“What is it?” Cricket whispered.
Sundew cut her gaze toward the very bottom of the stone slab, where the corner met the grass. A tiny shard of stone was missing, leaving a small gap between the base and the ground.
Something pale green was shoved into the gap.
Cricket realized that Sundew had angled herself to shield Cricket from view of anyone passing in the marketplace. She reached down and quickly tugged the something free.
It was a leaf, folded into a square. Unfolded, a message was revealed, inked across the veins on the inside.
Midnight. Library. 5.
Her heart thumping wildly, Cricket refolded the leaf and slid it back into place. She didn’t know what the “5” meant, but the rest seemed pretty clear.
“I think we have a way to find the Chrysalis,” she said to Sundew under her breath. “And I think I know where we can hide until then.”
Cricket’s mother, Cadelle, lived about eight levels above the Glitterbazaar, in a neighborhood of little residential squares and parks that was respectable but not the wealthiest part of the Hive. It looked fancy enough to Cricket, but she’d heard her mother complain for hours about the classless neighbors, the long climb to her job at the university, and the shabby condition of the streets.
And one thing Cadelle hated in particular was the water tower that stood in the center of the square, directly across from her house. It was ghastly, it was covered in rust, there was nothing more hideous in the world, why couldn’t she have been given a house on the sky-view side instead, why did she have to look at it every day, was this her punishment for the two little monsters she’d loosed on the world, couldn’t the Hive do something to make it more attractive, why didn’t anyone else care, if she’d been designing the Hive she’d have put all the water tanks under the street or at least on a level where no one important had to look at them.
But on their first visit to Jewel Hive, Katydid and Cricket had decided that it would make a perfect hiding spot.
“Maybe not perfect,” Katydid had conceded, testing the rickety, rusty iron legs that held it up. “You’ll probably get wet. Not sure how you’ll explain that.”
“I’ll think of something, if I need to,” Cricket said. She’d flown up to the top of the tower to make sure she could open the hatch by herself. She was four then, but she’d figured out the complicated latch after studying it for a moment. This was where SilkWing workers would climb in and out to clean the tank, and where they’d pour in the new water, gathered from sinkholes under the savanna or transported by air from Lake Scorpion.
This was the first thing they did wherever they went, Cricket and Katydid. Cricket was already used to doing it on her own, too. In every new place, she looked for somewhere to hide. She needed somewhere she could get to quickly and quietly, in case Queen Wasp suddenly brainwashed everyone with her orders (or as Katydid called them, “whole-Hive commands”). She needed to be ready to vanish at any moment.
She’d never had to use the water tower, though. Their two visits had been short, and there hadn’t been any all-Hive mind-control moments while they were in Jewel Hive.
So she just had to hope that it was as good a hiding place as they’d thought it would be.
The streets around her mother’s house were mostly deserted; it was still fairly early in the morning, so most dragons had either gone to work already, or, more likely, were still asleep after desperately trying to outlast everyone else at the parties and salons the night before. But the posters of Queen Wasp’s face seemed to loom larger than ever, her eyes glaring down at them around every turn.
Worse yet, new posters had sprung up on several of the walls throughout the Hive:
WANTED — WANTED — WANTED
FOR CRIMES AGAINST THE TRIBE AND THE SACRED MEMORY OF CLEARSIGHT
EXTREMELY DANGEROUS — APPROACH WITH CAUTION
REWARD FOR ANY INFORMATION OR IDENTIFICATION THAT LEADS TO AN ARREST
And underneath all that, drawings of Blue, Swordtail, and Cricket.
But not Sundew, Cricket noticed. Queen Wasp doesn’t want to admit that a LeafWing got all the way inside her own Hive. Even though hundreds of dragons must have seen her as we escaped with the Book. But if the queen says it didn’t happen, that’s the new truth. Is there anyone who would dare to disagree with her?
Her heart seized and jumped every time they passed another dragon near one of the posters, every time a HiveWing glanced at them, every time she caught a glimpse of her own face on a wall behind someone’s wings.
What will happen to us if we get caught? What does Queen Wasp do with traitors? I’ve never heard of one in my lifetime — is that because there haven’t been any, or because she made them disappear?
I wonder what happened to that dragon who tried to fight back against the mind control.
The only thing I know for sure: if we get caught, I’ll never see Blue again. He’ll be thrown back in the flamesilk cavern.
And the rest of us? Will we be executed publicly? Or vanish without a trace?
She’d always lived with a quiet fear at the back of her mind that one day she’d be found out and the queen would be furious. But this new fear was like termites in her skull, much more constant and present and squirming through all of her thoughts.
When they reached the square her mother lived on, they had to wait out of sight, around a corner, until a pair of SilkWings finished polishing the art around the water tower. Dragonfly Square was named for a hero of the Tree Wars (as were many spots all around the Hives), and it was decorated with sculptures of dragonflies in her honor. They ranged from tiny mobiles, each dragonfly as long as one of Cricket’s talons, to one the size of a dragon, perched on the side of the water tank. Their shiny metallic blues and greens gave the square the strange vibe of an electrocuted garden.
Sundew peered around the square as the two cleaners packed up their things and set off down a side street. “What’s the plan here?” she hissed. “We’re hiding in one of the houses?”
“No.” Cricket pointed at the tower. “In there. There’s a hatch at the very top, near the ceiling.”
Swordtail wrinkled his snout. “Um, isn’t that … full of water?”
“Not all the way,” Cricket said. “There’s a ledge and room to breathe at the top.”
He still looked skeptical, but Sundew was already striding toward the tallest house. Staying in its shadow, she spread her wings, tossing back the cape, and soared up the wall. She was in the open for two heartbeats, hopping from the roof to the top of the tower, and then she was hidden by the curve of the tank.
Cricket followed her along the same path, with Blue and Swordtail behind her. They all landed as quietly as they could on the top of the tank, but the thunk of their talons on the metal still echoed enough to make Cricket wince.
There was the hatch, and as before, she was able to get it open quickly. She slipped inside first, reaching down with her tail to see how much space there was between the roof and the water level.
It was higher than last time, just covering the ledge that ran around the inside at the top. Cricket dropped onto the flat, latticed surface with a small splash and edged around to the other side, where she and Katydid had stabbed one of three peepholes. Through the hole in the metal, she could see straight down to her mother’s house.
Is she still in there, or did she leave for work already?
Has she seen my face on the posters? Did she tell the queen I’m her daughter?
Is she disappointed in me? Or did this just prove everything she thought about me all along?
Cricket sighed. It was dark in the tank, and a little eerie with the vast expanse of water silent below them. But she could feel the brush of Blue’s wings as he came and settled next to her, comforting her without saying a word.
Mother might be disappointed. But being different from the other HiveWings … I think that makes me lucky.
Sundew closed the hatch behind her and for a very long time,
the four of them sat quietly, each thinking their own thoughts.
Sundew is dreaming of vengeance; Swordtail is worrying about Luna. Blue is imagining being them, or me, or any of the dragons who live in this Hive. I wonder if he would understand my mother. If he met her, could he explain her to me?
Cricket could just picture her mother’s face if she ever brought Blue home for dinner.
She tried to focus on the mind control. Would the Chrysalis know anything she didn’t? If they combined their research, would it reveal something new? Was it possible they were working on a way to free the HiveWings?
Or at least Katydid, she thought. If I could free Katydid, I could stop worrying so much.
“We’re stuck in here until midnight?” Swordtail whispered.
“Yes,” Cricket whispered back, clearing the fog from her glasses with one of the silk scarves around her neck.
“Whew.” She felt the ledge vibrate as he shook his head. “It’s going to be a long day.”
Sometime later, Cricket discovered she had nodded off when Blue nudged her awake. She was disoriented by the darkness, so it took her a moment to access her natural sense of time. Almost midday. Her talons and tail were entwined with Blue’s, and she pulled them back and adjusted her glasses, glad he couldn’t see her expression.
“Cricket,” he said softly. “Is that your mother?”
She leaned up to the hole where he was peering out. Sure enough, down below a dragon was coming out of her mother’s house. A dragon the color of tangerines, with black patterns zigzagging along her spine and out to the edges of her wings.
“Yes,” she said. “That’s Cadelle.” She hadn’t seen her since the last rainy season. Katydid kept sending messages asking to visit and Cadelle always said no. Sometimes she said no in strongly worded letters about how annoying and useless they were.
Why do I still want her to love me? Cricket wondered.
“Want me to drop a mango on her?” Sundew offered.
“You have a MANGO?” Swordtail asked indignantly.
“No, you acorn. It’s a metaphorical mango.”
“I don’t see how metaphorical mangoes are going to do us any good,” Swordtail muttered.
Cadelle hurried off toward the ramps that led to the upper levels. She taught history at Jewel Hive University, which Cricket had heard her describe as “a job where I teach my replacements, because what else are they going to do with this information.”
She moved as purposefully and quickly as she always did. She didn’t slow down or glance sideways as she passed the Wanted posters of Cricket and her friends.
Has she even noticed it’s me?
Maybe she doesn’t care.
Cadelle strode out of sight down one of the avenues and Cricket sighed. Her mother was a question that seemed as though it would never have an answer.
She was about to lie down again when she spotted a flicker of movement from behind one of the other houses.
Cricket paused, squinting toward it. Was it a trick of the light? Or was that shadow bigger than it should be?
Something moved again, and this time she was sure it was a dragon’s head peeking out, glancing furtively around, and then withdrawing, like a snail testing the open air with its antennae.
Another few long moments passed, and then two dragons carefully slipped out of the shadows. They both wore half capes with hoods, of pale silver embroidered with emerald threads, and they kept their heads down as they crossed the square toward Cadelle’s house.
One turned to check up and down the streets as the other crouched and pulled Cadelle’s spare key out from behind the loose tile where she kept it.
Cricket gasped.
It wasn’t just that the silver-caped dragon knew where the key was. It was the way she moved, the flick of her tail as she walked, the tilt of her head as she unlocked the door.
The dragon sneaking into her mother’s house right now was Cricket’s sister, Katydid.
“That’s my sister!” Cricket whispered to Blue, keeping her eye pressed to the hole. “What is she doing here? Why is she sneaking in instead of letting our mother know she’s here? And who is she with?”
The other dragon was a lot bigger than Katydid, but it was hard to see many details through the tiny spyhole and from such a height. The dragon’s scales that Cricket could see were yellow, with black stripes on the wings, but that didn’t narrow it down very much.
Katydid got the door open and turned back to look at her partner. The other dragon said something, and then they split up. Mystery dragon went to the corner of the avenue where Cadelle had gone, presumably to keep watch. Katydid slipped inside and closed the door behind her.
“I have to talk to her,” Cricket said, standing up.
“What?” Swordtail cried. “That’s a terrible idea! Sundew, tell her that’s a terrible idea.”
“She could turn into Queen Wasp at any moment,” Sundew pointed out.
“Exactly,” Swordtail agreed. “You heard the boss.”
“But as long as she’s herself, I know she’s the one HiveWing I can trust,” Cricket said. “And I need to make sure she’s all right. I never said good-bye.” Her breath caught in her throat and she had to struggle for the next words. “Or … explained or told her I was going or anything. And now she’s here, right where I can talk to her. I just have to.”
“Of course you should,” Blue said. She could hear a thread of guilt in his voice. She knew he was thinking about how she had left her sister behind forever because she’d been helping him. He didn’t have to feel bad about that; it had been her choice. But she didn’t have time to reassure him — she had to hurry before Katydid slipped through her claws.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said, flying up to the hatch.
“If you can,” Swordtail said glumly. “If she doesn’t lose her mind and go all white-eyed and take you to the queen.”
“Well,” Cricket said, shooting Sundew a grin as a beam of light lit the LeafWing’s concerned face. “Get some vicious caterpillars ready for me.”
She hopped out onto the roof and as she pulled the hatch shut, she heard Sundew’s voice saying, “They’re CENTIPEDES; what is WRONG with you dragons?”
Cricket peeked over the edge at the dragon standing guard. Whoever it was did seem kind of familiar. But she couldn’t risk them trying to stop her — or deciding to turn her in.
She spread her wings and floated quietly, quietly down to the highest balcony of her mother’s house. The door here was also locked — Cadelle was very careful — but the balcony led to the least welcoming guest room of all time, where Katydid and Cricket had slept on their visits. The sisters had fiddled with the latch until it was just broken enough not to be noticed, so they could get in and out secretly if they needed to.
Cricket slid her claw under the latch and wiggled it up. The doors swung open toward her and she quickly hopped inside and pulled them shut again.
Across the room, Katydid whirled around, clutching a stack of papers to her chest. Her face made Cricket feel as if a thousand butterflies had just burst into the sky at once.
“Katydid!” Cricket leaped over the thin sleep pallets and threw her wings around her sister.
“No way,” Katydid breathed. “Cricket? This can’t be real.” She took Cricket’s shoulders and held her out to study her face. “By the Hives, it’s really you. Are you all right?”
“I am,” Cricket said. “I’m so sorry, Katydid. I know you must have been so worried. Are you all right? What are you doing here?”
“Your face is on posters in every Hive!” her sister cried. “They’re saying you tried to steal the Book of Clearsight! And that you’re running around with a pair of SilkWings! Cricket, you have to turn yourself in and tell them it’s all lies. I’m sure if we explain —”
“But it’s not all lies,” Cricket interrupted her. “Katydid, we did steal the Book of Clearsight. The lie is everything Queen Wasp has ever said about it. Nothing sh
e’s told us is true.”
Katydid sat down suddenly, as though her legs had turned to sand. “Oh, Cricket. Why?”
“I don’t know, to keep power, maybe? To make sure no one ever questioned her?”
“No — why did you steal the Book? What were you thinking?”
Cricket was thrown. “That’s not the important part, Katydid. I was trying to help someone. But didn’t you hear what I said? It’s all lies — everything Wasp said about the Tree Wars, about the SilkWings joining our tribe, all of it!”
“I’m sure she had her reasons!” Katydid said. “But you’re in so much trouble now, Cricket! I don’t know how to help. I don’t know how to fix it!” She pulled Cricket into another hug and Cricket felt how cold her sister’s scales were.
“You don’t have to fix it,” Cricket said, holding her tight. “I just came to tell you I’m all right — and to make sure you are, too. Who’s that dragon outside? Why are you here instead of Cicada Hive?” She glanced around the small, bare room as Katydid leaned back. “And what are you doing in Mom’s house?”
“I came to get these,” Katydid said. She picked up the pile of papers she’d dropped, and Cricket realized it was drawings of her — drawings her sister had done on their last visit, of Cricket sleeping, laughing, rolling her eyes. Katydid was a good artist; they really looked like Cricket. Much more than the Wanted posters did.
“As far as we know, no one has told the queen who you are yet,” Katydid said. “Maybe they haven’t recognized you, or maybe they’re afraid to admit they know you. I don’t know why Mother hasn’t, but I was worried that the queen would see these drawings through her eyes and realize she must know you.”
“But if you take them,” Cricket said, “then isn’t it possible she’ll see them through your eyes?”
The Hive Queen (Wings of Fire, Book 12) Page 8