The dragon’s black scales gleamed as she turned in the sky and moved away, lifting into the thick blanket of color-streaked clouds. Wisps chased her in vain, like hopeful children.
The hail had stopped. Nya had risen, her light competing with that of Father Moon.
Petal ran back out from the field of statues and threw her arms around Toli’s neck. Toli hugged Petal tightly as Wix leaned into them. None of them spoke. They clung together for a breath—then two.
Toli stepped away first. “We’re going to do what we have to. That’s all.” Toli’s whole body was shaking as they silently righted the sled. None of them spoke.
Wix did his best to calm the foxes. He climbed in next to Toli as she took the reins.
Toli risked a glance at him. She knew only two things about the pass that led to Dragon Mountain: She knew it was a huge tunnel that passed through the glacier beyond the Necropolis, coming out at the far side of the Mountain, and she knew Spar had told all of her hunters never to set foot in it. Wix’s expression reflected the question in hers: What is in the pass?
The tunnel cut through a sheer bluff of glacier that rose up from the ice just to the east of the Mountain. Spar had traveled there once to scout for hunting grounds, long before her quarrel with the dragons. Toli remembered the hunt master striding into the Hall where her hunters waited. Toli and her father had been seated by the fire.
The fear written across Spar’s as-yet-unscarred face as she passed made her a stranger, and for a moment, Toli hadn’t recognized her. The huntress had stormed past, pointed one finger at the pack of hunters where they gathered around another hearth, and uttered only five words. “Stay away from the pass!”
If her father, or anyone else, had ever asked why, no one had shared the answer with her. As far as Toli knew, no one had set foot out there since.
Until now.
The fact that they had no choice didn’t do much to ease her mind.
Toli thought of her mother, inside the Mountain. She thought of Ruby, dying without ever meeting her own mother, and her thoughts jumbled. She tried to find words, but they shifted in her mouth like stones.
She closed her eyes and sent a fervent prayer soaring out to the Daughter Moon to keep Ruby alive, and to help them get to the Mountain in time to save her mother and stop Krala.
Petal wrapped Ruby in a small rabbit-fur blanket, tucking her down inside Toli’s hood. As her sister stroked Ruby’s head and peered closely into the little dragon’s face, worry flooded Toli’s mind. She didn’t want Ruby to die, and not just because she needed her to save her mother.
She cared about a dragon.
She had no energy to wonder how it had happened; she only knew that it had. “Is she okay?”
Petal pressed her lips together and took her seat in the back of the sled. She didn’t answer, but her face was as fierce as Toli had ever seen it.
“Let’s go,” Toli growled as she snapped the reins.
The wind bit at Toli’s cheeks and hair. Though it was almost afternoon, Nya’s light was dull. Reflections of the aurora lights chased across the ice alongside them, so bright now that there was no horizon—only streaks of color in the mirrored darkness, above and below. They skimmed over the surface like a dragon flying, fearing nothing.
Petal curled into the belly of the sled. Toli could feel Wix watching her, but he didn’t say a word. Not about their choice to take the pass, and not about Krala, or her mother, or about Ruby’s illness. They all knew what had to be done. There was no time to waste.
The wind wailed across the empty ice.
Wix said, “I’ve been thinking about Spar. She might be going to the Mountain too.”
Toli had been trying hard not to let thoughts of her mentor into her head. It was already so crammed full of worry, she didn’t have room for anything else. “Why would she?!” she snapped.
Wix gave her a sidelong look and shrugged. “To get the Queen? To start a fight? I don’t know. Maybe she just finally lost her dragon-blasted mind and took off.”
“No.” Toli’s voice was firm.
His gaze sharpened. “No? That’s it … just, no?”
Petal sat up and picked her way forward, gathering Ruby out of Toli’s hood. “She could be out hunting.”
Wix scoffed. “Hunting what?”
There was no good answer to that question, and Toli knew it. She gritted her teeth and thumped the sled with her fist. Ruby gave a halfhearted rattle from the belly of the sled, where she had settled into Petal’s lap.
Wix sighed. “Listen. You might be right. Maybe she’s gone into the forest or…”
“Or maybe she really has lost her mind and is on her way to do something stupid.” Toli sighed. Like start a war with the dragons.
He paled. “That’s what I’m afraid of too. You know her best. What do you think she might do?”
She met her friend’s honest face. “That’s just it, Wix. I have no idea what she’s capable of.”
Petal cleared her throat. “We know she hates the dragons.”
Toli considered. “We know Krala wants to be the Dragon-Mother, even if it means starting a war between the dragons—and another between humans and dragons.” It made her heart ache to think that the truth might be that Spar wanted the same thing.
Petal nodded, pressing her lips together in a determined line. “We know the dragons took our mother, and that Krala thinks that makes the Dragon-Mother weak.”
Wix shook his head. “It wasn’t taking her that makes the Dragon-Mother look weak, it’s that she wants her for something—some kind of help. And Krala said she isn’t the only dragon that has lost faith in the Dragon-Mother,” he added.
Toli chewed the inside of her cheek, the iron tang of blood on her tongue. Somehow she had to fix this. She’d gotten Wix and Petal wedged in the middle of some kind of dragon war. The whole Queendom was counting on her. Even Ruby. “And Ruby’s dying,” she whispered, her voice catching.
An image of Spar handing Toli her gift with her eyes full of pride flashed in her mind. “You don’t give up,” she had said.
Toli snapped the reins. “Right now we just have to try to get Ruby back to the Dragon-Mother. We know Krala is planning to blame us for taking her—”
Wix shook his head. “We can’t outrun Krala.”
“Then at least we can survive! We can keep Ruby alive!”
Petal nodded. “We can explain to the Dragon-Mother.”
Wix dropped his face into his hands. “If we can get there alive, we can try. We’ll have to warn the Dragon-Mother about Krala too.”
“Maybe she’ll believe us,” Toli said, trying to sound confident.
Petal reached toward Toli and took her hand.”Maybe we can still save Mother.”
“And Ruby.” Wix sighed.
Toli didn’t answer. She wanted to believe it, and not only for her own sake, but her body felt heavy, as if her fears were stores, piling up inside her. Ruby climbed up to her shoulder and rubbed the top of her head against Toli’s cheek. “Don’t worry,” Toli whispered as she stroked the dragon’s head. “I’m taking you home. Your mother will know what to do.”
“What Krala said … about people in the South…” Petal began.
Wix shook his head. “That can’t be true. Can it?”
“Of course not,” Toli snapped. “She’s just trying to confuse us. She wants us to doubt ourselves—to doubt everything. She can’t be trusted.”
“Then why did their queen take Mother?”
Toli didn’t have an answer.
Just stay alive, she told herself. That’s what Spar would do. She didn’t dare think about what might happen after that. She tucked the hood of her cloak around the little dragon. Ruby lay, still as death, across her shoulders, but though her scales were cold, Toli knew the little dragon hung on to life. She could feel the beating of the Ruby’s heart against her skin. Her throat tightened. She couldn’t drive the foxes any faster.
The landscape continued as it had begun, ice upon ice, wind following wind. Even the sky varied little, despite the dancing of the lights. It all blurred together, as if the sled were caught on a pin, the foxes running and running, but getting nowhere.
The stars brightened as Nya began to set again. The whole bowl of the sky was filled with streaks of aurora light, all leading toward the wall of glacier, and beside it, the peaked silhouette of Dragon Mountain taking up the sky ahead of them.
Father Moon glowered at her, watching from his resting place on top of the Mountain. At last, in the dim light, a dark spot grew against the wall of ice—the entrance to the pass. As they drew closer and the pass gaped wide ahead of them, the feeling that something was wrong settled in Toli’s guts, twisting and growing as they approached.
The foxes slowed, chattering nervously.
“Whoa,” Wix said, leaning over the side of the sled. “Stop the sled!”
Toli pulled on the reins until the sled glided to a stop. “What is it?”
Petal peered over Wix’s shoulder.
Under the black ice, she could see strange shining orbs. They hung suspended, some small, others almost as large as the sled itself. Farther off she could see stacks of them under the ice, as though they were in a queue, waiting their turn to reach the surface.
Petal frowned. “They look … they look like bubbles.”
Toli stepped out, walked over to the nearest stack of orbs, and leaned down to peer closer.
Wix shot her a worried look. “Why do you think Spar told everyone to stay away from here?”
The hair on Toli’s arms rose. Low mist hurried past, wrapping around her ankles. Rising curls licked at the foxes’ bellies. Her fingers slid over the dragon scales along the edge of her cloak. Spar had acted so strange the last time Toli had seen her. The thought made her chest ache. She pushed it out of her head.
“We need to hurry,” Toli said. “If Krala has her way, there will be dragons coming for us.”
Wix moved to stand by Toli’s side. He squinted, pointing out across the ice. “What is that?”
Some kind of large blur moved toward them across the ice. “I—I don’t know, but I’m not sure we should wait around to find out.”
A roar echoed across the ice, and Toli caught a glimpse of light reflecting off long white fangs. She grabbed Wix’s arm, tugging him toward the sled. “Come on!”
“What—”
“Bear-cat. It’s a bear-cat. Nya’s bear-cat.”
She heard Wix’s breath catch; then they were running for the sled. “It must have smelled our food,” she gasped as they clambered in.
“Hailfire! From that distance?”
Petal stared at them. “What’s going on?”
“Go!” Wix shouted. “Go!”
Toli leaped over her sister into the front of the sled and slapped the reins. The foxes, already straining to run, jumped forward. Petal lurched backward, almost toppling off her bench as they shot ahead.
Toli could see the bear-cat behind them now. Huge and white, with gray-white stripes, it had a thick mane and a long tufted tail that whipped back and forth as it raced along the ice, gathering speed. Bear-cats were five feet tall on all fours, with high, muscled shoulders that sloped down to their haunches, and by all accounts were made of nearly equal parts rage and hunger.
It was catching up.
“Toli?” Petal called to her, her voice tight.
“I know!”
Toli dropped the reins and hung on. The foxes could smell the nearness of the predator and were running hard without any encouragement from her. She reached down into the belly of the sled and lifted her bow. Ruby stirred where she slept under the furs.
Wix gave Toli a nod and grabbed his bow too.
The bear-cat tore the ice as it ran, kicking up shards. It was getting closer. Its huge tongue lolled from its muzzle full of sharp teeth.
Carefully, Toli rose to stand.
And then they were in the pass.
Dark blue gloom surrounded them. A roar echoed through the wide tunnel as Toli let the arrow fly. It disappeared into the distance. Hailfire.
The bear-cat roared again.
An answering roar echoed from somewhere ahead of them.
Petal screamed as a second bear-cat leaped at Toli from above, its body skimming past, so close she could smell the thick, musky scent of its fur. It turned, racing alongside the other.
Wix fired. His arrow struck the new attacker’s shoulder. It let out a roar and put on a burst of speed. It was only a few feet from the sled.
Ruby climbed onto the bench, launching herself up to Toli’s shoulder, as the foxes, screaming now in panic, raced ahead.
Toli widened her stance and grabbed the reins again with one hand, yanking them back to keep the sled from toppling. They surged past a second smaller tunnel, and a third bear-cat charged from within its depths.
Petal cried out as Wix fired again, this time hitting the third one in the chest. It slowed, but the first one let out a roar and surged forward. Its jaws latched on the arching tail of the sled.
They began to careen sideways.
Petal, with a roar of her own, spun and brought down a beater on the bear-cat’s head, splintering the pole.
It released them and fell back, shaking its head and stumbling.
“Yes, Petal!” Wix shouted.
“Two down!” Toli barked. It was all she could do to keep the sled upright. In front, the foxes yipped with fear as they knocked together, with several on the outside being lifted off their feet as they rounded another bend.
Toli and Wix toppled sideways. Toli caught the side of the sled and grabbed Wix as he launched toward the edge, dragging him back. Petal slid into the belly of the sled, clinging to the bench.
Ruby shot into the air with a cry of rage.
Toli saw the flash of the bear-cat’s black eyes, but if it slowed at all, she couldn’t tell.
Ruby swooped toward it, and Toli’s heart flew into her throat.
“Ruby!” Petal cried.
The bear-cat slowed to snap its jaws as the dragon dived at it, missing. Ruby came back around, and as she passed, the bear-cat shot straight up into the air in a leap that put it high above the sled—far enough for Toli to see its huge clawed paws.
Ruby veered away at the last moment, slashing with her talons as she passed. The bear-cat’s jaws snapped shut and came away with a feather. Its shoulder was bleeding, and the jump had slowed it down, but it was still coming, tearing at the ice as it ran.
Ruby landed next to Toli. Her red scales had dulled and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
Toli reached out, but with a cry the dragon launched herself up again, this time aiming directly for the bear-cat.
“Ruby!” Toli lifted her bow and fired. The arrow shot forward to meet the one already in the bear-cat’s shoulder.
Ruby coughed a swath of flame that singed the bear-cat down one side. It slowed, falling behind.
The foxes began to tire.
The sled slowed too.
Then they were out of the tunnel, back under the dancing lights. Toli looked up and saw Dragon Mountain looming above them. They were so close.
Ruby dived back toward the sled, crashing at Toli’s feet and knocking her down. She grabbed the dragon and pulled her close, breathing hard. “You’re okay,” Toli said. “I’ve got you.” She looked back. “You did it, Ruby. It’s falling behind.”
“Friend,” Ruby rustled.
A loud boom sounded from the ice, echoing through the miles of empty sky. The bear-cat slid to a stop. So did the sled.
Toli stopped breathing.
“Toli,” Petal whispered, reaching forward to grasp her hand. “What was that?”
Knocking echoed below them, and the bear-cat began backing up. It lifted its paws as if it were trying not to touch anything, then spun away, slinking back off into the dark tunnel.
Toli and Wix looked at each other. She swallowed. “What—”
He shook his head. “No idea.”
She rose to her feet, still cradling Ruby. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, snapping the reins.
The foxes pulled away. In Nya’s dim light the strange orbs under the ice doubled in number. On the horizon, Toli could see dark lines, twisted trees rising from the ice. There, the ground sloped upward. The foothills of Dragon Mountain. They were almost there.
Ruby climbed down and slid to the edge of the sled. Toli watched as the dragon slowly closed her eyes—and vomited black bile onto the ice.
To birth a man or beast from a block of ice is simple. You only need to know the secret.
Listen closely. The ice is like us. It sings before it breaks.
—Belgar Walerian