“You heard Mastermind. Nobody sees the queen.” He shook his head. “It looked to me like she does everything through her daughter, Greatness.” Which was something else Starflight needed more time to think about. He suspected there was more to that story.
He wondered if he should try talking to Fatespeaker about the NightWings’ plan. Maybe she’d be willing to help him stop it — he knew she felt sorry for the trapped RainWings she’d seen. But no matter how sympathetic she was, would she be willing to betray her tribe?
There was no time to talk to her anyway. As soon as Morrowseer was gone, Starflight and Fatespeaker and Viper and Squid were swarmed by the NightWing dragonets who lived in the dormitory.
“Hello!” Fatespeaker chirped. “Hi! Hi! It’s so nice to meet you all!”
“Oh, so you’re the other one,” Fierceteeth said, sniffing her. “You don’t look that great either.”
“Look at all the colors!” Mindreader said, poking Squid’s green wings. “Shiny!”
“Don’t touch me!” he whined. “Viper! Make them stop!”
The SandWing ignored him. She brandished her tail until the NightWing dragonets got out of her way, then stormed to a sleeping spot at the farthest end of the dormitory and curled up on the stone.
Exhaustion was starting to overwhelm Starflight. He left Fatespeaker while she was introducing herself to everyone and lay down in the same place where he’d woken up a few hours before.
He missed his friends. He wanted to be eating boar with Clay, arguing with Tsunami, telling Glory about all his strange new discoveries and warning her about the NightWings. But mostly he missed Sunny. He missed her warm scales leaning against his, her green eyes watching him while he talked. He wanted to tell her about everything that had happened today — about the strange hunting habits of the NightWings, the terrifying council chamber, the mysterious behavior of the queen, and what he’d figured out about their secret plan.
He wanted to tell her all about his father.
And the alternate dragonets.
And …
His eyes closed, and sleep came for him.
Starflight was dreaming, but it wasn’t so much a dream as a memory.
He was waiting by the cave entrance when Webs rolled the boulder aside and came in. His wings unfurled and he leaned forward, trying to see the guardian’s claws.
“Just one this time,” Webs said, untangling a scroll from the net full of fish he was carrying. He tossed it to Starflight, who caught it and turned it reverently between his talons. It was damp around the edges and smelled like fish, but he didn’t care.
He carried it to the study cave and found Sunny curled in the small beam of sunlight that came through the hole in the roof. His heart skipped a beat as she opened her green eyes and smiled at him.
“A new scroll?” she said. “What’s this one about?”
He sat down next to her and unrolled it carefully. “It’s about us.” His eyes scanned the text quickly. “Oh, weird. This must have been written recently. It’s all theories about where we are and who might be part of the prophecy and how it might come true.”
Sunny sat up and peered over his shoulder, her warm golden scales pressing against his. “Wow, I’d like to know all that myself.”
“It says there were seventeen SeaWing dragonets who hatched on the brightest night, but only six of them were from blue eggs, and maybe it’s none of them because perhaps there were other SeaWing eggs outside the Kingdom of the Sea. Like children of the Talons of Peace, it says.”
“Or an egg that was stolen by the Talons,” Sunny pointed out.
“Right. It doesn’t mention that possibility.” Starflight went quiet, reading a little further.
“Does it say anything about the SandWing egg?” she asked nervously.
“The author seems confused about that.” Starflight rolled the scroll along, searching for references to SandWings. “He says if a SandWing dragonet hatched on its own in the desert somewhere, it couldn’t have survived. So it must be someone’s egg — maybe from the Talons of Peace again. That would explain ‘hidden away from the rival queens.’”
“I wish the guardians would tell us more about where our eggs came from,” Sunny said with a sigh.
“Maybe I should skip ahead to the part about stopping the war,” Starflight said, rolling the scroll through his talons.
“Good idea. We’re taking suggestions!” she joked. “Any war-stopping tips are welcome over here.”