“Marco,” Prince Jake said. “Chill. Let Ax tell his own story.”
I saw my human friends stiffen. Tobias flitted to a lower branch, drawing closer.
“Oh my God,” Cassie whispered. “That’s the big secret. That’s the shame the Andalites are hiding.”
“What?” Rachel asked. “What’s the big secret?”
“Seerow gave the Yeerks advanced technology, didn’t he?” Cassie asked.
I nodded.
For a while no one spoke. I knew what to expect. These humans had first seen Andalites as heroes. Then they had come to be suspicious. Now I had just confirmed their suspicions. Now they would see that Andalites were not the great saviors of the galaxy.
“Elfangor broke the law of Seerow’s Kindness, though, right?” Marco pointed out.
I saw Rachel make a small smile and shake her head. Marco rolled his eyes. He said, “Man, and I really was getting into disliking you, Ax.”
I was confused. I expected them to be furious. Instead they were each smiling.
Prince Jake nodded. “Yes, we understand, Ax. A long time ago someone tried to be nice and it was a disaster. This Seerow person tried to be a good guy. He hoped all the different people of the galaxy would get along. That we’d all go to the stars together.”
“Ax, you don’t stop hoping just because it doesn’t always work out,” Cassie said. “You get more careful. You get wiser, maybe. But you keep hoping.”
“Look, Ax,” Prince Jake said, “we don’t want you to give us any Andalite technology. We don’t want you to break your laws. We just want you to trust us. Tell us the truth. Be one of us.”
“You aren’t alone, Ax,” Cassie said softly. “Maybe we aren’t your people, but we are your friends.”
“Your boy Seerow wasn’t wrong,” Marco said. “He just helped out the wrong species. We aren’t the Yeerks. We’re Homo sapiens, jack. Humans. Andalites want someone to cruise the stars with them? We’re the ones. You bring the spaceships. We’ll bring the Raisinets and cinnamon buns.”
“No,” Prince Jake said. “Because whatever we learn, you’ll learn. We’ll do it together. Human and Andalite. Andalite and human.”
“Freedom,” Prince Jake said.
“Freedom,” Rachel said, nodding her head.
“Freedom,” said Marco and Cassie together.
For a few minutes, I said nothing. I guess I felt a little overwhelmed. Then, I realized something that made me laugh.
“What?” Rachel asked.
“The Andalites on your home world may not like that idea,” Rachel said.
“Are you with us?” Prince Jake asked.
“Don’t call me ‘Prince.’”
“All right,” Marco said, rubbing his hands together. “Now that’s over with. And now that we are finally all leveling and telling the truth . . . I think we have one very big question for Ax. One huge question that will put our new friendship to the test. One gigantic question.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“How, how, HOW do you eat without a mouth?” Marco demanded.
I laughed.
“Morning ritual? What morning ritual?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah, tell us,” Cassie said.
I looked directly at Tobias as I said that. I met his fierce, intense hawk’s gaze. I wanted him to understand that I would answer his question as well. The question I knew must be burning inside him.
But the question never came. And I heard in my mind an echo of Tobias’s words.
Neither I, nor my shorm Tobias, is capable of smiling. But just the same, there are times when we look at each other, and understand each other, and smile.
You’ll do it because if you don’t, I’ll find a way to tell Visser Three who set him up,> I told Eslin, the Yeerk traitor.
I was in the observatory. We were alone, just the two of us. Eslin glared hatefully at me.
“Andalite scum. You couldn’t even kill the Visser. What’s the matter? Did he scare you too badly?”
It took several minutes for the Z-Space trans-mission to be established. And it took a few moments more before I was connected to the great Lirem again.
I said.
It was kind of nice to see old Lirem’s eyes go wide all of a sudden. See, he knew exactly who Alloran was. What he was.
Lirem’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
I laughed.
About the Author
K. A. Applegate’s ANIMORPHS series has sold millions of copies worldwide, and alerted the world to the presence of the Yeerks. She is also the author of the bestselling Remnants and Everworld series, Home of the Brave, and the Roscoe Riley Rules series.
Clay didn’t think he was the right dragon for a Big Heroic Destiny.
Oh, he wanted to be. He wanted to be the great MudWing savior of the dragon world, glorious and brave. He wanted to do all the wonderful things expected of him. He wanted to look at the world, figure out what was broken, and fix it.
But he wasn’t a natural-hatched hero. He had no legendary qualities at all. He liked sleeping more than studying, and he kept losing chickens in the caves during hunting practice because he was paying attention to his friends instead of watching for feathers.
He was all right at fighting. But “all right” wasn’t going to stop the war and save the dragon tribes. He needed to be extraordinary. He was the biggest dragonet, so he was supposed to be the scary, tough one. The minders wanted him to be terrifyingly dangerous.
Clay felt about as dangerous as cauliflower.
“Fight!” his attacker howled, flinging him across the cavern. Clay crashed into the rock wall and scrambled up again, trying to spread his mud-colored wings for balance. Red talons raked at his face and he ducked away. “Come on,” the red dragon snarled. “Stop holding back. Find the killer inside you and let it out.”
“I’m trying!” Clay said. “Maybe if we could stop and talk about it —”
She lunged for him again. “Feint to the left! Roll right! Use your fire!” Clay tried to duck under her wing to attack her from below, but of course he rolled the wrong way. One of her talons smashed him to the ground, and he yelped with pain.
“WHICH LEFT WAS THAT, USELESS?” Kestrel bellowed in his ear. “Are all MudWings this stupid? OR ARE YOU JUST DEAF?”
Well, if you keep that up, I will be soon, Clay thought. The SkyWing lifted her claws and he wriggled free.
“I don’t know about other MudWings,” he protested, licking his sore talons. “Obviously. But perhaps we could try fighting without all the shouting and see —” He stopped, hearing the familiar hiss that came before one of Kestrel’s fire attacks.
He threw his wings over his head, tucked his long neck in, and rolled into the maze of stalagmites that studded one corner of the cave. Flames blasted the rocks around him, singeing the tip of his tail.
“Coward!” the older dragon bellowed. She smashed one of the rock columns into a shower of sharp black pebbles. Clay covered his eyes and almost immediately felt her stamp down hard on his tail.
“OW!” he yelled. “You said stomping tails was cheating!” He seized the closest stalagmite between his claws and scrabbled up on top of it. From his perch near the roof, he glared down at his guardian.
“I’m your teacher,” Kestrel snarled. “Nothing I do is cheating. Get down here and fight like a SkyWing.”
But I’m NOT a SkyWing, Clay thought rebelliously. I’m a MudWing! I don’t like setting things on fire or flapping around in circles biting at dragon necks. His teeth still ached from Kestrel’s jewel-hard scales.
“Can’t I fight one of the others?” he asked. “I’m much better at that.” The other dragonets were his own size (nearly), and they didn’t cheat (well, most of the time). He actually liked fighting with them.
“Oh, yes? Which opponent would you prefer, the stunted SandWing or the lazy RainWing?” Kestrel said. “Because I’m sure you’ll get to choose out on the battlefield.” Her tail glowed like embers as she lashed it back and forth.
“Glory’s not lazy,” Clay said loyally. “She’s just not built for fighting, that’s all. Webs says there’s not much to fight about in the rain forest because the RainWings have all the food they want. He says that’s why they’ve stayed out of the war so far, because none of the rival queens want RainWings in their armies anyway. He says —”
“STOP YAMMERING AND GET DOWN HERE!” Kestrel roared. She reared up on her back legs and flared her wings so she suddenly looked three times bigger.
With a yelp of alarm, Clay tried to leap to the next stalagmite, but his wings unfurled too slowly and he smacked into the side of it instead. Sparks flew as his claws scraped down the jagged rock. He let out another yowl of pain as Kestrel snaked her head between the columns, seized his tail in her teeth, and yanked him out into the open.
Her talons closed around his neck as she hissed in his ear. “Where’s the violent little monster I saw when you hatched? That’s the dragon we need for the prophecy.”
“Gawp,” Clay squawked, clawing at her grip. He could feel the strange burn scars on her palms scraping against his scales.
This was how battle training with Kestrel always ended — with him unconscious and then sore or limping for days afterward. Fight back, he thought. Get mad! Do something! But although he was the biggest of the dragonets, they were still a year away from being full grown, and Kestrel towered over him.
He tried to summon some helpful violent rage, but all he could think was, It’ll be over soon, and then I can go have dinner.
So, not the most heroic train of thought.
Suddenly Kestrel let out a roar and dropped him. Fire blasted over Clay’s head as he hit the floor with a thud.
The red dragon whirled around. Behind her, panting defiantly, was the SeaWing dragonet, Tsunami. A red-gold scale was caught between her sharp white teeth. She spat it out and glared at their teacher.
“Stop picking on Clay,” Tsunami growled. “Or I’ll bite you again.” Her deep blue scales shimmered like cobalt glass in the torchlight. The gills in her long neck were pulsing like they always did when she was angry.
Kestrel sat back and flicked her tail around to examine the bite mark. She bared her teeth at Tsunami. “Aren’t you sweet. Protecting a dragon who tried to kill you while you were still an egg.”
“But luckily you big dragons were there to save our lives,” Tsunami said, “and we sure appreciate it, because now we get to hear about it all the time.” She marched around to stand between Clay and Kestrel.
Clay winced. He hated hearing this story. He didn’t understand it. He’d never want to hurt the other dragonets.
So why had he attacked their eggs during hatching? Did he really have a killer monster inside him somewhere?
The other minders, Webs and Dune, said he’d been ferocious when he hatched. They’d had to throw him in the river to protect the other eggs from him. Kestrel wanted him to find that monster and use it when he fought.
But he was afraid if he ever did, he would hate himself, and so would everyone else. Thinking about what he’d nearly done to his friends made him feel like all the fire had been sucked out of him.
He didn’t particularly want to be a violent angry monster, even if Kestrel thought that would be an improvement.
But maybe that was the only way to make the prophecy come true. Maybe that monster was his destiny.
“All right,” Kestrel said dismissively. “We’re finished here anyway. I’ll mark another failure in your scroll, MudWing.” She snorted a small flame into the air and swept out of the cave.
Clay flopped down on the floor as soon as her red tail had vanished from sight. It felt like every one
of his scales was stinging from the burns. “She’s going to be so mean to you during your training tomorrow,” he said to Tsunami.
“Oh, no,” the SeaWing dragonet gasped. “I’ve never seen Kestrel be mean before! That’ll be so unexpected and out of character!”
“Ow,” Clay groaned. “Don’t make me laugh. I think my ribs are broken.”
“Your ribs are not broken,” Tsunami said, poking him in the side with her nose. “Dragon bones are almost as hard as diamonds. You’re fine. Get up and jump in the river.”
“No!” Clay buried his head under his wing. “Too cold!”
“Jump in the river” was Tsunami’s solution for everything. Bored? Aching bones? Dry scales? Brain overstuffed with the history of the war? “Jump in the river!” she’d shout whenever any of the other dragonets complained. She certainly did not care that she was the only one who could breathe underwater or that most other dragon tribes hated getting wet.
Clay didn’t mind being wet, but he couldn’t stand being cold, and the underground river that flowed through their cave home was always freezing.
“Get in,” Tsunami ordered. She seized his tail between her front talons and started dragging him toward the river. “You’ll feel better.”
“I will not!” Clay shouted, clawing at the smooth stone floor. “I’ll feel colder! Stop it! Go away! Argh!” His protests went up in a cloud of bubbles as Tsunami dumped him in the icy water.
When he resurfaced, she was floating beside him, ducking her head and splashing water over her scales like a beautiful overgrown fish. Clay felt like a gawky brown blob next to her.
He sploshed into the shallows and lay down on a submerged rock ledge, with his head resting on the bank of the river. He wouldn’t admit it, but the burns and aches did feel better in the water. The current helped wash away the smoky rock dust caught between his dry scales.
Still too cold, though. Clay scratched at the rock below him. Why couldn’t there be just a little mud down here?
“Kestrel will be sorry one day, when I’m queen of the SeaWings,” Tsunami said, swimming up and down the narrow channel.
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