“But you’re not — you’re not ordinary,” Sunny said, her voice full of tears. Starflight had never seen her so upset. He took a step toward her, reaching out with his wings, but she shoved him away. “What about the red MudWing egg? What about my egg, all alone in the desert?”
“There are scientific patterns to things like the appearance of blood eggs,” said Morrowseer. “We study them and use them in our prophecies to impress our less scientific inferiors. As for the SandWing egg, we planned to set that up, but as it happened, we got a tip that yours was there already. A coincidence.”
“No, it wasn’t, it — it was fate.” Sunny hiccupped.
“On the one talon, you are the worst,” Tsunami said to Morrowseer. “But on the other, Sunny, think about what this means. We can live our own lives. We don’t have to follow some plan that the stars laid out for us. We’re free.”
“But I want to stop the war!” Sunny cried. “All those dragons out there — they believe in the prophecy. They believe in us! If we give up, who will save them?”
“No one,” said Morrowseer. “Now there’s no point — the NightWings are already in the rainforest, so we have no reason to join the war. It’ll drag on endlessly, and more dragons will die every day, probably for generations. All of them wondering what happened to the amazing dragonets who were supposed to save them, but obviously failed.”
Sunny let out a furious sob, then whirled, pushed past Starflight, and fled up the tunnel, disappearing through the hole to the rainforest.
Morrowseer took a step as if to follow her, and Starflight jumped into his way.
“You can’t come to the rainforest with us,” he said, his voice shaking as badly as the earth below his claws.
Clay and Tsunami closed rank on either side of him. “He’s right,” Tsunami said. “Even if you pretended to swear allegiance to Glory, we’d know you were lying. At this point we wouldn’t trust you about anything.”
“You should go,” Clay said. “Fly across the sea, as fast as you can. Maybe you’ll make it before the volcano really explodes.”
“Not that we care,” Tsunami added.
Morrowseer’s expression was incredulous. “And who’s going to stop me? The three of you?”
“Yes,” Starflight said.
“And me,” said Fatespeaker’s voice from behind Starflight. He felt her tail brush against his as she slid up next to him.
The giant NightWing snorted, as if that only made things more amusing. “Here’s all the dragonets I want dead anyway,” he said. “In one convenient place.”
He opened his mouth, hissing up a fiery breath.
And then the volcano exploded.
It was like nothing Starflight had ever seen or imagined. It was like the earth turned inside out, collapsing the top of the mountain and shooting a vast, billowing cloud of flaming smoke into the air, which rose to the height of a hundred dragons and then fell, sending all that fire and rock and ash and death charging down the slope toward them faster than any dragon could fly.
“Run!” Starflight yelled, turning and shoving Fatespeaker in front of him. They tore down the tunnel with Tsunami right on his tail and Clay behind her. The heavy footsteps of Morrowseer thumped after them, but there was no time left to confront him.
Fatespeaker dove into the hole first. Starflight found himself turning and grabbing Tsunami, shoving her in next.
And so he was facing the cave entrance, and he saw the fireball come barreling at them, filling the tunnel wall to wall with bright orange flames. Morrowseer’s dark figure was silhouetted against the fire for a brief, horribly bright moment, and then suddenly the huge NightWing was gone, swallowed by the volcanic explosion.
A second later, Starflight’s scales were blasted with heat as if he’d fallen into lava. A stab of blazing agony went through both eyes, and he closed them with a howl of pain.
And then he felt wings wrap around him, and he realized it was Clay — Clay and his fireproof scales.
The MudWing lifted him, shielding him with his whole body, and shot into the tunnel.
Will the fire follow us? Starflight wondered dazedly. How does the animus magic work — will we cross over to the rainforest side halfway through and be safe or can it reach all the way —
Rain pattered down on his scales, sizzling softly, and he felt claws pull him from the tunnel and lie him down on wet moss. Cool wet leaves pressed against his face and he heard the murmur of hundreds of dragon voices against a background of rainforest night sounds, sloths chirruping, insects and frogs singing their night songs — and among the talons he was sure he felt Sunny’s. He felt the warmth of her scales that he’d know anywhere, even with his eyes closed (or … blind?), and he felt her press close to him for a moment and whisper … But why did it sound like Fatespeaker’s voice …? “Starflight. You were so brave.”
And then the warmth was gone, and he wondered if he’d imagined it, and then pain flared all along his body and he opened his mouth to scream but it hurt too much.
Something jabbed him in the neck and he had a moment to think, sleeping dart, what a good idea, and then everything, everything — the pain, the worry, Sunny and Fatespeaker, the truth about the prophecy, the fear of the volcano — everything faded away, and Starflight dropped into darkness as black as a NightWing’s scales.
Snow was falling, thick and fast, and the snowflakes spun across the icy ground in the freezing wind.
A SandWing stood huddled by the walls outside her fort, wrapped in blankets and trying to breathe fire into the air around her.
“P-p-please can’t we go inside?” she said to the tall white dragon beside her.
“No,” said Queen Glacier. “No one can be trusted with this information until we make a decision.” Her arctic-blue eyes regarded the IceWing guards who were positioned just out of hearing range, watching the skies for danger. Frost glittered along her wings and horns. The spikes at the end of her tail were as sharp and cold as icicles.
Blaze sighed. “You mean, until you make a decision.”
“Your input is always welcome,” Glacier said calmly. She knew there was no chance of the SandWing disagreeing with the IceWing queen.
“My neck hurts.” Blaze stamped her feet and poked the bandage on her neck. “Ow. Do you think it’s going to scar? I’ll be so mad if it scars.”
“You’re sure about what you heard?” Glacier asked her. “The NightWings have chosen to side with Blister, and they’re trying to force the dragonets to choose her as well?”
“That’s what it sounded like,” Blaze said. “But more important, that NightWing tried to kill me! You’re going to kill him, right?”
“We’re going to kill all of them, if we must,” said Glacier. “I have no objection to the idea of wiping out the NightWings. But we should consider what to do about the dragonets of the prophecy.”
“They seemed nice,” Blaze said, rubbing her talons together to warm them up. “Some of them were a little funny-looking. And I still don’t understand what that RainWing was doing with them. Besides, she was a little too pretty. I think it’s better to be just the right amount of pretty, don’t you? Too pretty is annoying.”
“Indeed,” said Glacier, barely listening. “We don’t want them telling anyone they’ve chosen Blister. It would be very demoralizing for our dragons.”
“But they can’t possibly choose her now that they’ve met me!” Blaze cried. “Now they know I’m wonderful and would make a great queen! They’ll definitely pick me.”
“Hmm,” Glacier said noncommittally. She didn’t have quite the same faith in Blaze’s persuasive abilities or dazzling charisma that Blaze did. Her own alliance with Blaze was based less on the SandWing’s potential queenliness and more on certain promises of future new territory for the IceWings.
“Well,” Glacier said, “just in case they’re leaning in another direction, I think we should make an effort to find these dragonets. I’d like to have a chat with them myself.”
/> “Fine, all right,” Blaze said, shivering violently. “I’ll tell you everything I know about what they looked like and what they said. But can we please do that inside?”
Glacier nodded thoughtfully and Blaze bolted for the door.
The IceWing queen was good at putting together clues and figuring things out. She would find those dragonets. And she really would start by talking to them — just to see which way they were inclined.
But of course, if it was the wrong way … well, a few dead dragonets here and there would hardly be noticed in a war like this.
* * *
A serpentine figure paced in the darkness, hissing softly.
Below her mountain ledge, in a hidden valley, hints of firelight flickered in windows, most of them covered with black curtains.
Blister narrowed her eyes at the scavenger den. Why did Morrowseer think she would care about a rat’s nest full of crawling, squeaking, pale, two-legged creatures? She wasn’t hungry. She didn’t even feel like burning down their pathetic little huts. She was too angry.
A whisper of wings on the wind made her twist around, tail poised to attack.
But it wasn’t an enemy, and it wasn’t Morrowseer. It was that spineless leader of the Talons of Peace, the SeaWing. And he had someone with him. She squinted as they landed.
“Forgive my lateness, Queen Blister,” Nautilus said with a bow.
“Where is Morrowseer?” she demanded.
“I — I don’t know,” he stammered. “I thought he would be here by now. I haven’t seen him since he took the alternate dragonets from the Talons of Peace camp. But I knew he was supposed to be here to meet you tonight, and I had to speak with him.” He squared his shoulders, obviously trying to look braver than he felt.
“Well, he’s not here,” Blister spat. “Who is that?”
Nautilus drew the dragonet forward, keeping one wing around him. It was another SeaWing, stunted and green and shivering.
“My son,” Nautilus said quietly, touching the dragonet’s head. “Squid. Morrowseer left him to die in the mountains, but, by a miracle, one of our spies found him first.” His eyes were cold and glittering in the light of the two moons that were full overhead.
“I hate NightWings,” Squid mumbled.
“I rather hate them, too,” Blister agreed. She’d always been irritated by this arrangement with Morrowseer — these meetings he called, at his choice of time and place, with no way for her to contact him in between. An alliance with the NightWings and control of the prophecy dragonets should make all this annoyance worthwhile … but so far she wasn’t getting any of what she’d been promised.
Worse yet, it almost seemed as if she was losing allies. Her small band of SandWings, hidden away safely in the Bay of a Thousand Scales, were loyal, of course. She controlled them with careful precision, knowing every move they made and every thought they had. She tricked them all into spying on one another by making each one think he or she was in an exclusive elite who reported secretly to her. And any hint of insubordination or weakness was instantly punished with death.
But the alliance she’d formed years ago with the SeaWings had slipped through her claws like ice melting. After the destruction of the Summer Palace, Queen Coral had fled with her tribe to their secret underwater home, and no one had seen her or any other SeaWings since. Blister had gone to the wrecked Summer Palace almost every day since the attack, but there were no messages, no dragons waiting to tell her what was happening, no apologetic scrolls from the SeaWing queen.
And if Morrowseer didn’t show up, then what would she do? She had no idea where the NightWing island was. No way to send him a message. In effect, no NightWing allies to speak of.
Maybe she did feel like setting a scavenger den on fire after all.
Nautilus sat with his wings wrapped around Squid, brooding. His glow-in-the-dark scales flashed dimly, as if he were telling his son something private, over and over again.
“If Morrowseer doesn’t show up,” Blister said, “I have a strong suspicion I know whose fault it is.”
The SeaWings both looked up, surprised.
“The dragonets,” she hissed. “Not this weakling. The originals. They’ve been nothing but trouble since they escaped their captors.”
Nautilus winced. “We called them ‘guardians,’” he said. “But you’re right. Everywhere the dragonets go, they seem to leave chaos behind.”
“Well, they’ve caused trouble for the wrong dragon,” Blister snarled. She glowered down at the slumbering scavenger den, her claws twitching with dreams of revenge. “Wherever they are, I will hunt them down. I will find them and then, prophecy or no prophecy … I’m going to kill them all.”
* * *
The sun was hot and blistering, beating down on the sand around the stronghold as the squadron of SandWings landed in the courtyard. The smell of the decapitated heads on the walls was stronger than usual. Burn inhaled deeply. She enjoyed the decaying scent, but mostly she enjoyed the unnerved looks on her soldiers’ faces every time she did that.
A dragon stepped out of the great hall, darting across the hot stones toward her. The black diamond patterns on his wings always reminded Burn of Blister, so it was difficult not to glare at her brother every time she saw him. But he was used to that.
“I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow,” Smolder said. His forked tongue flicked in and out.
She narrowed her eyes at him and waited.
After a moment, he remembered and added, “Your Majesty. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, Your Majesty.”
She didn’t appreciate the hint of sarcasm in his voice, but she wouldn’t point it out in front of her soldiers. She’d discuss it with him later, somewhere private, where she could dig her claws into his scales and get a truly sincere apology.
“How is our guest?” Burn asked, dismissing the soldiers with a flick of her tail.
“Still extraordinarily not pleased to be here,” he said. “You may want to move her to a … more empty chamber. She’s made a bit of a mess of what she could reach of your collection.”
Burn hissed. “Ungrateful cow.”
“Any word on the dragonets?” he asked, following her into the great hall.
“They’ve vanished again,” she said. “Although there’s a rumor going around the Sky Kingdom that they’re responsible for torching the northernmost outpost and killing all those SkyWing soldiers — as some kind of revenge for what Queen Scarlet did to them.”
Smolder folded his wings back and looked up at her. “Do you think that’s likely?”
“I don’t know anything about them,” she said. “In the arena, they didn’t seem fierce enough to kill anything. But then they attacked Scarlet, so they’re clearly more dangerous than they look.” She stopped at the long table loaded with food that ran down the center of the hall. “I do know I don’t like them,” she muttered. “And I wish I’d gotten my claws on all of their eggs before they hatched.” She snatched up a dead hawk and ripped off its head with one bite, imagining doing the same to a certain SeaWing, or that insidious RainWing.
“It’s not going well with Ruby?” Smolder asked.
“The supposed new queen of the SkyWings is a bore and a nuisance,” Burn snarled. “She wants to ‘restore order in the Sky Kingdom’ and ‘establish the stability of her own throne’ before engaging in any more battles at my side. She’s even more difficult than her annoying mother, and she follows orders very poorly, if at all. We haven’t had a satisfying battle in weeks. I’m considering getting rid of her.”
“Sounds frustrating.” Smolder slid a platter of dates toward himself and popped two in his mouth.
“It is. I really need to kill something. It’s been too long since I last ripped out a dragon’s throat.”
Her brother sidled a few steps away, perhaps thinking he was being surreptitious, but failing. “Well,” he said. “There’s always your prisoner.”
“No, no,” Burn corrected him. “Queen Scarle
t is our guest. For now. I may change my mind once I decide how useful she can be.” She glanced out at the blazing sun reflecting off the courtyard stones. “No, I have another victim in mind. Five of them, in fact.”
“Of course,” he said, ducking his head. “You just have to find them first.”
“Oh, I will,” she said. “Everyone will finally shut up about the wonderful ‘dragonets of destiny’ when I have their heads mounted on spikes on my walls.” She bared her teeth at her brother, smoke rising from her nostrils. “Mark my words. Soon we’ll put an end to this prophecy nonsense once and for all.”
Sunny thrashed furiously against the huge wings that wrapped around her.
“Quick, while they’re all distracted,” she heard a voice hiss. A shower of raindrops pattered down on Sunny’s head as the dragon holding her ducked through the leaves. It was hard to see much more than black scales, but Sunny realized she was being dragged into the forest, away from the tunnels and the crowd of dragons.
But I have to make sure Starflight is all right! She clawed at the arm that pinned her wings down, but the NightWing only grunted and held her tighter.
Wet leaves squelched and slithered under their talons. From the sounds around her, Sunny guessed there were three NightWings, including her attacker, sneaking away from the scene while everyone was focused on Starflight and Clay.
That’s … ominous. Maybe she should try to find out what they were up to. She stopped struggling and listened.
The dragons were moving fast and quietly, even without flying; in just a few heartbeats, Sunny couldn’t hear what Glory and Tsunami were shouting anymore. Her abductors also moved purposefully, as if they knew the forest well.
A hunting party, Sunny thought with a shiver. These are probably some of the dragons who came through the tunnel to kidnap RainWings.
What do they want with me?
“Here,” one of the dragons said after a while, and they all stopped. Even with Sunny’s excellent hearing, the dragons roaring behind them sounded like distant thunder muttering on the horizon. Rain poured down harder and harder, and the ever-present insect noises of the rainforest had gone into hiding.
Wings of Fire Book Four: The Dark Secret Page 22