Talons of Power

by Tui T. Sutherland

  Oh, Turtle realized with an awful twist in his heart. He’s crying.

  He did NOT know how to feel about that. Sympathy for Darkstalker … he couldn’t afford that, could he? Not if he wanted to stay strong enough to stop him.

  But this is the real Darkstalker. He’s not performing for anyone right now.

  He’s just … really sad.

  Turtle glanced around, wishing he knew what to do. Here, perhaps, was a dragon who could be reasoned with. Here was a dragon who might tell the truth, if he had the right audience to say it to.

  That idea, combined with the eerie experience outside the palace, led Turtle to a crazy thought.

  There was another kind of story Turtle used to read when he was younger.

  Ghost stories. Spirits of the dead coming back to haunt those who wronged them. Lost loves lingering around the ones who held their heart in life.

  Did Darkstalker believe in ghosts?

  Turtle backed cautiously away, scanning the ground for something he might be able to use. Darkstalker couldn’t see him or hear him as he moved around — but he’d be able to see something Turtle left behind.

  The moonlight glinted off something small and shiny, tucked in the hollow of a nearby tree. Turtle reached in, digging through the moss, and found a stash of beautiful marbles in different colors: blues and greens and silvery blacks. He glanced back at Darkstalker and chose a white marble with a sea-blue heart. It looked like a tiny moon, and he thought it would be the most visible in the dark grass.

  Is this stupid? Is this the stupidest thing I’ve ever done?

  He hesitated. But all he wanted to do was see how Darkstalker reacted, if at all; he’d still be as hidden as ever. He’d be careful. Darkstalker might just think he hadn’t noticed it before.

  He crept forward on trembling talons until he was almost under Darkstalker’s nose. He waited until the huge NightWing wiped his eyes and glanced up at the sky. In a flash, Turtle set the marble down an inch from those massive claws and backed away.

  Nothing happened for a moment; Darkstalker was still looking at the moons. But then he lowered his head again with a sigh — which caught in his throat when he saw the marble.

  He snatched it up in his claws and stared around the garden. His gaze passed right through Turtle, making Turtle feel like a skewered moth.

  “Clearsight?” Darkstalker whispered. He cleared his throat and tried again, a little stronger. “Clearsight?”

  The wind murmured through the shadows, scattering pine needles across Darkstalker’s wings and breathing evergreen air in Turtle’s direction.

  “Clearsight,” Darkstalker said, stepping out into the moonlight, “if you’re here, speak to me. Please, please speak to me.” He waited with an expression of such hope that Turtle was filled with guilt.

  “Then listen,” Darkstalker said after a while. “I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you. I forgive you. I know you were scared. I saw everything you were afraid of in that last moment when you — when you put the bracelet on me.” He hesitated, and his voice cracked as he added, “I’m sorry I put that spell on you.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his talons.

  What spell? Turtle wondered. What kind of dragon puts a spell on someone he loves?

  Then he remembered the love spell on Kinkajou and wanted to claw his own face off.

  “If you come back to me,” Darkstalker said sadly, softly, to the shadows, “I promise I’ll never enchant your mind again. I promise I’ll listen to you this time. We can choose the best future together.” He let out a small laugh. “I could use your help with what you’ve left me. A ruined city, a weak and broken tribe. You’d be their Queen Clearsight — doesn’t that sound all right now? When you can have the crown without anyone having to die? It was just waiting for us, Clearsight.”

  He started to pace. “You should have to help fix this. Do you see what you did when you betrayed me? It’s all gone — our tribe’s power, our kingdom. Our beautiful future. You did this to our whole tribe, not just to me.”

  Darkstalker’s breath was ragged, his jaw clenched, and his claws ripped at the plants and grass, killing everything in his wake. “Clearsight,” he said. “I — I keep looking at all my new possible futures. Millions of possibilities, but they’re all empty. They’re empty without you. I have no one, Clearsight. All I can see around me, as far as the future unrolls, are slaves and soldiers.”

  Turtle shivered involuntarily. Slaves and soldiers. Is that how he sees his own tribe?

  Darkstalker paused again for a long moment, and then said, so quietly that Turtle almost couldn’t hear him, “I know you can’t be out there. You’re not in any of my futures. But please, Clearsight — please come back and tell me there’s still hope for us.”

  The next pause lasted forever and another ten forevers. Turtle’s talons were starting to fall asleep, but he didn’t dare move while Darkstalker was still listening so intently.

  Finally Darkstalker lifted the marble up to glare at it, then clenched his fist shut around it. “I’m a sentimental idiot. You’re not here,” he muttered. “You could have been, if you’d waited another day or two. I would have made you immortal, Clearsight. We could have been together forever.” He turned to pace back and forth under the spreading pine branches.

  He is immortal, then. Turtle had suspected it, but now he knew for sure. Invulnerable scales, immortal life. The first spells that any young animus would think of. But no one would actually do them, between the cost to your soul and the unforeseen risks. At least, that’s what I always thought.

  “So what did you do instead?” Darkstalker hissed softly. “Did you go back to Fathom? Did you two laugh at the wonderful trick you played on me? Did you let him cast spells for you?” He clawed at his neck as though something sticky was clinging to it. “That sneaking serpent of a SeaWing. All high and mighty about protecting his soul and keeping his oath — until it comes to betraying his best friend. Then it’s sure, why not. It’s full speed ahead to sleeping spells and conniving and lies.”

  He stopped, his sides heaving. “No,” he said. “You loved me. I know that was true. Fathom talked you into doing this to me. He’s the traitor. He’s the one I’ll never forgive.”

  Darkstalker hurled the marble at the nearest tree with such force that the trunk split down the middle. Turtle had to scramble out of the way of falling branches, and when he was able to look up again, Darkstalker had vanished into the night sky.

  Moon was awake when Turtle got back. She was sitting on the beach, staring out to sea, tracing shapes in the sand without looking at what her claws were doing. A thin thread of light on the horizon hinted at the sunrise about to come, but the cold air smelled like rain.

  “Why aren’t you sleeping?” Turtle asked, landing beside her.

  She gave him a rueful look. “I never sleep well at night. In the rainforest, I mostly slept during the day, and I haven’t quite adjusted to a normal dragon schedule.” She hesitated. “Although Darkstalker says I’m the one who’s normal, and it’s the other NightWings who need to fix themselves to match.” Her tail flicked sand across the patterns she’d drawn. “And I had a nightmare. The nightmare. The one I always have.”

  “About Jade Mountain falling?”

  Moon nodded. “Fire and death and screaming and death. It’s not awesome.”

  “You can’t see anything about how to stop it?” Turtle asked. “Any clues?”

  “Like something we might find in ‘the lost city of night’?” Moon suggested with a sigh. “Not so far. Where have you been?”

  Turtle discovered that he didn’t want to tell her about what he’d seen — especially about Darkstalker’s crushing sadness. She already sympathized with him too much. She didn’t need more reasons to want to give Darkstalker a hug. She needed to see him as bad and dangerous so that she’d help Kinkajou when the time came for whatever heroics were necessary.

  “Just scouting out the NightWings,” he said evasively. “Ch
ecking on Anemone.” This was partly true; as he flew over them, he had peered down at the NightWings, their black scales blanketing the dunes and the beach where they slept. He’d spotted Anemone down by the ocean, sleeping as close to the sound and scent of the waves as she could get.

  “You’re a good brother,” Moon said.

  “No, I’m not!” he protested, and she looked startled at his vehemence. “Don’t say that. I’m a terrible brother.”

  “Great heavens, Turtle,” Moon said, blinking. “That’s not true at all. You’re following her to the ends of the continent, aren’t you? To make sure she’s all right?”

  I’m following Darkstalker. I know Anemone’s not all right. And that’s my fault, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  “Trust me,” he said. “I’m the worst brother a dragon could possibly have.”

  Moon studied him for a long moment with a faint frown on her face. “I had a vision about you once,” she said.

  “About me?” Turtle snorted. “Was I hiding at the bottom of the ocean? Because that’s what I see in most of my possible futures.”

  “No … I’m not sure whether to tell you about it,” she said. “It was a little scary.”

  Turtle dug one of his talons into the beach and let the sand fill in over it until it disappeared. With Darkstalker around, probably everyone had a scary future ahead. “I think you should tell me,” he said.

  “You were on a beach,” she said, her voice getting softer, nearly swallowed by the rush of the waves. “And you were attacking Anemone.”

  Turtle stared at her. “Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “You had her pinned down. That’s all I saw.”

  “Why are you just telling me now?” he asked.

  One of the crescent moons was reflected in her eyes. “I didn’t want to scare you. I was worried it might happen because you use your magic too much and lose your soul.”

  Turtle’s claws twitched as though they were reaching for someone’s throat. He tried to imagine them sinking into Anemone’s scales, drawing his sister’s blood. The screaming, battered NightWing flashed through his mind again, along with a whisper: You have violence in you.

  But that was different. I would never hurt my own sister.

  His claws curled inward as though they disagreed with him.

  “It might not come true,” Moon said. “Darkstalker says our visions are only the most probable futures — but things can always go in a different direction.”

  Turtle jumped to his feet, clenching and unclenching his talons. “I’m sure it won’t happen. I’m a bad brother, but not that terrible.” He didn’t want to think about this anymore. He didn’t need one more thing to worry about.

  Movement on the horizon caught his attention and he looked up to see black wings ascending into the sky. “They’re moving. I’ll get Kinkajou.” Turtle ran up the beach and poked his nose into the cave, nudging Kinkajou in the side.

  “Nnnnnnnnnnooooooooo,” Kinkajou mumbled from under her wings.

  “Time to go, Kinkajou,” he said.

  “Go awaaaaaaay, Bromeliad,” Kinkajou grumped in her sleep. “You smell like FISH and I don’t WANNA train today.”

  Turtle felt a stab of affection for her — for this grouchy, sleepy side of her he hadn’t seen before. She was so real and so kind and so present. She was the opposite of a terrifying vision of his future. “It’s me, Turtle,” he said, brushing one of his wings over hers. “Come on, Kinkajou, wake up.”

  “Turtle,” Kinkajou sighed dreamily, and clouds of light pink started drifting through her scales.

  Turtle pulled his wing back, feeling sick. So Anemone’s spell really was working. He knew this wasn’t how Kinkajou actually felt about him. She’d be so furious and embarrassed when she found out it was all magic.

  But I can’t tell her. What if it makes her so angry she takes off the skyfire? And then Darkstalker notices her and terrible things happen?

  Is this why I attack Anemone on some future beach? Because I’m angry with her about the spell on Kinkajou?

  “We have to go,” he said gruffly and whacked her with his tail.

  “Who’s that?” she yelped, leaping to her feet and turning red with stripes of pale green. “You want my venom, I’ll show you ven — oh, hi, Turtle.” She shook herself from head to tail. “Whoa, that was a weird dream. My old teacher turned into the NightWing who used to study us.” She shook herself again, harder. “Two of my least favorite dragons. Yeesh, anyone would think I’m worried about something.”

  “The NightWings are moving,” Turtle said. “We should get going, too.”

  “Oh, sure.” Kinkajou rubbed her face and then stretched, shifting her scales through a dazzling cascade of colors, from purple to aquamarine to saffron, where they settled. “Turtle, you’re looking at me as though I’ve been stabbed by a stalactite but haven’t noticed yet.”

  “Sorry,” he said, backing out of the cave quickly.

  They watched the NightWings gather in the sky like storm clouds until the tribe finally wheeled away west, and then Turtle, Moon, and Kinkajou lifted off and followed them.

  The landscape looked much the same in the light as it had the night before, and Turtle felt the same strange zap of energy as they flew over that spot in the hills.

  “Did you —” he asked his friends, just as Kinkajou yelped, “OW! What was THAT?”

  “I don’t know,” Moon said, glancing down. She fell silent, and Turtle wondered if she had seen the shapes of bones below them, too.

  They waited until all the NightWings had vanished over the peaks before flying after them. But as they came up and over the last mountain, they found a dragon waiting for them in the sky.

  Darkstalker.

  “Moon!” he cried with genuine delight. “I thought my visions were messing with me, but you did come after all!” He did a joyful flip in the air, spreading his wings toward the city. “Isn’t this amazing? Look at our beautiful kingdom!”

  “Oh wow,” Moon said faintly.

  In the gray sunlight, Turtle could see that the city was even larger and more ornate than he’d realized the night before — but he could also see more clearly how broken it was, and how time had eaten away at it. The rest of the tribe had swooped down into the ruins, diving through the canyons, exploring their new home.

  “That’s the Great Diamond down there,” Darkstalker said eagerly to Moon, pointing at the overgrown square. “On one side is the museum; over there is the school; and that building is the library. The library, Moon! I can’t wait to show it to you. It makes Starflight’s little cave at Jade Mountain look like a toad’s den. Although it’s not in the greatest shape now … but surely some of our scrolls must have survived.” He poked Moon with his tail, grinning. “I was hoping my visions were right and you’d come. This is great!”

  “I’m not staying,” Moon said quickly. “I’m going back to Jade Mountain. I just … wanted to see it.”

  “Me too!” Kinkajou volunteered, popping up behind Moon and waving at Darkstalker. “I’m here to see it, too! Moon’s best friend, remember?”

  “Yes, right,” Darkstalker said dismissively. “Well, sure, Moon, if you want to go back to Jade Mountain, that’s fine, but you might find that our school is much better and more perfect for you. After all, it’s where I went to school! We had classes in all kinds of things they’ll never get to at Jade Mountain. I just have to rebuild it a little, clean it up … find some decent teachers.” He frowned down at the scattered NightWings below him. “I suppose I could enchant some of them into becoming good teachers,” he said thoughtfully.

  “But … would your school be only for NightWings?” Moon asked. “Or would you invite students from other tribes, like Sunny did at Jade Mountain?”

  “Sunny is very sweet,” Darkstalker said, “but you saw how that turned out. It doesn’t work to throw tribes together and just hope they’ll get along, because they won’t — they can’t. Dragons
don’t work that way, no matter what tribe they’re from.”

  “I get along with dragons from other tribes!” Kinkajou objected. “Moon is my best friend! Our winglet is awesome!”

  “I kind of like meeting the other tribes,” Moon said to Darkstalker. “They’re not all like Icicle or Flame … or poor Sora.”

  “Well,” Darkstalker said, flicking his tail, “maybe one day you can organize an exchange program. But for now we need to focus on educating our own dragonets. We have a tribe to rebuild! There’s so much they need to learn. Perhaps once we’ve solved all the problems within our tribe, we can start thinking about reaching out to … other tribes. Anyway, let me give you a tour of the palace!” He tugged on one of Moon’s wings and flashed away.

  Moon gave Turtle and Kinkajou an apologetic look and went after him. They followed a few wingbeats behind.

  “He pays no attention to me at all!” Kinkajou grumbled. “It’s like I’m not even there!”

  “That’s good, Kinkajou,” Turtle reminded her. “You don’t want him to pay attention to you.”

  “I know,” she said with a sigh. “But I don’t like feeling as though I’ve disappeared. Like I’m not important enough to even look at.”

  “You’re very important,” Turtle said reassuringly. “You’re the hero of the story, remember? You have to fulfill Moon’s prophecy.”

  “That’s right!” she said, brightening. “We’re here! In the lost city of night!” She glanced around as though she expected a parade of cheering dragons to pop out of the mountain. “We did it! So … did it work? Is the world saved?” She poked his shoulder experimentally. “Does the world feel saved to you?”

  “Not even remotely,” Turtle admitted, watching Darkstalker and Moon land on one of the balconies of the palace.

  “Thaaaat’s the right attitude,” Kinkajou said.

  They swept down to land on the same balcony, carefully avoiding the parts of the balustrade that had caved in. Inside, Darkstalker was walking around what appeared to be a giant bedroom, eight times the size of any sleeping cave Turtle had ever been in.