Wings of Fire #11: The Lost Continent

by Sutherland, Tui T.

  As he fell, as a thousand claws reached up to seize him, he saw Cricket clutch the Book to her chest and shout his name. He saw Sundew pummel the Librarian hard enough to knock the HiveWing out of the air. He saw Sundew grab Cricket’s arm and pull her away, and he saw Cricket’s last look back, and he saw their tails disappearing away up the skylight.

  And then all he could see was orange and yellow and black and red, as the talons closed around him, and the queen had him in her grasp at last.

  Blue was dragged roughly through the Hive tunnels. The queen had dispatched five dragons to take him away, which was four too many for a dragon as harmless as Blue. They kept stepping on one another’s toes and growling and bumping wings and all trying to hold on to his elbows at once, which he definitely did not have enough elbows for them to do.

  Their eyes were their own again, so the queen had apparently decided she didn’t need to be concerned about Blue anymore. Which meant all the rest of her brainwashed subjects were off hunting for Cricket and Sundew.

  Did they get away? Are they all right?

  He worried and worried about this as he was shoved between blustering HiveWings. They were descending through the levels, but to where, Blue had no idea. He kept expecting the queen herself to appear. He jumped each time they turned onto a level with black and yellow stripes.

  They reached the bottom level with no sign of her, though. The guards pushed him out into the streets of warehouses he’d seen on the way in. One flicked her wings at him and he realized the tips were sharp little stingers, probably venomous. Another kept baring his fangs, so those could probably kill him with just a scratch, too.

  Where are they taking me? Blue wondered, staring at the blank walls as they marched past. How am I going to be punished? He remembered the tortured faces on Misbehaver’s Way and shivered.

  This feeling — of being in trouble, of having done something wrong, of knowing so many dragons were angry at you — this was everything he’d tried to avoid his whole life. He hated it. He wanted to go back to his desk and get all the answers right on the quiz and have the teacher smile and say, “Nice work, Blue.” He wanted to dig out his Good Citizenship award and show it to these HiveWings to prove he wasn’t as bad a dragon as they thought he was.

  But …

  I’m not. I mean, I’ve done all the things they think I have. But that doesn’t make me bad.

  He clung to that thought like it was a harness and someone was lifting him through the sky. Yes, I broke HiveWing rules. But I had good reasons to. I’m not trying to hurt anyone — I just wanted to find my sister and set her free. Queen Wasp didn’t have to be so secretive and menacing and terrifying in the first place.

  The HiveWings stopped suddenly in front of a blocky building that looked exactly the same as all the others. The only difference was a carving on the gray door, this time of a small lantern, little sparks coming off it to indicate it was glowing.

  Blue suddenly had a guess about where he was going.

  One of the HiveWings pounded on the door in a series of knocks: three quick, four slow, two quick. After a moment, it was flung open, revealing a wizened, mostly orange dragon with black patches here and there. He gestured for them to come inside and slammed the door behind them.

  Shapes loomed around them in the dim interior — giant crates, as far as Blue could tell, stacked up to the ceiling. They maneuvered between these: left, right, right, left again, until Blue lost track. But he thought they were about in the center of the warehouse when they reached a wide open, well-lit space surrounded by a circle of watchful HiveWing guards.

  At first, Blue thought they were staring into empty space, or perhaps at one another across the way. It wasn’t until he got closer that he realized they were looking down … down through an enormous sheet of glass at a stone cavern below the floor. That was also where all the light was coming from.

  The dragon from the door shoved him past the guards before Blue could take a close look. But he caught a glimpse of cauldrons that seemed to be full of molten gold and dragons moving between them.

  Shortly beyond the circle of guards, the old dragon shoved aside a crate and heaved open a trapdoor underneath, revealing a set of stairs descending into the earth. He started down and Blue’s guards nudged him into following.

  Lamps punctuated the turns of the stairwell, but they seemed unnecessary; the glow from the light at the bottom of the stairs could have illuminated a stairwell three times as long. Blue had to shield his eyes and blink hard for a moment when they reached the bottom. His head ached as though he’d walked right up to the sun.

  “What’s this?” a gruff voice demanded while Blue’s eyes were still adjusting.

  “The flamesilk everyone’s been looking for,” came the answer.

  “Can’t be.” Someone poked his shoulder. “Wrong color. Aaaack! Did his scales just fall off?!”

  “It’s … paint or something?” said another dragon. She started scraping at his scales with her claws. “Eeeeeyeesh, look, it comes off. Fetch a scrubber.”

  “Wait, this little scrap is the dragon we’ve been hunting across the savanna?” someone else chimed in. “He’s not a flamesilk! He hasn’t even got wings or silk yet.”

  “We knew that, idiot,” said the first voice. “He’s just probably a flamesilk. We have to keep an eye on him in case he is.”

  “Oh, boring. When’s his Metamorphosis?”

  “Dunno. Soon, I reckon.”

  Blue’s heart gave a nervous jump. It was soon — really, really soon. He kept forgetting to worry about it. His was supposed to start right after Luna’s ended. Would he have to spin his cocoon here? Far away from his mother, his Hive, and the Cocoon where he’d always expected to transform?

  He felt his wrists gingerly. They seemed normal … no pain, no burning feelings. What if he went through his Metamorphosis and wasn’t a flamesilk? What would the queen do with him then?

  Sending him back home to Burnet and Silverspot didn’t seem like the most likely option, somehow.

  Someone arrived with scrubbing brushes and briskly scoured the paint off his scales. He stood still and didn’t struggle. There wasn’t much point in being a different color now, after all.

  Besides, his eyes were finally adjusting to the light, and he was transfixed by his new surroundings. They were standing on a ledge at the bottom of the stairs, looking out over the cave he’d glimpsed from above. If he looked up, he could see the green-yellow-orange glow of the eyes watching through the glass ceiling.

  More HiveWing guards were stationed down here, peering into the cauldrons and occasionally poking the working SilkWings with their tails or spears. Several of those SilkWings were ordinary dragons, doing ordinary work: transporting cargo, carrying food and water, cleaning, putting out fires.

  But the rest …

  The rest were flamesilks.

  Blue counted nine at first glance. They were scattered across the cavern, each on his or her own rocky perch. Four of them were asleep; two were eating. The other three had their wrists extended, fiery silk threads spilling out into the massive stone cauldrons set below them.

  He stared at them, trying to guess which one was his father. The large, bored one who looked like he might fall asleep and topple into his own silk fire? The lime-striped one who was nibbling a persimmon as though it had greatly offended him, but he’d decided to eat it anyway? The one with pale pink wings whose talons twitched constantly in his sleep?

  And then, at last, he saw what he most wanted to see: an incandescent gold cocoon, tucked in its own hollow on the far side of the cave.

  Luna.

  He took a step toward her, hesitated, and looked back at the guards. The scrubbing brushes had been carted away. His original escorts had gone back up the stairs, leaving the one guard from the door and the three who’d come to investigate his arrival. These four were all leaning on their spears or chewing on strips of dried gazelle, chatting to one another.

  One of them
noticed his glance. She grinned at him with all her teeth.

  “Go ahead,” she said. “Get used to the place. I gather you’re going to be here for a while.”

  The others chuckled, although Blue didn’t think it was really the most clever menacing comment she could have come up with.

  He took another few steps away, but they all went back to their conversation and ignored him.

  I guess I really can walk around. He’d expected a cage, or a paralyzing nerve toxin, or some kind of beating, perhaps. But maybe this was the queen’s way of letting him know how unimportant he was. Or how trapped … he could wander as far as he liked, because there was nowhere to go and no way out.

  Blue clambered down from the ledge, hopping from rocky foothold to craggy stalagmite until he reached the same level of the cavern as Luna’s cocoon. Behind him, he heard the HiveWing guards laughing, and he wondered if they were mocking his winglessness.

  Well, I won’t be wingless much longer. His biggest fear — his Metamorphosis — was only days away. It didn’t seem fair that he’d have to deal with that, too, in the middle of everything else terrifying.

  His route to the cocoon led him past the bored-looking flamesilk, who glanced up with a spark of interest in his eyes.

  “Hey,” said the flamesilk in a lazy but commanding voice. “Who are you?”

  Blue hesitated. He didn’t want to alienate anyone who might be a friend down here — and for all he knew, this could be Admiral.

  “I’m Blue,” he said. “My sister’s in that cocoon over there.”

  “Ohhhhh,” said the other dragon. He shook one of his wrists vigorously, watched the silk spool for a moment, then turned his gaze back to Blue. “Right. The new blood.”

  “Did you know we were coming?” Blue asked.

  “Some of us hoped,” he answered. “Ad’s been counting the days.” He nodded over at Luna’s cocoon, and Blue finally noticed that there was a dragon sitting next to it.

  Ad … Admiral.

  Blue moved forward, studying his father. Admiral was a shimmering blue green, somewhere between Blue’s bright morpho butterfly blue and Luna’s elegant caterpillar color. He had darker purple streaks along his wings and matching spots of white on each one. His eyes were brown with a faint gold tinge to them, and he traced one claw around and around in an infinity loop on the ground as he watched Luna’s cocoon.

  For a long moment, he didn’t look up, even when Blue stopped right across the cocoon from him. But at last Admiral raised his head and saw his son.

  His eyes lit up.

  “You’re the other one!” he said. “You’re early!”

  “Oh … yes,” Blue said. He gestured vaguely at the guards on the entrance ledge. “I was, uh … ” Well, captured, I guess.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Admiral said warmly. “I’m your father. I’m Admiral.”

  “I know,” Blue said. “My name’s Blue. Wait — you’re glad we’re here?” Glad that Luna and I are trapped down here, just like you?

  “We have such an important job,” Admiral said, rubbing his wrists. “So important! When do you think she’ll wake up?”

  Blue calculated backward. “Not tomorrow night, the night after that,” he said. “That would be five days from when she went in.”

  Admiral nodded. “I can’t believe one of mine is a flamesilk,” he said. “And maybe both! Clubtail was taken out to have eggs a year before me, but neither of his had any flame whatsoever.” His chest swelled with pride.

  “But … ” Blue looked around at the cavern again. “Isn’t it … sorry, but isn’t it kind of terrible? Being a flamesilk?”

  “Terrible! Gosh, no,” said Admiral. “I mean. I’d make some changes. I’m working on that.”

  “Working on what?” Blue asked. Was his father also part of a secret resistance?

  Admiral waved at a rocky nest nearby, where piles of papers were neatly stacked along the stone shelves around it, each stack tied with a pale gold thread. “Changing the system!” he said. “Solving problems!”

  “With … papers?” Blue squinted at them.

  “They’re letters,” Admiral said patiently. “My copies of them, obviously. I write one to the queen every seven days, outlining the current problems I see and offering proposals for fixing them.”

  “Oh,” Blue said, impressed. That was a lot of letters. “So she writes back? Or she comes to visit you?”

  “Well, neither,” said Admiral. “But she’s very busy. Lots of Hives to run. Two tribes to manage. LeafWings to guard against. The dip in flamesilk production is just one of her many problems. Which I’m going to help solve!”

  “There’s a flamesilk shortage?” Blue said.

  “No!” said Admiral unconvincingly. “And it’s not a problem, because we’re solving it. With her help,” he added, nodding at Luna’s cocoon, “and hopefully yours!”

  Blue stared at him in alarm. “Was this your idea?” he asked. “Fathering potential flamesilks so more dragons could be trapped in this cave?”

  “Well, no,” his father admitted. “The queen came up with that. Very clever. And works out well for me because (a) better company and (b) more signatures for my petitions!”

  “Petitions,” Blue echoed.

  “My suggestion was longer rest cycles between production and more citrus in our diet. Which we got! The citrus, I mean. Tangerines for everyone with every meal. Every. Meal. Really makes you wish for a lemon or a banana now and then. Good for us, though! She vetoed the longer rest cycles. That’s all right.”

  “So … what else have you changed?” Blue asked.

  “Oh, lots of things,” Admiral said with a modest shrug. “I started almost as soon as I got here, once I realized there was a system and a way to accomplish real change within that system.”

  “Yeah?” Blue was intrigued. Doing things inside the rules … that sounded like something he could handle a bit better than Swordtail and Luna’s revolution. Maybe his father could teach him how to do it. Maybe there was a way to be a good dragon, stay out of trouble, and still make things better.

  Although. Tangerines were not quite the epic change Blue wanted to see in the world.

  “Can I read some of your letters?” Blue asked.

  “Of course!” Admiral leaped excitedly to his feet and bounded over to his alcove. He came back with an armful of papers and laid them out in front of Blue.

  “Wait … is this flamesilk?” Blue asked, touching the thread that tied one stack together. He squinted at it, puzzled. “Why isn’t it setting the letters on fire?”

  Admiral laughed. “This is great!” he said. “I feel like such a dad! I get to teach you so much! There are different kinds of flamesilk, buddy. It wouldn’t be much good to us if it only burned everything in sight. We need the kind for building webs, too. Something we can sleep on. Stickier silk for climbing with. We can choose which kind we produce.” He tipped his wrists up, flexed his claws, and glanced at the nearest guard, who wasn’t paying any attention to them. “Um … I’ll show you later. Not a good idea to waste any silk, you know.”

  Blue flipped through the letters, thinking about this new information. It was quite a relief to hear that he wouldn’t accidentally set the world on fire every time he used his silk. Maybe going through Metamorphosis with his flamesilk parent nearby actually was a good idea.

  Maybe the queen was trying to help me and Luna by bringing us here.

  And yet … he glanced around at the cavern. The flamesilk dragons looked fine. They didn’t seem miserable. But if they were so important and the queen was willing to listen to them — why were they kept imprisoned in this cavern? Why were they such a big secret — at least, from most other SilkWings?

  Why weren’t they allowed to choose this life — or something else?

  “Father,” Blue said. “Do any flamesilks ever leave this place?”

  “Sure,” Admiral said unexpectedly. “I mean, I left, didn’t I? Long enough to have you!”
<
br />   “Right, but — how long was that for?” Blue asked. “Did you get to decide when and where you went? Or who you were with?”

  “Well, no,” Admiral said. “But it was a lovely visit. Cicada Hive is so pretty. That Mosaic Garden, wow.”

  “Have you gone anywhere else?” Blue asked. “How often do you leave?”

  “Ummmm.” Admiral scrunched up his snout as though he was counting in his head. Blue leaned forward hopefully. “Right. That was it, actually. That … one time.”

  “In your whole life?” Blue asked, dismayed. “You’ve spent your whole life in this one cave?”

  “Oh, no,” said Admiral. “I grew up in Hornet Hive. Didn’t move here until my Metamorphosis. Went into my cocoon there, woke up here! Quite a surprise. Really delightful, once I realized how important we are and what an honor this is.”

  Blue regarded him skeptically. “Haven’t you ever asked the queen if you could leave?”

  “Sure,” Admiral said. “That stack on the end is vacation time requests and field trip proposals and some of my theories on how more flying might improve our silk production. Afraid I don’t have any good evidence for that, though! More of a wishful-thinking kind of hypothesis. I realize that. Completely reasonable that she always says no.”

  Blue picked up another letter. His father’s handwriting was neat and very legible. His spelling was perfect, his sentences concise and convincing. This one was a politely worded outline of a proposal for a skylight or anything like a window, suggesting that a little sun on their scales might also be beneficial for their silk output.

  There were several letters below it along the same lines, with modifications to the proposal to make it as cost-effective or easy to accomplish as possible. One even included a drawing of a sequence of mirrors that could bring the sunshine to them via a long path of reflections.

  Blue could clearly see, from looking at the cavern, that every one of these letters had been ignored.

  “Who’s the midget?” one of the other flamesilks — the one with green stripes — shouted at Admiral. “Is that your offspring? He’s scrawny like you! Is he a vacuous earthworm, too?”