It felt underhanded. He didn’t like lying to anyone, or breaking promises.
Of course, he didn’t love stealing priceless artifacts either.
“It’s like Sundew said, right?” Cricket went on. “We do what they want, or they’ll kill us.”
“I won’t let them kill you,” Blue said.
Something like a “HA!” came from the direction of Sundew’s voice, followed by a “SHHH” and the sounds of a scuffle.
Cricket tapped her message again, watching him significantly. “Let’s hear their plan,” she said. “If stealing the Book means helping your sister — and not dying — I can do that. They’re right that Queen Wasp and the Librarian already know everything that’s in it anyway.”
Swordtail had given up on untying his vines and lay in an undignified heap on the path, frowning at them. From his angle, Blue was pretty sure Swordtail couldn’t read what Cricket had written. But it didn’t matter — once they were away from the LeafWings, he’d explain, and Swordtail would understand.
“Sounds like we’re all in agreement,” Swordtail said.
Blue sighed and leaned forward to brush away Cricket’s message. “All right,” he called. “We’ll steal the Book of Clearsight for you.”
Cricket’s plan began to fall apart immediately. In the first place, the LeafWings were adamant that Sundew had to go with them to sneak into the temple.
“What?” Cricket said. “How? There’s no way to get her through the Hive unnoticed. The first guard who spots her will kill her — in fact, any HiveWing who sees her would probably do the same.”
“It’s true,” Blue agreed. “There are terrifying posters about you everywhere.”
“We’ve been working on that,” Belladonna said. Blue couldn’t help thinking she seemed remarkably unconcerned about sending her daughter into danger. The tall LeafWing produced a pair of leaves that were similar in shape to the second, smaller pair of wings on a SilkWing. Sundew stood still, shooting daggers at Cricket with her eyes, while Belladonna and Hemlock fastened the fake wings below and behind her real ones, using a system of rigging them with vine ties under Sundew’s many pouches.
“No flying,” Hemlock said sternly, touching Sundew’s snout.
“But as long as she keeps her wings folded, it should be convincing enough inside the Hive,” Belladonna said. “Walking up to the guards outside, in sunlight, with plenty of opportunity for them to watch her coming — that was the part we were having trouble with.” She smiled at Cricket, a smile that went nowhere near her eyes. “That’s where you come in.”
“She’s still very green and leafy-looking,” Cricket protested. “Even her real wings look like leaves. And she’s so green. Blue, there aren’t any SilkWings that green, are there?”
He spent a moment trying to remember all the green SilkWings he knew, before he realized that Cricket wanted him to say: “Oh, no, never that green.”
“We can fix that, too,” Sundew said spiritedly. She dumped out one of her pouches, sending a rainstorm of flower petals to the ground. Without choosing carefully, she grabbed a scarlet flower and rubbed it on her shoulder, leaving a patch of reddish green.
“Let me,” Hemlock said, gently taking the flower out of her talons. He sorted the petals quickly into piles by color, then started applying rubbings of yellow, red, and blue in an even pattern.
Cricket watched skeptically, but Blue was fairly impressed. It wasn’t as thorough as the paint Cricket had put on him, but it did make Sundew look much less like a LeafWing by the time Hemlock was done. Although maybe not quite a SilkWing. She looked a little too furious to be a real SilkWing, and the combination of colors wasn’t exactly beautiful. But Belladonna might be right; it was at least possible now that Sundew could pass through the corridors of Wasp Hive without getting caught.
Wait. That’s bad, he remembered. We want to leave her behind. We’ll never be able to escape with her watching us.
But there was no way to convince the LeafWings without raising their suspicions — and then it got worse.
“These two stay behind with us,” Belladonna said, pointing to Blue and Swordtail.
“No way,” Swordtail blurted.
Cricket folded back her wings and lifted her chin. “I’m not going without them,” she said. “I won’t do it. I don’t trust you.”
“And I don’t trust you, HiveWing,” said Belladonna. “Which is exactly why they’re staying where I can keep an eye on them. You can have them back when I have the Book.”
“No,” Cricket said, standing her ground. “I can’t do this alone.”
“You’ll have Sundew,” Belladonna pointed out.
“Yeah!” Sundew said. “You’ll have ME. That’s like the opposite of being alone. I can do anything twenty dragons can do.”
“I need my friends,” Cricket said firmly.
Belladonna and Hemlock exchanged a long, thoughtful look. Finally, Hemlock said, “Just one.”
“Both,” said Cricket.
“One,” said Belladonna. “Choose which, or we’ll kill one of them and make your choice very easy.”
Cricket hesitated. Blue felt awful for her. How could they all escape if one of them was stuck in the greenhouse? But there wasn’t anything she could do; he could see that.
“Blue,” Cricket said in a subdued voice. “I’ll take Blue.”
“You should take Swordtail,” he said. “He’s a better fighter than me, if things go bad.”
“I assume that’s what she’s for,” Cricket said, nodding at Sundew. “I really want you to come with me, Blue. Please?”
He realized that she was scared, maybe even more scared than he was. She had gotten into this for him, and she felt safer with him than Swordtail, who she barely knew and who had a tendency to say mean things about HiveWings. Blue was afraid he’d be more than useless to her — but if she wanted him, he’d go to the ends of Pantala, or anywhere she asked.
“Of course,” he said. Maybe they’d have a chance to slip away from Sundew. Maybe they’d come up with a way to save Swordtail and get out of this … even if he couldn’t think of any solutions right now.
Hemlock cut them loose and let Cricket use some of the flower dye to cover the spots where Blue’s real colors were showing through. The result was lopsided and weird-looking, like he had some kind of scale disease where bits of him were flaking off. But maybe that would make other dragons, especially HiveWings, keep their distance from him.
The day felt endless and yet it was alarmingly soon when Belladonna said, “It’s dusk. Time to go.”
Blue took one of Swordtail’s talons in his and squeezed. “We’ll come back for you,” he said.
“I know,” Swordtail said. “With the Book. I know you can do it.”
How do I tell him we’re only pretending? Blue thought desperately. How do I warn him he needs to escape?
There was no way. Hemlock was standing next to him, watching them like a hawk.
“Right,” Blue said. “See you soon, Swordtail.”
Sundew led them through the tangled greenery to the back of the greenhouse, facing away from the Hive. Carefully she tapped on a pane of the glass wall, then wedged her claws in the cracks around the edges and levered it out.
“Oh!” Cricket said. “I wondered what you did to get in. Oh dear, isn’t that going to be bad for the plants?”
“I don’t care two frogs about the plants,” Sundew snapped. “Go on.”
Cricket ducked through the opening. As Blue crouched to follow her, he saw Belladonna poke Sundew between the shoulders so she’d stand more upright.
“Make us proud,” she said to her daughter. “Do not fail. Remember this is what you were hatched to do. Remember how evil they are. Let your rage carry you.”
“Yes, Belladonna,” Sundew said firmly. “I will not fail.”
And then Blue was outside, on one of the neat paths, standing next to Cricket under a whale-gray sky. Low clouds blotted out the moons and most of the st
ars. The rainy season was definitely upon them.
Sundew emerged a moment later, sliding the glass back into place behind her. They slipped silently between the greenhouses, weaving toward the front of Wasp Hive. As they got closer, Sundew held up one talon to stop them, then darted to the next corner and peered out at the Hive entrance.
“Two guards,” she whispered. “Then this should work.” She dug into a pouch and carefully pulled out a wooden box, which she opened to reveal a flower the size of a stingray and the color of moonlight. “Take this,” she said to Cricket. “CAREFULLY. Do NOT crush any part of it until you get close to the guards. Then make them look at it, and smash it under their noses.”
“What will it do?” Cricket asked, eyeing the beautiful white bloom. “Is it poisonous? Where did it come from? I don’t want to poison anyone.”
“It won’t poison them,” Sundew said impatiently. “It’ll just knock them out for a while. Don’t you inhale it, though, or you’ll be useless to us.”
Cricket held the flower as far away from her as she could, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the cluster of greenhouses. She moved slowly, cautiously hobbling on three legs so she could hold the flower up in one talon with infinite gentleness.
It hit Blue suddenly that this was a dangerous turning point for Cricket. Up until now, she hadn’t been seen with the fugitives. She could have returned home at any moment, slipping back into her ordinary life with a shrug and an excuse about mind control and hunting, or something like that.
But now she was facing real HiveWing guards, who were likely to remember her. Whatever happened next, Cricket would be in trouble — probably really bad trouble.
I’m so sorry, Cricket, Blue thought mournfully. I wish … His thoughts trailed off. He couldn’t say “I wish we hadn’t met,” because that was the furthest thing from the truth. He wished she was safe, that was all.
Both guards leaped to their feet when they saw her approaching.
“Halt!” one of the guards called. Cricket stopped where she was, halfway to the door, and the guards started whispering to each other.
Blue glanced over at Sundew, who was watching with tension humming from every bone in her body. She looked ready to sprint out there and stab the guards if they so much as sneezed funny.
“So,” he said to her. “Your mother said you were hatched for this … what’s that all about?”
Sundew looked over her shoulder at him incredulously. “Are you seriously making small talk with me right now?”
“No!” he protested. “That wasn’t small talk! That was big talk. Actual talk? I actually want to know, I mean.”
“It’s nothing mystical,” Sundew growled. “She wanted a daughter to carry on our family’s legacy. She trained me my whole life for one purpose: this.”
“Stealing the Book of Clearsight?”
She narrowed her eyes and paused for a moment. “Sure.”
That didn’t sound like the whole story, but now the guards were calling Cricket forward again.
“Who are you?” one of them asked. “Why weren’t you back by curfew?”
“And what have you got there?” asked the other.
“I found something amazing,” Cricket said. “The queen will want to see it right away.” It was hard to hear her from here; her voice was much quieter than the guards’. Blue strained to listen.
“Unless it’s a map to that blasted flamesilk, she’s going to bite your head off,” said the first guard. “I’d try the Librarian first if I were you, little dragon. She likes unusual things.”
“And she’s a bit less murdery than the queen,” agreed the second guard, smiling.
Blue felt a sharp twist of guilt. These guards were so friendly. And they were going to be in so much trouble if Blue and Sundew got into the Hive and Queen Wasp found out. Would they lose their jobs, or would their punishment be even worse? He worried at one of his claws. Why did it have to be such nice, friendly guards in their way?
A voice in his head that sounded like Luna whispered, Maybe they’re only friendly because they’re talking to a HiveWing. Have you ever seen a guard be that nice to a SilkWing? Did you even know they COULD smile?
These same guards might have been out for the last three days hunting you. They might have been in the unit that came to shove me in a cage. They might spend their other shifts poking flamesilks with spears to make them burn faster.
Blue shivered, trying to shake off the voice.
“So what is it?” the first guard asked, craning his neck as Cricket approached.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she said. “And it smells like nothing I’ve ever smelled before.” She held out the flower between the two guards, so they both leaned in to sniff it.
And then Cricket squeezed her claws shut, crushing the petals in her grip.
Blue couldn’t see exactly when it hit them, but a moment later, the guards crumpled to the ground. One of them hit his head on the Hive wall as he fell and Cricket flinched, reaching toward him too late. She crouched over him, folding in his splayed wings and checking his pulse. The pearlescent flower lay where she’d dropped it on the dirt, its edges brown and wrinkled now.
Sundew sprinted toward the entrance and Blue scrambled to follow her.
“Leave them,” Sundew snapped at Cricket. “I don’t know how much they got or how long it’ll last. If I were you, I would have shoved it right up their snouts.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to do that,” Cricket said crossly. “And it worked fine, didn’t it? What kind of flower is that? Is it related to nightshade?”
Blue bent over the second guard, surreptitiously making sure she was alive (she was) and that she’d fallen in a comfortable position. Sundew strode on without waiting, and both Cricket and Blue had to jump up and run after her, under the malevolent gaze of the giant Queen Wasp statue.
The ground-level doors to the Hive were massive and ostentatiously made of wood, with wasps carved all over them and a profile of the queen on each side. Sundew paused in front of one for a moment, then reached up and raked her claws across the queen’s elegant snout, leaving splintery furrows in the wood.
“That was unnecessary!” Cricket protested. “You ruined a really nice carving!”
“Wait until I get to her actual face,” Sundew snarled. She yanked the door open a crack and peeked through, then shoved it a little farther and squeezed herself through the gap. Blue and Cricket went next, spilling out onto the streets of Wasp Hive’s lowest level.
What they saw was a deserted street of warehouses: rows and rows of blocky buildings, each a perfect beige cube reaching from floor to ceiling with one large door. Storage, Blue guessed, although of what exactly he wasn’t sure. Each door was marked with a symbol, all of which were unfamiliar to him.
He only had a moment to think about it because Sundew had already started up the path that led to the next level. Blue ran after her and caught her shoulder.
“WHAT?” she snapped.
“Let Cricket go first,” he said. “And walk like a normal SilkWing. We don’t charge around with I-have-somewhere-to-be-and-someone-to-set-on-fire faces. Even if your disguise was way better than it is, walking and scowling like that will get you caught in a heartbeat.”
“Fine,” she said, fuming. “Show me how you walk.”
Blue turned to Cricket. “Have you been here before?” he asked her. “Do you know where the temple is?”
“Yes,” she said. “My class visited the temple last year, and my dad took me a couple of times. It’s up in the center of the Hive.”
He nodded and stepped back so she could lead the way. Then he ducked his head and trailed after her, looking as harmless and inconspicuous as he could.
Sundew fell into step beside him, growling and muttering under her breath.
“Tuck your chin a little more,” Blue suggested softly. “Keep your eyes on the ground. Don’t look directly at any HiveWings. Try not to make any noise.”
She hissed at
him. “You’re just like I always pictured SilkWings,” she spat. “Subservient worms.”
He stopped midstep and frowned at her. “We are not,” he said. “We’re pacifists, yes. And we follow the rules. But it’s kept us alive, hasn’t it? There’s a lot more SilkWings left in the world than LeafWings. I bet,” he added hurriedly, since he wasn’t actually sure. Up until this morning, he’d have guessed the number of LeafWings left was zero.
But he must have been right, because she spun and glared at him. “If you’d been willing to fight with us, we’d all still be alive!”
“Or we’d all be dead,” he pointed out. “The significantly more likely scenario.”
“I don’t know why Willow wants to save your tribe,” Sundew snapped. “You’re as much of a problem as the HiveWings, with your nodding and smiling and agreeing to let them trample all over you. I’d throw you all into the sea if it were up to me.”
Cricket came back around the bend in the tunnel. “Can we try to be a little more quiet?” she said. “We’ll be at the residential levels soon.”
Which meant more dragons around, and more HiveWings who might overhear Sundew and Blue arguing. He bit back everything he wanted to say to the LeafWing and hurried after Cricket, walking like he normally did around HiveWings, which was a perfectly fine way to walk, he thought, in that it kept you out of trouble, and it was polite, and was Sundew right? Was he confusing obedience and good behavior with letting the HiveWings trample all over him?
What else was I supposed to do, exactly? he wondered. Stare right at HiveWings, speak up, pick fights? End up on Misbehaver’s Way all the time like Swordtail? I don’t like being yelled at. Acting the way I do has been a good way to avoid that.
Wasp Hive was constructed much like Cicada Hive, but bigger, with wider hallways and tunnels and higher ceilings on each level. The walls of the tunnels were painted with black and yellow stripes or six-sided honeycomb patterns, alternating by level. Weavings and posters of Queen Wasp glared at them around every bend.
The tunnels became busier as they ascended, and Blue drew closer to Cricket with a nervous jittering in his chest. They passed a family of HiveWings arguing over where to go for dinner; a SilkWing carrying a basket of clean blankets; a pair of HiveWings singing and teasing each other about getting the words wrong. Everyone seemed so normal. Their lives were carrying on despite days spent under the queen’s mind control. A few of them nodded politely at Cricket, but nobody even glanced at Blue or Sundew.
The Lost Continent (Wings of Fire, Book 11) Page 15
