If they show up, Sunny thought. She glanced at the night sky again. It certainly seems like every other dragon in Pyrrhia might be here.
And it was easier to see them than it should have been because of the mystery orb in the sky. It had gotten bigger and brighter every night, and now it was the same size as the other moons — two of which were full. Between the three of them filling the sky, it looked like another brightest night.
A new brightest night when there shouldn’t have been one for another ninety-four years, Sunny thought. If that’s not an omen, what is?
She hadn’t said that to her friends, though. She knew they’d roll their eyes at her and the whole idea of “destiny” or “omens.” But still, that third uncanny moon in the sky made her feel somehow a little more hopeful … like maybe things would be all right. The way she used to feel when she thought about the prophecy.
Sunny climbed up to the ridge overlooking the stronghold and stood between two cacti, gazing down at it. The long black structure, all shadows in the moonlight, was vast and forbidding even from a distance, and she still had nightmares about the weirdling tower. She couldn’t imagine stepping back inside there of her own free will.
But that was exactly what she was about to do.
The sound of shifting sand behind her signaled the arrival of her friends, and Sunny turned to see Clay, then Tsunami, then Starflight and Fatespeaker emerge from the tunnel.
Fatespeaker glanced around at the desert, at the way the sand seemed to run all the way to the edge of the sky. She shuddered. “This place is freaky,” she whispered. “Starflight, I don’t think it’s safe here. Shouldn’t you stay behind?”
Starflight shook his head. “No, I have to be here. I’m not missing this — even if I can’t see it.” He’d been practicing with Tamarin, the blind RainWing, all week. How to fly with someone guiding him; how to sense unexpected obstacles; and most of all, how to ask for help.
Sunny slid down the hill to them and brushed Starflight’s wing with hers to let him know she was there. He leaned toward her, touching the bandage on his eyes.
“What is that?” Fatespeaker asked, staring up at the sky. “Starflight, why is there a fourth moon?”
Sunny had already described it to him, although his explanation didn’t make all that much sense to her.
“I think it’s more like a comet than a moon,” Starflight said to Fatespeaker. “I remember a scroll that mentioned something like that in the sky hundreds of years ago. Maybe it circles around and only comes back every thousand years or so. Have you noticed the earthquakes? I think they might be caused by the comet.”
The ground trembled quietly under them, the way it had several times in the last few days. Sunny dug her claws into the sand, glancing up at the stars.
“But it’s not going to, like, land on us or anything, right?” Fatespeaker said. “Because it sure looks like it’s gotten bigger. I think maybe it’s going to fall on us. OOH, I THINK MAYBE I’M HAVING A VISION.”
“Stop that,” Starflight said, smacking her gently with his wing. “You know those powers aren’t real. Your visions are just your imagination.”
Fatespeaker shot him a very indignant look that he luckily couldn’t see. “I know that’s what Stonemover said, but I think it doesn’t apply to me. My visions are TOTALLY real, and when this moon-comet thing CRUSHES US ALL, everyone will be sorry for not listening to me.”
“All right,” he answered. “We’ll see.”
“Where’s Glory?” Tsunami asked, coming back from scouting the top of the dunes.
“Right behind us,” said Clay, and he jumped out of the way as more dragons started coming out of the tunnel.
It was strange to know that all these dragons were RainWings but to see instead SkyWings and NightWings and MudWings. Glory had decided to bring fifteen RainWings along — to be voices for peace, if necessary, and to be dangerous venom-spitting backup if really necessary. She’d decided it would be safer for her dragons if they came in disguise, their camouflage scales making them anonymous bystanders. Those three tribes were the easiest disguises — no poisonous tails, webbed talons, or serrated claws among them.
There were five actual NightWings as well, plus Deathbringer, who’d refused to stay behind and let Glory go without him.
“But you could be useful here,” Glory had argued back in the rainforest. “You could keep an eye on the NightWings for me.”
“I’d rather keep an eye on you,” he’d retorted. “And on all the dragons you’re about to go chat with who literally want to kill you.”
“Hey, that’s how you and I met,” Glory said. “Maybe I’ll charm them out of the idea, too.”