward, trying to keep herself in the air nearly upside down and work on the ceiling without dropping the flamesilk thread. She traced out a circle big enough for her to fit through, leaving a black smoking line with small flickers of flame curling from a few of the edges. Then she traced it again, and again, pressing the flamesilk farther into the treestuff.

  She knew treestuff was made of bits of wood pulp, silk, and clay, and she guessed that how quickly it burned would depend on how much of each was in this section of the ceiling. Tracing the line seemed to take forever, around and around, over and over again. Her wings started to ache and she had to land back on the floor for a little while to rest them.

  “Pssst,” called a voice from the hallway. Cricket edged over to the bars and tried to peer out. She could see light purple talons waving from a cell a few doors away.

  “Yes?” she whispered back.

  “I didn’t catch all that,” said the prisoner, “but if I want to stay on Lady Jewel’s good side — and I fervently do — what should I say to the queen when she asks me how you escaped?”

  Cricket was silent for a moment, worrying. “Why wouldn’t you tell the queen what you heard?” she asked.

  “Because Lady Jewel is the only ruler in the Hives who can be trusted,” the SilkWing whispered back. “Queen Wasp has no sense of mercy or justice. I’m due to be released tomorrow, and I think Lady Jewel will be fair with me.”

  “I think so, too,” Cricket said, wondering now about the stories of Jewel’s prison. What if the dragons who disappeared in here were actually spirited away to safety by Jewel, to keep them out of the queen’s talons? She let the queen and everyone else think that cruel, secretive things went on behind the prison doors, but perhaps that was a clever way to conceal what she really did for dragons in trouble.

  “What are you in here for?” Cricket asked.

  “Not paying my library fines,” the dragon answered ruefully.

  Cricket wished he could see her smile. “If you could tell the queen,” she said, “that you think you heard a dragon burn a hole in my ceiling from the other side, that would be very helpful.”

  “I could do that,” he said. “And when you saw this dragon, you shouted …”

  “Blue,” Cricket said. “She’ll expect it was him.”

  “Good luck,” the prisoner said, waving his talons through the bars again.

  Cricket returned to the scorched line in the ceiling, burning it again and again. She didn’t know how long it took to fly from Wasp Hive to Jewel Hive, but she felt the queen drawing closer with every heartbeat. She had to hurry.

  Finally she felt the thread break through into open space on the other side of the ceiling. The circle of treestuff trembled above her, barely hanging in place, and she shoved it hard with her shoulder.

  “Stand back,” someone called from above.

  Startled, Cricket flew to the side. She heard a thump, and then another, and then the circle fell out of the ceiling in a crash of treestuff dust.

  “That’ll bring the guards,” the other prisoner called. “Better hurry and go
.”

  “Come on,” cried the voice from the next level up. Cricket saw dark orange claws beckoning through the hole in the ceiling. She darted over and squeezed herself through, folding her wings in as tight as they’d go and losing a few scarves in the process. Talons reached for her, tugging her upward until she tumbled free onto the floor of Jewel’s palace kitchen.

  Five SilkWing servants were scattered around the room, staring at her with wide eyes, frozen in the middle of chopping or stirring or roasting or whatever they’d been doing. But standing by the hole were Cinnabar and Tau, the SilkWings from the Chrysalis. They were the ones who’d helped her climb through.

  “You’re all right,” Cricket gasped. “I thought Lady Jewel was going to punish you.”

  “Not much,” Tau said. “She likes me.”

  “She likes me, too!” Cinnabar huffed, taking the stone jar from Cricket. Cricket dropped the flamesilk into it, and Cinnabar neatly capped the jar and slotted it onto a high shelf between glass jars labeled BASIL and GINGER.

  “Not as much as she likes me,” Tau said serenely. “Also, whenever the queen says to punish us severely, Jewel gives us a medal.” She clapped at a few of the watching SilkWings. “Pour some water over this hole to make sure it doesn’t burn further. And you were all in the pantry and saw nothing.”

  “Yes, Tau,” one of them answered. The others bowed their heads in agreement.

  “Follow us,” Cinnabar said to Cricket, turning and sprinting out of the kitchen. Cricket followed, with Tau at her side.

  They ran through the winding back passages of the palace, narrow halls that Cricket guessed were intended for servants, to keep them out of sight of Jewel’s HiveWing guests. She caught glimpses of jewel-toned ballrooms as they flew by, ruby-red walls and yellow silk banners and emerald patterns in the floors. She could still hear the rain and feel the breeze from outside in almost every room.

  At last they came to a small, nondescript door. Cinnabar opened it and peeked outside; a gust of wind came through, carrying the savanna scents of sunlight and rain and grass. She closed it again quickly and looked back at Tau.

  “Treehopper is out there,” she said softly.

  Cricket wondered if Blue could have read Tau’s expression, because she couldn’t at all. The gentle SilkWing was either smothering a smile or trying not to bite something.

  “Is he … himself?” she asked.

  “I couldn’t tell,” Cinnabar said. “His back is to the door.”

  “I’ll talk to him.” Tau stepped forward, brushing past Cricket in the dim hallway.

  “Is that a good idea?” Cinnabar asked. “With the queen so close?”

  “I am Lady Jewel’s chief steward,” Tau said austerely, “and he is her treasurer. We are allowed to have an ordinary, everyday conversation.”

  Cinnabar quirked an eyebrow at her.

  “I promise we won’t be obvious,” Tau said in her normal voice. “Really, Cinnabar.”

  “You’re obvious every time you even look at each other,” Cinnabar grumbled. “Just get away from him quick if his eyes go white.”

  Tau shuddered. “I always do.”

  She slipped out through the door and Cricket nudged up to peek through the crack with Cinnabar.

  Outside, a wide balcony garden overlooked the savanna, covered in plants of all shapes and sizes. Raspberry bushes lined the paths and white honeysuckle climbed the gazebos. Cricket spotted pale pink lotus flowers drifting across the ponds and clusters of forget-me-nots everywhere. The way most of the plants spilled over their borders made her miss her little terrarium back at school, even though she’d always found the endless botany classes rather boring.

  It was raining, a quiet, gentle rainfall, but a roof extended over part of the gardens, and underneath it, a plump, worried-looking HiveWing sat by one of the pools, reading. His scales were a dark greenish black with pale orange stripes along his wings, tail, and face. He turned to look up as Tau approached and Cricket saw what Cinnabar meant: his whole face lit up as though he’d just discovered sunshine.

  “By the Hive,” Cinnabar muttered. “They’re terrible at this.”

  “He’s a HiveWing,” Cricket whispered. “And she’s a SilkWing.”

  “Yup,” said Cinnabar. “Extra very forbidden. It’s a problem, and we all know it, even Lady Jewel, but no one can do anything about it.”

  Seeing the two dragons laughing, their wings brushing accidentally, Cricket knew she wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it, either. Even if she were their queen, she’d never be able to separate two dragons who looked so happy together.

  “All right, stop being cute and get him out of there,” Cinnabar grumbled between her teeth.

  Tau gestured toward a door on the other side of the garden, and they both started walking in that direction. Cinnabar poked her nose out a little farther, watching them go.

  And then Treehopper froze in place for a moment. Tau stumbled beside him, glanced at him quickly, and ducked her head, her whole posture changing instantly into that of a dutiful servant.

  The HiveWing turned his head in a slow, eerie twist to scan the garden. Cricket and Cinnabar jumped back behind the door before the white eyes got to them.

  “I have arrived,” said the queen’s chilly voice. Cricket felt a spasm of fear shoot through her from snout to tail. “Jewel. Meet me in the prison.”

  There was a pause, and then Treehopper shook himself with a hiss. “Sorry,” he said in a low voice to Tau, looking down at his talons as though he couldn’t bear to meet her eyes.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said softly.

  Cricket’s heart was thundering in her ears. She was sure she could hear talonsteps coming along the corridor; any moment the queen would step into the prison and see her empty cell. Unless she knew already … maybe she’d seen it through her spies. Any moment the queen would take over the entire Hive again and Cricket would be surrounded by her.

  The two dragons in the garden went through the far door at last. Cinnabar and Cricket leaped out of their hiding spot and ran for the edge.

  “If you were smart,” Cinnabar said, “you’d fly out that way and never stop.” She pointed out at the ocean beyond Dragonfly Bay.

  I wish I could. Cricket thought of her dream of the Distant Kingdoms, where Clearsight had come from. She and Blue could be safe over there, out of reach of Queen Wasp’s claws.

  “I promised Lady Jewel I’d find some answers for her first,” she told Cinnabar. “Thank you for your help.”

  The dark orange dragon waved as Cricket dove into the air and twisted her wings to spiral down the side of the Hive. Other dragons were out despite the rain, flitting from one ledge to another or venturing into the wet savanna for prey. She wove through them, keeping an eye on the HiveWings, until she found an open ledge on the Nest level and could duck inside.

  The walkways around the Nest were little pebbled paths dotted with benches where dragons could meet and make plans for their future offspring. The paths circled the giant dome, which was painted smooth and white like an eggshell. Cricket had visited the Cicada Hive Nest once, and it looked a lot like this. She’d seen parents meeting with administrators to decide what schools their dragonets would attend; she’d even seen some discussing arranged marriage plans.

  But the walkways around the Jewel Hive Nest were empty. She crept up to the snowy walls of the dome and around to the main door, which was opposite the entrance to the ramps. A sign was posted on the door of the dome: CLOSED FOR INSPECTION BY THE QUEEN.

  Oh, moons, Cricket thought. Please don’t be in there already. She glanced around and spotted two guards pacing up and down the ramps. Quickly she dove behind a bench and peered at them through the slats.

  Their attention was focused outward, steering dragons away from the Nest. They didn’t look back at the dome. They could, any second … but while she was watching, they didn’t, and she had to hope she’d be lucky.

  Taking a deep breath, she darte
d to the door, pulled it open, and ducked inside. It swung shut behind her and she caught it with her tail so it wouldn’t thud.

  The inside of the dome was very dark. For a moment, Cricket was afraid that there was no light in there at all, and for a moment, with a shiver of fear, she wondered whether Queen Wasp could see in the dark.

  She could be in here, watching me, right now.

  Cricket stood petrified by the door, trying to breathe quietly, and slowly she realized that her eyes were adjusting, and the Nest was not completely dark after all.

  It was not lit by flamesilk, though. The glowing green light came from small clouds of bioluminescent mushrooms gathered in clumps all around the room, at the base of the walls, and along the paths between the eggs. There was something weird and haunted and beautiful about the scene, as though Cricket had wandered onto the surface of one of the moons.

  The Nest was full of eggs, cradled in small hollows in the floor, ten apiece. Cricket shivered again, thinking of all the tiny heartbeats under the shells, all the little dragons waiting to hatch. She stepped onto one of the paths and studied the closest egg.

  A name was written on the shell in ink — the mother’s name, Cricket guessed. And below that, scored into the shell, there was something else, some kind of symbol. Cricket bent closer. It looked like a pair of stingers, arcing sharply away from each other like the antennae of a wasp.

  She checked the next egg, and the next. They all bore the same marking, until she came around to a group of newer eggs. These had only half the marking: one sharp line, traced ominously along the curve of the shells.

  The very newest ones had no marks on them at all.

  Cricket’s mind was buzzing with questions, but she knew she’d already spent too long gazing at the eggs. She needed to find a place to hide, which would be nearly impossible in a room that contained nothing but eggs and glowing toadstools.

  She turned, searching the shadows, and her tail bumped one of the larger eggs in the last hollow. It rocked slightly in its crevice and she jumped forward to catch it. She could feel the vibrations of the dragonet moving under the shell.