Part V: Sharp & Stinky

Picking mangoes-mangoes-mangoes, mango picking all day long.
Mangoes-mangoes-mangoes-mangoes, this is the mango-picking-song!

Jambu sang and hummed to himself as he picked his fresh breakfast. One of Kinkajou's little ditties. Glory had dubbed it "obnoxiously cheerful."

He felt particularly cheerful today, as he had a surprise in mind for his next date with Hailstorm. That handsome IceWing sure was taking up a lot of his time, and Jambu didn't mind one bit.

What if he's the one? sang Jambu's inner hopeless romantic. Though he was now infamous for all his failed crushes and flings, he had always secretly hoped to find a love like Mangrove and Orchid's. After these years, and several wars, those two were still going strong. Every summer, on their anniversary, they served the best jackfruit sweets.

By the time Jambu reached Fatespeaker's village, his eyes peeled wide for a certain glum IceWing, he was already dreaming up the menu for his anniversary party. He couldn't help it! I wonder if Hailstorm likes taro?

Fatespeaker had promised to meet Jambu for breakfast. She was late again, busy organizing some trip for Fruit Bat's plant-loving posse, but Jambu didn't mind. In the laid-back Rainforest, it was practically rude to not be late. Glory had quickly discovered that back when she tried to hold tribe-wide meetings.

"Hey, Fatespeaker!" Jambu called as she landed, tossing her a couple mangoes. The NightWing caught them with a laugh. Jambu looked around, and felt a pang of disappointment when he noticed a certain sparkle was missing from the sky. "Where'd Hailstorm go?"

"Oh, he went back to my hut," Fatespeaker replied. "Winter sent him some newsletters." She winced. "There's been trouble in Sanctuary again." Taking a bite of her mango, she muttered, "Seems like there's always trouble now."

"Ah, tumbling toucans," Jambu cursed, "there was something I wanted to show him." He plopped down next to Fatespeaker, spreading his wings wide to catch the sunshine.

"So," Fatespeaker started, fluttering her own starry wings, "you and Hailstorm..."

Jambu rolled over to soak up the sun. "What?" he laughed. "You know I like shiny things."

Fatespeaker smiled, but Jambu noticed some worry in her eyes. "You should take it slow," she advised. "Maybe no big flower sculptures this time." She held back a laugh. "And no musical performances."

Jambu turned red. Apparently word about his disastrous date with Boto had gotten around as well. "That was one time!" he protested.

"Okay, okay." Fatespeaker giggled, then solemnly took a bite of her mango. "Hailstorm's been through a lot lately, Jambu. It must have affected him, even if he'd never say it." She raised a brow. "He never says anything about himself, really. But I saw what's going on with the IceWings."

"Something with their palace, right?" Jambu had heard some of the news. All of Pyrrhia had heard by now. But after growing up in a laid-back tribe like the RainWings, he really had no idea what words like politics or caste system or representative government even meant. He hadn't even seen a real palace until Glory invited him along on a peace conference to the Sky Kingdom. The sight of all those walls and towers had made him turn cyan.

Fatespeaker nodded. "He and his brother fell in with the IceWing revolutionaries. Some of the rebels want to change the whole Ice Kingdom now. By any means necessary. I attended a few of the radical meetings, and, uh..." She winced. "They're not joking around."

For such a fun, bubbly dragon, Fatespeaker sure liked to hang out on the shady side of Pyrrhia. Jambu silently filed that away in the back his mango-filled thoughts, smiling all the while.

Fatespeaker lowered her voice now. "I don't know how Hailstorm feels about the whole thing. He seemed eager to get away from Sanctuary." She sighed. "I think I understand Winter now, but Hailstorm?" She shrugged. "He's a mystery."

"Hmm." Jambu's scales swirled as he puzzled over this. Another mystery! Double the investigation! He didn't know anything about this new world of revolution and change, but he wanted to learn, for Hailstorm's sake.

"Well, I bet he's like... like a durian," Jambu decided. "Sharp on the outside, but sweet on the inside."

"Sweet and stinky," Fatespeaker teased.

Jambu blushed. "Wait, no, I didn't mean... Not stinky." He flapped his wings. "I mean, I haven't been smelling him, but -"

Fatespeaker laughed. "Suuuure." She tossed her mango pits aside. "I've gotta go now. Starflight's due for a visit soon, and I've been trying to smooth things over with his family." She winced. "Sometimes I'm glad not to know who my own parents are."

"No parents squad!" Jambu said cheerfully. As a RainWing, he'd never seen that as a tragedy. Who needs parents when you have a whole village of friends? he thought brightly.

"Yeah." Fatespeaker smiled, but Jambu detected a hint of sadness in her eyes. "No parents squad."

After Fatespeaker flew off, leaving Jambu to his sunshine and food, the RainWing took a quick nap.

I'm really becoming a workaholic, he thought as he rose up again and shook out his wings. Only three hours of nap-time! But he didn't really mind. In light of the recent threat, the least he could do was sacrifice his habit of sleeping until lunch. He had an investigation to conduct, after all.

Without Hailstorm's charmingly chilly presence, Jambu hoped to have more success interviewing more of Fierceteeth's NightWing circle. Much as he loved that mysterious IceWing, even lovestruck Jambu had to admit that Hailstorm could be a bit... insensitive. Just yesterday, he'd been forced to explain why it wasn't a crime to help the weaker and injured RainWings reach their food.

He crept back toward Fierceteeth's troublesome village, ignoring the stares and glares. He was encouraged to see that most of the NightWings just ignored him. A few even nodded with begrudging respect. Jambu plastered on a big, hopeful smile. Things were changing slowly, but things would change. Hope bloomed like wildflowers here. Everywhere.

At least that's what Jambu believed. Even with a pack of angry young NightWings glaring down from the trees, he smiled up at them and tried to believe it.

This time, only a few of them hissed and growled.

Progress! Jambu grinned.

He stopped outside of Fierceteeth's hut. After last week's disaster, he knew he had to knock. "Hello?" he called. "Hello, Fierceteeth? I've got mangoes!"

Rustling and growls sounded from inside. Jambu hoped he hadn't interrupted Fierceteeth and Strongwings in the middle of one of their infamous fights. Those two shook the Rainforest whenever they argued. And it was even worse when they got back together again...

But it was not Fierceteeth who opened the charred door. Nor her rude and infuriatingly handsome boyfriend.

Jambu dropped his mangoes.

"Hailstorm?!" he exclaimed.

"Relax," growled Fierceteeth, from her shadowy corner. "I'm not going to roast him. Probably."

Jambu was not convinced. He sidled up to Hailstorm and whispered, "Blink if she's holding you captive."

"No, no." Hailstorm snorted, making a point not to blink. "I came here to apologize," he explained, "for I realized I'd been a bit impolite, last time we visited." Fierceteeth smoked and grumbled in agreement. "Then we started talking about other matters," Hailstorm added enigmatically.

"He's all right," Fierceteeth said. "For an IceWing."

Hailstorm raised a brow. "And she is quite wise," he said. "For a NightWing."

"Wow." For a few moments, Jambu just stood there, his wings banana-yellow with shock. Then he remembered that they had an assassin to catch. "Fierceteeth, while we're here..." He flashed her a big smile. "Have any NightWings been acting suspicious lately?"

"No," Fierceteeth growled, much too quickly, "but I've heard some RainWings hissing about your sister and her mate." She sneered smugly. "Your tribe isn't so loving and peaceful when it comes to someone marrying a NightWing, huh?" Her tail lashed as she added, "I wouldn't be surprised if all that slander ticked some NightWings off. We don't take lightly to all your giggles and glares!"

Jambu frowned. As a doting brother and proud RainWing, he wanted to protest. Everyone loves Glory! This grouch is just trying to blame us for the NightWings' crimes. He reminded himself to relax, shifting his scales to a calm shade of coral. "Who was it?" he asked, as kindly as he could.

Fierceteeth shrugged. "I don't know. A whole bunch." Her shifty gaze and gritted teeth didn't appear very honest. She glared at Jambu and muttered, "You RainWings gossip way too much."

"That's not true," Hailstorm snapped. "Don't spread such lies."

Jambu's heart gave a thud. Three moons, that IceWing was quick to defend him.

It was kind of romantic, but Jambu knew he had to defuse the situation, since getting blasted by fire was not romantic at all.

Holding back a sigh, he nodded and forced out a laugh. "No, no, it is true, we're real chatter-snouts!" Even an optimist like him could see that this conversation was a dead-end of prejudice and stereotypes. Time to get a move on. "Okay," he said, keeping a cheerful outlook on it all, "thanks for the help, anyway."

Jambu was glad to learn that whatever had happened between Hailstorm and Fierceteeth was both peaceful and platonic. Partially because he had his own eyes on Hailstorm, and partially because he knew that Fierceteeth's partner, Strongwings, would burn the Rainforest down to keep his tumultuous relationship with Fierceteeth going.

Regardless, Jambu suspected that Hailstorm only flew one way, as the RainWings put it. But the IceWing never spoke of such things. There were a lot of things that Hailstorm never spoke of.

"So," Jambu asked Hailstorm as they flew back, "how'd you and Fierceteeth come to that truce?"

"We have more in common than I thought," Hailstorm replied. "Fierceteeth and I."

Jambu laughed. "See, you're already picking up on our peaceful ways!"

Hailstorm smiled, though not without an icy trace of sadness. He fell quiet for a while.

Jambu flew alongside him in silence. It was practically torture for him to keep his trap shut, when there was so much great news to share. But he'd learned that Hailstorm valued peace and quiet, and Jambu valued Hailstorm's wishes.

"It's a bit strange," Hailstorm finally said. "I know, in my head, that the Ice Kingdom is wrong. But I had that life frozen into me. That hatred." He shook his head. "Somewhere along the line," he muttered, "I think it was sealed into my soul." He shook his head. "I don't know how to change that."

What a sad thing to say, thought Jambu, who had never pictured the soul as a cold or hateful thing. The RainWings sang of it as home of sunshine and song. Jambu wondered what the IceWings taught their dragonets. He wondered if they ever sang.

The gulf between their two cultures seemed to stretch wider and wider. Jambu studied the shadowed canopy below them. He was starting to recognize the comfort of silence.

"You and Fierceteeth didn't fight to the death," he reminded Hailstorm, smiling. "That's progress, isn't it?"

Hailstorm nodded.

"At the very least," Jambu added, "you made a friend! Can't ever have too many friends, can you?"

Hailstorm nodded. "A friend," he repeated, as if that were a foreign concept. Maybe, in the Ice Kingdom, it was.

"Well," Jambu went on, "if you're sure you not gonna freeze any NightWings now...

Somehow, Hailstorm managed an amused glare. "Quite sure."

Jambu laughed again. "Greatness and Maggie are holding a party next week, once Greatness returns from the Old Night Kingdom. We can go talk to her while she's setting up." Jambu fluttered his wings and passed Hailstorm his trusty pouch of darts. "You'll need these. There's always a dart-blowing contest." He grinned smugly. "And I'm the reigning champ. Let's see if you beat me!"

"I doubt that," Hailstorm replied, tucking them into the holder for that now-thawed-out dart gun that Jambu had given to him.

"Hey," Jambu said, slowing down to a gentle glide, "there's, uh... there's something I'd like to show you."

"More fruit?" asked Hailstorm. Another amused glare.

"Believe it or not," Jambu laughed, "it's even better."

Rain pattered lightly above. As they flew low through the trees (Hailstorm occasionally slamming into the branches), Jambu shared his poetic metaphor. In his own head, it still sounded flattering.

"A durian?" Hailstom echoed incredulously.

Jambu nodded. "Yep, one of my favorite fruits!"

Hailstorm's brow furrowed. "Don't those reek of rot?"

Jambu squirmed. "I mean, they're a little stinky..." His gaze flickered toward the faint silver light that glowed just up ahead, obscured by the thick Rainforest foliage, shimmering like a starlight through the layers of shifting shadows.

Before Jambu could explain his poetry, Hailstorm froze. He must have seen it too.

It was Jambu's surprise: the Moon Tree Sapling.

Glacier had send the original cutting over as a tiny bud. So small and delicate, in fact, that Glory had grumbled, "She probably wants it to die here." But the magic strong, even all these centuries later, that the cutting had quickly grown into an ethereal little tree. Jambu was quite proud of it. The Rainforest's own sliver of enchantment!

"Tah-dah!" he crowed. "Isn't this amazing? It's magic!"

To Jambu's surprise, Hailstorm flinched back. For a brief moment, his blue eyes fixed on the silver sapling as if it were vicious, vengeful ghost. Jambu had never seen him so afraid.

Then he straightened up and smiled. Jambu couldn't tell if he had truly lost that fear, or if he'd just hidden it away. Even without color-changing scales, Jambu thought darkly, he sure is good at hiding himself.

Hoping to save their date, he led Hailstorm around the flowering grove.

"Glory put Kinkajou and me in charge of designing this grove," Jambu said proudly. "Fruit Bat helped with the flowers, of course. But those trellises were all my idea!" He proudly pointed out the big bursts of pink and purple.

Jambu nervously watched Hailstorm's face, wondering how the IceWing would react. This had all seemed so simple and sweet in Jambu's head. Show the IceWing the Sparkly IceWing Thing! Now, as he watched a storm of emotions flash through Hailstorm's eyes, Jambu realized it wasn't simple at all. Hailstorm wasn't proud of his tribe in the same way that Jambu was. He seemed to loathe his own kingdom. Tumbling toucans, thought Jambu, maybe he hates it.

Hailstorm stayed silent. The pale glow of the magic sapling lit all the sharp angles of his face, every stark white scale. Jambu had found those jagged features terribly handsome, but now the IceWing looked almost hollow.

"When Glory said it would grow like a real tree, I thought she was pulling my wing." Jambu flicked one of the fresh, magically frosted buds. "Then I saw it happen with my own eyes"

Hailstorm nodded. "Yes, it was enchanted by Frostbite, an IceWing queen." His voice became empty and cold. "The tree in the palace is truly magnificent."

A cold breeze seemed to blow here perpetually. Completely out of place in the warm darkness of the jungle. Jambu wondered what it was like to live in a place where the wind always howled and ice fell like dead leaves from the sky. That sounded like the end of the world to him.

Hailstorm studied the tree. He would not step any closer, but the cold fear did seem to melt from his gaze. "Thank you," he whispered. "Truly. I..." He paused, swallowing. "I needed to see this." He turned to Jambu, not meeting his gaze. "To remember that my tribe has done good things."

They stood together in the silver glow. Jambu's carefully placed trellises shielded the sapling from the rain, keeping the delicate beacon of light pristine. It was small, but bright. A perfect little promise of something great.