Wings of Fire: Prencia - Finding Serenity

SUMMARY (BOOK FLAP)
Tilda has finally arrived at Pantala, where Ivory was casted away to. She learns that getting back won’t be easy, especially when Ivory and she are in debt with Morris’s boss, Regan. Will Tilda be able to keep them out of harm’s way - or will this be the end of it all?
THE PRENCIA PROPHECY
When the sky falls, 
Tribes will unite
And collapse the walls
That contrast and divide.
Use our power for the greater good,
And soon,
We’ll have enough wood
To build walls with gates.
PROLOGUE
Why can’t I fall asleep?
	It’s usually so easy.
	I tell myself a story, and I drift off.
	Why is it so difficult to think of a happy little story?
	The anxiety felt heavy. Like there was an anvil planted in Sachar’s heart.
Every story he tried to create ended in guilt and sadness.
If I hadn’t complained about wanting food in the middle of a hurricane, Ivory wouldn’t have had to watch his father get executed.
 	If I hadn’t complained about wanting food in the middle of a hurricane, I would have Garret by my side.
 	If I hadn’t complained about wanting food in the middle of a hurricane, Ethel and Tilda wouldn’t be alone in a lake, in the midst of a storm.
	Why must I cause so much mischief in the world? 
	Sachar stared out the window. The sky was flushed violet and the stars were sprinkled across the sky like crumbs of salt. 
Even after a few days, Ivory still slept with his face to the wall.
He did it so he didn’t have to reveal his tears to anyone who walked in.
Sachar at least tried to do Ivory some good deeds to ease off the pain little by little.
It started off as letting him have the mint that he got on his pillow at the hotel. 
Then it got better gradually. 
That was how Sachar showed he was sorry, since he believed words didn’t always help. 
It sounded strange for someone who talked so much. And it felt strange. And for everyone, not just Sachar.
That reminded Sachar that Garret sometimes pretended to be sad just so Sachar would stop bugging him with all his commentary. Sachar wasn’t fooled, but he thought Garret deserved a break from his overwhelming chatter so he pretended to be that gullible and stayed silent for the timespan Garret had “mourned.”
Sachar was at least glad that he had nothing to do with Morris’s new girlfriend.
It was true. Morris had bonded with a LeafWing named April while he was out robbing Queen Wasp in Pantala. 
Sachar was secretly happy for Morris. Morris needed some kind of joy in his life, no matter what it was. 
Sachar hadn’t tried convincing Ivory yet, since he doesn’t want Ivory to keep thinking about his father.
I will make this right. I know I will. Ivory, you’ll be happy again, even if your father is gone. I promise.
CHAPTER ONE
The sound of rain was gone, finally gone.
Tilda had forgotten that there was rain in the first place. 
It was like the crickets chirping at night: it is constant, so you never think much of it.
Then she remembered. 
The memory grabbed her like a giant fist, squeezing her. Squeezing her until her teeth fall out.
Ivory is gone.
 	He might as well be dead.
 	And the egg has probably been blown to smithereens.
Anguish pelted Tilda like bullets. There was nothing she could've done. 
Tilda wished Ivory were an animus, too, so he could use dreams to tell her where he was.
I think it’s about time I do some research. 
Again.
 	But wait...there’s no such thing as consulting a book on where your brother got washed up after a storm blew him away.
 	Unless he did something that caught the public eye.
 	Which, I wouldn’t be able to control from such a long distance, anyway. I’ve used my magic in so many ways to find out what happened to Father that I have only one ability: sharing my location with dream telepathy.
	Wait...where’s Ethel?
	“Ethel!” Tilda called out, her eyes darting in every direction.
In the distance, a faint, familiar voice cried, 
“Ivory! Sachar! Garret!” 
“Ethel,” Tilda sighed, pulling herself groggily out of the lake. 
“Huh? Oh! Tilda! Come help me search for the rest,” Ethel said faithfully.
“How long have you been doing this? Besides, they’re probably not anywhere near. They went in the direction of the ocean, which means we have no luck looking in the SeaWing kingdom,” Tilda said, wishing Ethel were right to look around the town.
“So...you and Ivory have a house in the RainWing kingdom, right?” Tilda recalled. 
“Um, yeah?”
“How about we go there, and stay there for a while. Maybe if we’re fixed in a certain location, we’ll feel like we know what we’re doing and we’ll be back on track in no time at all. It works every time,” Tilda explained.
“Sounds...odd,” Ethel cocked her head.
“Do you want to move around all the time?” 
“I guess not,” Ethel concluded. 
“So let’s fly there. And this time, no interruptions. We aren’t picking up any stray CaveWings, alright?” Ethel proposed. 
The two of them went there promptly, stroking the wind with their wings.
The first segment of the trip was silent. 
“You love Ivory, don’t you?” Tilda said in a snarky voice.
If Ethel were drinking something, she would’ve spat it out.
“You do too. I bet you’d go out of your way to find him, even if every bone in your body were broken,” Ethel giggled.
“Well yeah, he’s my brother. But you love him in a different way,” Tilda said confidently. 
“I guess, then,” Ethel gave up.
“I know lots of things about him by now. He hates flying, he doesn’t like crying or expressing himself, and...he cares about his family,” Ethel said, looking at Tilda when she said the last one.
“Yeah. He does. And I gotta admit, I was only trying to find out about Father because I hate being lied to,” Tilda spied down over the cliffs and forests and caves below. 
“I feel tougher now that I ran away. Like I’m ready to face the world, even at age eight,” Ethel thought aloud.
“Well, me too. I used to be so soft and vulnerable, being the only girl in the family. The eldest sibling, but not the strongest. I was always reading a scroll inside while Leo was chopping lumber outside and Ivory was out hunting. I felt...misplaced,” Tilda poured her heart out, remembering all the pastimes where life was so simple, yet so unfair. 
Ethel and Tilda shared a plethora of memories and feelings, all until the tropics came into view.
The two accelerated, and drifted down to the ground in no time.
Sunday was nearby, showing houses to a RainWing couple. 
Tilda stood there, watching, with surprise written on her face.
A dragonet selling homes? What kind of kingdom is this?
	Ethel soon disappeared into a house with a backyard that was boarded up with a maroon fence. 
“Come in,” Ethel waved her calloused talon.
Inside, there was little to no furniture. Other than that, Tilda would love to return there every day, and drink a hot bowl of hearty tomato broth. 
Tilda washed up in a barrel of icy water. Behind the window pane, a chickadee sat in a window box, peaceful and dormant. 
Tilda spat into the barrel, and wiped her face off with a fluffy blue towel that hung on a rack that was made of an oxidized alloy.
She hobbled out of the washroom, waiting for Ethel to come out of the upstairs washroom.
Ethel galloped down the stairs like a mustang, eager to have lunch. Sachar and Garret weren’t the only ones who haven’t had a proper meal in a while. 
“What do you have around here?” Tilda began ransacking the kitchen, swinging open cabinet doors and shaking cans to figure out if there was anything inside. The picture of her coming home and drinking tomato soup had come to Tilda’s mind again.
“Last time I was here, I bought some meat to bake,” Ethel said, cleaning up the kitchen after Tilda.
“That’s good. Protein…,” Drool stuck to the roof of Tilda’s mouth. 
“There it is!” Ethel grinned. “Chuck beef!”
For the next thirty-or-so minutes, Tilda crouched next to the steak in the oven. 
Tilda nearly jumped out of her skin when the timer rang. 
“Yes!” Tilda exclaimed under her breath.
The meat was umber on the outside, and a fresh pink on the inside. 
Next to their main course was a small glass of frothy orange juice. 
***
After dinner, Tilda hopped into Ivory’s bed. It was made of a light hay, along with layers of leather. 
She heard something crunch. A loud crumple.
Her elbow had sunk into a newspaper.
She took it out from under her arm.
Tilda snort-laughed. “Boyfriend?” 
“Hey!” Ethel barked intimidatingly. “Put that down and go back to sleep.”
“But this is hilarious!” 
“Well, it’s not like we’re not together.”
“But it’s not like you are together. You see, you just don’t know where you stand,” Tilda stuffed the newspaper under the bed.
“If only Ivory were here. I would ask him what he thinks,” Ethel sighed on a sorrowful note.
Another reason I need to get to the bottom of this.
What’s with all the pressure?
And with that, Tilda and Ethel fell asleep.
In the rays of the sun, everything was saturated, unlike all the other days where the sky was gray and drab.
The doorbell sang a rhythmic tone. 
“Huh?” Tilda was only half-awake. Ethel tumbled out of bed, threw on a tunic, and skipped down the stairs.
Tilda quickly followed, limping down the stairs. 
Ethel stood in the doorframe, so Tilda couldn’t get past to check what or who was there.
But Tilda managed to shove through.
A newspaper, tied loosely by a rubber band. The paper was crispy and yellow. 
Ethel unfolded it.
Tilda felt queasy. 
The headline read: “Queen Ember’s Assistant’s Daughter’s Boyfriend Found in Tsetse Hive Mental Ward.” 
He’s alive!
But…
I can’t go there. That’s where Father’s gonna die. I don’t want to watch him get executed.
Or...he’s already been executed, and Ivory saw the whole thing. It makes perfect sense. It’s spring already.
“How do we get to Pantala? I don’t know any dragon train routes that lead there,” Tilda said, trying to drive away her tears.
“We can arrange our own dragon train, can’t we?” Ethel’s ears pricked up. She looked determined.
“We aren’t authorized to do that. Besides, we’re just teens, how will we get authorization?” Tilda informed, her eyes on fire and her throat sore.
“Tilda, we’ll find a way,” Ethel promised, holding Tilda’s talons in hers.
“And even if we don’t get to them, they’ll get to us, okay?” 
“Mhm,” Tilda whinged. 
***
When Tilda woke up the next morning, she wanted to fall asleep and then never wake up again.
The smell of tinder flooded the bedroom. So did the sounds of RainWings scoring logs.
It’s chopping day. They’re cutting down trees for trading and selling. It’s a RainWing tradition.
Ethel heaved herself off the bed. She seemed to get heavier every day, being weighed down by self-pity.
Where’s Ethel?
Tilda peered through the window. 
It wasn’t just RainWings cutting wood.
Ethel was out there, too, roaming around aimlessly. She was asking the RainWings some questions, but Tilda didn’t know what she was asking them because of how loud the saws were.
Tilda ran down the stairs, and swung open the front door in oblivion.
“Ethel! You’re bothering the workers, come home right now,” She snapped.
“Huh? Oh, hey Tilda!” Ethel shouted over the chopping and cutting noises.
Tilda dragged Ethel inside. “What are you doing?”
“I was asking where the RainWing palace is,” Ethel said casually.
“Why?”
“I wanted to talk to the queen about setting up a dragon train. RainWings are very kind, so I thought I’d have a good chance at achieving my goal by asking Queen Toucan,” Ethel explained. 
Ethel isn’t wrong. RainWings are soft, goody-two-shoes, happy-go-lucky...
Tilda, stop that. You have to treat everyone right, and if you don’t, they won’t give you what you want in the end. 
“Okay, fine. I’m coming with you. But make sure to pack food. We don’t want to end up like Sachar and Garret,” Tilda lied. She just wanted to taste baked beef again.
“Yay! Ivory, we’re coming for you!” Ethel said optimistically.
***
The gate to the RainWing palace was immense and ornate. The guards wore white suits with silver embroidery and tassel. Even they looked fun to be around.
“Hello. I’m Ethereal, the daughter of Queen Ember’s assistant,” Ethel bowed before them.
I bet she does that to gain respect. Well, they’re royal guards, so why wouldn’t she address herself like that? Tilda observed.
“Oh yes, we know you. You’re all over the local paper!” The guard on the right shook her talon. Ethel chuckled, her cheeks turning red as fully ripe pomegranates.
“We’d actually like to talk to Queen Toucan, sir,” Tilda broke up the current informal conversation.
“Oh, why of course! May we ask the topic?” The guard on the left finally spoke.
The gate creaked open, the sound of the hinges tilting echoing through the entire area around them.
Inside, the chandeliers flickered warmly and bamboo stalks sat in wooden pots that lined the atrium. A stone water fountain was smack in the middle of it all, complete with a mossy statue of Queen Toucan.
A group of bodyguards marched down the hall, completely surrounding Queen Toucan.
Tilda had just realized she had never seen a queen before, of any tribe. Just drawings and names on gravestones.
Toucan wore a scarf made of jaguar fur, and a dainty crown that perched perfectly between her horns. A light pink pigment dyed her scales when she saw Tilda and Ethel.
“Visitors!” Queen Toucan said euphorically. The words, “Speed up, guards!” followed out of her mouth. 
“Oh, you must be Ethel! The daughter of Queen Ember’s assistant! You’re an inspiration,” Toucan shook Ethel’s talon vigorously, leaving Tilda unnoticed.
“And you are…?” Toucan waited for Tilda to state her name.
“Tilda. I’m an animus, but my magic is weak now,” Tilda said, her envy over Ethel’s treatment eating her up inside.
“I don’t see animuses very often. The last RainWing animus on record was Mynora, who passed away a decade ago. You two must be very special!” Toucan shook Tilda’s talon, as well.
“We’re flattered,” Ethel laughed. “Now, we have something to ask you.”
“Follow me into my office, then we can chat,” Queen Toucan’s claws clicked on the tile floor as she strutted down a hall that she had come down earlier to meet Tilda and Ethel.
“Wait! Toucan! Let us accompany you, you don’t want to get assassinated by foreigners like your mother,” A guard ran after her, his uniform fluttering. 
Toucan's face went pale, and her aura of joy had gone cold for the first time since Tilda met her.
“It’s okay, we just want to arrange a dragon train flight,” Ethel reassured, trying not to look at the queen. Toucan’s cheeks were rosy again after hearing that.
“Yes, guards. Now, where were we?” Toucan pushed away any remaining thoughts about what the guard said.
Toucan’s office was well-maintained. All the shelves were polished down, the plants had been spritzed with water, and the scrolls and books had been sorted by date of publication. Toucan sat down on a stool and put on her glasses.
“So, a dragon train, huh? Where to?” Toucan said, dunking her claws in a cup of ink.
“Pantala. Near Tsetse Hive,” Tilda said, her whole body stiff as she watched Toucan contemplate. 
“Hm...I’m not sure how that’ll go down if you’re minors. But, I can have you hire a dragon train leader,” Toucan suggested.
“Yes, we’ll do anything! Really!” Ethel said desperately, setting her talons on the desk. 
“Alright. I have a few candidates, but I’ve gotten countless great flights from specifically this dragon,” Toucan tapped her inky claw on a laminated card displaying personal information and an illustration of RainWing named Boris. 
“We can give this guy a shot,” Tilda stared down at the card, shrugging.
“Wonderful!” Toucan said enthusiastically.
“So that’s it?” Ethel sweated.
“Not quite! We still need a date for when this trip will take place, and we need to gather flight participants. You can’t travel alone such a great distance, after all. My motto is: ‘in unity is strength,’” Toucan nodded.
“Oh. Okay! We’ll do our best to spread the word about the dragon train! And we’ll agree on a specified date, of course,” Ethel said.
“And, I need your signatures. Just for authenticity that you’re the ones that set this up,” Toucan handed them the jar of ink and a long piece of paper with two blanks at the end. Ethel and Tilda signed it.
“Thank you!” Toucan took the paper from them.
CHAPTER TWO
May 11th.
	The day I reunite with Ivory.
	Tilda kicked her feet restlessly under the table as she ate breakfast. Her heart rate has increased ever since she found out that the day was May 11th. 
“This is the third day you’ve been this...jumpy. Are you sure you’re okay?” Ethel asked. She asked about it every ten minutes. And, Tilda couldn’t blame her. She was acting strange. 
Tilda dropped her fork into her bowl once she was done eating. The wild rosemary left a tang at the corners of her mouth.
“Well, I’m off to the store...again. After all, we don’t have unlimited food, right?” Tilda said quickly, making a pit stop to the sink to set the bowl down for washing.
Tilda scooped up her reusable bag and left for the store. 
Seafood. Seafood this time. I heard they’re having a sale on prawn for the next four days… Tilda’s thoughts trailed off. 
Ethel’s mother. 
	Believe it or not, Agnes was there. Queen Ember’s assistant and Ethel’s mother. And she was talking to Queen Toucan.
What the hell is she doing here? And with Toucan? Tilda gritted her teeth. If Ethel were found, Tilda would be all alone and Ethel would be in monumental trouble. She waddled out of view, but Toucan had already spotted her. She ran over to her. 
“See, Agnes, this is Ethel’s friend. You need to speak to her, too!” Toucan pushed Tilda a little closer to Agnes. 
“My ex-husband told me that Ethel ran away, and Toucan told me she’s with you,” Agnes said sternly, mugging at Tilda. She shook off the dirt and festering plants that had been caked between her claws. 
“Why, I didn’t run away with her. I ended up finding her. Plus, she never told me she was a reckless runaway. Pfft,” Tilda said, though Anges and Toucan saw right through her act.
“You’re both eight. None of you are allowed to buy a house and live there without a parent or guardian,” Agnes pointed a razor-sharp claw at Tilda. 
“Well, the one who sold the house to us was six years old, she doesn’t know any laws. And clearly, neither do adult RainWings. Child labor! Isn’t that atrocious?” Tilda tried avoiding the subject. 
“You’re getting yourself nowhere. Lead us to your home,” Agnes said, disgusted. 
At the house, more commotion came along.
“Mother?” Ethel beamed. 
“I am, too, stunned,” Agnes watched her daughter with eyes wide as saucers. 
“I can explain the whole story,” Ethel tried to calm her down, but Agnes looked as if she was gonna burst with rage. 
“Why is Agnes even here?” Tilda whispered to Toucan.
“Parental consent is required for a minor to set up a dragon train flight, obviously,” Toucan said aloud rather than whispering. Meanwhile, Ethel tried explaining what had happened with her, enduring Agnes’s frequent interruptions. 
“Tilda! Are you even gonna help me out here? You’re completely throwing me under the dragon train!” Ethel boomed. 
“Speaking of dragon trains...I still need your signature, Anges,” Toucan handed her the same piece of paper. She also handed her a micro mason bottle of ink. 
“Where is my daughter planning to fly?” Agnes let out a long, deep breath.
“Pantala. Specifically on Tsetse Hive property,” Toucan shook the paper, still demanding the signature with an impatient look in her eyes.
“PANTALA?” Anges shouted. “You are without a doubt, one hundred percent, not going to Pantala!” Agnes thundered.
“I need to go there!”
“No, you don’t!”
“You don’t understand! My friend is stranded there and I need to save him! His name’s Ivory!” Ethel almost cried, her face red and splotchy. 
“Ivory? Your b-boyfriend?” Agnes stuttered. “Toucan showed me the newspapers.”
“He’s not my boyfriend! He’s my friend! But I need to retrieve him!” 
“Well...fine. But that doesn’t mean I’m not coming with you,” Agnes snarled.
This is backfiring really hard.
	Those two will be at each other’s throats the entire time.
	What to do, what to do…
	Aha!
	“Okay. The trip is May 12th,” Tilda said slyly.
“I thought it was May 11th,” Toucan read through her paper for the date.
“Nope! May 12th,” Ethel said, playing along with Tilda’s strategy. She snatched the paper from Toucan so she couldn’t find out they were lying.
“Um, alright. I’ll tell Boris that I misheard you!” Toucan scampered off to her office to write a letter to Boris.
“I’ll be at the port in four days then. And, after the trip, you’re going home to your father, Ethereal,” Agnes said, still furious.
“Hey, thanks,” Ethel sighed with relief. 
“It’s no problem,” Tilda replied.
***
May 11th.
	Leaving today…
	Seeing Ivory!
Tilda woke up, with stronger jitters than ever before. 
She had woken up at six 'o'clock in the morning just so she and Ethel could get a head start on their trip. After all, they wanted to meet up with Ivory again as soon as possible.
It was misty, blue, and cold outside. It felt as if they were in an abandoned town; all the shops were closed and there were no dragonets playing on the streets.
“I’m on food duty,” Ethel declared, packing cans of scallops.
Ethel and Tilda flipped the door right open, and started for the port.
It wasn’t very crowded yet, since these RainWings aren’t as desperate to go to Pantala; they’re just traders.
Tilda immediately guessed who Boris was. He was a tall, slender RainWing with expensive jewelry, and he was holding a carry-on filled with water and food.
“What a show-off,” Ethel pointed to Boris.
“That’s the dragon train leader, so you better not say that out loud,” Tilda told her.
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.” 
“Welcome, everyone! We are leaving in forty-five minutes, so take your time to run home and grab a tunic because when travelling overseas, there will be storms. I repeat, there will be storms. So grab a tunic!” Boris called out.
“Do we have a tunic?” Ethel asked.
“I think so,” Tilda held a thumbs-up for Ethel.
“By the way, I have an assistant today, his name is Lloyd,” Boris hollered over the wind’s howl.
Approximately forty-five minutes later, there were twice the amount of dragons. Tilda stayed close to Ethel so she wouldn’t lose her.
Boris paced about loftily, making sure everyone was here. He mouthed out each number as he counted, and once he had confirmed that everything was in place, he went to the front of the flock and cleared his throat. 
Everything went silent, even a crow that had been cawing repeatedly. 
“I commence our trip to Pantala!” 
Every dragon started moving at once, coming aloft at once. It was almost impossible to keep up. Tilda had never joined - let alone planned out - a dragon train flight before.
Ethel was relaxed and knew what she was doing, since she’s been in a flock many times before to visit her mother.
Flying...we’re flying already?
	Tilda looked down. She saw the ocean. And she smelled it. A fresh aroma that tickled her nose.
The dragon train veered to the right, wingtips clashing with wingtips. 
As time passed, the sun was up, searing Tilda’s back with bright waves of light. 
Tilda thought it was odd that she felt so hot, though it was clear that she had just adapted to the cooler temperatures of the rainforest. 
***
Three days have passed since the flight began.
Six days since Tilda and Ethel planned the flight.
One more day, and Tilda will see Ivory.
“Storm,” A usually quiet Lloyd reported, signaling towards the location of the storm.
Tilda watched lighting flash in the low, dark clouds. She sensed fear, overwhelming fear.
The flock grew tighter together, and Tilda felt as if she couldn’t breathe.
Tighter.
Tighter.
Too tight.
Very tight, but very warm, too. And Tilda was glad she was in the heart of the flock and not the fringe, so that she’s safer.
Then, the rain came down.
It pounded onto the flock hard, like a hose on high pressure. The thunder echoed through Tilda’s skull. 
A chunk of land sat right beneath them, but they didn’t stop. Not yet.
Tilda wanted to stop and recollect. Ethel didn’t mind the weather, though.
“It’s gonna be worth it, Tilda. We just need to go a little bit further,” Ethel soothed.
Ethel was wrong. She only wanted to make Tilda feel better. It’s the middle of the day, and tomorrow is when they’re scheduled to arrive. Unless Boris has inaccurate calculations.
Which he doesn’t, anyway. He’s been guiding dragons for a little over twenty years now.
Finally, the dragon train landed for a break, as regulated by Boris.
The island they stopped on was smaller than the one Tilda hda seen down below earlier, but Tilda didn’t care. She could finally put her throbbing muscles to rest.
She also ate lunch, which was a porkchop cooked over a makeshift campfire that sat under a tree so it wouldn’t be set out by the rain. It had a smoky taste and a hint of thyme. After that, Tilda emptied a can of guava juice into her stomach.
“When do we have to fly again?” Tilda stuffed the now lightweight can into the pocket of her tunic.
“Two minutes,” Ethel checked her pocket watch.
“Two minutes? This break was so short!” Tilda stamped her foot on the coarse patch of dirt below in frustration.
“Well, you better get used to it,” Ethel said, licking the leftovers off her plate.
“I guess so,” Tilda left the safe harbor of the palm tree. She was drenched with rain once more.
“Ivory also complained about it. Well, it runs in the family!” Ethel laughed abruptly. Tilda let out a fake laugh.
***
The next day, the storm had blown over and now the only things left from it are driftwood from waterfront homes and numerous murky puddles.
“Pantala!” Lloyd yowled, pointing at the continent before them.
The entire flock cheered, and sped up. 
Tilda couldn’t see it, since there were so many dragons blocking her view. But she raised herself a bit, and saw the savannah, along with a tall hive that seemed to touch the edge of the sky.
“We’re here?” Tilda couldn’t believe that Ivory was finally on the same piece of land as her and Ethel. She really couldn't.
The traders went into Tsetse Hive, their products out and their negotiating skills polished. 
“The mental ward, right?” Ethel asked, settling down on the ground, stalks of thistle between her claws. She swatted a fly.
“Mhm,” Tilda thought back to the newspaper.
A building with a pearlescent finish under the sun stood proudly on their left. An observatory made of tinted glass sat at the top, overlooking the savannah. 
“I think it’s that building, over there,” Tilda turned towards the structure. 
“Let’s get in, maybe Ivory is still in there,” Ethel thought aloud.
***
“Well, that was a waste of time. He’s not there, and Sachar and Garret aren’t either. Now I’m starting to think they booked a hotel room,” Ethel supposed. 
Bluestar Hotel was right around the corner, so Ethel and Tilda checked inside.
No-one they knew was in there, so next.
Lion’s Main Hotel.
Same results as Bluestar Hotel.
Blackstone Hotel.
Nothing unlike the others.
After checking many different hotels, Tilda decided to give up, and so did Ethel. 
“How about we check into one of the hotels we visited?” Tilda said, noticing that the moon was already visible in the scarlet sky. 
“Sure,” Ethel waded through the thick rows of grass into Tsetse Hive again, yawning loudly. 
They went to Suncrest Hotel, where they were greeted by an elder at the front desk. 
“Hello, honey bunches, how can I help you?” The white-faced desk dragon with sagging cheeks asked politely. 
“Room for two,” Ethel held her palm out for ink and a ticket. 
“Precisely!” She handed the ticket over to Ethel. Most of the words were smeared and smudged. 
Ethel and Tilda wrote down their names and scuttled up the staircase. 
Tilda was just pushing the key into the hole when she heard a voice she had longed to hear. Her heart melted, right then and there.
“Tilda?” 
Tears spilled out of her eyes, even though she didn’t see him yet.
“Ivory?” 
Tilda still didn’t move.
It’s a lucid dream, Tilda. You must already be in bed, you're just hearing what you want to hear and seeing what you want to see. 
But Ivory was there. He was standing next to a surprised Sachar. No Garret, though.
“Ivory!” Tilda called out, running for him so she could hug him, though she expected for him to pulverize and for her to wake up.
But he didn't. 
Ethel came over to squeeze him, too.
“What about me, guys?” Sachar snickered. He ended up joining the hug that was already happening.
“How’d you know we were in Pantala?” Ivory asked, stroking the dragonet that was sitting on his shoulder.
“One if those dumb RainWing newspapers,” Tilda sniffled.
“We set up a dragon train here just to get to you,” Ethel chimed in.
“Wait...where’s Garret?” Tilda wondered.
“We didn’t wash up in the same place, it appears,” Sachar twined the tip of his tail between his claws in worry.
“But, on the bright side, look who hatched!” Ivory held up his little brother in the air for Tilda and Ethel to see.
“What should we name him?” Ethel brought up.
That’s right. A name. Did they give him a name yet?
“We actually need your help with that. So far, we thought about Palomino because of his tan scales. That’s how my mother named me; my scales are the color of animal bone, or ivory,” Ivory suggested.
“Palomino is perfect,” Tilda concluded. 
CHAPTER THREE
That night, Tilda had slept well for the first time in weeks.
Tomorrow, the traders, Ivory, Sachar, Palomino, Tilda, and Ethel would come home and live an ordinary life, with no more secrets and no more guilt and sorrow.
But the morning was nothing like Tilda had imagined.
A SandWing, with a belt bearing a harpoon gun and three grenades, appeared at the hotel. She wore a gold pendant with the shape of a cypress leaf carved into it.
“Ivory, Tilda, and that pesky lizard,” The anonymous SandWing spat, her eyes slits in her face as she watched them with an expression that looked as if she smelled something putrid.
“How do you know our names? Well, not Palomino’s name, but me and Tilda. How do you know us?” Ivory confronted.
“Well, I’m the leader of Morris’s gang, and you’re his children,” The SandWing tossed a scrunched-up cigarette over her shoulder, a trail of smoke following it as it fell.
“Yeah?” Tilda answered, her voice cracking. 
“Well, he’s in debt for forty copper ingots,” The SandWing informed. “And now that he’s dead, you need to pay off his debts, since, in gang life, the children inherit their parent’s role in the gang.”
“What about our mother, Georgia?” Ivory said.
“I couldn’t find her, so now it’s up to you.”
When everything was going right, this idiot showed up to crash our reunion? Plus, how does she expect me and Ivory to turn up with FORTY COPPER INGOTS? Tilda grinded her teeth, and curled up her fists.
“We’re not paying you anything. We don’t even know your name, and you know ours! That’s bonkers!” Tilda felt the urge to put a scar on that dragon’s smug face.
“It’s Regan. Also, if you’re gonna play feisty, I will too!” Regan snatched Palomino from Ivory’s talons, and placed him on her shoulder.
“You won’t get this...thing...back until you cover the cost!” Regan explained. Palomino reached out his small talons for Ivory.
“Give Palomino back! We’ll pay you!” Tilda shouted.
“I don’t trust you, so I’ll keep him until you actually do have the money,” Regan said crossly.
Tilda saw the flame burning in Ivory’s eye. He wanted Palomino back. And soon.
She didn’t know why he was this determined. Maybe it was because this is his last sibling other than Tilda. 
And Leo…whatever happened to Leo?
He ought to be with Georgia, if they were even alive to begin with. 
She felt sorry for them all of a sudden. They must be in the center of the war. Unless they’re dead, of course.
If Georgia and Leo are dead, then…
I might be an orphan. And so might be Palomino. He never got to see his parents.
	“Also, every one of you is staying with my gang so you don’t escape and never give the money, even when you want this sorry excuse for a creature,” Regan said, her wrath sweltering. 
Now there was absolutely nothing Tilda could do but come with Regan. But at least Palomino would be safe, as long as they got the money they needed.
***
The gang headquarters were filthy. The main deck wreaked a stale and uninviting smell. 
In the cafeteria, a small band of SandWings sat on bar stools eating shrimp bathed in a starchy tempura batter. They stared Agnes, who was escorting Tilda and her friends to where they would be staying. 
“This is your room. Make the most of it,” Agnes pushed them into a small room with springy mattresses and a bucket in the corner. The light above flickered a white light that would usually hang over an operation table at a hospital. Tilda noticed that Agnes had taken Palomino away. Anxiety stirred in her stomach.
What could she be doing with Palomino?
	“This room is smaller than half a broom closet, and that bucket in the corner? Who knows what it’s for!” Sachar complained, throwing his talons in the air, looking at the rusty pail. 
“Regan said to make the most of it, and that advice isn’t bad,” Tilda claimed. 
“What if we try brainstorming jobs? You know, to earn money?” Ethel recommended, sitting herself down on the bed. 
“We have to think of something that doesn't require years of experience of education, since we won’t last here that long. Nor will Palomino,” Ivory remarked, sitting down on the same bed as Ethel. 
“How about...a waiter at a cafe? That’s simple, right?” Sachar thought. Tilda noticed that he was just hungry. 
“Well, you do have a valid point,” Ivory shrugged. 
The four of them stormed out of the room, ready to earn the money they needed to free themselves and Palomino. 
“Regan, we are ready to earn the money to pay off debts,” Tilda nodded, her whole body stiff as wood. 
Regan grunted. “Where would that be?”
“A local cafe. We’ll be waiters and bartenders,” Ivory clarified. 
“Alright. But cut your hours short as possible so you can back in time for dinner, unless you’ll be living off the coffee and beer they stash in the deli cellars,” Regan hissed. 
***
In the cafe, it was a lot less stenchy and rancid as in the headquarters of Morris’s gang. Hedges sat in square wooden pots and magazines lay on the booth seats. It was a Saturday, so it was more packed that day.
“Hello,” Ethel greeted, flashing a grin at the HiveWing at the bar table, who was the owner of the shop.
“How can I help you...unattended teenagers?” The owner’s voice wandered off.
“We’re looking to be employed, actually,” Tilda raised her talon.
“Oh! You must be working hard to find something to put on your resume. I always appreciate children searching for extra credit,” The HiveWing smiled.
Tilda was just about to deny what the owner had guessed when she realised it wouldn’t be believable - and even if it was, the police would get involved - that they are paying off debts for Tilda and Ivory’s father, who once worked with a gang.
“Yes! Of course,” Tilda lied.
“I’m legally an adult!” Sachar yelped. 
“Oh, Then you’re not unsupervised! That’s good to know. I never like any ruckus around here,” The HiveWing wiped off some sweat with a green handkerchief. “Let’s get you kids hired.”
A quick interview came into play in the office. Most of the time, Tilda was just asking the owner to repeat the question because she kept gazing at the typewriters and books scattered around the room. An old orange analog clock caught Tilda’s attention, too. 
After the questionnaire blew over, they went to work. They were handed old aprons that were stained in several different areas. Tilda tried guessing what each one was from while the owner talked and talked and talked about customer satisfaction, earning tips, and pouring tea into a cup without spilling anything.
Ivory, Tilda, and Ethel were waiters, but Sachar was a co-desk dragon since there wasn’t any more room.
It was hours of:
“Steamed rice and broccoli!”
“Iced tea!
“Black coffee!”
“Dried mangoes with talon-crushed pecans!”
“Garlic toast!”
And the most interesting thing that happened was when some dragon stole a sugar packet and they had to ask them to give it back.
At the end of the day, sweat surfaced on Tilda’s forehead. She would be thrilled if she wasn’t so tired, because she could finally take off that apron. 
“How much did you guys earn?” Tilda panted.
“Two copper ingots. That was one hell of a day!” Ivory untied his apron at the same time as Tilda.
“Me and Sachar both earned the same amount,” Ethel threw down a towel after using it to wipe her face.
“We have to come here really often then,” Tilda sighed.
***
When the three came back to Regan’s headquarters, they were greeted by the sound of dragons hacking and coughing, and some dragons scribbling into scrolls for mission plans. Some dragons were eating.
“Oh...you’re back,” Regan said, sounding like she’s been agitated by something.
“Yes...we are,” Tilda tried not to look at her.
“It’s already the evening, head to your rooms and I’ll send you dinner,” Regan shooed them away.
In their room, Tilda fell onto her bed.
It’s like prison.
	Except we have to pay the guards.
	It’s so unfair…
	Things were just going up, when this “Regan” had to show up at our door asking for money.
	That night, Tilda heard a clatter.
Her eyes snapped open a split second after hearing it. She wasn’t in deep sleep, so she was more responsive to the noise. 
She scrambled out of bed to peek past the door.
I hope there’s no surveillance. I don’t want them to think I’m trying to escape…
	Tilda’s thoughts loafed off after hearing someone cursing just outside the door. She ran like the wind to her bed, where she propped herself up in a resting position.
The door clicked open and the ceiling light turned on, but Tilda remained in her sleeping act. 
“I better wake them up,” A female voice whispered. 
Tilda’s stomach curled into a mess of knots. Her heart seemed to want to jump out of her chest.
“Hey! Wake up!” The voice came closer, and a warm breath fell onto Tilda’s forehead.
Tilda emitted a groan as if she just woke up. 
“Who are you?”
“I’m April.” A LeafWing said. “Your father’s girlfriend.”
***
“Lemme get this straight. You’re April?” Ivory’s eyes widened. 
“I should wake up, this dream’s kinda weird,” Sachar yawned, wiping off the foamy drool on his mouth that had been there when he was asleep.
“Yes, I’m April. And um...you...I’m not a figment of imagination. I have come here to free you from this place,” April drawled. 
“It’s way too risky to escape,” Ethel replied in a disappointed tone.
“Then how did I manage to get out?” April pointed to herself.
“Wait, this happened to you, too?” Tilda asked.
“Yes. And it’s actually a scheme. They’re robbing you. Converting you to money-making machines,” April hissed.
“Even so, we would probably be told to make more money than initially wanted as a punishment if they catch us, so things will only go south for us,” Tilda retorted.
“But what if we do manage to escape? You would be able to go home,” April’s voice lightened.
Home.
	Home has been hit by war.
	Leo and Mother are probably dead, and we’re orphans, and we have absolutely nowhere to go.
Unless we stay in Ivory and Ethel’s house…
“Okay,” Tilda nodded.
“So let’s go! Let’s leave this sewer!” April said, beckoning for them to follow her. 
“Wait, Tilda, are you sure about this? She could be working for them!” Sachar yelped.
“She’s my father’s girlfriend, I think we can trust her,” Tilda dragged Sachar along, out the door.
***
A breath of fresh air.
They were outside in the heavy night air. The blades of savannah grass kicked against their feet in a lively manner.
How are we outside?
	No locks, no security guards…
	It’s almost too easy. Something’s off.
And just when the thoughts occurred to Tilda, a number of lights in the HQ turned on.
“Fire!” A faint voice called.
Spears and arrows shot out the windows, the sound of them whizzing through the air followed by glass cracking, shattering. Tilda ran, and didn’t even think to turn back. 
She was surprised to see that the rest did the same, as if on cue, and they raced for a tall cliff where they couldn't be reached. 
CHAPTER FOUR
Palomino…
	We’ll come back for you. I promise. Hang in there.
	Tilda’s stomach was wringing again. 
Maybe Palomino will be killed because they ran away. 
That’s a way worse punishment than an extension on debt.
The five of them crouched on a bed of soil just against the cliff. Pebbles occasionally landed on their heads. 
“I remember this cliff…,” April stroked the stone with one talon.
“How come?” Ethel asked hopefully.
“Past this stone is the cafeteria. This is a discreet LeafWing school disguised as a cliff. SilkWings were allowed in, but they had to keep their mouths shut about it,” April explained.
“Why put it here? And, why secret?” Ivory cocked his head.
“The forests are too dense for a big school with hundreds of dragonets, so we built on the more spacious HiveWing grounds. But because of the Tree Wars, we had to hide it. Hide it in plain sight,” April strided about, recalling her memories of the school.
“If you press your ear against the rock, you can hear the voices of students and teachers…,” April’s voice trailed off. She recalled more memories. Perhaps painful memories.
At the same time, Tilda did too. 
Bombs.
Tilda could hear bombs, bombs in her head.
Tilda! Come on, let’s go suntanning! Tilda’s old friends giggled, speeding off to a small sunlit room.
	Ogla, Troy, and Paris.
	I claim this spot! Troy plummeted onto a wide hammock, decorated with fronds from palm trees.
	I’m coming! Tilda chippered. She hopped onto a fluffy pillow.
 	Then bombs.
 	Lots of bombs.
	Back to back.
	What’s that sound? Paris somersaulted out of her position on a linen blanket.
 	Dragonets crying, shouting.
	Tilda ran down the hall, and saw a glimpse of a MudWing.
	MudWing...why’s there a MudWing? What about war segregation? Tilda had thought.
 	She turned away, ran away, tears pouring out of her eyes at the realization that dawned on her. War.
	Attention, all students. We are facing a war threat, please remain in your designated classrooms. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill, A voice said over the loudspeaker.
So many noises. Sirens, screaming, grenades being hurled to every door. 
That was another reason Tilda ran away.
Her closest friends had died on the day of the lockdown, which was two days before she left home. Paris, Troy, Ogla. All of them, no-one to spare. 
April and Tilda were thinking about the same thing. War at the school, flashbacks of losing some of the dragons they loved most.
“Hey, are you two okay?” Ivory tried waking up the two spaced-out dragons. 
Ivory didn’t lose any of his friends. He only had one, anyway. One that Tilda wasn’t very fond of.
Bullying.
Laughing…
That’s such a stupid earring! Boyce teased, pointing at the enchanted jewelry on Tilda’s ear. 
	That’s not nice! Say sorry right now! Ogla demanded, stepping in front of Tilda. 
	What? It is super dumb-looking. How do you not agree? Boyce replied, continuing to snicker. 
	I get it you’re Tilda’s brother’s friend, but that is still really mean! I said, say sorry! Ogla raised her voice at him. 
	Why should I say sorry for something that wasn’t my fault? She’s the one who wore that ugly thing to school, Boyce continued.
	Maybe it’s a family heirloom!
And if it’s not?
Well, I think it’s beautiful! And if you don’t, then don’t say anything rather than bully Tilda about it! Ogla finished by taking Tilda’s talon and storming off, every footstep echoing on the stone floor of the cave.
	Thanks for standing up to Boyce, Tilda blushed. 
I might’ve been a little loud. I tend to lose control of my temper sometimes…
“Do we hide in the school?” Sachar replaced Ogla’s voice with his.
“Yeah, we should. I bet they’re after us right now,” April peeked past Sachar, noticing a brigade of gang members hurtling towards the cliff.
“Come on, we have to hurry up,” April said, shoving away a tangle of vines to reveal an entrance to the school.
Inside, it was alive and working, every corner of the room springing with life. There was an administration desk piled up with certificates, documents, and files, and on one end of the room, a shelf of flowers in a grow bed swayed in the cold air from the vents. Dragonets swarmed the halls, trying to enroll and to find their classrooms. 
Tilda remembered her first day of school.
Okay, remember, Tilda - don’t talk to the NightWings unless you have no choice. They ought to rip your head off, Tilda’s father had told her before she went into the building. 
	Father, I think they’re nice, Tilda had said, her pouch in her talons. She put it on around her neck.
	Well, don’t come crying to me when one of them steals your crayon, Tilda’s father had joked, opening the door. Inside, the school flourished, just like in the one Tilda was in now. 
	I’ll come back at the end of the year to get you, Tilda’s father waved. Tilda wasn’t used to that. She was really nervous about attending a boarding school. But, she was eager to make friends. Even NightWing friends.
 	At lunch, Tilda saw a charcoal-colored dragon with silver scales scattered on her wings like stars. Tears were streaming down her face. 
	Oh no! Tilda had thought. She ran towards the NightWing dragonet. 
	Are you okay? Tilda had wiped a tear off the NightWing’s snout. 
	So unfair…, The dragonet mumbled. I’m just like anyone else. Why should I be discriminated against? 
Tilda knew what the dragonet was talking about. 
	It’s alright…, Tilda purred, stroking the NightWing’s back. I’m Tilda, by the way. What’s your name? 
Paris, The dragonet replied, her face clearing up. 
	That’s a pretty name. Hey, do you want to sit with me? I have veggie fritters, Tilda chuckled, helping Paris up.
 	And they have been friends since. They also met Troy and Ogla.
 	And they have all been friends since.
 	Until they were eight. Until the lockdown.
	No, no...please rewind. Rewind back to when I was inviting Paris to sit with me. Happy thoughts...happy thoughts…
	“Tilda! We’ve been standing here for five whole minutes and you didn’t say a word. Are you okay?” Ivory hollered at her.
Are you okay...are you okay...are you okay. 
	Are you okay? Tilda had asked Paris. So unfair… 
“TILDA!” Ethel squeaked. 
“I’m terribly sorry,” Tilda replied sincerely. April was with the receptionist, talking about staying a while.
“Stay temporarily? I’m sorry, but that option isn’t available. You either stay for a whole school year, or leave,” The receptionist shrugged. “I don’t make the rules, the faculty does.”
“Let them stay,” A SilkWing stepped out of a hall, holding the talon of a dragonet with no wings, but rather wingbuds. 
“Jermaine!” April exclaimed. She seemed to remember the SilkWing.
“Who’s Jermaine?” Tilda squawked. Did I really miss that much?
“Yeah, who’s Jermaine?” Sachar repeated. 
I guess I didn’t miss everything. Phew…
“I used to go to this very school with Jermaine,” April said, patting Jermaine’s shoulder.
“Oh,” Tilda and her friends said. 
“Is that your dragonet? If so, he’s adorable,” Tilda asked. Her serene emotions died away, remembering Palomino. 
Happy thoughts...happy thoughts…
“Yes, he’s mine!” Jermaine said, his chin up. “His name is Arlo.”
“That’s a nice name!” Ethel patted the dragonet’s head, pushing back his long pink antennae. 
“Anyway, you wanted to stay here? Well, the receptionist has an in with me. For, she’s my cousin!” Jermaine cackled.
“I can’t ever say no to Jermaine,” The receptionist dragon sighed. “And if you know these dragons, then you can let them stay. But don’t blame me if things go out of talon.”
The four of them walked reluctantly into a room labeled the Falcon Cabin. Inside, there were hammocks and desks and abstract paintings, which were splats of cerulean ink.
“Oh, newcomers!” A LeafWing clapped her talons triumphantly, her eyes glittering. 
She had the personality of a SilkWing, but she was a LeafWing.
“Hi,” Tilda waved. She wanted to enroll at that school, for it looked very nice. But, she had bigger things to deal with. 
She flopped down on an empty hammock, and so did the rest.
She looked at the ceiling. It was probably made of some kind of granite.
Palomino.
	No, no, no...happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. 
	Ivory, Sachar, and Ethel were telling the LeafWing how they’re not staying here for a whole school year and only for a night or so. Soon, their voices faded out and Tilda was fast asleep.
“Tilda!” The cheery LeafWing singsonged. Tilda’s cheeks sizzled in the sun, like chicken roasting over a fire.
Yeah, those SilkWings definitely dropped an influence on her.
	“Wait, you guys told her my name?” Tilda jumped out of her hammock to find herself falling to the ground.
“Mph!”
I...hate...hammocks. 
	“Yeah, we kinda told her everything,” Ivory helped Tilda up. 
I...hate...this...school. My rump hurts!
	“Well, Sachar did. You know him. Never stops talking,” Ethel added.
“Come on, let’s get breakfast!” The LeafWing ran off, and Tilda, Ivory, Sachar and Ethel followed her hurriedly. 
Breakfast was a platter of sauteed crab legs drizzled with a sweet sauce. Tilda washed it down with a swig of carrot juice.
Who drinks carrot juice? Oh yeah, these dragons do. Ugh. 
	“So, Keris, what’s next on the schedule?” Sachar asked. When he sipped the carrot juice, he didn’t look bothered that it was a beverage made of vegetables.
“You even know this LeafWing’s name?” Tilda sighed, facepalming.
“Well...we’re kind of, like, friends now,” Ethel tapped her claws together anxiously.
I guess there is no harm in being friends with Keris...she was welcoming dragons from another continent. 		
CHAPTER FIVE
“Well, I better go tug the receptionist about your stay time. After all, Jermaine can’t fool her forever,” Keris skipped away. 
“Once we’re out of this school, we can get Palomino and escape this wretched continent,” Tilda said to everyone, a strong will in her voice.
“Your stay has expired!” Keris hopped up and down. Tilda knew who she reminded her of.
Sunday. That four-year-old RainWing selling houses.
	Tilda wanted to stay just a tad bit longer. She had only woken up ten minutes ago, and she didn’t know if she was ready to fly overseas after gathering a batch of RainWings at Tsetse Hive. Also, Regan and her troops could be at their door as she thought those very things.
“Ung. Why now? I love this carrot juice!” Ethel complained, hitting her fist on the table.
Everyone is grinding my gears today. Or I’m just cranky. Well...maybe I have been through some stuff. But I have to think of Palomino. Regan might’ve busted his kneecaps by now, and I’m not taking action.
 	Well...if Regan has busted Palomino’s kneecaps...we do have to go. There’s no time for carrot juice or whining. 
	“Ethel, we have to go! Palomino needs us,” Tilda’s whole body felt tight and stiff. 
“Okay, we’ll go,” Ethel nodded, setting down her glass of carrot juice. 
***
“We have to sneak into the HQ,” Ivory said once they were outside, kneeling in the tender grass below them. Bees occasionally buzzed over their heads.
“I’m up for it,” Tilda claimed. 
“Same here!” Sachar raised a talon. 
“Looks like we have our volunteers. Me and Ethel will motion to you when the coast is clear or when dragons are coming, okay?” Ivory commanded, sending them off to the headquarters courtyard.
We’re coming for you, Palomino. 
Sachar checked all the windows to find the room where Palomino was kept prisoner.
“That’s him!” Sachar whispered, tapping on the thick glass. He was sleeping. Or so Tilda hoped. 
His face was pale and his claws were brittle. “It appears they aren’t taking good care of Palomino,” Tilda whispered back. The anxiety chewed on her from the inside like an infection. She could hardly hold the tears back.
She opened the floodgates, and the adrenaline was rushing through her veins. She tore open the door to the HQ with great force, but she was quiet. 
A parade of Regan’s dragons were crowding a hall nearby, so they had to be quick.
“The door is locked!” Sachar made a small gasp. He yanked at the door handle.
“Let me!” Tilda grunted. She took the door handle and pulled on it, too.
“I have an idea.”
Sachar breathed a cloud of fire onto the metal and kept blowing, the sheet of steel smoldering and melting.
“Hurry up…,” Tilda shook her fist.
The hole was soon big enough for them to barely squeeze through, and they were just in time because a SandWing had said, “Did you smell that? Something’s burning.”
They covered the hole in the door with a blanket they found in Palomino’s room.
“Palomino!” Tilda whisper-shouted. She set the dragonet on her shoulder.
“Let’s feed him, and fast. He looks in awful shape,” Sachar started for the hole in the door. 
The two of them both wriggled through the gash in the door and sped out of the HQ as fast as they could, but since the gangsters heard the smoke from the door, they inspected the scene and went straight to conclusions.
“It’s the prisoners!” One of the SandWings called out.
“Retreat!” Ivory mouthed from his spot next to Ethel by the cliff.
“You’re coming with us,” Regan emerged from the group of SandWings.
***
“They’re framing us, I swear!” Tilda shouted desperately at Queen Wasp.
Sachar, Ivory, Ethel, Tilda, and Palomino were at the HiveWing courtroom. They were framed for kidnapping Palomino, who Regan claimed was her son.	
“Nggg,” Sachar was in cuffs for trying to attack a HiveWing guard, and he was trying to get out of them.
“Tilda’s right! They were trying to use us to make money for them! And Palomino is our brother!” Ivory snapped. 
“Ngggg!” 
“Why should I listen to a bunch of kids?!” 
“NGGGG!”
“Stop with that infernal growling already!” Wasp hollered.
“They are sentenced to six months at the HiveWing dungeon, where they belong!” Wasp concluded, motioning for them to be escorted out of the room by a duo of HiveWings.
“If we catch you escaping, you’ll be executed. Just like Morris,” One of the guards threatened, making sure they saw the rope used for tying nooses that was hooked on his belt.
Tilda was stunned. So he was already executed.
It’s pointless now.
This whole thing...it was pointless?
We wouldn’t be in a dungeon for half a year if it wasn’t for me and Ivory’s curiosity.
The four of them were tossed into a cell. Cobwebs were sprawled across the floor and the only object inside was an old tin dish that used to contain water for the prisoner to drink.
“He was executed already…,” Tilda said aloud.
“Tilda…,” Ivory started.
“I can’t believe it. This whole trip - useless,” Tilda cried.
“Hey, if you hadn’t come on this trip, then me and garret would be dead!” Sachar soothed. 
“Well, Garret’s not alive anymore!” Tilda called out in distress.
“Well, I am,” Sachar said.
“But you’re a stranger! And my father was far from a stranger! And I could’ve saved him!” Tilda vented, leaning on the cold concrete walls. 
“Guys, Palomino isn’t with us. Nor is April,” Ethel said.
“Yeah, April, my could-be stepmother, abandoned us, and as for Palomino, he’s getting the torture he never deserved!” Tilda pouted.
Ivory crawled up to Tilda and put his wings around her. 
“I’m positive that Mother and Leo aren’t alive. But we are. We can escape this prison,” Ivory explained.
“And that’s the thing. We’re orphans. Orphans who are sad and cold on a dungeon floor,” Tilda sulked into her talons, each tear falling silently onto the blisters.
EPILOGUE
The water tasted bitter. The aftertaste was salty.
I’ll probably get sick, but whatever. It’s water, and my mouth has been chapped and sticky for longer than I can remember, Leo thought, his face scrunching up.
“Leo! I caught a deer!” Georgia said, pinning down a male deer, its horns trying to gore her.
“Good,” Leo smiled. He took a small wooden basket and filled it with the nasty but hydrating water.
Georgia put the deer over the flame to cook. 
Camp is going well, Leo stood proudly over the deceased deer and the basket of water. 
Then the thought came.
The thought was way more bitter than river water.
Ivory.
	Just one name. One name.
No. That’s not what you should be thinking about. Be glad that you’re alive and that you can escape this situation.
	Leo hopped into his fox pelt sleeping back. He cried silent tears. Silent tears that his mother didn’t hear while she roasted the deer.
Leo! Let’s go to the Grand Pine to chop some wood! Ivory had said one morning when they were three years old.
	In the forest, they found many blue jays and cardinals, along with a number of coyotes. Leo found a short tree.
	Look, Ivory! This one! Let’s chop it! Leo hopped up and down, pointing at it.
	No, Leo. That tree is too small. We need to let it live its whole life before we cut it down, Ivory said sweetly.
	Ivory...you were so kind. Even to evergreens, Leo recalled.
Oh...okay! Let’s find a bigger one, Leo replied, wandering away from the tree.
	Leo got up from his fox pelt sleeping bag.
“Where are you going? And why is your face so wet?” Georgia asked. 
“I’m going to the Grand Pine,” Leo said. “And that’s just from the river. After all, I have to stay clean, right?”
“Alright. But the sun is getting low, so hurry,” Georgia said, putting the deer meat across twigs to make a kabob.
Leo walked the forest floor, the dry, papery leaves crunching under his talons. A moth circled around him, its brown wings fluttering vigorously.
The tree.
He remembered it. It was bigger now.
The same boulder was next to it, and it had the same trail of moss climbing along its trunk. A ladybug buzzed off the wood, its bright red wing cases flicking.
Even if we never see each other again, I’ll always have this tree.						
Category:Fanfictions