As the questions tumbled out, her mother turned to look at the Dragon-Mother and her voice faltered. “You swore you wouldn’t hurt them.”
“Nor have I, little queen. We will meet your other child, and their friend, in the large cavern soon. Bola told me they were being held in the obsidian. She will fetch them now.”
Her mother pulled her close, and Toli felt her sigh. Toli glanced at the dragon. It was hard to be certain—her eyes were so painfully dry that it was hard to see clearly—but she thought she saw a flicker of amusement in the Dragon-Mother’s eyes.
Ignoring the heat, and the watchful stare of the Dragon-Mother, the queen held her tightly, as if she were afraid to let go. Toli pressed her cheek into her mother’s shoulder. She would tell her everything—everything that had happened and everything she had learned—but later.
“I’m so glad to see you,” she mumbled.
“Your people bond well,” the Dragon-Mother said in her voice like the wind.
“Our bonds are everything to us,” her mother answered with a hitch in her voice.
The dragon paused, lowering her head level with theirs. “This is something we have in common.” The force of her breathing tugged at Toli’s clothes. “So, little truth-teller. Here is your mother—your reward for returning our youngling to us and bringing us the tale of my betrayal, and yours.”
The queen’s grip tightened on Toli’s arms as she pushed her away. “‘Yours.’ What does she mean, ‘yours’?”
“Spar betrayed us.” Toli’s chest burned with tears she couldn’t cry. “She threatened to kill me and tried to kill the Dragon-Mother, to be free of their bond. And she wanted the Queendom and the dragons to go to war.” Toli hurried to get the words out as shock etched lines across her mother’s forehead. “She’s okay though … sort of … she’s … the Dragon-Mother claimed her.”
“Claimed her? I don’t understand,” the queen said.
The Dragon-Mother hummed. “Nonetheless, it is so. Spar is fire kissed. Her connection to me is unbreakable—she is now one of us.”
The Dragon-Mother led them into the dark tunnel took them farther from the chamber. Toli heard her inhale, and in a whisper that seemed, in the darkness, to come from everywhere, she said, “I have been generous to spare your life. I have brought you far into the Mountain. You, of all your kind, have approached the heart, where one day, a new seethe will come into being. Now, little warrior, you must give something in return. You must tell me something.”
The darkness crowded around Toli, her words sinking into the heat. “What do you want me to tell you?”
Her mother felt for her hand, clasping it tightly.
The Dragon-Mother gave one of her strange rattles, a dry chuckle that ricocheted from the walls. “A truth. You will offer me a sacrifice of truth in repayment.”
“But I told you the truth. When I looked into the silver, I—”
The silence thickened.
Toli paused in midstep, one foot not quite touching the ground. She thought of Petal and Wix waiting in the geode. “Okay,” she said.
The Dragon-Mother huffed out her breath. “You know—we killed your father.”
Next to her, the queen stilled, and for several long moments, Toli couldn’t speak. “Yes,” she said at last, “I know.”
The darkness grew heavy with a weight of its own. She sensed, more than saw, when the dragon moved forward again, and the tunnel opened into another cavern. Ahead, she heard the slip of scales as the Dragon-Mother coiled, turning to face them.
“Where is your anger, then, little bag of bones—little child? I have seen none of it. I have come to understand your mother in our time together, but where is your rage? I scent it in you. Do not lie to me. I will taste it.”
Toli’s stomach turned. Her consciousness shrank. Had the dragon brought her all the way into the heart of the Mountain, into the dark, to kill her—or only to torture her?
“Well? I’ve asked for your truth. So, tell me, what truth will you give me, for these honors that I share with you?”
“Honors?” Toli repeated dumbly.
“Life! You live! Your sister, and your mother, your friend—all live! Perhaps I am too generous,” she hissed.
Her mother gasped as the Dragon-Mother shifted, knocking Toli off-balance so she stumbled and almost fell. “Tell me. Where is your anger?” the Dragon-Queen asked. “Will you threaten my seethe with it? Do you come here to learn our secrets?”
Toli’s throat tightened around the words as if her body wanted to hold tightly to them, but she forced them forward. “You’re right. I am angry.” The Dragon-Mother’s chuckle drove away Toli’s pride. She closed her eyes. It made no difference. She inhaled, scorching the back of her parched throat, and croaked, “I’m angry, but not just at you.”
“Don’t,” her mother said. “Don’t make her talk about it.” She moved close in the dark, her shoulder pressing into Toli’s, one hand gripping tightly to hers.
“Be still, little queen. I am not speaking to you now.” In the darkness, Toli could hear the Dragon-Mother draw back. Scales slipped along the rock as the dragon circled them. Toli could feel the heat of the dragon’s breath on her skin. “Who else could you blame? Your Daughter Moon? Your father? Is it he?”
Toli’s voice caught as the words pushed from her center. “No. I blame … myself.”
“Toli—” Her mother’s voice was thick.
The Dragon-Mother’s warning rattle filled the darkness, and her mother fell silent.
“Explain.”
Seconds passed, each sharper than the last, as Toli fought the desire to keep her guilt to herself. She had been pretending it was better that way for so long, believing that if she didn’t tell, she’d never have to see the disappointment and betrayal in her mother’s eyes.
Now it wasn’t that Toli had stopped being afraid, but telling Petal and Wix had made her ready to sacrifice her fear. She would let it burn in the heart of Dragon Mountain, and she would trust her mother with her story.
You want to find happiness? Do what I tell you. Learn patience.
Let go of things that don’t belong to you. Speak your truth.
—Rasca
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
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 answ
er 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?”
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