Part IV: Traitors

"Traitor!" Pyrite bared her teeth and flared her wings. Smoke billowed up from her golden snout. Her heart and mind, usually so oddly empty, were consumed by a complete, burning hatred.

This dragon - this monster - had betrayed Queen Scarlet. Their perfect, benevolent queen. How could she? How could anyone ever disobey Her Majesty?!

Pyrite glared down at Sparrow, a wiry red SkyWing, her former friend. For years, they had worked side by side. Now, to Pyrite's shock and horror, it looked like Sparrow had done the unthinkable: conspiring to assassinate their wonderful, glorious queen.

A smashed vial of sweet-smelling extract bled across the cave's floor. The very poison that could have taken Queen Scarlet's life.

Pyrite caught a whiff of it and shivered with rage. She kept the traitorous spy pinned down. "How could you?"

Further evidence of Sparrow's treason - secret maps and letters that Pyrite had just discovered - lay burnt and scattered all around Sparrow's cave. They fluttered in a chilly draft, like desperate little birds trying to fly free.

"I can explain!" cried Sparrow. "I just... I just want to end the bloodshed. These dragons, The Talons of Peace, they don't mean us harm. They're going to end the war!" Her eyes widened as she pleaded with Pyrite, but the golden dragon felt only revulsion and rage.

The Talons of Peace! How deep did the treason go?

"Please, Pyrite," Sparrow croaked. "Please..." Blood trickled where Pyrite's talons had pierced her scales. "Join us," begged the traitor. "Help us save Pyrrhia. Don't you want to be free from Queen Scarlet?"

Free from Queen Scarlet. That brought back a horrible, creeping, cold feeling. One of those false memories of flying through a far-off, frozen sky. Pyrite shivered. Then a white hot flash seared through her mind.

Pyrite let out a blast of flame and lunged for Sparrow's neck, her jaws snapping down with the vengeful force of a killing bite...

Sunlight streamed in, flooding the flower-filled hut with warmth and color.

Hailstorm still felt cold.

He wrapped his wings around his own shivering scales. He no longer had to remind himself of his name. After months of confusion, he'd finally sorted his "Pyrite" and "Hailstorm" memories into two equally bloody boxes.

Now he just had to deal with those two lifetimes of regret. He gritted his teeth and growled.

All his life, he had been blindly loyal to something. First to the Ice Kingdom, then to the Sky Kingdom, then back to those cold circles again. Looking back, with a critical eye, the brutal class system of the IceWings seemed just as bad as Queen Scarlet's court. At least he had chosen to follow the IceWing government, though now that just made him feel worse about what he had done. He couldn't blame his old IceWing prejudices on a magical curse.

But now he was free. Free to fly off to other kingdoms, to break every rule in the long list of IceWing laws, to go on mango-sticky "dates" with whichever dragon he wished...

So why did he feel more trapped than ever?

Fatespeaker had left a pamphlet of news inside, along with fresh cuts of plumerias. Hailstorm studied the flowers for a moment. Their vibrant shades of pink and purple still took his breath away. Then he picked up the pamphlet and brought it outside to read, blinking against the too-bright sun and smiling weakly at his too-cheerful neighbors. Three moons, he wondered, do these dragons ever stop smiling?

The news was from Sanctuary, of course. All of Pyrrhia was watching that mess of a town, waiting to see if it hatched a revolution. The headline read: FISHY BUSINESS? ICEWING REBELS SEEK SUPPORT FROM QUEEN CORAL. The news of the Roses meetings with the Sea Kingdom was positive, if written in a dreadfully common style.

"Hey, Hailstorm!"

Hailstorm set the news pamphlet down and peered up at the sky. His heart squeezed when he recognized the splash of bright pink above him. Jambu. He didn't even realize Fatespeaker was flying with the RainWing until she, too, landed. When she tossed him a papaya it banged right into his snout.

"Whoops, sorry!" Fatespeaker cried. Beside her, Jambu obviously stifled a grin. "Jambu and I just brought Glory some breakfast," the NightWing explained. "Deathbringer also, um, interrogated me. But Glory's doing great!"

"Excellent news," Hailstorm replied, with a genuine sigh of relief. "And I'm glad to hear of my brother's... fishy business."

He showed the pamphlet to Jambu, but the RainWing just laughed. "I can't read."

Hailstorm blinked. "Oh."

"Well, I've gotta go check on the new NightWing villages," Fatespeaker said. "I guess Jambu will have to look out for you today, Hailstorm." She turned and gave Jambu the least subtle wink in the world. "Make sure he doesn't run into any boa constrictors!"

What in the ice's name is a boa constrictor? Though inwardly shivering, Hailstorm nodded and bid Fatespeaker a formal farewell.

Hailstorm stared down at his papaya. He'd been eating meat lately, as it turned out many of the NightWings still hunted for food, but he didn't want to offend Fatespeaker by refusing her gifts of fruit. He was eager to hunt more rainforest game, though he had already caused a minor scandal by trying to eat a sloth. If they're so sacred, why do they smell like food? he wondered hopelessly.

"Would you like some?" he asked Jambu, offering it stiffly.

"Of course!" Jambu grabbed the heavy fruit and broke it open with his strong tail. WHACK! "Ah, papaya," he mused. "Our symbol of everlasting love."

Hailstorm pulled back. "Really?" His wings blushed blue.

"No, geez, we're not that obsessed with food," Jambu laughed. "Gotcha!" He tapped Hailstorm's tail. "But I sure love papaya. Thanks."

Hailstorm had been on exactly one "date" in his entire life, but even he was pretty sure that secret investigations weren't typical second dates.

Still, he had to admit, there were worse places he could be than sneaking through the Rainforest, pressed wing-to-wing with Jambu. None of the snooping and spying he'd done back in the IceWing Palace had seemed half so fun as this.

"Over there, that's the NightWing hunting ground." Jambu explained quietly, pointing with his wing toward a dark, dense dip in the jungle. A fierce river rushed just up ahead. "Some of the RainWings complained after they burned down part of the rainforest." Jambu winced. "And their hunting strategies, uh... aren't so nice. So the more 'traditional' NightWings agreed only hunt along this river. Fierceteeth's village is just up ahead." He grinned at Hailstorm. "We can poke around there for clues!"

For the sake of propriety, Hailstorm tried to smile back. That seemed to be the norm here. RainWings went around grinning at everything, and even the NightWings seemed strangely positive. Every so often, a dragonet would shrink away from Hailstorm, reminding him that he had accidentally slipped back into his old IceWing glower. He couldn't help it; years of frowning wouldn't melt away in a day.

But smiling turned out to be easier with Jambu at his side.

"Okay, here's the plan." Jambu's voice dropped to a low whisper, and Hailstorm felt another odd chill. "We're not supposed to be sneaking around like this, so make sure you camouflage -" Jambu stopped, glanced back at Hailstorm's woefully sparkly scales, and groaned. "Oh. Nevermind. Uhhh... Give me a sec."

Many seconds later, Jambu came up with new plan. It wasn't quite as sophisticated as Hailstorm had hoped. In fact, it had only one step: dunking Hailstorm in the mud.

If it were anyone else, Hailstorm would have been violently offended. But it was Jambu, smiling that sunbeam of a smile with a devilish spark in his eyes, so Hailstorm kept his snout shut and smeared the mud and leaves all over his shimmering scales.

"There!" Jambu said cheerfully. "No more sparkles."

"Ice and snow," Hailstorm growled, staring down at his own scales in mortification. What would the First Circle think of you now! cried his inner IceWing snob.

Then Jambu shifted to his own scales to match, and flashed Haistorm another grin. Suddenly the snobby voice inside fell silent.

They crept into the NightWing village together. Hailstorm spotted a few colorful RainWings flitting around in the distant, but none dared to stray close to the NightWings' huts. So, thought Hailstorm, the Rainforest isn't very united after all. Fatespeaker's peaceful village, with its equal mix of NightWings and RainWings, wasn't the whole story here. Hailstorm should have felt smug about that. Instead, it just left him with an empty sense of dread.

The foliage around the NightWing village was burnt and blackened, ruined by careless blasts of fiery breath. Hailstorm's scales prickled as he recalled similar sights from battlefields. Turn back! screamed his IceWing instincts. This is madness!

He hesitated for a moment. Then, following Jambu's lead, he slipped into Fierceteeth's hut.

The place was a mess, strewn with strange trinkets and old bones. NightWings seemed to have a habit of gnawing on their old prey bones, something only the lowest of peasant IceWings did. How disgusting, Hailstorm thought, carefully stepping around the reeking leftovers. He had to lift his tail high to keep from smacking into all the junk, from bits of rock to coconut shells, that Fierceteeth and Strongwings had accumulated.

Some potted plants, of all things, took up the center of the hut. Hailstorm nearly knocked one over with a careless shift of his wings.

"Goodness," he muttered, "it will take centuries to search this waste heap."

"Don't worry," Jambu said cheerfully, "Fatespeaker said she's sure they're out of town for another week. We'll have plenty of time to -"

A sudden sound rumbled through the shadows. A vicious growl. It shook Hailstorm to the bone. Jambu jumped and turned bright yellow. The IceWing and RainWing both slowly turned to the entrance, where a shadowy figure spread her spangled wings and bared her bloody teeth.

"What the fire are you doing in my den?!" snarled the furious NightWing.

"Fierceteeth! Hey!" Jambu grinned and slowly edged himself in front of Hailstorm, who had already flared his frills and spat a warning wisp of frostbreath. "Woooah, Hailstorm, watch out with that ice-stuff..."

Both Hailstorm and Fierceteeth stayed ready to strike.

"It's me, Jambu," Jambu stammered, "Glory's -"

"Obnoxious half-brother," Fierceteeth finished. "Yeah, I remember. But why are you here? With a filthy IceWing, too?" She glared at Hailstorm again, and added disdainfully, "Literally filthy."

Hailstorm snarled, though he had to admit that was true. After all those years of polishing his scales to spotless perfection, it felt rather strange and itchy to be covered in mud. He angrily scratched at his wing. "Deathbringer suspects you of a crime," he snapped. "We're here to see if he's right."

"Ha!" Fierceteeth barked out a bitter laugh, shooting sparks from her snout. "Deathbringer would say anything to get me out of the way. He's hated me ever since I tried to save our kingdom from your stupid sister." She glared at Jambu, definitely unfazed by his 'good old Jambu charm.'

Insulting her queen! To a prince! Hailstorm was shocked when Jambu didn't strike Fierceteeth for such insolence. Why in the moons' name is this dragon even allowed to live in the Rainforest Kingdom?

"And I haven't done anything, by the way," Fierceteeth growled. "You fruit-eaters destroyed my kingdom. Ruined my tribe!" She let out an angry huff of smoke. "No use trying to save it now."

How could Jambu just stand there and allow his tribe to be insulted by a foreigner? Especially a barbaric NightWing. Hailstorm couldn't allow it. "Well," he said, with a cool flutter, "perhaps if the Night Kingdom weren't such a mess, it would be worth saving."

Jambu shot him a warning glance. "Hailstorm..."

Fire flared in the NightWing's dark eyes. Clearly, that had struck a nerve.

"Ooh, that is fresh, coming from you," she snarled.

Hailstorm stiffened.

"High and mighty Hailstorm," Fierceteeth sang tauntingly. "The traitor IceWing. Yeah, I've heard of you."

A year ago, Hailstorm would have blasted her with frost before she even finished that sentence. Now, swallowing his pride, he straightened up and said, coldly quiet, "Excuse me?"

Fierceteeth narrowed her eyes. "You're one of those rebel princes who sacked the IceWing palace, aren't you? A crazy revolutionary!" She laughed. "You're no better than me."

"You have no idea what you speak of," Hailstorm replied stiffly. "The centuries of conflict behind our -"

"Oh, you think the Night Kingdom didn't have centuries of conflict? How about when one of you blasted our queen in the face? Or murdered our king? Or brought the animus curse to our tribe?" Generations of hatred burned in Fierceteeth's eyes, and Hailstorm felt the same rage rising up within him. "You mock us," Fierceteeth growled, "for falling apart, but you IceWings are weaker than pumice."

Hailstorm didn't know what pumice was, but he still felt offended. "Our revolution is nothing like your petty treason!" he spat back.

"Yeah, right." Fierceteeth rolled her eyes and shot more sparks. "We're both traitors, frost-head. Wait and see what you'll have to do when your kingdom falls."

Fierceteeth tensed again, ready to lunge.

This time, Hailstorm's gaze met hers: ice blue to obsidian black. Two broken mirrors, reflecting two tribes' absolute hatred.

"Hey, hey!" Jambu burst in. He unfurled his wings and shoved one between the two glowering dragons.

Hailstorm jerked back, startled by the sudden press of a warm, colorful wing against his chest.

Finally turning back to Jambu, Fierceteeth growled, "This is about your stupid sister, isn't it?" Jambu gulped, and she rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows something's up with her. Why is she hiding in her hut now? Do you think I sent her another death threat? I didn't!"

As much as Hailstorm wanted to freeze this dragon dead, her growled questions made him pause. She seemed genuinely confused. As if she truly had no idea about the assassination attempt. And, Hailstorm reasoned, she's probably not intelligent enough to lie so well. He looked to Jambu, allowing the RainWing to take the lead.

"Strongwings and I were both visiting Old Night Kingdom last week," Fierceteeth explained. "He's still there, poking around the ruins." Her enraged snarl slowly faded back to a slight-annoyed growl. "Greatness was there, too. Just ask her."

"Why?" Hailstorm pressed. It didn't add up. Why would Fierceteeth return alone? Who is Greatness? What does she have to do with this?

Fierceteeth's eyes flashed. Her guard went back up. "None of your business, walrus-eater."

How dare she. As if some low class NightWing could even afford walrus meat! Hailstorm's icy frills flared again.

"All right, thank you," Jambu stammered out. "We'll check that out!" He nudged Hailstorm toward the door. "Uh, see you around, Fierceteeth! Thanks!"

They scrambled out of the NightWing village as fast as their wings could carry them. Apparently Jambu's makeshift camouflage was effective, because someone called after them, "Hey, what's a MudWing doing here?"

Hailstorm was too busy fleeing for his life to feel adequately offended.

As an IceWing, Hailstorm should have been an expert on all things cool. Still, it took him a while to cool down after that. Fierceteeth's taunts had brought back a whole slew horrible memories. And a stinking heap of hatred that Hailstorm hadn't remembered holding onto. "NightWings," he snarled, momentarily forgetting that he was living with a NightWing (albeit a much kinder and purpler one).

Jambu sighed. "Look, I know Fierceteeth's a total jerk," he muttered, "but I do feel kinda bad for her. She's been through a lot." He shivered. "Animus magic. It was messed up."

Animus magic. Hailstorm froze. "What?"

"Oh." Jambu snapped his snout shut and turned banana yellow. "Whoops, there I go again. Gossiping like a parrot!" Conflicted shades of green burst across his wings, but eventually, he lowered his voice and explained, "During that magical war last year, Darkstalker turned her into a whole different dragon. Isn't that crazy?"

Hailstorm felt a horrible, hot sickness rise up in his gut. A whole different dragon. His stomach turned. Then came the flood of pent-up terror. The flashes of memories. All the fear and sadness and rage from that life that wasn't his.

"Yes," he said. "Crazy, indeed."

Jambu frowned. "Are you okay?" He reached out a wing, but Hailstorm flinched away. It was not right to lean on another dragon. That would be an admission of weakness.

Now Hailstorm was losing face in front of the one dragon he truly wanted to impress. Pull yourself together, he thought. You weakling.

Three moons, his inner voice sure sounded a lot like Tundra's snarl.

"Yes," he said, straightening up and stiffening his tone. He noticed his filthy wings were shaking and furled them tight.

Jambu smacked himself with a pink wing. "Oh, moons, I totally forgot you IceWings were at war with the NightWings." He cringed, evidently thinking that Hailstorm's little freakout was due to some sort of war trauma. That made a lot more sense than the strange, magical truth. "Look, look..." His scales shifted to a more sullen shade. "I shouldn't have asked you to tag along. I'm sorry."

"No." Hailstorm shook his head. In his panicked state, he decided he desperately wanted to keep tagging along with Jambu. "No, no, I owe it to you. I... I do want to help." Ice and snow, that is a most improper way to speak.

Jambu seemed to notice Hailstorm's discomfort, and didn't pry. "Us RainWings have had trouble with the NightWings, too," said Jambu. "I'm sure you've heard."

Hailstorm nodded, feeling a guilty twinge. He'd been so wrapped up in his own tribe's mess, he'd forgotten how complicated the RainWings' history was.

"Every tribe's got its issues, huh?" Jambu stayed serious for a moment more, then shifted back to his usual cheerful colors. "Say, why don't we talk to Greatness next? She's way nicer than that grumpy-snout Fierceteeth." He grinned. "Plus, she and Maggie throw the best treetop parties."

A bunch of RainWings and NightWings galavanting around the treetops sounded like utter chaos to Hailstorm, but the hopeful sparkle in Jambu's eye made his icy heart race. He hesitated, then nodded. "Sure." He tried to smile, as was proper here. "That sounds like great fun."

"Great fun!" Jambu repeated, imitating Hailstorm's stiff accent. He laughed, flapping his multi-colored wings. "They're the greatest fun, Hailstorm!"

There it was again. That odd, sunny feeling in Hailstorm's chilly core. It wasn't unpleasant. He let himself warm, just a bit.

Hailstorm stayed up long into the night, dreading the dreams that he knew would return. Back in Sanctuary, when those memories and nightmares haunted him, he had found himself wishing he was back in the IceWing Palace. At least there, even with all the cruelty and secrets, he knew who he was. He had a place in that world.

But now, tossing and turning in the hot rainforest night, Hailstorm didn't wish for that. He couldn't. Not anymore. He had seen too much of this new world. Time to build a future outside of the circles, he reminded himself. Stop mooning over the monarchy that wants you dead.

He found himself mooning over something quite different now. Someone quite different. A colorful dragon with a smile like sunshine, whose laugh made Hailstorm's heart warm and thaw.

While Fierceteeth had proved immune to all of Jambu's charms, Hailstorm most certainly was not.