Part VI: Teeth & Scales

One Week Ago...

Never, in all his years, had Hailstorm expected to deliver a gift basket to a NightWing. Let alone one who had threatened to rip his face off.

First time for everything, Hailstorm reminded himself. That had become his mantra, back in Sanctuary. But now, faced with Fierceteeth's deadly glare and downright rotten puffs of smoke, he wondered if it would be his undoing.

"I hate fruit," snarled Fierceteeth.

Hailstorm frowned down at his gift. "Oh."

A fruit fly buzzed unappetizingly around the slices of melon and mango that he had so carefully prepared. So that's why the RainWings always ate their fruit right away.

"Three moons," Fierceteeth growled, "never thought I'd get a melon from an IceWing." She let out a bitter laugh.

Laughter was good. Jambu always knew how to get a laugh out of other dragons, friends and enemies alike. That must be his secret, reasoned Hailstorm. That's why he's got sunshine pouring out of his smile. Hailstorm's knew his haughty IceWing ways would get him nowhere in the Rainforest. In these new skies, he'd have to fly like Jambu.

And that meant learning how to laugh more.

Hailstorm mustered up a chuckle. "Well, I never thought I'd give one to a NightWing. To anyone, for that matter." Then, somber again, he bowed his head. "My deepest apologies," he said, "for my previous behavior. I was brash and uncouth, and insulted your honor."

"So?" Fierceteeth eyed him with confusion and curiosity. "I know you're not just here to say sorry. You IceWings never say sorry."

Hailstorm bit back a frosty (and equally prejudiced) reply. "So," he began very carefully. "I..." He paused. "I heard you experienced animus magic."

Fierceteeth's scowl deepened, her glare darkening. But there was a raw, defensive look to her now. A familiar, frightened edge.

After all those years in the IceWing Palace, which was practically swarming with angry, frightened dragons, Hailstorm really should have recognized another dragon hiding her fear behind hatred.

"I have, too," he quickly added. "I was enchanted."

Fierceteeth regarded him with new, curious eyes. "What happened to you?" she asked brashly. "Do you ice-snakes still have animus dragons?"

"No." Hailstorm glared. "I was captured. In the war."

"Oh." Fierceteeth nodded with an odd look of understanding.

Perhaps she, too, had been captured and imprisoned in the war. All of Pyrrhia had been caught up in the violence, after all. Hailstorm looked away, trying not to think of all the terrible things that his own tribe had done, mostly to Fierceteeth's tribe.

"It was a NightWing," he went on. Then he stopped, shaking his head, the memories returning in a painful rush. "No," he corrected himself. "A RainWing. I always forget..." Back in Scarlet's court, Chameleon had always appeared as a NightWing, but that was all just another spell. "A Rainwing in the guise of a NightWing."

"Wow, what a way to give us a bad name," Fierceteeth grumbled. "Typical." She shuddered slightly as she said, "Me, I was cursed by Darkstalker."

Hailstorm's eyes widened. "Darkstalker himself?"

Fierceteeth nodded again. "He turned me into some dead dragon. A friend of his, I guess. Crazy, right?" She scowled, tough as ever, but Hailstorm noticed a tremor in her tail. "It was..." She trailed off.

"Indescribable," Hailstorm finished.

"Yes."

They sat and stared at their talons for a while.

"I'm sorry, by the way," Fierceteeth finally mumbled. "For, uh, for the things I said last time." She fidgeted her wings. "I'm a real snot-snout sometimes, huh?"

Silently, Hailstorm had to agree.

But when he looked at Fierceteeth, he saw real regret in her expression. It seemed that she, too, was learning how to live in this new world. Slowly learning how to forgive and fly on. He had to respect that, since he was struggling with the exact same thing.

Hailstorm's tail twitched, nearly knocking over a potted plant. "Pardon me," he said. He reached over to right the wobbling plant, and was shocked to see a little red mouth twitching on the stem. "Leaping lemurs!" he cursed, as Jambu often did.

"It's a flytrap," said Fierceteeth. "And over there - that's a sundew."

As Hailstorm peered closer, the plant winked its hungry little jaws. The jagged edge of its maw even looked like little teeth. He had never seen such a thing before. Even back in Sanctuary, known for its floral variety, where strange, spiky desert plants bloomed in every garden.

"It eats bugs," Fierceteeth explained eagerly. Then with a vicious grin, she added, "And flesh."

A fitting pet for someone like Fierceteeth. Hailstorm watched as the unassuming little sundew plant curled itself around a fruit fly and, presumably, started to digest the poor insect alive.

"There it goes!" cheered Fierceteeth, strangely proud. At least she had found some pride and joy in the Rainforest. If that pride was a sticky, monstrous little flower, who was Hailstorm to judge?

He cleared this throat. Back to business, he reminded himself. He had a mystery to solve, honor to regain. "The assassination attempts against Queen Glory," he asked, "how did they go?"

Fierceteeth raised a brow. "What, are you planning to kill her now?" she snickered. "I can't blame you."

Hailstorm glared.

"Well, at least three NightWings tried to blast her in the face with fire. Obviously that didn't work. She's really good at dodging. And that camouflage, ugh!" Fierceteeth shook her head, disappointed. "The only one that came close was when someone chucked a knife at her, but Deathbringer caught it. What a shame."

Fire and weapons. Hailstorm frowned. Not poison. Have the NightWings gotten craftier? he wondered. Or is someone else involved?

Fierceteeth provided him with more suspiciously sympathetic details of the assassination attempts, including how Deathbringer had executed the assassins. Hailstorm dutifully noted everything down, though he doubted Fierceteeth's exaggerated stories and sound effects would really help.

"Can I ask you something?" Fierceteeth finally cut in.

Hailstorm nodded.

"So," she started. "When you were, uh, enchanted..." Her voice dropped, and the sarcastic smile faded from her snout. "How long did it last?"

"Years," he replied. Truly, he'd lost track. When he dared to peer back into the darkness of his dreams, his time as Pyrite felt like an entire lifetime. A twisted, hollow, broken life. "Many years," he amended.

"Three moons." Fierceteeth's dark eyes widened. "Really?" She let out an impressed puff of smoke. "You're one tough cookie, if you came out of that sane."

Hailstorm hated pity. The sad looks and the fragile words. Pity meant weakness in the Ice Kingdom.

But this was different. Fierceteeth respected his struggle. More importantly, she understood it.

"Hey." Fierceteeth drummed her talons. "Do you ever remember things that didn't really happen?" She shifted awkwardly, then scowled again. Her careful mask, hiding fragility and fear. Hailstorm knew that trick all to well. He'd often worn that exact same expression. "And do you ever wonder..." She paused. "Does it ever feel like your scales are crawling off your own skin?"

"Yes." Hailstorm nodded. "Oftentimes."

She nodded, silent and solemn. "It's good to know I'm not the only one." Then she cracked a rueful smile. "Never thought I'd say that to an IceWing."

Now it was Hailstorm's turn to ask an awkward question. "How do you bear it?" He studied her with no hatred or pity. Just curiosity. "The memories? The dreams?"

Fierceteeth drummed her talons on her gnawed-up bone. Clack-clack-clack. Her expression turned calm and thoughtful.

"Here's my advice," she said. There was no malice in her rough voice. Just brutal honesty. A beaten, toughened-out sort of kindness. "Keep going," she growled. "Keep fighting. Keep clawing for what's yours. Don't even think about what's behind you, because that'll just make you tear yourself apart again."

"Does that help with the nightmares?" he asked quietly.

"No." Her hard, dark eyes gleamed. "But it gets me through the day."

Fierceteeth's words echoed in Hailstorm's head. A week had passed since their strange little talk, and Hailstorm was still ruminating over it. Slowly but surely, he had been forced to accept that the NightWings weren't too different from his own tribe, after all. They were just as conflicted and complicated, full of diverse dragons who could be as different as Fierceteeth and Fatespeaker.

He'd also caught Strongwings shooting him some particularly murderous glances. Apparently the NightWings could be just as irrational and rude as IceWings, too.

Jambu had been overjoyed to see Hailstorm getting out there and making friends. Unfortunately, he now seemed determined to bring Hailstorm along to every RainWing meet-and-greet.

"Trust me, you'll love Greatness and Maggie's pals," Jambu said, practically pulling Hailstorm along by the wing. "They're crazy! But in a cool way. Super cool. Ooh, and I'm sure they'll have some clues for us, too. Magnificent has dirt on everyone." Jambu paused, blushing purple. "Even me. Uh... if she says anything about Coconut and me, don't believe her."

Even while investigating an assassination attempt, RainWings still found time to relax. Hailstorm wasn't sure whether to be impressed or appalled.

But Jambu was turning magenta with excitement, so Hailstorm tried to smile. "Noted."

"I've gotta have fun while I still can," Jambu rambled on. "When I'm an uncle..."

"An uncle?" Hailstorm stared at him. "Is the queen expecting eggs?"

"Oh." Jambu turned purple. "Oops. Uhhh... try to forget I said that." Then, swirling with sunny colors, he whispered, "I'm so excited!"

Another secret to keep. Hailstorm bit back a sigh. "Oh," he said, "that's wonderful!"

Jambu was right. This party was certifiably crazy.

Music blared from a total of three live bands, with an extra a cappella group to boot. Magnificent had somehow wrangled a flock of macaws into singing along. It was all impressively ridiculous. And from the leafy canopy to the flowering understory, every level of the jungle was full of dancing dragons.

It seemed like half the Rainforest had showed up to this party, RainWings and NightWings alike. Between Greatness's status as a former princess and Magnificent's as a former queen, the hosts had connections to everyone. A visiting delegation of SeaWings even stopped by to join in the party games.

Hailstorm felt a familiar dizziness as he looked around. This party could rival the wildest of Sanctuary's festivals. It sure didn't help when Jambu vanished into the crowd, shouting something about a vine-swinging contest. The blur of color-shifting RainWings and shimmering NightWings soon swallowed him up, leaving Hailstorm utterly lost on the rattling branch of a narra tree.

He was glad to spot a familiar flash of purple. Fatespeaker.

She was smiling and swaying to the music, an open coconut in her talons, but her dancing was off beat and she seemed oddly concerned.

"Hey Hailstorm!" she called, practically shouting over the music. "I'm heading back to Sanctuary soon. Usually I wouldn't leave in the middle of..." She glanced around, as if just remembering not to blab about the investigation. Three moons, these dragons were horrible at keeping secrets. "Everything. But Fruit Bat and her, uh, plant posse need an escort for their next botanical expedition. I think Winter could use some help, too."

Ice and snow, Hailstorm cursed himself in his head. All this flirting and investigating and mango-picking had distracted him from the madness of the IceWing Revolution. Winter's still stuck there, alone now, he remembered with a stab of guilt.

"What happened?" he asked tensely.

"Oh, Winter's fine," Fatespeaker assured him. "There's just some... unrest in the Ice Kingdom."

Hailstorm frowned. "What exactly do you mean by -"

"HAILSTORM!" Jambu reappeared in a flash of flowers and fuchsia. "Hailstorm, you HAVE to try the mango wine! Sweet suns!"

"I'll fill you in later!" Fatespeaker said, smiling awkwardly. "Have fun!" She slipped away before Hailstorm could get any more news out of her.

Jambu slipped too, tipsily tripping over his own tail, and accidentally doused Hailstorm in the drink. "Whoops!" Jambu slurred. "Sorry about that." He grinned. "You gotta admit, it tastes great, right?"

Hailstorm bit back a puff of frost. "Indeed."

He tried to sponge himself off with a flower garland, which just left him smelling of hibiscus. A pleasant odor, but a real lure for ants.

"I'm going to find Greatness," Hailstorm said aloud. Then he realized that Jambu had already disappeared back into the noisy crowd. He spotted a flash of pink at the heart of the party, doing a cannonball into the rainforest canopy. With a sigh, he tried to flap the ants from his wings, and headed off on his own.

Hailstorm found Greatness at the edge of her own party, sipping hibiscus wine and trying to feed Magnificent's sloth a strawberry.

For a former princess of the Night Kingdom, Greatness sure seemed easy to miss. Her manner was unthreatening, almost common, and her voice was so soft, the music nearly drowned it out. Still, Hailstorm figured that he owed her respect. As he'd learned from Fierceteeth, not all NightWings were backwards beasts. Most of them were thoroughly civilized.

So when Greatness said hello, he unfurled his wings and bowed to her formally. "Your Highness," he said. "Er... Former-Highness?"

"None of that," laughed Greatness "I'm not a princess anymore!"

Unlike Magnificent, who had piled about a million flowers onto herself, Greatness wore only a few garlands of roses. Hailstorm noticed that she had positioned them carefully over her chest, where an ragged scar tore across her scales. IceWing claw-marks.

Rather than dwell on their tribes' ugly pasts, Hailstorm looked out at the loud, colorful party. NightWings and RainWings soared through the lantern-lit treetops, dancing and feasting, mingling freely.

"It's quite inspiring," he noted, "to see everyone getting along."

"We're making progress," Greatness said hopefully. The RainWings' infectious optimism must have rubbed off on her. "All the NightWings in our village pledged to stop lighting the rainforest on fire." She winced. "Deathbringer did catch a few secret barbecues... but those were just the troublemakers!"

Magnificent's high-pitched laugh echoed through the treetops, and Greatness paused, casting the drunk RainWing an unmistakable look of amused love.

"Are you and Magnificent..." Hailstorm trailed off, unable to say the words. Even now, over a year after leaving the Ice Kingdom, any talk of romance made his scales melt from shame. Especially that kind of romance, which the noble IceWings looked down on as crude and unlawful. "Are you...?"

"Yes, we're partners." Greatness fluttered her starry wings, and eyed him with defiance. "Got a problem with that, Your Highness?"

Flustered, Hailstorm shook his head and stammered, "No, I was only, uh..." He cleared his throat. "My apologies."

Greatness laughed. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. But yes, it's true. We're a 'thing' now, as Maggie would say. Fresh gossip for the RainWings." She smiled ruefully. "Three moons, if my mother could see me now."

"I thought the NightWings..." Hailstorm found his voice failing again. He'd been sure that the NightWings were prejudiced against that kind of mating. That seemed to be one of the only similarities between the IceWings and NightWings.

"It's true, we were pretty narrow-minded," Greatness admitted with a wince. "Some of us still are. But things change." She smiled. "If we stuck to our traditions, then I'd have to be queen!" She cringed. "Trust me, that would not be good."

Oddly enough, it was easier to talk of such things with her. As much as Hailstorm liked Jambu (and the warmth of Jambu's scales, and the colors of Jambu's wings), there were certain things that the RainWing would never understand, about growing up ashamed and afraid. Some secret, bitter part of Hailstorm envied his own date for that. He never had to hide his heart from the world, thought Hailstorm, with a painfully angry twinge. He always got to wear it right on his wing.

"I fly both ways, if you catch my drift," Greatness said, "but there are other dragons, like Tamarin, who soar in one direction. The RainWings seem okay with that, too." She smiled, relishing the quirky idioms. Hailstorm found it all quite confusing. "That's what I love about the Rainforest," Greatness laughed. "Well, that and the food... We're all free here."

As long as you're not assassinating each other, Hailstorm's thoughts added cynically. Out of politeness, he nodded. "Yes," he echoed, "free."

"Hey, Greatness!" Magnificent reappeared between them in a blinding blur of purple. Flowery garlands danced across her wings, and she held a ripe melon in her talons. "Oooh!" she cried. "It's the sparkly one!" Her scales shifted in an attempt to capture Hailstorm's IceWing iridescence.

"Good evening," Hailstorm said, resisting the urge to bow.

Magnificent laughed and tossed a wing around Greatness, their tails twining brazenly as they shared their melon. Hailstorm felt compelled to look away, but Greatness went on chatting and snacking, as bold and free as any RainWing.

"Are you and your boyfriend still snooping around?" Magnificent asked with gleeful suspicion, nodding toward the distant pink flash of Jambu's wings.

Greatness let out a rather un-royal snort. "He's flying with Jambu? Three moons, I thought I'd snagged a wild one..."

Hailstorm felt a rush of embarrassment, which he tried to hide with an official glare. "By the Queen's orders, we shouldn't speak of the case."

"Look," said Magnificent, her snout still dripping with melon, "I know Glory wants to do the right thing, but she doesn't understand our culture. She wasn't raised here, you know? She's not RainWing-savvy. Even though she thinks she is." She sighed and rolled her bright eyes. "This whole hush-hush strategy of hers, it won't work. RainWings value honesty, not silence and strength." She nudged Greatness with her snout. "That's why we're so passionate. We live by our hearts."

Greatness giggled. Then, sobering up, she said, "If Glory doesn't tell us the truth, gossip will spread instead. Mark my words, that's never good." Her sparkling eyes grew sad. "It made a wreck of my mother's kingdom."

"You know what Grandeur always says," Magnificent added sagely. "Gossip is the deadliest venom of all."

Rather ironic, coming from the biggest blabbermouth in the jungle, but Hailstorm appreciated the proverb.

Hailstorm thought back to his talk with Fierceteeth. "Do you think the NightWings are upset about Queen Glory's relationship?" Or her plans to have dragonets, he privately wondered. Jambu knew, so the secret was definitely out. And if the NightWings were as prejudiced as the IceWings, that would certainly have sparked some rage.

"The RainWings certainly are!" Magnificent turned violet for emphasis. "That's another thing about our tribe. When we're mad, we don't show it, but we do get mad." She gazed at Greatness. "Obviously I'm cool with the NightWings..."

Greatness laughed.

"But a lot of RainWings still fear them," Magnificent went on with a sigh. "They think Glory betrayed us by shacking up with one of our enemies." She laughed meanly, turning purple and green. "Especially a big creep like Deathbringer! Can't say I blame them for hating him."

"Hey," said Greatness, "Deathbringer's not so bad."

"Yeah, just wait till he catches you missing guard duty," Magnificent grumbled. "I only fell asleep one time..."

It still rattled Hailstorm to hear a queen and her consort spoken of so casually. These tribes clearly don't respect their rulers, he reasoned. Could that mean a whole conspiracy is afoot?

Before he could ask any further questions, a loud whoop echoed through the canopy. "BULL'S EYE!" crowed a familiar voice. "TAKE THAT, COCONUT!"

Greatness turned to Hailstorm. "Your boyfriend just won the dart contest," she said, adding with a puff of smoke, "for the the tenth time in a row."

"Three moons," laughed Magnificent, "we really have to ban him now."

After a final feast of fruit and fish (apparently Greatness had started a trend of pescatarianism), and rather long and drunken round of songs, Greatness and Magnificent led the final toast. "To Queen Glory!" cheered Magnificent. "Long may she reign!"

"And that handsome grouch, Deathbringer!" Greateness pitched in, her tail twined tight around Magnificent's. "Long may he keep us bozos in line!"

All around the Rainforest canopy, dragons laughed and cheered. Hailstorm raised his own cup of fermented juice for the toast. It was so sweet, he could barely keep it down. For the sake of manners, he drank. He had been hoping to water it down, but then he spotted a very drunk Dazzling swimming in the water bowl, and decided against it.

Jambu returned to Hailstorm's side for the feast. Hailstorm had spent most of the party searching for his date, but now wasn't sure that he particularly liked this. He wasn't sure if he particularly liked the dragon that Jambu became after ten cups (and half a stolen bowl) of fermented drinks.

"HEY, HAILSTORM!" Jambu shouted, his rich voice now hoarse from all the singing. "Check this out!" He promptly snapped up a whole cornucopia of fruit, shifting his scales to match each colorful bite. Then, for a grand finale, he whipped out his dart gun and shot a fresh mango right out of a tree.

All around, dragons whooped and cheered for the party trick. Hailstorm politely clapped his wings, smiling as kindly as he could. He really wished that Jambu would just sit down and stop that dizzying swirl of his scales. It was starting to make Hailstorm's head throb.

Jambu had other ideas. "I'm gonna dance on the table!" he shouted.

"Please don't," groaned Hailstorm.

Jambu proceeded to dance on the table.

Now half the Rainforest seemed to be staring right at Hailstorm and his date. Greatness and Magnificent whispered and giggled. Kinkajou and Fatespeaker both shrieked with laughter. Jambu's whole pack of loud, tipsy friends joined him in a loud RainWing drinking song, which seemed to consist mostly of their favorite foods and saucy jokes.

Hailstorm stared down his cup of mango wine, quietly mortified. An ant crawled down his snout.

Just when he thought things couldn't get any more embarrassing, Jambu flung a bright pink wing around him and crowed, "Everyone! EVERYONE! Give it up for Hailstorm, too! MY PRINCE!" He squeezed Hailstorm, who felt absolutely horrible.

Dragons whooped and laughed and drank joking toasts. Hailstorm felt as if he were melting with embarrassment. Moons and stars, he prayed, just turn me into a puddle.

But he sat still and endured the next round of drinking songs. He even tried to harmonize with Jambu. It was only polite, after all. He'd never been one to make a scene, though Jambu apparently loved to do so.

Then, once some other scandal had distracted the crowd, and Jambu had tipsily fallen from the table, Hailstorm mustered up his last scraps of dignity and slipped away.

Rain came down as Hailstorm tried to slog his way back to Fatespeaker's hut. The party raged on behind him, undeterred. In fact, the drizzle only seemed to encourage the bands to play even louder. Hailstorm admired their persistence, and part of him wished he had the alcohol tolerance to hang around and drown his sorrows in that sweet mango wine. But if he had stayed for even a moment more, he knew he would have gone mad.

He felt half-crazy already. The upside-down world of the Rainforest had left him lost and dizzy.

Frustration and confusion and about ten tons of shame pounded in his head, blunt blows like the distant beat of the party's drums. He let the rain pour down his scales, hating the sensation, hating every inch of himself. The wild forest laughed and shrieked and whirled on around him.

"Hailstorm?" Jambu's voice sounded behind him. Loud and excited and slightly slurred. "Hailstorm, where are you going?"

Hailstorm turned, feeling a strong urge to flare his frills and roar. But he held himself together, as he always had. "I am turning in for the night," he said primly. Then, perhaps driven to rudeness by that mango wine, he added, "I am not accustomed to these festivities, and I feel a bit sickly."

"Hailstorm!" protested Jambu. "Come on! The night's young!" Turning tipsy and pensive, he grumbled, "I don't get it. I don't get you." He shook his head, his scales swirling with an eye-burning rainbow of color.

"You are quite inebriated," Hailstorm observed, "and I am quite tired." When Jambu didn't take the ice-cold hint, he asked, "Why are you following me?"

"Three moons!" Jambu laughed, still grinning quite idiotically. "Because I love you! Simple as that." Jambu laughed again, louder and louder, then mumbled to himself, "Did I just say... Three moons, I am drunk."

Hailstorm stopped. "It's not simple," he sighed. "Not at all."

Jambu paused, his smile fading. Warm rain dripped off his round snout. His grin seemed to melt right off his face This was the first time Hailstorm had ever really seen the Rainwing frown. He looked very odd. Very un-Jambu-like. Hailstorm did not like that look at all.

"Well, can you tell me?" pressed Jambu. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

Hailstorm flinched.

"Do you want to stop?" Jambu asked. He was still terribly drunk and terribly loud. So terribly, terribly loud and flippant with everything. "You don't have to date me," Jambu went on, without a care in the world for propriety. "Look, maybe this isn't gonna work. Do you wanna break up? Do you want me to -"

"No," Hailstorm cut in quickly. "No, no, I..." He glanced around, fearing that a million secret eyes were watching, or that his own scales would crawl from his skin, or that beneath the thin veneer of his scowl, he was swiftly going insane. "It's me, it's my fault," he said. His jagged tail lashed. "There are things I must work out."

"What?" Jambu pressed. "What, because you're gay?"

Hailstorm frowned. He'd never heard that slang in the Ice Kingdom. The word only meant happy there, so the IceWings, an infamously unhappy tribe, rarely used it. All the IceWings words for dragons like him were so rude, he could barely dare to think them. "No, I..." He gulped. "I mean, yes, I suppose I am, uh, that. But I... I..."

"Three moooons, Hailstorm!" Jambu laughed bitterly, his colors turning ghastly bright. "Don't you ever just relax?" He lunged in for a hug, stopping at the last second, and shook out his wings instead. "Look," he sighed, "you don't have to be a tightwad here! We're free!"

Free. Hailstorm had heard quite a few dragons shouting about freedom lately, and each time he heard that word, it sounded more and more like a cruel joke. He silently shook his head.

Jambu stopped, still swaying tipsily. Was he holding back a burp or pondering their pathetic relationship?

Regardless, Hailstorm tried to explain himself.

"It's different in the Ice Kingdom," he said, slow and quiet now. "In the palace, I mean. These things are not allowed. They are not spoken of. I didn't - I never -" He shook his head again, feeling dizzy and sick and soaked to the bone. Disgusted with himself. "And then I went to war, and... well, and things happened there, too. And frankly, I..." He stopped. The icy knot in his throat tightened. "I don't know how to say it. I'm broken. I think I'm broken."

Jambu's scales were dim now. Dimmer than Hailstorm had ever seen them. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I said that. You're not... I didn't mean... Leaping lemurs, I'm just a big idiot. I'm really sorry."

There it was, the sick little flicker that Hailstorm loathed. Pity. He looked away, unable to meet Jambu's sad green eyes.

Worst of all, Hailstorm couldn't bring himself to say the rest of it. To tell Jambu how his mind had been shattered, how he'd spent most of the war as a prisoner, how his memory was still a jumbled mess of sharp shards. Even now, weeping like an idiot in front of this dragon, he was still too much of a coward to tell the truth.

It had all been quite amusing, pretending to be some mysterious rebel IceWing. A strange, dangerous foreigner worthy of a RainWing prince. But now Jambu would see what he really was: a broken, lonely fugitive. Such a pity.

He turned, the sticky mess of his garlands shedding petals. When he flew off, he was glad that Jambu didn't follow.