Words caught on the edges of Toli’s thoughts. By telling Wix and her sister, she’d given her secret a way to the surface, and it had been waiting there ever since for a chance to escape. Her sister had forgiven her, but she knew that didn’t mean her mother would. Part of her still wanted to bury it all here, in the dark.
But her mother deserved more. Wix and Petal had taught her that. And she deserved to be free of the secret.
Toli pressed her lips together but then let the words claw their way out. “I should have done what I was told. I should have stayed inside,” she said. “When I charged the … When I charged the dragon, it distracted him. It distracted Father.” It was too hot for tears, and Toli rubbed at the salt gathered on her lashes. “He died because of me.”
Silence filled the space. All she could hear were her mother’s shallow breaths. The queen’s hand tightened over hers.
Toli felt the soft rush of the Dragon-Mother’s scales as she gathered her coils, her whole body blocking the path forward. Her hot breath stirred the air without cooling it at all. “You were the child who charged.” The Dragon-Mother rustled. Toli nodded, and somehow the Dragon-Mother knew it. “I thought so. We have spoken of your courage here in the Mountain. Were you not injured?”
Toli’s shoulders sagged. She almost wished the Dragon-Mother would eat her. “I was. One of them hit me with its tail. I … I was unconscious for the rest. I’m sorry.” Her shoulders began to shake as she sobbed without tears. “I’m sorry, Mother.”
Her mother didn’t answer, just pulled Toli into a crushing embrace. “It isn’t your fault, Anatolia.”
“How can you say that?”
Her mother’s arms tightened, but as she took a breath to speak, the dragon rattled. “Shush. Do not answer her. They are so foolish, these children. I have been a mother much longer than you. I will speak to her. Shush now.” The dragon huffed a burst of steam that scorched Toli’s face. “You are strange creatures—so filled with bile and bite—but I think your people cannot see very far.”
Toli, staring into the shadows, couldn’t think of anything to say. The Dragon-Mother continued. “You cannot see what you gave your father that day.”
Toli stopped breathing. “Gave him? What do you mean?”
“My young brought me the story,” the dragon whispered. “The one who returned told me of your father’s bravery in battle.” The Dragon-Mother paused. “You did not see it while you slept in the snow. His death is not on your hands. My young would have attacked your Queendom in their haste. Your father saved your people, and had you not been there, he would not have had the weapon you handed him.”
“I didn’t give him a weapon.”
“Oh, but you did. Without you, your father would not have had his anger, and my children would have killed many upon many. His love and fear for you became his anger. That is what caused him to lead the charge. That is what fueled him—that is why he was able to injure both of my children—and save your people.”
Next to her, Toli could feel her mother listening in the darkness.
“It is hard to be a child,” the dragon whispered. “You have carried this sacrifice to me over a long path of time, so I will give another gift of truth. Your anger should be elsewhere. With us—perhaps. Or heaped upon my Spar’s brittle spirit. Perhaps you do not realize—it was Spar’s actions that brought the strike on your father. It is the barb under her skin.”
“Spar? What do you mean?”
“She did not keep to your ways. She wished to take back the tithe and see what we would do. She and your father had almost come to blows when my young arrived.”
Next to Toli, her mother’s breath caught. “But—”
“That is the story my young returned to me. She wanted to keep it, against your father’s wishes. They were nearly at each other’s throats when my brethren came to them. Once my children believed that Spar would win the fight and keep the tithe, they attacked. They were right to take offense, but it was impetuous of them to attack. They should have come to me. It was my judgment to make.”
The Dragon-Mother blew steam. “They underestimated your people,” she added with a long, knowing pause that said she didn’t plan to make the same mistake. “Spar should have protected your father, but in her anger, she let him fall. Your father was fierce. My youngling’s blood had already been spilled across the ice. He was already dying when Spar delivered her final blow.”
“What are you saying?” her mother asked.
“It is as you say, little mother. Your firstborn bears no fault. No, if you wish to find blame with one of your own people, you must look to my Spar.”
At first, all the words spun through Toli’s mind like a wind, carving away everything they touched. She remembered what Spar had told her in the obsidian chamber after Petal had accused her of betraying the Queendom. I did that a long time ago, she had said.
Toli had been too distracted to think about it then, but now understanding clicked into place. The dragons hadn’t just been hungry. Spar had provoked them. She had betrayed the Queendom a long time ago, and it wasn’t just her burns, but the guilt of that treachery, that made her hate the dragons so much. How long had the hunt master dreamed of revenge and self-destruction?
Her mother’s voice was soft and thick. “I should have been there to fight at his side.”
Toli leaned into her mother. “But if you had been there—you’d be dead too.”
She sighed. “My head knows it, but my heart won’t listen.”
Toli understood all too well. A sliver of gratitude pierced through the haze clouding her head. Spar had betrayed them all, and her father had fought well after her reckless mistake. Maybe it was foolish for her to blame herself. She could never truly know what would have happened that day had she not gone out on the ice. The past was like the ice—it would never bend, but it would also never forget.
“You must be very grateful,” said the Dragon-Mother. “I think I have given you another gift. You will return this debt when I request it.”
The Dragon-Mother’s silhouette lurched close to the queen. “You will tell her of your choice now. You will tell her, Ire’s queen—what you have chosen.”
Toli focused on the dim impression of her mother’s face. What did the Dragon-Mother mean? “What did you choose?”
Her mother didn’t answer at first, shifting in the dim light cast by one of the fissures in the wall. Then she sighed. “I’m not going back with you,” she said.
“What? What do you mean, you’re not going back?”
“The Dragon-Mother wants … It’s complicated, but she’s asked me—”
“Tell me!”
The Dragon-Mother rattled a warning.
“Shhh, Toli. Listen. I’m going with them,” she explained, her eyes begging Toli to understand. “When they fly. The Dragon-Mother said she has need for one of our people to travel with them. She wants it to be a queen.”
Toli recalled the images in the silver pool. “To the south? No. You can’t.”
“The Dragon-Mother wishes to create some kind of understanding with the people to the south. We need to go as allies to make them listen. If we’re successful, there might be trade between us—and more food for everyone. They’ll bring me back when they return, assuming … assuming everything goes well.” Her mother’s hand brushed her cheek. “I never even dreamed that there are more of us in the South. It will be lovely to see it.”
Toli heard the sadness in her mother’s voice and studied her feet, trying to clear her head, to hear her own thoughts over the pounding of her heart. “No,” she said. “Let me go.”
“What? No!”
“Please, Mother. Listen. I’m not ready to rule our people, but I’m ready for this. This is how I want to serve Gall.” She paused. How could she explain? She took her mother’s hands in her own. “Do you know why I love hunting?”
“Because of your father.”
“Yes, because of Father, but also because of the way I feel when I’m on the ice, with Nya shining and the wind at my back. And when I saw the dragons in the South, and—and the people in the Dragon-Mother’s crystal chamber? It was like that. Like being out on a hunt. You should see the people there, Mother! They’re like us—but they’re different too. And the sleds! There were sleds riding the waves of the sea. I’ve never seen anything like it. I want to know what Ire is like without the ice holding her back.”
“But, Toli—”
Toli gripped her mother’s arms. “And this way, maybe I can see Ruby again too.”
“Ruby?”
Toli smiled. “She’s a dragon. It’s a long story.”
“Your firstborn will suffice,” the Dragon-Mother hissed over her shoulder as she turned to go. “There is a trust between us, and she has been tested. Your queen-to-be will go in your place—she has proven herself. I have decided.” She paused. “And did you not tell me that a queen’s place is with her people?”
Toli could almost feel her mother glare into the dim tunnel where the Dragon-Mother lingered. Her grip tightened on Toli’s arms, and she dropped her voice to a hiss. “Anatolia. You know … you know how fickle they are.” She lowered her voice. “They can’t be trusted. Not fully. You do know that.”
Toli considered it. She thought of Ruby saving them from the bear-cat, sacrificing her strength for their warmth. Maybe not all dragons could be trusted, but some could. Just like people. They were predators, it was true, and there was no telling what they might do—or what they might expect. But Toli would not follow Spar’s path of hatred.
Gently she peeled her mother’s hands away, and stood as tall as she could in the dark. “Let me try—please! The Queendom has to know what’s really in the South. I have to know who the people there are—and if Ruby is with me, she and I will learn more about dragons together. Trust me,” Toli said, imagining her mother’s worried face. “I can do this. I know I can.”
A pause. “You’re sure?”
Toli had never been so certain of anything in her life. “Yes.”
Her mother shifted, stepping closer. “I told you there was more to being a queen than just hunting. It seems to me you’ve learned that.” Her voice broke. “I’m proud to call you my heir, Anatolia.”
“Thank you,” Toli wrapped her arms around her mother’s shoulders.
Her mother’s fingers tightened into fists at her back as she bent her mouth to Toli’s ear. “But if anything happens to you … make no mistake. There will be war.”
Toli swallowed, her heart skipping a beat. She wondered whether her mother knew the Dragon-Queen could hear them.
“Tell me you understand,” the queen of Gall said.
“I understand, Mother.”
“Good.” After a moment, she let go. “Let’s go find your sister,” she whispered.
The Dragon-Mother hummed a purr. “I will return to the heart of the Mountain to see to who you call Ruby. You will follow this path up. Bola has the others.” She slipped past them with a rush of scales and was gone.
Toli and her mother walked shoulder to shoulder, and as the path rose closer and closer to the main cavern, the air got cooler and brighter. When the huge chamber opened up in front of them, her mother’s breath hitched.
At the edge of the seethe pit, Petal and Wix stood waiting for them, watching the young dragons writhing in their own light. Petal ran to throw her arms around Toli and the queen.
“I knew you could do it,” Wix said, thumping her on the back.
Petal grinned. “Hello, Mother.”
The queen tugged Petal close, her knuckles white as she kissed the top of Petal’s head. “My girls,” she said, and Toli’s heart lifted.
Bola Stone brought them water in a grade while they sat together at the edge of the seethe pit, and Toli told them what had happened. When her throat was parched again with talking, she turned to Petal. “What about you? I mean, I see you’re okay, but what happened? Where’s Dral?”
“Bola got us down,” Petal answered. “I think Dral is gone. He left us there not long after you had gone.” She paused. “Where do you think he went?”
They sat, considering this for a few long moments before Wix tipped his head back, staring fixedly at the ceiling. “When will you be back?” he asked.
Toli bumped him with her shoulder. “When molting season begins—with the dragons.”
“That’s months away.”
Toli grinned. “Guess I’ll have a lot to tell you.”
Petal leaned her head against Toli. “When are you leaving?”
“In a few weeks.”
“Are you sure you can’t come home first? Not even to say goodbye?”
“You heard what Bola said. I have a lot to do here to prepare. Maybe I’ll figure out a way to ride on Bola’s back without falling to my death.”
Wix nudged her with his elbow. “If I know you, you’ll be riding on the back of the Dragon-Mother herself.”
Toli’s mother rolled her eyes. “Regardless. I must agree that whichever dragon you ride with, you had best avoid falling to your death.” She ran her palm along Toli’s braid.
Wix met Toli’s eyes. “And what about Ruby? Will she be all right?”
Toli fiddled with her fingers. “I don’t know. The Dragon-Mother took her to the heart of the Mountain. She said it was the only thing that could heal her.”
Petal stared toward the tunnel that led down into the heart. “What it’s like down there?”
“Hot,” Toli and the Queen said together, then laughed.
Wix rolled his eyes.
Petal wrapped her hair up into a tight bun like the queen’s. “Maybe if she’s well enough when it’s time to fly, they’ll let her ride with you.”
Toli cracked a smile. “If Ruby is as much of a pest to the Dragon-Mother as she is to us, they’ll probably beg me to take her.” She turned to her sister. “I know you’ll be busy—and in high demand. You won’t even have time to miss me.”
Petal gave her a sideways smile. “I’ll have time to miss you—but yes, I will be busy. I’ve got to help Rasca organize the stores, and I’m hoping to help judge the carving work this year.”
“Any favorites?”
Petal blinked. “I’ve always loved Yassa Rall’s work. I’ll be interested to see what she carves.”
Toli scuffed her toe against the cavern floor. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to teach you how to use your knife—or the bow.”
“Actually, I thought maybe I’d ask Wix to teach me to hunt. We’ll be shorthanded until you get back, after all.” She paused, uncertainty filling her eyes as she met Toli’s gaze. “Do you think I can learn?”
Toli laughed. “I think you can do anything.” She pressed the tip of one finger to her lips and gave Wix a sideways look. “In fact,” she said, “if he teaches you to hunt bison—successfully, mind you—maybe we can set up a little competition when I get back.”
Petal snorted. “That ought to do it.” She broke into a laugh. “That’s going to make Pendar and Rasca crazy.”
Toli bit her lip. “Hug the old bat for me—but don’t tell her I called her that. Pendar too.”
The queen chuckled. “This is a great honor, Anatolia. Remember that, and remember to remain cautious. Guard yourself well, and you’ll learn more about them, even as they learn more about us. It’s a big step forward.” She paused. “I’m very proud of you.”
Toli’s eyes prickled. She looked up. Above them, crystal stalactites sparkled and gleamed, but in that moment, all Toli could think about was how she wasn’t going to see her family for months—and that was if everything went well.
Light from the jewels bounced off Petal’s dark hair as dragons slipped past, ignoring them. Petal cleared her throat. “What do you think they’re like—the people down there? Do you think they know about us?”
Toli hesitated. “I guess I’ll find out soon enough.”
Her sister nodded and gave a delicate snort. “Promise to tell me everything?”
Toli noticed how young Petal looked, and she gave her a soft smile. Her sister would be fine. “I promise,” she said.
Wix nudged her. “Here,” he said. “For luck.”
She met his hazel eyes as he handed her a cunningly carved dragon.
“It’s from your sled,” he explained. “I … I thought you might want something to remember it by.”
Toli wrapped her arms around him, squeezing until he burst into a laugh. “Okay, okay. I’m glad you like it.”
They sat watching the dragons, talking until they ran out of things to say. Toli racked her brain for more—more questions to ask or things she’d left out—anything to make the time with them last a little longer.
Hot breath at their backs nearly startled Wix into the seethe pit with the young dragons. Toli looked up, and Bola chuckled.
“Yes?” Toli’s mother asked, standing. Bola stepped back.
“Our Dragon-Mother sends me to take you and the others home. She’s tired of your yammering. She says enough is enough—you’re too loud.”
Petal swallowed. “She … she can hear us … all the way up here?”
“Come on, love,” her mother whispered, pulling Petal to her feet. Toli and Wix stood too.
Toli wondered where Spar was now and what she was doing. Did her former mentor regret what she’d done—and did she think of Toli at all? “Do you think they’ll kill Spar?” she asked her mother at last.
The queen’s face fell. “It’s possible. I don’t know,” she said. “But the Dragon-Mother has claimed her, for better or worse, and I don’t envy Spar right now. That’s certain.”
Petal cast her eyes down. “She would have gotten us all killed.”
“I wish I’d seen what was happening to her sooner,” Toli whispered.
Queen Una put one arm around each of her daughters. “Never be ashamed of trusting another person.” Her mother pressed her lips together. “And don’t worry. Instinct is a muscle. It will get stronger the more you use it.” She turned Toli to face her. “We’ll see you in a season’s time, Anatolia, under Nya’s promised light.”
Toli’s throat tightened. “Tell everyone I’m okay, and that … and that I’ll be back.”
Wix and Petal hugged her tightly.
When they pulled away, Wix’s expression was fierce. “Don’t die,” he said, then spun away, hurrying toward Bola. A lump rose in Toli’s throat as he walked away. She bumped Petal with her elbow. “Thank you, Petal.”
Petal’s eyebrows rose. “For what?”
“For stowing away in my sled. For … following me onto the deep ice even though you knew it was likely to kill us both. For saving me.” She paused. “For being my sister.”
Petal turned a shade of red that Toli had never seen on her before. She opened her mouth, and for a moment Toli thought her sister’s throat might have closed. She was about to whack Petal on the back, when she choked out, “You’re welcome.”
They hugged each other once more, and then it was her mother’s turn. “I’m proud of you, Toli,” she said.
An ache filled her chest, but she nodded against her mother’s soft shoulder, then turned to Bola. “Now what?”
“Now we get on with it.” The dragon unfurled her taloned fingers, and Petal stepped up into her palm, holding out a hand for their mother to climb on.
Wix jumped in with a laugh, and Toli watched as Bola’s wings beat the air, carrying her family into the aurora-streaked sky.