“Come on!” Sunny launched herself into the sky and heard the scramble of his claws behind her as he followed.
She aimed for the highest point of the palace that she could see: a spire with an open pavilion platform at the top. The corners of the roof were carved like dragon wings open in flight, and wind chimes on each side glittered and whispered in the faint breeze. In a few moments her claws touched down on white stone and she took a fluttering step for balance. Spread out before her, to the south of the stronghold, was the battle.
Sunny squinted, her eyes adjusting to the light of the rising sun as she searched for distinctive colors — perhaps the blues and greens of SeaWings, or the white and pale blue of IceWings, as Smolder expected — or perhaps the reds and oranges of loyal SkyWings come to rescue their queen.
But there was something strange about this battle. Sunny couldn’t see any unusual colors down there — nothing but the tan, pale yellow, and off-white scales of SandWings.
SandWings fighting SandWings.
Was it Blister’s army attacking? But it didn’t look like a whole invading force. In fact, if Sunny had to guess, she’d say there were only about thirty dragons attacking the stronghold, against about a hundred defenders.
And then she saw a flash of sunlight catch on a gold arm bracelet, and she leaned forward with a gasp.
That’s Thorn.
Now that she’d spotted her, it was unmistakable. The wiry, pale yellow dragon was deep in the thick of the fighting, slashing at SandWing soldiers with her talons and stabbing her tail as she rose into the air, then dropped below two warriors, then hurtled up to smash into another.
Sunny scanned the rest of the attackers and picked out Six-Claws, then Qibli, fighting as close to Thorn as they could.
This wasn’t another army, or one of the SandWing sisters. The stronghold was being attacked by the Outclaws.
My mother came to get me, Sunny thought, her scales humming with joy. Six-Claws must have told her the truth instead of the lie we came up with.
But then she took another look at the battle, and her heart sank.
Five SandWing soldiers lay dead on the sand, but the Outclaws were still outnumbered almost four to one. Smolder was shouting orders as he shoved soldiers into formations, tightening the defenses so a bristling wall of spears was ready to ram the scattered attacking dragons. One wave of SandWings piled into Six-Claws, who staggered back with a roar, losing height so his bloodied tail swept the sand below him. Sunny watched in horror as seven soldiers encircled Thorn, cutting her off from her allies.
The Outclaws came to rescue me — and it’s going to get them all killed.
Sunny paced from one end of the pavilion to the other, her heart pounding. Her eyes hurt from staring at the battle, as if she’d been trying to change the outcome with the power of her eyeballs.
Don’t die trying to rescue me. Please, please, please don’t die.
It was almost killing her to watch as her mother dodged flames and claws and deadly tails. A giant SandWing slammed into Thorn’s chest and tried to drive her down onto the sand. Thorn slashed at his snout and darted away. But another soldier attacked from behind her, stabbing his venomous tail down toward the center of her spine.
Sunny shrieked with fear, and the messenger behind her nearly fell off the spire.
“What?” he yelped. “What is it? Who’s dead?”
At the last moment, Qibli barreled into the soldier and knocked him away. Sunny wasn’t sure her mother had even noticed how close that had been. She’s not careful enough, Sunny thought anxiously, standing up on her back legs and flapping her wings.
“What’s happening?” the messenger said plaintively, craning to see around her.
“It’s my mother,” Sunny said. “She’s here to rescue me.”
The SandWing scrunched his snout at her. “Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like any mother I know.”
“Well, that’s just sad,” Sunny said, trying to listen to him and watch the battle at the same time. “Even your own mother?”
The other dragon made a noise that sounded half chuckle, half snort. “My parents sent me to Burn’s army to toughen me up. They said this way I’d end up as brave as a real soldier or else dead, and either of those would be an improvement.”
“What’s your name?” Sunny asked. Down below, in the battle, Six-Claws seized two soldiers and smashed their heads together, then whirled to slash another one’s throat with his tail.
The messenger hesitated. “Am I allowed to tell you that?”
“Why not? My name is Sunny.”
“I know,” he said. “All right. My name is Camel.”
Sunny flicked her wings open and shut, brushing against the wind chimes. Camel seemed like a normal, nervous dragon. Someone she could be friends with in another life. Maybe he’d listen to reason.
“Do you have any dragonets?” she asked.