Arctic used his Arctic Pearl to materialize, invisible, in a corner of the IceWing throne room.
"What do you mean, she's captured?" Snowflake asked, her quiet voice shooting through the room like dangerous, falling icicles. She sounded far angrier than Arctic had ever made her when they had been betrothed. "It was your job to protect her!"
"It was also my job to protect the mission," General Squall replied, just as coldly. "She was captured and her jewelry was removed. The invisibility bracelets… we needed stealth. We were forced to evacuate immediately."
"Without the queen?!" Snowfox asked shrilly. "There's no stealth if the IceWing queen magically appears in the heart of the Night Kingdom. They know we can get into their kingdom now. YOU need to rescue her before the tribe finds out they've had two queens disappear within a week."
"We need to plan–"
"Go. Plan now. Now," Snowflake ordered.
"You're not in charge here–" General Squall protested.
"It's time to prove yourself as a regent, then," Snowflake hissed.
General Squall opened his mouth to respond, paused, then closed his mouth and bowed slightly.
"You are quite right, of course. But know this will not be easy. The Darkstalker has made himself invulnerable to attacks."
Snowfox was silent for a moment. "Do you mean he enchanted some jewelry for himself? Like his mother's enchanted earring?"
"I don't know," General Squall admitted. "But we almost killed him – I thought we had killed him – and then he healed. It was as if he brought himself back from the dead."
Arctic, still spying, felt his blood run even colder than it already was. He shivered. What unnatural monster had he fathered?
Snowflake considered this news silently for several long moments. "Best hurry on that rescue mission, then," she said finally.
"Yes indeed," General Squall assented, then both he and Snowflake hurried out of the room, heading in different directions down the hallway.
Arctic was left alone in the corner of the throne room. He longed to follow General Squall and spy on his plans. But he anchored himself in his patience. He had the information he needed, and he needed to act immediately to restore his family's place as IceWing royalty. And stop Darkstalker. Snowfox and all of her generals were no match for an animus without scruples. But maybe, just maybe, Darkstalker still had enough soul within him to make peace with his sister and the tribe she would soon rule.
Arctic touched his necklace. He slammed his eyes shut to protect them from the blinding Sand Kingdom sun and cringed in the comparatively searing heat of the beach where his family was camped. He slowly blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light, turning his back away from the too-brightly sparkling ocean. Eyes fully open now, he looked around. He saw no danger, so he turned his armband to make himself reappear.
Foeslayer jumped. "Gah!" she yelped. "Stop doing that! Make a noise or something to let me know you're here!"
"I make a good spy," Arctic replied slyly.
"What did you find?" Foeslayer asked eagerly.
"Snowfox has been captured. The IceWings will try to figure out how to rescue her, but they haven't even started to plan yet. General Squall is scared of Darkstalker. It seems he's using some sort of automatic healing spell that's very powerful against any attacks. That's in addition to his invulnerable scales…. We have to act now, while there's no queen. Snowfox is no match for Darkstalker, but maybe he has enough soul left to make peace with the IceWings if Whiteout is queen of them."
Foeslayer's face contorted through an inscrutable series of emotions. Anger? Horror? Excitement? Fear?
Whiteout stepped closer to her parents. "Let's go then," she said. "Father, you know what I need to do?"
"I do," Arctic responded. He paused. He would not become controlling over his dragonet like his own mother had been over him when he lived with her in the Ice Kingdom. "And you'll know what to do, too. Trust your instincts. Trust your powers. I know the rules of the IceWings, but I also know that sometimes there are more important things than following the rules." Despite the seriousness of the situation, he turned to wink at Foeslayer. So many long-buried longings of Arctic's heart were about to be fulfilled.
"I'm ready," Whiteout replied.
Whiteout and Foeslayer stood at either side of Arctic, entwining their tails together. Arctic turned his invisibility armband, and all three dragons disappeared. Arctic felt Foeslayer cling to him a little more tightly; then they were in the cold, dimly lit main Icewing Palace. They were in the same room that Prince Arctic had just used for spying; it was still deserted.
Whiteout let go of her father. Now she was visible, and any IceWing who saw her would think she was alone. The cold grabbed Whiteout like the firm, commanding grip of either of her grandmother's talons. She started to tremble.
"Nervous?" Foeslayer asked her quietly.
"Cold," Whiteout answered. She remembered her father's words – trust your powers. She closed her eyes and thought in swirls of orange and bright popping bursts of yellow. She stood up tall and regal, still and calm and warm. "Better," she said simply. "Father – lead the way."
Arctic led his family down a hall, following the sound of tense voices, including General Squall's.
"We'd have to go in daylight, when those blasted NightWings are sleeping," one of the voices said.
"Right out in the open? They'll have guards at all hours. It's a suicide mission," another voice responded.
"We could make it quick."
A distainful laugh.
"The Darkstalker is on alert for us. He's a mad animus who calls himself a king! He has magic and the NightWing army at his disposal. If he sees us, there's no telling what he will do. Not just to us, but to the Ice Kingdom."
"We have the Great Ice Ciff to defend us. Anyone within the kingdom is safe."
"He's half IceWing. The Cliff wouldn't stop him. He could massacre our tribe using magic even without an army."
"We must not anger him," a third voice chimed in fearfully.
"So what would you have us do? Just leave our queen to die down there?"
"Maybe they will be willing to trade her for something else."
"What could he possibly want? That Snowfox would agree to?"
They all fell silent.
"Nothing," one of them finally said. Silence.
"Nothing," the others concurred.
Arctic gripped Whiteout. She blinked back into invisibility with him. Snowfox would certainly be willing to trade Whiteout for her own freedom, and Darkstalker would probably be glad for it. But Whiteout came to step into power and end a war, not become a pawn to prolong it. Arctic led her and Foeslayer onward, toward the center courtyard.
Just before reaching the courtyard, Arctic ducked into a decorative crevice in the palace's glimmering walls. He carefully slid his armband from himself on to Foeslayer. A NightWing had no business being seen by any IceWings right now – especially the NightWing that Queen Diamond made out to be the Icewings' greatest enemy of all. Arctic gently released his talons from Foeslayer's. He and Whiteout became visible once more.
"Please stay close," Arctic whispered to the seemingly empty space where she hid.
"Stay safe," the empty space whispered back.
Arctic gave Whiteout's talons a quick squeeze, then strode onto the balcony that overlooked the center courtyard with all the outward confidence his royal training taught him to possess. Inside, his heart beat at triple its normal speed, as if it had sprouted wings of its own and was desperately trying to carry him away from this dangerous place. Instead, he took another step forward.
"My fellow IceWings!" he shouted boldly.
The handful of IceWings who happened to be in the courtyard at the time looked up to see Prince Arctic.
More IceWings should be here, Arctic thought. But this must be done quickly, before anyone tries to hurt Whiteout.
"My fellow IceWings," Arctic repeated. "As you know, my mother, Queen Diamond, disappeared before her niece, Snowfox, could fight her for the throne. Snowfox did not earn the right to be queen. I'm sure you also know that Snowfox is not next in line for the throne – Queen Diamond's granddaughter is."
More IceWings were entering the courtyard to hear Prince Arctic's speech. Some murmured among themselves; others stared silently up at Prince Arctic.
"Queen Diamond trusted and valued her granddaughter. She has wisdom, insight, and unique powers to bring to the IceWing tribe. Snowfox wants to prolong this horrible war – even though its aims have been achieved with my safe return to my home." Arctic gestured grandly from himself to the IceWing courtyard, visually connecting himself to his tribe. "Snowfox wants war for its own sake, even if it means banishing your last animus from the IceWing tribe." More murmuring from the growing crowd of IceWings below.
"Snowfox wants to steal the throne, kill IceWings in needless battle, and destroy the animus bloodline that only IceWings have the wisdom to wield – a bloodline that benefits our entire tribe and makes us a shining beacon of wisdom for all of Pyrrhia. On the other talon, Queen Diamond's granddaughter comes to restore the bloodline that was lost, save your lives by ending the war, and add to IceWing powers and influence as leaders across Pyrrhia. She alone is fit for the throne, and she alone has the unique influence over the NightWing Palace to ensure a speedy, just, and lasting peace for us, the IceWings." By now, a large crowd had gathered. More murmuring – more excited now. "May I now present to you Queen Diamond's only granddaughter and the rightful heir to the IceWing throne: Princess Whiteout." Arctic held out a talon, inviting his daughter to step forward.
Whiteout carefully held herself at the most regal-looking posture she could manage with the emotions swirling in and around her. The crowd below was largely quiet. Whiteout picked up on a few murmurings as the IceWings saw her:
So beautiful.
Half-breed.
Definitely Prince Arctic's dragonet.
I wonder what powers she has.
Can she really end the war?
Where is Queen Snowfox?
"To the IceWings of the east," Prince Arctic pronounced, turning toward his left. "Do you recognize Princess Whiteout as Queen Diamond's granddaughter, the true heir to the throne, and accept her rising to fulfill her obligation to take the throne?"
"We do," most IceWings chorused. Prince Arctic turned toward his right and repeated the question for the IceWings of the west. He repeated it one more time, facing straight forward, for the IceWings of the south. Then he turned to face Whiteout.
"Princess Whiteout," Prince Arctic spoke loudly for the whole courtyard to hear. "Do you hereby solemnly affirm and promise to the IceWing tribe to govern the Ice Kingdom in accordance with IceWing laws and customs?"
"I do," she answered.
"And do you promise to govern justly, executing our laws with justice and mercy?"
"I do," she answered.
A nameless royal attendant rushed in, then slowed to walk with more dignity onto the balcony. She held a huge, gaudy crown in her talons. Bowing, the attendant held it before Whiteout. Arctic nodded almost imperceptibly. Whiteout took the crown from the attendant.
"Thank you," Whiteout told her.
Prince Arctic turned to face the crowd again. "Then I am honored to present to you: Queen Whiteout of the IceWings!" The crowd below cheered.
"Put on the crown," Arctic whispered to his daughter. So she did.
It was heavy. Enormously heavy. A rush of black swirled with red emanated from the crown into her thoughts. What was this new emotion? She knew the word: hatred.
Many of the IceWings in the courtyard beneath her cheered. She delicately touched the crown on her head. This was her tribe now. She was accepted. She was the queen. She could right all the wrongs of the world in real life instead of only in her paintings.
First order of business: she was going to defeat the NightWings, once and for all.