CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
RUNAWAY
EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT FROM WINGS OF FIRE BOOK NINE: TALONS OF POWER
ALSO AVAILABLE
COPYRIGHT
Note: The events of this story take place immediately after the prologue of Wings of Fire: Legends: Darkstalker, thousands of years before the events of Wings of Fire Book One: The Dragonet Prophecy.
Snow speckled the black dragon’s wings and shoulders. Small chunks of ice were caught between her claws, and she shook her talons to knock them loose before stepping into the tunnel. The smooth, curved channel led to a vast dome made of blocks of more ice, ice upon snow upon frozen ground.
But she wasn’t cold.
Foeslayer touched the diamond earring in her ear.
An enchantment just for me.
A dragon who doesn’t think I’m a total waste of space.
He’d gone in ahead of her, for the sake of appearances. Her eyes found him immediately as she entered the dome — even in the crowd of IceWings, he glittered the brightest. Not even his mother, Queen Diamond of the IceWings, could outshine him. Moon globes floating near the ceiling cast a cool, pale light that made the IceWings look polished and silvery, but turned the visiting black dragons dull and greenish.
Prince Arctic seemed to be listening raptly to his mother’s lecture, but his gaze flickered to Foeslayer for a brief moment. A moment of I see you. A moment of this is torture but I can survive it now that I’ve met you. A moment of you are the only other dragon in the world.
It took her breath away. The NightWings in her own kingdom never took Foeslayer seriously. She was too scatterbrained, too likely to blurt whatever she was thinking. She got too passionate over things nobody else cared about — like the way visiting merchant RainWings or MudWings were sequestered from the NightWings instead of being invited to their parties and festivals. Her friends sniffed that it served the RainWings right for the exorbitant prices they charged for their fruit, and that MudWings weren’t smart enough to be interesting anyway.
No one had ever looked at Foeslayer the way Arctic did — as though being different and a little weird was a good thing. As though it made her fascinating rather than annoying.
“Where have you been?” Her mother was suddenly there, blocking her view of Arctic, briskly brushing the snow off Foeslayer’s scales. “You look frightful and you must be freezing. I told you the prince was coming! Didn’t I say to stay put in your corner?”
“We’re in a dome,” Foeslayer pointed out. “It doesn’t have corners.”
Prudence narrowed her eyes at her daughter. “Foeslayer, don’t be a toadstool right now. I don’t need your smart mouth ruining everything.” She flicked Foeslayer’s ear with one of her claws, then stopped and peered at it sharply. Foeslayer winced in anticipation half a second before her mother’s claws closed in, pinching the diamond and sending a burst of pain through all the nerves of Foeslayer’s skull.
“Where did this earring come from?” Prudence snarled.
“Ow, ow, ow.” Foeslayer tried to pull away but her mother forced her back into a crouch. “It was a gift, that’s all, stop hurting me!”
Prudence let go suddenly with a hiss and jumped back, shaking her talon as though she’d been burned. Maybe she had — Foeslayer felt a glow of heat spreading from the earring. It’s enchanted to keep me safe from danger, too. Even from Mother.
“You cannot steal things from the IceWings,” Prudence hissed. “This is shocking even for you, Foeslayer.”
“I didn’t! An IceWing gave it to me!” Foeslayer protested.
“Which IceWing?” Prudence growled. “I told you not to talk to any IceWings!”
“Is everything all right here?”
Oh, it was bad, a bad, bad terrible thing that her heart leaped at the sound of his voice.
Too bad this earring isn’t smart enough to protect me from my own heart.
Prudence whirled and found Arctic standing regally behind her, his eyes cold and unfriendly. He must have almost flown across the dome to get there so quickly. The IceWing queen and a small entourage of aristocrats were hurrying after him.
“Prince Arctic,” Prudence said, drawing herself up to look as haughty as he did. “This need not concern you. I am merely chastising my wayward daughter, who seems to have found and kept an earring that does not belong to her.” She held out her open talon to Foeslayer with a meaningful glare. “I will make sure she returns it immediately.”
“By no means,” said the prince. He intercepted Foeslayer’s arm as she reached for the earring and pressed it back down to her side. His scales were cool, like running water, and his talons squeezed hers lightly, almost imperceptibly: I’m here for you. “I gave her that earring as a token of the forthcoming alliance between our tribes. It would be inexpressibly rude to reject it.”
“We met outside,” Foeslayer explained to her mother’s disbelieving face. “By accident.” Arctic, by all the moons, stop being so obvious. You’re going to get me killed. Prudence wasn’t the only one who looked angry. Queen Diamond was within earshot now, and her suspicious eyes stabbed through Foeslayer like icicles.
“I am very sorry my daughter bothered you,” Prudence said to Arctic. “Foeslayer, return to our chambers at once.”
“Absolutely,” Foeslayer agreed, with immense relief. She would really like to be anywhere but here right this moment. She saw Arctic open his mouth to protest and shot him an extremely stern “shut up” look. “I’ll go right now.”
“That is what ‘at once’ means,” Prudence said. Her frown deepened as Foeslayer started to back away. “Don’t you need this?” she barked, holding up her arm. On her wrist glinted the silvery metal of one of the animus-touched bracelets.
The IceWings had three of these bracelets, each enchanted to protect a dragon from the cold temperatures and defensive weaponry of the Ice Kingdom. Because there were only three, visiting diplomatic parties were craftily kept small and outnumbered at every meeting. And they were also a handy way to remind outsiders about the power of the IceWings’ animus magic.
But Foeslayer was an unexpected fourth member of the party. She was supposedly there so her mother could keep an eye on her, although she suspected one of the real reasons was that Queen Vigilance wanted to force the IceWings to reveal that they had a fourth bracelet.
If they did, though, they hadn’t produced it yet. So Foeslayer and her mother had to share one between them, meaning Foeslayer would be cold a lot.
Except now she had the earring.
But she couldn’t admit that it was magic or what it could do or, most of all, who had enchanted it for her. For one thing, the IceWings had strict rules about animus magic. Prince Arctic was only supposed to use his magic once, in a ceremony to create a gift for his tribe. He certainly wasn’t supposed to waste it on an unimportant, scatterbrained NightWing.
“Right,” she said to her mother, pretending to shiver. “Yes, please.”
“There are blankets in our rooms,” Prudence said, dismissing her with a wing flick. “Use those and you’ll be fine.”
That was typical Mother: She’d act outraged that you didn’t want something she was offering, and then as soon as you did want it (or pretended to want it), she’d say you couldn’t have it.
Foeslayer couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes behind Prudence’s back. Arctic’s gaze was still fixed on her, and she saw him crack a very small smile.
It wasn’t quite small enough, though.
Over by the translucent ice wall, another IceWing was staring at them.
Uh-oh.
Her name came back to Foeslayer instantly: Snowflake. That’s Arctic’s fiancée, Foeslayer remembered. The dragon he’s supposed to marry. The IceWing’s expression w
as impossible to read.
He’s taken. It was the first thing Foeslayer had learned about the prince, and yet she’d managed to forget it completely in the magic of meeting him (and in the actual literal magic of him enchanting an earring for her). He’s going to marry someone else.
But he never could have been mine anyway.
She bowed, turned her back on all the IceWings, and ducked into the tunnel.
So why did I agree to meet him in secret later tonight?
Am I still going to?
A smart dragon wouldn’t.
A smart dragon would keep her head down and make it home to the Night Kingdom instead of risking an intertribal incident.
She stepped out into a blizzard that had quietly crept up on them, icy petals blocking out the sky and sea. Near the entrance, she could still see the impression in the snow where Arctic had been standing during their conversation.
Yes, but … that smart dragon sounds perfectly miserable.
All right. So what if I choose not to be smart? It’s only one secret meeting. I just want to talk to him some more.
I mean, really, universe … what’s the worst that could happen?
Snowflake had always suspected that the IceWing royal family was full of snobs, and now that they were here in her parents’ palace, she was sure.
Queen Diamond said everything in a superior, condescending tone, peering down her snout as though your ignorance was a grave disappointment to her. She kept making snide comments about the state of the palace and how it could be improved. She never spoke to anyone below the First Circle, and she had clearly chosen Snowflake as her son’s fiancée because she thought Snowflake was the quietest option.
(Snowflake knew this because the queen had said it directly to her face. “You’re a dragon who knows how to keep her mouth shut,” Diamond had mused, gripping Snowflake’s chin in her talons to inspect her cheekbones. “Either you understand that I’m not interested in your opinions, or you don’t have any, which would be preferable. I suppose I’ll be able to tolerate your presence in my palace, so long as you make equally silent brats.”)
Frankly, Snowflake had no desire to live in the main IceWing palace, but soon she’d have no choice.
The only time she’d ever been there she’d spent the entire visit in a whirl of tests, competitions, and yet more tests to prove she deserved her place in the First Circle of the IceWing hierarchy. It was infuriating, particularly since many of the tests had been subtle and deliberately unfair — secret traps set by the queen so she could assess Snowflake’s strength, poise, diplomacy, and ability to come up with witty rejoinders whenever someone insulted her.
That last wasn’t Snowflake’s strength. She could do an excellent icy look of disdain, but all the cutting comebacks she should have said only came to her during the night, much too late, while she lay on her ice shelf, fuming.
The truth was she spent a lot of time fuming. It was a little surprising to her that Queen Diamond couldn’t sense the rage under her scales. All those years practicing her cool exterior must have paid off. Her parents had certainly drilled it into her over and over again: Freeze over your anger. Never let anyone see it. Nobody wants to hear about your feelings. Calm and collected on the outside; that’s all that matters.
She wasn’t sure how long she could keep it up, though. Especially around her future husband, Prince Arctic, who was the most arrogant, entitled, patronizing, obnoxious, preening, fatheaded son of a walrus she’d ever met.
He acted as though she were barely Seventh Circle, as though she had an obligation to entertain him when he was bored, and as though she had no brains in her head whatsoever.
How can I possibly marry him?
How am I supposed to look at his SMUG PRETENTIOUS FACE every single day for the rest of my life?
How am I going to last even a month without stabbing my claws through his superior eyeballs?
It was supposed to be such an honor to marry into the royal family. Her parents were ecstatic that all their work on her had paid off. Such glories lay ahead! Her dragonets might inherit animus magic! Her daughters would be directly in line for the throne!
First in line to get killed by their horrible grandmother, that is.
But there was nothing Snowflake could do to change her fate. She obviously couldn’t disobey her parents and her queen. She couldn’t even hint to them that she might not be interested in their plan for her life. She had to be polite to Arctic and bow deeply to his mother; she had to wear the mask of the perfect daughter, apparently forever.
Forever. Until they store my frozen head on the wall of dead royal family members and slide my corpse into the cold ocean.
Forever trapped in the main palace with Arctic and Diamond.
Unless I can find a way out.
She drew back against the wall of the dome, watching Arctic’s face as the loudmouthed NightWing left. She’d noticed the dazzled look in his eyes the moment he saw Foeslayer, and it was still there. He’d dismissed Snowflake, his moonsforsaken fiancée, as though she were an inconvenient dragonet underfoot. And then — it must have been only moments later — he’d given Foeslayer his diamond earring.
His earring. Of all the sappy nonsense. Only characters in very bad, very sentimental scrolls did stuff like that.
He probably thinks he’s very romantic.
With the WRONG DRAGON, you moron.
Not that she’d accept any jewelry from him if he offered. The rest of the tribe might find animus magic perfectly wonderful and useful, but Snowflake didn’t trust anyone with that kind of power.
“My, my, my,” said a voice that slithered like seals worming across a patch of ice. “Wasn’t that an interesting interaction.”
Snowflake swiveled her head around to face the approaching IceWing: female, slightly older than Snowflake, not from this palace, wearing a First Circle necklace. She was white with a scattering of gray-blue scales that looked like rippling shadows across her wings, and she moved like a confident predator.
Snowflake dipped her head in a polite half bow, wondering where their names each ranked on the wall and whether she should be bowing deeper. “Please accept my apologies, for I do not recognize your face,” she said. “I hope I am not bringing great dishonor upon my family.” That was one of the stock phrases she’d learned very young, designed to help dragonets wriggle out of awkward situations.
“No, we haven’t met yet,” said the new dragon, nodding back in a way that suggested her rank was higher. “I’m Snowfox.”
Oh, thought Snowflake. Queen Diamond’s niece. She’d certainly heard of this dragon, currently the only living heir to the IceWing throne.
Snowfox smiled, and tiny embedded gems glittered from her teeth. “Snowfox and Snowflake — we’re either destined to be great friends or terrible enemies, aren’t we? Let’s avoid any confusion; you may call me Fox.”
“Certainly, as long as you never call me Flake,” Snowflake said, smiling back.
Fox laughed. “I’m sure you’re anything but,” she said. “It must take a very cunning dragon to ensnare the talons of Prince Arctic.” Her dark blue eyes cut toward the remaining NightWings, her brows lifting innocently.
“I promise you, the only cunning dragon involved in this plan is the queen,” Snowflake answered, ignoring Fox’s implication. “I take no credit for the match.”
“Then true love with a handsome prince just fell into your talons?” Fox said slyly. “You must be the happiest dragon in the Ice Kingdom.”
“I am so lucky,” Snowflake agreed, letting the faintest whiff of sarcasm creep into her tone. “He’s very … charming.”
They both watched Arctic for a silent moment. Now that Foeslayer was gone, he had lapsed back into what appeared to be his usual sullen mood, grunting and scowling at everything anyone said to him.
“I’m sure there are many other dragons who would love to be in your scales,” Fox said, shooting another sideways glance at the NightWing delegation.
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“Naturally,” Snowflake said. “Who wouldn’t want to marry a prince and watch her daughters fight to the death for the throne?”
“Well,” said Fox. “True love. Right?”
“Indeed,” said Snowflake. “True love.”
Arctic snatched the last bright green drink from a passing tray and stared into it gloomily.
“He’s contemplating his noble reflection in the ice cubes,” Snowflake observed.
Fox clapped her talons around her own snout, but couldn’t hold back a snort so loud that several dragons turned to wrinkle their foreheads at her.
“Silvery moons,” she said when she’d recovered the power of speech and everyone was ignoring them again. “You have a depth of dark water below your ice, don’t you?”
“Only for my greatest friends … and most terrible enemies,” Snowflake replied, meeting Fox’s eyes.
“Now I’m quite sure which one I’d rather be.” Fox tipped her head, calculating. After a long moment, she said, “Do you know what will happen if you don’t end up having daughters with Prince Arctic?”
“I miss out on the tremendous fun of watching my mother-in-law rip them apart?” Snowflake guessed.
“That,” said Fox. “Also, only one dragon is left to challenge Diamond for the throne.”
Snowflake looked at her, realization dawning. “You.”
Fox tipped her head down modestly. “Me.”
“It seems,” Snowflake said slowly, “that you and I have some mutual goals.”
“Isn’t it wonderful to meet a dragon who’s a kindred spirit?” Fox said. She draped her tail lightly over Snowflake’s and leaned a little closer, her odd looks tipping over into beautiful inside Snowflake’s mind.
A dragon who understands me, finally. A dragon as deep and dark as I am, who sees my anger and wants to be nearer to it instead of freezing it away.
“I have a few ideas … if you’re interested,” said Fox.
“Whatever you have to say,” Snowflake said, “I’ll always be listening.”
The two IceWings bent their heads together, whispering, as the gale built into a howling snowstorm outside.
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