Moon Rising

by Tui T. Sutherland

  She shook back her wings, waited for a moment when all was quiet on the landing ledge, and darted forward into the yawning mouth of the entrance cave.

  “Hello!” a voice accosted her loudly, while Moon’s eyes were still adjusting to the dimmer light inside. “Welcome to the Great Hall of Jade Mountain! Let me guess — you’re Moonwatcher, aren’t you? I’m tremendously good at guessing. In fact, one might even say I’m mysteriously good at it.” The welcoming dragon, whose scales were midnight black, lowered her voice. “Almost as though I’m … reading your mind, eh?”

  Moon stared at the NightWing in fright. Had she been discovered already? Before even saying a word? What will Mother say?

  “Just kidding,” said the older NightWing. “MAAAAYBE. I’m Fatespeaker. I’m not a teacher like the others; I’m just helping wherever I can. Here’s your welcome scroll and your map.” She thrust two scrolls into Moon’s talons. “Hey, look, you have silver scales next to your eyes just like I do! Yours are bigger and sparklier, though. It is Moonwatcher, right?”

  “Yes. Um. Moon.” Now she recognized this NightWing, which she should have been able to do from her first thought. She only knew two NightWings apart from her mother who didn’t radiate gloom and anxiety. Starflight had a more thoughtful energy, while Fatespeaker’s hopefulness poured out of her like overenthusiastic sunlight. Moon had seen the two of them from afar in the NightWing village several times, although they both had chosen to live with the RainWings instead.

  She glanced around, wondering hopefully if Starflight was nearby. He was the NightWing from the false prophecy, and he’d been blinded when the volcano exploded. Usually Fatespeaker was with him, guiding him — but not today.

  The enormous entrance cave looked as though it could fit four hundred dragons comfortably, with room for more to soar overhead. Sunlight poured in, illuminating the craggy walls and rippled ceiling, where cascades of golden-brown stalactites hung down, some of them reaching all the way to the floor to form twisted columns.

  Hanging against the back wall was a huge bronze gong with three flying dragons carved into it. A banner woven of green vines had been strung from one massive stalactite to another in the center of the cave, with letters spelled out in giant purple-and-white flowers: Welcome, students!

  Two tunnel openings yawned along the left wall of the cave; two more on the right. Next to each one, a map was posted showing where the tunnels went. The whole cave was busy with bustling dragons: families saying good-bye, friends saying hello, a few dragons carrying around prey or scrolls.

  But Moon didn’t see Sunny or Starflight anywhere, to her disappointment. Her mother was right; they had been kind to her, and Moon liked them. She particularly liked that, for the most part, their thoughts matched what they said and did.

  “Moon, Moon, Moon,” Fatespeaker muttered, rolling a scroll between her claws on the floor and scanning it closely. “Ah, here you are. Second tunnel on the left, fifth cave on the right.” She flicked her tail and grinned at Moon. “You’re going to love your clawmates.”

  Apparently I’m going to love all sorts of things, Moon thought, and then she noticed what Fatespeaker had said. “Clawmates?” she echoed. “What are those?”

  “The dragons you’re sharing a cave with,” Fatespeaker said brightly. Moon’s wings shivered involuntarily, all the way out to her wingtips. Sharing a cave? All the time?

  “Oooo, here come some IceWings!” Fatespeaker cried. “Want to stick around and meet them?”

  “N-no thanks,” Moon stammered. She hurried to the second tunnel on the left, and as she turned into it, she heard a whoosh of wings and felt a cold chill sweep through the cave. She peeked back around the corner and saw two haughty-looking ice dragons pace inside, frowning. No, she definitely did not want to meet them now or, in fact, ever.

  “Fifth cave on the right,” Moon murmured to herself, moving on. The tunnel wound in a curving shape, like a slithering tail, down into the mountain. Overhead, grass-green and butterfly-blue and hibiscus-yellow glass globes hung from a wire strung along the ceiling, each of them glowing with fire so the walls were lit with color. It didn’t feel like she was going underground; it felt more like the sunlit canopy of the rainforest.

  Moon had been picturing dark gray tunnels and cramped stone caves, but now that she thought about it, she realized Sunny wouldn’t have wanted her school to be anything like the gloomy caves under the mountain where the prophecy dragonets grew up.

  Soon the tunnel straightened out, and Moon could see small cave openings all along either side. This must be the corridor of sleeping caves; she could sense that some of them had two or three dragonets inside already. Each cave she passed seemed to be bristling with chatter and wings and claws and spiky thoughts that clamored for space in her head.

  Father said they have a library. I’m going to learn to read! Oh, I hope I’m not the only one who can’t read yet. That would be so embarrassing.

  What do they eat up in the mountains? We’d better get seagulls sometimes. And soon. Gosh, I’m hungry. Would anyone be mad at me if I went looking for seagulls?

  I wonder where the prophecy dragonets are. I wonder if they’ll notice me!

  So cold here. I miss the desert.

  They really expect me to share a cave with a RainWing?

  Moon scrunched her eyes shut, trying to hold back the headache. This was what it had been like when she first joined the NightWing village. After the peace and quiet of solitary life in the rainforest, all those voices in her head had been a horrible shock, especially when they were all so resentful and hostile.

  They still echoed in there, even though the NightWings were too far away now for her to actually hear them: It’s not fair; Secretkeeper should be punished; I bet she thinks she’s better than us; imagine getting to eat every day; that dragonet doesn’t know anything about our tribe or what we went through living on the volcano; how can she ever be one of us?

  She had a feeling — perhaps more of a wishful hope — that there should be a way to block out all the voices, but of course there was no one who could teach her how to do that.

  Mostly she’d dealt with the NightWing noise by escaping to the tallest tree or farthest waterfall, but where could she go here? She’d be stuck in classes, or trapped in a cave with her “clawmates.” Her brain would always be full of the din of other dragons.

  I’ll figure it out. I’ll make this work.

  Or I’ll run back to the rainforest and deal with Mother’s disappointment.

  Moon opened her eyes again and fixed her gaze on the fifth cave. She squeezed past a pair of chatting SandWings who were taking up most of the tunnel, and one of them stared at her intently with his obsidian-black eyes.

  NightWing flashed through his head. Thorn doesn’t like them; we just sent a couple back to Glory as her prisoners; we have no idea what they can do in battle yet, especially if it’s true they really have no powers after all. Needs further study. She’s kind of cool-looking, with those silver scales by her eyes. Seems nervous. Twitching her wings back to look smaller than she is. Up to something, or shy?

  Moon tried not to look back at him as she went by; she tried to seem unobtrusive and harmless and part of the shadows.

  Her sleeping cave had a few stalactites hanging over the doorway like jagged teeth. She ducked inside and found more fire-lit glass globes strung across the ceiling in here: one green, one a fiery red-gold, and one yellow. Two more globes, unlit, rested on ledges on either side of the door, and there was another at her level on the far side of the cave. She picked each one up and breathed a small flame onto the candles inside to set them alight, then surveyed the space nervously.

  It was nicer than she’d expected. The doorway made up one wall, and a sleeping spot had been arranged along each of the other three walls. One of these was a bare rock ledge, another was a pile of rainforest leaves and mosses, and the third was a woven green hammock ingeniously suspended from the roof.

  Moon hesitat
ed. It seemed as if the beds had been deliberately designed with different dragons in mind, but she wasn’t sure which one was meant for her. She knew which one she wanted … but how would someone else have guessed what she’d like?

  Maybe she should wait for her clawmates and see what they wanted. I wish I could have a private cave. Maybe if I asked Starflight really nicely …

  She noticed that there were also five mahogany scroll racks arranged around the cave, about the height of her foreleg, each polished until they were as smooth as her scales. There was an empty one next to each bed and one on either side of the door.

  She took a closer look and realized with a jump of happiness that the ones by the door were filled with scrolls. A little sign above these two said: Free reading — hope you like them!

  Moon slid her welcome scroll and her map scroll into one of the empty racks, then wrapped her tail around her back talons and started going through the scrolls by the door. It was a mix of all the kinds of things that interested her — history, adventure stories, ancient legends, encyclopedias of all the plants and animals in each tribe’s territory.

  Suddenly she remembered Starflight finding her with a scroll one day. He’d quizzed her on what she liked to read. If he chose these for me … he must have really been listening.

  She noticed that there weren’t any of the recent scrolls about the dragonets of the prophecy and their “Epic Quest to End the War of SandWing Succession.” She guessed with a smile that whoever had selected these (Starflight? Sunny? Glory?) found those particular scrolls rather embarrassing.

  She also found one early-reader scroll that must have been written for tiny dragonets, with giant letters and a guide to the alphabet. This seemed so out of place that she sat and puzzled over it for a minute.

  Is this for one of my clawmates? Am I going to be living with a one-year-old? Her mother had mentioned that the academy would take dragonets of various ages, so maybe it was possible, although it seemed weird.

  Out of nowhere, Moon felt a sudden burst of angry energy like a spear driving through her skull. She crumpled forward, clutching her head, as shouts and roars echoed in the hall.

  “Get your fish-smelling tail away from me —” I’ve faced bigger SeaWings than him in battle if he’s trying to start something!

  “Don’t you dare blow smoke in my face —” She could be one of the SkyWings who destroyed our Summer Palace!

  “Ow,” Moon whispered. “Ow. Ow. Ow.” The headache was so blistering, she considered running into the rock wall to knock herself out.

  And then, very softly, under all the yelling, she heard … Aha. There you are.

  Moon’s head snapped up, and she winced as another bolt of pain crackled through it. This voice — it was unlike anything she’d ever heard before. It sounded crisp and clear and right in her ear, as if it was talking to her.

  I am talking to you.

  Instinctive fear whipped through Moon’s veins, paralyzing her. All of her mother’s nightmare scenarios started playing again in her head: Don’t trust anyone new, don’t trust anything unusual, don’t let anyone know what you can do, stay secret, stay hidden, stay safe.

  Three moons, said the voice. Aren’t you a jumpy one.

  “Who are you?” Moon whispered.

  Who are you? it answered back, and then, as if the speaker had plucked the answer from her thoughts, Hello, Moonwatcher.

  Another telepath — how was that possible? Moon tried to push back. She imagined reaching out with her talons, trying to grab on to the voice and open up what was happening in the mind behind it.

  It’s as if you’ve had no training at all. The voice chuckled. How old are you? Again, the pause, and this time Moon thought furiously of as many different numbers as she could: 95! 76! 12!

  Four already and that’s all you can do?

  “Who are you?” Moon demanded. “How are you doing that?”

  You really have no idea, the voice mused with a hint of puzzlement. Hmmm. Fascinating. Let me think about that.

  She listened, pressing her temples to hold the headache at bay, but the voice didn’t come back.

  “Are you still there?” she whispered.

  No response.

  Did I imagine it? Maybe I imagined it. Maybe the headache and all the noise out there just confused me. Or maybe mind reading is finally driving me crazy. She shook her head and blinked. But if it was a real mind reader, maybe they could teach me how to use my powers.

  Or expose me to everyone, now that they know who I am, while I have no idea who they are.

  Moon drew her wings around her with an anxious shiver.

  “Hey now, hey there. Stop, stop, stop,” a real voice called in the hallway, interrupting the squabble.

  Clay! clamored several voices at once in Moon’s head. It’s him, it’s really him! Oooo, he’s even cuter in real life. Oooo, look at his heroic limp. Oooo, I think he looked at me!

  Moon poked her head out of her cave and saw the large sloping back of the prophecy MudWing. Clay was gently holding apart a writhing SeaWing and a hissing SkyWing.

  “It’s only the first day, folks,” he said genially. “Nothing to be so grumpy about already. You’re probably both just hungry. Carnelian, take a deep breath and see me later. Pike, walk with me.” He spread his wing over the SeaWing’s shoulder and firmly guided him away down the tunnel.

  The SkyWing watched them go with narrow eyes, growling to herself. Then, to Moon’s alarm, she swung around and marched right into Moon’s cave. Without saying a word, she threw herself onto the rock-ledge bed, folded her large scarlet wings forward over her eyes, and proceeded to stew in sullen silence.

  One of my clawmates, Moon realized. Yay.

  She blinked at the SkyWing for a moment, wondering if she should say something. Her heart was beating fast and the headache was still there, receding slowly toward the back of her skull. She cleared her throat, swallowed, opened her mouth … and then gave up and turned back to the scrolls.

  Several minutes later, a whirlwind burst into the cave, nearly trampling Moon with bright yellow talons.

  “Oh my gosh, sorry!” it yelped. “I didn’t even see you there! I guess that’s a NightWing skill, hiding in shadows, right, ha ha!” They put me in with a NIGHTWING? hollered her brain. Hello, isn’t anyone worried about my potential post-traumatic stress? But the little RainWing didn’t drop her enormous smile for a moment. Her scales, too, didn’t shift: They stayed a blindingly bright banana yellow dotted with splotches of alarming raspberry pink.

  She seized Moon’s front talons and pumped them cheerfully up and down.

  “Isn’t this exciting? I’m so excited I can hardly STAND IT. That’s why I’m this color, by the way. I have been trying all morning to turn myself something more dignified and I can’t do it; my scales are all like, YAY WE’RE REALLY HERE! and will not listen to me.”

  Moon noticed that there was one spot on the RainWing that wasn’t eye-meltingly colorful: a triangle of three small black smudges on her wing that looked like tiny splashes of ink.

  “I’m Kinkajou,” the RainWing added, beaming.

  “You’re noisy,” the SkyWing observed from under her wings.

  “I love this place,” Kinkajou said. She let go of Moon and bounced over to the hammock, while her thoughts went, essentially: Library! Art! Friends! “Have you explored at all yet? There’s the most amazing library — not that I can read yet, but oh my gosh, I’m working on it really hard. And an art cave! It’s full of all these colors of paint, like, like, like a couple of RainWings just EMOTED all over it! You guys, we should make amazing paintings and then decorate our cave with them. WOULDN’T THAT BE AMAZING?”

  “I might literally die of joy,” said the SkyWing flatly.

  “You look way healthier than most of the other NightWings,” Kinkajou said to Moon, evidently deciding to ignore the SkyWing for the moment. “Your scales are so shiny. I’d almost guess you were a RainWing in disguise, but you’re not, are you?�
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  “I didn’t grow up on the volcano,” Moon said softly. “My mother hid my egg in the rainforest.”

  “Oh!” Kinkajou said, and her brain went Aha! “I’ve heard of you. Wow, that’s a relief. That means you weren’t anywhere near the NightWings who locked me up. I mean, I’m all for amnesty and making friends across tribes and forgiving each other and everything, but seriously, it was scary there, like I thought I might actually die, and so I figured maybe I’d start by making friends with some other tribes first and gradually work my way back around to the NightWings, but you’re hardly a NightWing at all, so that’s OK, then.”

  Moon winced. “Hardly a NightWing at all” was essentially what she’d been hearing in the NightWings’ thoughts about her for months. It was a little brutal to hear someone just say it out loud.

  “So what’s your name?” Kinkajou asked.

  “Moon. I mean, Moonwatcher, but … just Moon, really.”

  “Sure, Moon. And who are you?” Kinkajou asked the SkyWing.

  I’m a warrior, the scarlet dragon thought bitterly, keeping her face hidden. A loyal soldier in Ruby’s army, who never did anything to deserve this … this punishment of schooling and being forced to live with Ditzy and Mumbles over there.

  Moon hunched her shoulders and looked down at her claws. That wasn’t fair. She did not mumble.

  Kinkajou turned back to Moon, her eyes sparkling. “Ooo, it’s a mystery!” she said. “We have to guess our third clawmate’s name! I’ll go first. I bet it’s … Squelch! What do you think, Squelch is a cute name, right?”

  Moon didn’t think she ought to smile, given the wave of outrage coming off the SkyWing. “Squelch is a MudWing name, isn’t it?” she pointed out.

  “True,” said Kinkajou. “Maybe her name is Friendly. That would suit her so well.”

  “That’s not a SkyWing name either,” Moon said. The red dragon’s tail was twitching dangerously.