“She’s one of the dragonets in the prophecy,” he said triumphantly.
Every dragon in the tent seemed to sit up at once. A few leaped to their feet and slipped out the front entrance, Sunny noticed uneasily. Most of the others started whispering to each other. She caught snippets like, “why so small?” and “that’s why that soldier —” and “but her tail” and “no wonder Burn —” One dragon with a missing eye shifted closer to peer at her and Sunny tucked her tail closer around her talons, shivering.
“And we know where the others are,” Strongwings went on.
Fierceteeth smacked him in the snout with her tail. “Shut up!” she snarled.
All of Thorn’s burning energy was now fixed on Sunny. She took a step closer, then circled Sunny, inspecting her. Sunny tried to look brave and calm, even as Thorn picked up her harmless tail and flipped it curiously between her claws.
“Hmm,” said the leader of the Outclaws. “You’re a little unusual.”
“I know,” Sunny said. “It’s all right, though; I don’t mind. It’s just the way I hatched.”
“On the brightest night,” Thorn said. “Six years ago.” It was not exactly a question, but Sunny answered it anyway.
“Yes.”
Thorn walked around Sunny one more time, her talons sending up small clouds of sand between the gaps in the carpets, and then stopped beside her, frowning at the NightWings. “One more question for you cowardly lizards. Can you tell me anything about a NightWing named Stonemover?”
Strongwings snorted. “He took off six or seven years ago and no one’s heard from him since. The queen was furious.”
This answer didn’t seem to make Thorn any happier than anything else they’d said. She hissed quietly, then turned to Six-Claws.
“Put them somewhere unpleasant,” she ordered. “I’ll decide what to do with them later. You,” she said to Sunny, “come with me.”
They left on a tide of murmuring dragons. Sunny felt the same way she had when she was in that cage in the Sky Palace, hung up for everyone to stare at. She stayed close to Thorn’s tail.
The back wall turned out to divide the tent in two, and when they ducked through a flap, Sunny found herself in a smaller area with fewer rugs, where there were a couple of low black tables, a trunk packed with scrolls, and two startling pictures pinned to the walls.
Sunny gasped when she saw them.
One was Morrowseer, drawn in dark ink, glowering the way he always did. The paper was large and pockmarked with tiny holes. Like someone’s been throwing rather sharp things at it, Sunny thought.
The other picture was slightly smaller but had received the same treatment.
Staring out at her, looking much younger than she remembered him, was Dune.
Sunny touched the paper lightly with one claw. “Wow,” she said. He still has the scars, but he looks much healthier. This must be back when he was still getting the sun and heat a SandWing needs, before he went into hiding under the mountain to take care of us.
“You know him?” Thorn asked from behind one of the low tables. She sounded casual, but there was something ferociously intense in her eyes.
Sunny wondered how much to admit, but before she had to answer, the flaps rustled and the same dragonet from before shoved his way in. He was bigger than Sunny, but now that she could see him more clearly, she guessed he was perhaps a year younger. A dark amber earring glowed in one ear and a small, rakish scar zigzagged across his nose.
“Qibli,” Thorn warned. “This is a private discussion.”
“I’m not leaving you alone with no stranger,” Qibli said, shooting a look full of daggers at Sunny. “All prophecy-like or not.”
Thorn looked amused. “Your loyalty is charming, but I think I can handle this dragonet as well as you can.”
“It’s better to have backup,” he insisted. He twitched his tail forward to rest on the sand in front of him. “I promise I’ll be quiet.”
“Well, that I do have to see,” she said, rolling her eyes. “All right. You — what was your name?”
“Sunny.”
Thorn crossed to the trunk of scrolls, which sat on another sky-blue rug. Wiping her front talons on the fabric to shake off the sand, Thorn leaned in and picked up a sheaf of loose pages.
“Sunny,” she echoed. “Before you say anything else — you’re really not here for the reward?”
“I don’t know anything about a reward,” Sunny promised.
Qibli made a scornful noise. Without commenting, Thorn handed her one of the pages. The thick, yellowish paper crinkled stiffly between her claws.
REWARD REWARD REWARD
For any information leading to the whereabouts of two NightWings once seen around the Scorpion Den, known as Morrowseer and Stonemover.
For any information regarding the present location of a scarred SandWing named Dune, last seen frequenting the night market seven years ago.
For any dragonet hatched in the last six years with unusual features.
Come before Thorn at the Outclaw Pool with anything. Your safety guaranteed.
REWARD REWARD REWARD