“Um …” Starflight flipped through scrolls in his head as fast as he could. There were a few stories about dragonets in his favorite scroll, Tales of the NightWings. This couldn’t possibly work, but — “School project?” he tried.
To his astonishment, the guard completely relaxed. “Ah,” she said. “Assignment from Mastermind, right? That weirdo is all about ‘field studies’ and ‘live observation.’ Drives my daughter crazy. All right, go ahead, just be careful.”
Starflight bowed gratefully and fled toward the back of the cave.
The RainWing prisoner was chained to the floor and the wall, and his snout was wrapped in an iron band like the one Strongwings had put on Orchid. He watched Starflight with a resigned, mournful expression. His scales were gray and dark blue.
Starflight wondered if extra chains had been added to all the dragons after Glory and Kinkajou escaped; as far as he remembered, Glory had been muzzled but not chained to the wall. He was tempted to tell the sad RainWing that he would be rescued soon, too, but it was dangerous enough that he’d told Orchid. He had no idea whether RainWings could keep secrets, and if the NightWings found out that he’d been going around saying reassuring things to their prisoners … well, he couldn’t imagine they’d like it very much.
A commotion of wings sounded outside. Starflight turned to the back of the cave, which overlooked a huge, dark abyss. Glory had said that all the prison caves were connected by this chasm, which was how Kinkajou got from one to the other.
The last thing Starflight wanted to do was jump into that darkness. Well, no. The very last thing he wanted to do was face Flame and Viper in talon-to-talon combat, so, given those choices, leaping off a cliff into the pitch-black was the clear winner.
He spread his wings and hopped off the edge, flapping to lower himself down slowly. He kept thinking he was about to crash into something sharp and pointy, but only empty space yawned below him, as if it were trying to suck him down.
Finally, several dragon lengths down from the top, he felt a shallow ledge below him and gently rested his talons on it, folding his wings in. Even if someone peered into the chasm, his black scales should keep him well hidden in the shadows.
Voices started shouting up above.
“Where is he?” That sounded like Flame.
“Who are you?” roared the NightWing guard. “Intruders! A SkyWing! And a MudWing! They’ve come back for the rest of our prisoners!” She started banging on some kind of metal alarm gong that reverberated painfully off the rocks around Starflight.
He covered his ears, but even over all the noise he could still hear Flame bellowing, “No! We’re supposed to be here!”
And Ochre: “We’re with Morrowseer!”
“We’re trying to kill a NightWing dragonet!” Flame shouted. “Did you see where he went?”
Wow, that was the wrong thing to say, Starflight thought.
“THEY’RE HERE TO KILL OUR DRAGONETS!” shrieked the NightWing guard.
An almighty crash followed, as if she’d smashed the gong over Flame’s head. Starflight hoped she had. Every time he thought of the SkyWing’s smug face, he thought of how Flame was meant to take Glory’s place in the prophecy.
Morrowseer has been trying to have Glory killed since the first moment he saw her, he thought. Because she’s a RainWing, and he was afraid she’d figure out the plan and warn her tribe. It’s not that he thinks she’s weak and useless. He’s actually worried about what she might do.
As he should be.
The crashing and shouting finally ended with sounds of what appeared to be several guards arriving and carting off Flame and Ochre. Starflight hoped Viper and Squid had met a similar fate, maybe searching for him in the fortress. Just in case, he decided to stay hidden for a while longer.
I could try to escape, he thought. Now, while no one is watching me. I could try to get back to the rainforest to warn Glory and the others. I have an idea where the tunnel is … but surely it’s guarded, and surely they’d stop me, and even more surely, Morrowseer would be furious and most likely he’d kill me himself.
He closed his eyes, picturing the island. Or I could fly away across the ocean. Just pick a direction and go. He already knew he’d never be brave enough to try that. There was no way to know where the nearest land was, or how to find the mainland from here. This island had not been on any of the maps of Pyrrhia he’d ever seen, that was for sure.
Starflight wrapped his wings around his talons, rested his head against the rock wall behind him, and sighed.
“Starflight?” a voice whispered above him.
He froze. The shadows would hide him if he kept still.
“Starflight, it’s me, Fatespeaker,” she called softly. He realized her voice wasn’t coming from the cave he’d come through — she must be in the cave next to it, also overlooking the abyss.