“This way!” Deathbringer hurtled down the hall in a direction Starflight hadn’t been before.
A loud crash sounded from the direction of the council chamber, and Starflight thought he heard a dragon screaming. He shoved Splendor ahead of him. Even Glory was green now; neither RainWing could camouflage their scales while their fear was so strong. They all raced after Deathbringer, twisting through the fortress labyrinth, until up ahead they saw the sky — or at least, the dense cloud of ash and smoke that now surrounded the volcano.
“Try not to breathe,” Glory said to Splendor. “It’s not far to the tunnel.”
Starflight flung his wings open and leaped off the ledge, flapping furiously through the thick air. He could see the lava river glowing and churning below him, faster and wider than ever. He could also see a growing crowd of black dragons down on the beach, some of them fighting one another tooth and claw.
“We have to bring them to the rainforest,” he called to Glory, coughing and gasping. “Or else the whole NightWing tribe could be wiped out today.”
“Serves them right,” she called, but he could see from her face that she couldn’t let that happen either.
Chunks of fiery rocks were starting to shoot out of the volcano, blasting into the sky and slamming into the ground with explosive force. One came so close to Starflight’s wing that he felt the heat of it crackle along his scales.
Glory twisted in the air, scanning the caves below her. “I hope all my RainWings made it back safely.”
Starflight found himself making a decision that shocked him, but the words were out of his mouth before he could take them back. “You go ahead to the rainforest, make sure they’re all right, and prepare them for what’s coming,” he said. “I’ll gather the NightWings and bring them through.”
She gave him a surprised look, but didn’t argue. “We’ll have our spears and fangs and sleeping darts ready,” she said. “Come on, you two.” She flicked her tail at Deathbringer and Splendor, who sped after her. Starflight watched them all dive for the cave entrance, where green scales flashed as two half-camouflaged RainWings reached to welcome them in.
Now Starflight could see a cluster of spears bristling in the air by the cave, and he realized with a sinking sensation that the RainWings probably weren’t letting any NightWings through. He’d sent Fatespeaker and Greatness on that mission, but the RainWings didn’t know them — they’d barely met Fatespeaker — and had no reason to trust them.
They would listen to him, though. If he could convince the NightWings to accept Glory as their queen … if he could lead them into the rainforest peacefully …
But if he couldn’t …
There were a million things that could go wrong. The RainWings might panic and attack the NightWings as they came through, even with Glory standing over them. Or the NightWings might lie to get to safety and then attack the RainWings anyway.
Or the volcano might kill them all before they got anywhere.
Another blast from the volcano sent sharp rock shards zinging around him. Starflight felt a stabbing pain in his side as one of them grazed his scales.
No more time for worrying, he thought, tucking his wings and diving toward the beach. We escape now, together … or we all die.
It looked as though the entire tribe might be gathered on the beach below him. Starflight flew in a wide circle, scanning the crowd, until he saw Greatness and Fatespeaker standing on a boulder, waving their wings and trying to get everyone’s attention.
“They’ll never let us through!” shrieked a NightWing with long scratches along his side. “We have to take the rainforest by force!”
“We can’t fight them,” yelled another. “They infiltrated the island, took out all our guards, and escaped with the prisoners, and we never even knew they were here. They’ll kill us the moment we step into that tunnel.”
The volcano shot another blast of fiery rocks into the air, and many of the black dragons flung themselves to the ground with cries of terror.
“Listen to me!” Starflight called, hovering above Greatness. “There is a way to escape safely. I promise you that the RainWings will show you mercy if you accept Glory as your queen.”
“How can a RainWing lead our tribe?” shouted a voice that Starflight recognized as his sister’s. Fierceteeth flared her wings and shook her talons at him.
“Better than Queen Battlewinner can,” Starflight said. “Since she’s dead.”
Shocked silence fell over the tribe; all of them stared at him in disbelief. Starflight spotted Mastermind, hopping agitatedly from one foot to the other, with his arms full of scrolls. And finally Starflight saw Morrowseer at the back, glowering at him. The look on the giant dragon’s face gave Starflight chills from his wings to the tip of his tail.
“But Greatness …” one of the NightWings said half-heartedly.
“I’ve already agreed to this plan,” Greatness called. “It is the only way for our tribe to survive.”
“Glory will take care of you,” Starflight said firmly. “She will be a fair and just queen, and you’ll be safe in the rainforest instead of trapped here.”
The smoke had gotten so dense that it was getting hard to see the dragons in front of him. Fine gray ash coated all their scales and made the sand slick beneath their claws.
The volcano rumbled ominously.
“I’ll do it,” Mightyclaws said from the front of the crowd. “It has to be better than this.”
“How do we know they won’t kill us all?” asked another dragon.
“I trust her,” said Greatness.
“And guess what really will kill you all,” Fatespeaker added, pointing. “That volcano. So, come on, let’s get out of here! All hail Queen Glory!” She took to the sky, flying toward the tunnel.
“Queen Glory!” shouted Mightyclaws, leaping into the air.
“Queen Glory!” shouted another dragon, and then another and another.
Starflight hoped that Glory could hear them. This had to be the strangest thing that had ever happened to her: the tribe that was always supposed to be so superior, now bowing down to the most “useless” of the dragonets.
He darted ahead of them to the ledge and found that the RainWings were gone. In their place were Clay, Tsunami, and Sunny, and he felt himself breathe a little deeper when he saw them.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Tsunami said to Starflight as he landed beside her. “This is a terrible plan. NightWings can’t be trusted.”
“I think it’s brilliant,” Sunny said warmly. “I think you’re brilliant. I think it’s the best idea in the world.”
Starflight hadn’t even thought about what Sunny would think of his idea — for once. He gave her a shy smile, pleased that he had accidentally done something she was so excited about.
“We’d better hurry,” Clay said, glancing up at the mountain, which was spitting bright orange sparks into the sky. “Come on, quickly,” he called to the approaching NightWings, holding out his talons.
Mightyclaws was the first to land on the ledge. “Queen Glory!” he cried, charging past them down the tunnel. Starflight followed far enough to see the dragonet leap into the hole and disappear.
Greatness was next, moving just as fast. She paused briefly beside Starflight, her wings filling the tunnel, her eyes darting anxiously back toward the smoldering volcano. “I’m so glad I won’t ever have to be queen,” she whispered to him, then hurried off.
Escaping ahead of the rest of her tribe, Starflight thought, instead of waiting to make sure everyone else gets away safely. The NightWings should all be glad she won’t ever be their queen.
He stepped back as a flood of NightWings started coming through.
“To our new queen!” he heard a few of them cry.
“Queen Glory!”
“This is so wrong,” somebody muttered.
“Think of all the food!” said someone else.
“And the smell of the rainforest — have you been ther
e?” said another. “It’s amazing, like the air itself is full of water and light.”
“You’ll finally get to try a coconut,” one dragon said to another as they went by.
“Real trees,” a few of the dragonets were whispering to each other. “Real sunshine! Mangoes everyday!”
Starflight pushed back through the tide of black dragons until he reached his friends on the outer ledge. The sky was full of boiling dark clouds, and gray ash was raining down like snow. A new rivulet of lava had snaked out of the top of the volcano and was bubbling down one side. The earthquakes were coming in waves now and getting stronger, like a giant dragon stamping its way toward them across the ocean.
“We’re making all of them say ‘Queen Glory’ on their way past,” Tsunami said to Starflight, grabbing one NightWing’s tail. “Hey, you, speak up.”
“Queen Glory,” he grumbled, and Starflight recognized Strongwings, his father’s burly lab assistant.
“Once more, like you mean it,” Tsunami prodded. “Or you can discuss it with the volcano up there.”
The volcano obligingly growled.
“Queen Glory!” Strongwings blurted loudly.
“Better,” Tsunami said, letting him go.
Starflight was startled to see one brown dragon approaching in the middle of all the black, and for a moment he thought it was Clay — but Clay was right next to him. Then, with a huge stab of guilt, he remembered Ochre, who had gone off to hunt earlier that morning, which felt like weeks and weeks ago. I might have left him here. I didn’t even think to look for him.
“Uh, hey,” Ochre said, flapping onto the ledge and bobbing his head at Starflight. “So — I’m not sure what’s happening, but — it seems like everyone’s leaving? In kind of a hurry? And someone said something about bananas this way?”
“Just follow the others into the tunnel,” Starflight said. “We’ll explain everything later.”
“Sure, all right,” Ochre said. In a moment, he’d disappeared in the direction of the rainforest as well.
“Starflight, this dragon wanted to talk to you,” Clay said, tugging Starflight aside.
“Oh,” Starflight said, meeting his father’s eyes. “Clay, this is Mastermind. My — my father.”
The thin black dragon still had several scrolls clutched to his chest, and he was fidgeting with his claws anxiously. He tried to reach for Starflight’s talons, dropped a few scrolls, gathered them up again, and blurted, “It’s occurred to me, at this rather inopportune juncture, that our new hosts may very well, er — hate me. What do you think? Should I be concerned? Will they really let me live there? After everything? I’m afraid they might … have some grievances.”
Starflight sensed that his father wanted a reassuring lie, but he wasn’t about to give him one. “They probably do hate you,” he said. “I think they should, don’t you?”
“But,” Mastermind fretted, twisting a scroll between his claws. “But, but science — and my orders — and —”
“Don’t make excuses,” Starflight said. “When you get there, tell the queen you’re sorry and accept whatever punishment she gives you. That’s my advice.”
“Or don’t come at all,” Tsunami chimed in from behind him. “Take your chances on the ocean instead.” She nodded out to sea.
Mastermind flicked his tail with a worried expression, watching the NightWings pour past them into the cave, faster and faster as the volcano’s rumbles grew ever more ominous and closer together.
“I’ll apologize,” he said with a deep breath. “To our new queen,” he added.
“All right, go on,” Tsunami said, stepping back.
“Take this with you,” Starflight interjected, realizing he still had the map with all the scavenger dens on it. He tucked the folded paper in among the scrolls in his father’s arms, and Mastermind hurried into the tunnel with them all pressed to his chest.
“Just like you when we had to escape the mountain,” Sunny said, bumping Starflight’s side. “Trying to take all the scrolls.”
“I hope we don’t have anything else in common,” Starflight said with a flick of his tail.
“Don’t give up on him yet,” Sunny said. Starflight thought she must be the only dragon in the world who’d be willing to forgive what Mastermind had done.
“Guys,” Tsunami said quietly. “Look who the last NightWing is.”
Starflight turned, already knowing the answer.
The last few NightWings hurried by, blurting “The new queen! Queen Glory!” as they ducked into the tunnel. And then the four dragonets were left standing on the ledge, facing Morrowseer as he landed.
He loomed over them, terrifying and menacing and furious, looking exactly as he had when they first met him under the mountain, only a few weeks ago.
NightWings are superior to every other tribe, Starflight remembered him saying in their secret meeting. You have to act like a leader to be treated like one. Don’t let anyone see your weaknesses. Don’t have any weaknesses.
All his life, Starflight had often felt like he was nothing but weaknesses … but after everything he’d done today, he was starting to think maybe he wasn’t so useless after all, powers or no powers.
“This will never work,” Morrowseer growled down at them. “NightWings will never bow to a dragon from another tribe, least of all a RainWing. Once we’re safe, we’ll turn on you all.”
“Then you’ll end up back here,” Tsunami spat, waving her talons at the ash-covered, blackened landscape behind him. “Or dead. Either would be fine with me.”
“We made you,” Morrowseer snarled. “You dragonets are only important because of us, and we can destroy you just as easily.”
“No, you can’t,” Sunny spoke up. “We have a prophecy to fulfill, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening.”
Morrowseer barked a laugh. “Stop it?” he said. “I’ve been trying to make it happen for almost ten years.”
“Prophecies don’t work like that,” Sunny insisted. “You can’t make them happen the way you want. Whatever’s going to happen will happen — that’s the whole point of destiny.”
The volcano shot a plume of lava into the air and the ground shook hard enough that all the dragonets had to clutch the rock walls to stay upright.
“On the contrary, I certainly can make my prophecy happen however I want,” Morrowseer said silkily, “considering I’m the one who made it up in the first place.”
The earth began to shake without stopping, a continuous tremor that jarred Starflight’s teeth in his head and made him feel as though the ledge was about to drop out from under him. The volcano growled again, and another fountain of lava shot over the side and started slithering down the craggy slope.
Morrowseer’s face was lit by the orange glow of the volcano, cruelty etched into every line of his snout.
“You what?” Tsunami said.
The prophecy isn’t real. The words didn’t make sense in Starflight’s head. He couldn’t fit them into the way the world worked, the way his world had always worked. The Dragonet Prophecy isn’t real.
“That’s not true,” Sunny cried. “You’re just saying that to be awful.”
The volcano let out a roar like twenty dragons having their tails stepped on at once.
“Oh, it’s completely true,” Morrowseer growled. “Queen Battlewinner and I wrote it together after the last eruption destroyed part of the fortress. We knew we’d need a new home soon, and the prophecy was our plan to get it.”
“How?” Starflight asked, running the prophecy through his mind. “What does the prophecy have to do with where the NightWings live?”
“The idea was that we would control the dragonets,” Morrowseer said, “by including a NightWing, who, naturally, would be the leader of the group. Your abysmal failure in that department was our first problem. Then we’d choose a SandWing queen, and eventually the NightWings would join the war, with our strength in numbers tipping the balance so our ally would be sure t
o win.”
“And then your ally, whoever you picked, would help you take over the rainforest,” Starflight puzzled out. “It’s all about you, but not in a way that anyone would notice. Darkness will rise to bring the light — that’s the NightWings.”
“Exactly. The only really important part of the prophecy; we couldn’t be too obvious about it,” said Morrowseer. Behind him, dark smoke was pouring out of the volcano at an alarming rate. “The rest of it? Smoke and mirrors.”
“No!” Sunny almost shouted, making the rest of them jump. “The prophecy is real! We were born to end the fight — to end the war and save everyone!”
“Afraid not,” Morrowseer said nastily. “You’re just as ordinary as any other dragon.”
“Wow,” said Clay. “No wonder I’ve always felt ordinary.”
“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.”
Wings of Fire Book Four: The Dark Secret Page 21