Sunny looked up at the two moons that were visible through the canopy, then back down at Kinkajou. “If he went, then I’m sure it was for a good reason. But if he didn’t choose to go — then he needs our help, right, Tsunami? Isn’t that the important thing? Shouldn’t we go get him right now, before something terrible happens to him?” She bent to examine the bandage on Kinkajou’s wing.
Yes, Starflight thought frantically. Please. Hurry.
“If it were up to me, the four of us would be there now, tearing that place apart,” Tsunami growled. “Instead of wasting our time here.”
“Combat training didn’t go well?” asked the other dragon.
Tsunami lashed her tail so hard she nearly fell off the branch. “General, may I take a nap? General, I need a papaya! General, my claws are tired! General, look, a butterfly! SOMEBODY IS GETTING STABBED IN THE FACE IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP.”
Sunny smothered a giggle.
“When does the queen want to attack?” The older dragon bared her teeth as though she was ready to go right now.
“Oh, look,” Sunny interrupted, touching her front talons lightly to Kinkajou’s head. “She’s waking up.”
No. Starflight saw Kinkajou’s eyes flutter. He reached out, holding the dreamvisitor, trying to send her back into dreamsleep, but it was too late.
With a wrenching sideways jolt, the rainforest — and Kinkajou and Tsunami and Sunny — was ripped away, and Starflight found himself lying on cold stone once again. The thick canvas lay heavy on his horns and the dim red light of the coals pulsed beyond it, making his eyes ache.
Sunny had been right there, inches from him.
So close, and yet she might as well have been on one of the moons.
He stared down at the dreamvisitor that glowed faintly in his talons. Seeing them had somehow been even worse than not seeing them.
My friends think I betrayed them — or if they don’t, they think it’s because I’m too much of a coward to do something like that.
He closed his eyes, feeling lonelier than he had ever felt in his life.
The blanket was ripped off Starflight’s head with such force that he tumbled onto the floor. His head spun for a moment, but his first thought was that he was glad he’d hidden the dreamvisitor well the night before.
“Up,” Morrowseer snarled. His breath was fiercely awful this morning. At least, Starflight assumed it was morning, although the sky was barely lighter than it had been the night before.
Flame and Ochre stood sullenly behind the giant NightWing, glaring at Starflight. He hoped they had had to spend the night in the dungeon.
Fatespeaker came bounding over to join them, followed more slowly by Viper and Squid. All around the dormitory, NightWing dragonets were poking their heads out of their blankets, watching. Fierceteeth looked openly envious; smoke rose from her snout and her tail twitched angrily.
Morrowseer didn’t even look at the other NightWing dragonets. “Let’s go,” he ordered. His tail nearly knocked Starflight over as he turned and swept out of the room.
“Where are we going?” Fatespeaker asked cheerfully. She seemed to have recovered from the news that either she or Starflight were slated for death.
“To see if it’s worth spending any more time on you,” said Morrowseer. “Certain dragons think we should lock you all up until we sort out our RainWing problem, but I think you need as much training as possible starting as soon as possible. So. Today we’ll have another test.”
“A test?” Starflight echoed, flapping his wings. “On what? We haven’t had time to study! Shouldn’t we review the material first?”
Morrowseer looked over his shoulder at Starflight. “Sometimes it is very hard not to bite you,” he growled.
Well, that’s hardly fair, Starflight thought, but he decided not to say anything else. Usually he was pretty good at tests. Maybe this was finally his chance to earn a place in the prophecy. Especially if it’s about history. I read all the history scrolls several times each.
He noticed that Flame was still glaring at him with resentful orange eyes. Carefully, Starflight maneuvered so that Fatespeaker was walking between him and the hostile SkyWing dragonet.
The six of them trailed after Morrowseer all the way to a roof of the fortress that faced the small island forest. Morrowseer spread his wings and narrowed his eyes at the sky, which was dark gray and flickered with faraway lightning. In the distance, the clouds seemed to be pouring down into the ocean. A storm out at sea, Starflight thought.
He shuddered, remembering the storm that had nearly flooded the cave in the Kingdom of the Sea. Clay had been chained to the wall, and Glory and Sunny had been so determined not to leave him. If Tsunami hadn’t come for them, they probably would have decided to drown along with Clay. Starflight wasn’t sure he’d have been able to do that. He’d been too scared to say anything, watching the water slowly rising toward them.
“Stay close to me,” Morrowseer growled. He jabbed Starflight in the neck with one claw. “Don’t try anything.”
And then he lifted into the sky without any more explanation or instructions.