Clearwing woke up with the smell of books in her nose.

She inhaled slowly, trying to calm her beating heart. She'd had the nightmares of Wasp stabbing Coal again. Except this time the terrifying queen had said something, just moments before stabbing him; "Welcome, Coal. Here to serve me at last?"

A shiver rippled its way through her wings, and Clearwing felt for the first time like she really was alone. She tried repeating her mantra to herself; The truth is out there. The truth is out there. The truth is out there. The truth is out there. It really didn't fit with her current situation, but it helped get her mind back in the swing of things.

She said it out loud, "The truth is out there."

Suddenly there was a yelp and a blur of tangerine-colored scales shooting past her. Clearwing sat up in a hurry and chased after the dragon, out of the book shop, and into the stalls spread out across the bottom level of the Glitterbazaar.

But the SilkWing noticed something strange; there were no HiveWings out amongst the wares today. Which she supposed was lucky; she had overslept, and if the bookstore owner had found a random SilkWing sleeping in the back, Clearsight knows what he'd have done. With another twinge of fear, Clearwing realized Wasp now had probably the entire HiveWing tribe chasing after Coal.

"Hey, wait!" Clearwing called after the yellow dragon, flapping her wings madly. "Who are you? My name is Clearwing!"

A door slammed shut, signaling that the dragon was hiding in one of the shops. And not one of the randomly set-up tents, but in a permanent stall, one with a door. Clearwing's eyes turned up, which was surprising. She spread her wings and flew into a jewelry store. Behind the counter was a door, and she opened it.

The first thing that struck Clearwing as odd was the fact that this room seemed to be where someone lived. There was a beautiful velvet couch, soft rugs on the floor, and a pile of blankets and pillows in the corner. But then her brain caught up with her eyes and she realized there were three HiveWings in this room; one the color of apricots, holding what looked like a very heavy wrist cuff in a sort of offensive way, one a metallic orange-red-gold and halfway hidden behind the couch, and the tangerine-colored dragon, who looked like she had just dove into the pillows.

"Oh," the HiveWing holding the piece of metal relaxed, and the wrist cuff fell to the floor with a muffled clank.

The dragon behind the couch peered out, then quickly sat up and leaned against it as though she hadn't been terrified at all. And finally the tangerine-colored dragon with black inkblots across her scales emerged from the cushions, adjusting her glasses with a somewhat puzzled expression.

"Who are you?" Clearwing asked again, her antennae twitching.

"I'm Cricket," the HiveWing with glasses said.

"Polistes," said the apricot-colored one, wrapping his wing around the smaller orange dragon. He had a strange-looking vest-type thing around his shoulders. It looked like it had been specifically designed for him, and it was made of twisting copper wires.

"Max," the last dragon said, rolling her eyes and pushing away from Polistes. Her metallic orange scales were rimmed with black, as though someone had taken a tiny paintbrush and delicately painted the edge of each individual scale. "Maxilla, technically. But call me that and I will poke out your eyeballs."

"Clearwing," Clearwing nodded politely.

"Cricket, you said that you saw a HiveWing," Polistes turned around, his wings buzzing in slight annoyance.

"I saw black scales and heard a voice and panicked," Cricket shrugged, clutching a small brown book in her talons. "Sorry."

"Actually, how does that work?" Max blinked at Clearwing. "SilkWings aren't supposed to have black scales."

"My wings aren't actually black. Just really, really, really dark purple. It's dark in here, so they look black. How come you aren't mind-controlled?" Clearwing asked, taking a step backwards. She regretted the words the moment they came out of her mouth — she could've just looked into their pasts to figure that out, instead of being nosy and maybe even making them believe she would reveal their secrets to the queen.

Polistes narrowed his eyes. "Why should we trust you not to tell the queen?" he said sceptically.

"I'm on the run from her, actually. But I don't think she knows I've escaped yet!" she added quickly as Polistes took a dangerous step towards her. "Honest, I never, ever, ever want to see her black-and-yellow face again." She thought of the queen's fathomless eyes, how she cared only about power, and how she was the Vine's puppet. The Vine was what Clearwing had begun calling it in her head. "And she wants to use my friend as a weapon." Something struck her like lightning.

"Cricket?" she asked.

"That's my name," Cricket replied. "Actually, I have a question. Or a lot of questions. One; why did Wasp imprison you in the first place? Two; How did you escape? Three; Clearwing is a really pretty name, it kind of sounds like Clearsight. Oh, wait, that isn't really a question, is it? Who's your friend, and why did the queen send her entire tribe after him? Oh, and-" Max hissed and Cricket snapped her mouth shut.

"Sorry," the dragonet said again.

"I rescued a bunch of flamesilks and the queen was mad at me. Especially since she only managed to capture a few back." Those poor dragons. But there's nothing I can do right now to help them. "My friend, Coal, managed to escape from his cell and Queen Wasp sent her Hive after him. I managed to break away from my guards and run across the silk bridge connecting Wasp Hive to Jewel Hive while everyone was distracted." She smiled at Cricket. "Thanks. No one's ever complimented my name before. And yeah, I guess it does sort of sound like Clearsight. And my friend is a GreyWing, some tribe of dragon that lives underneath the Hives. Wasp wants to use him as a weapon to wipe out the LeafWings, I think."

"Whoa," Max said.

"The LeafWings are still alive?" Polistes' snout screwed up in confusion. "I mean, I guess that would explain a couple things, but still."

Cricket looked like someone had just built a Hive just for her. And that Hive was filled with honey drops and books and rainbows and magic.

"Um," Clearwing took another step back, towards the door. "What does that face mean?"

"You're best friends with a dragon from a new tribe?" Cricket asked, her voice going up much higher than Clearwing though most voices should go.

"Yes?"

She was suddenly bombarded with too many questions to keep track of. Something like "What does he look like? What are his abilities? How did you free the flamesilks, did he help? What's his name; oh you said it was Coal, sorry. Is he artistic? Are you ever scared of him, because you said Wasp wanted to use him as a weapon, and weapons are usually scary. Did you say that the LeafWings are still alive? Where? Do you know where? What were you saying to yourself back in the book shop?" but much more elaborate and specific, and much too hard for Clearwing to remember for more than a few seconds before another question pushed its way into her brain.

Maxilla growled again, but it didn't stem the tide of questions.

"Cricket!" she roared, and the younger dragon screeched to a stop.

"What? Oh, that's a question."

"Yes," Max replied, buzzing her wings. "I told you that if you were going to hide with us when Wasp takes over everyone else, you had to promise not to ask so many questions.

"Well, I haven't really asked any since we met, which was last time I was here," Cricket replied. "And Clearwing has so many answers!"

"It's fine, honestly," Clearwing smiled awkwardly. "I don't mind the questions. I just wish you'd slow down." She froze suddenly. Polistes stiffened, his eyes trained on the door.

Sounds could be heard beyond it. Footsteps and talking and complaining.

"They're back," Max said, "So sorry about your friend, but get out." She pushed Clearwing out the door.

Clearwing realized that this meant one thing.

Coal had been caught.

And he belonged to Wasp now.