“It can’t be,” said another.
For some reason, Flame, Viper, and Ochre all glanced at Starflight. But his power of speech had abandoned him. All he could think about was the cold spire where he’d been imprisoned by SkyWing guards just like these only a short time before. He wanted to cower behind the others’ wings the way Squid was doing.
Flame let out a small snort of fire and drew himself up as tall as he could get. “It is us,” he said. “From the prophecy.”
“The dragonets of destiny,” said one soldier in an awestruck voice.
“Wow, dragons actually call us that?” Viper said. “Lame. I hereby forbid anyone to use that phrase again.”
“Is that a roasted seagull?” Ochre asked, shoving his way forward and pointing at a half-eaten carcass on one of the tables. “Is anyone going to finish that?” Without waiting for an answer, he snatched the bird and sank his teeth into it.
Behind Starflight, Squid let out a small whimper.
A few of the SkyWings exchanged glances, looking a little more skeptical than they had a moment ago. Starflight could feel panic rising in his chest. He had to speak up; he had to be convincing. But his jaw felt like it was welded shut.
“Why are you here?” asked one of the soldiers. “After you escaped — why come back? To here, of all places?”
“And what did you do to the SeaWings?” asked another. “No attacks, no raids, no sign of them since we destroyed their Summer Palace. We know plenty of them must have survived, so where’s the counterattack?”
“Do you have Queen Scarlet?” demanded a dragon leaning on the wall by the fire. “What have you done with her?”
Flame waved his front talons as if none of these questions were important. “We’re here to tell you you’re supporting the wrong SandWing.” He tilted his head arrogantly. “Burn isn’t going to be queen. Like the prophecy says, she’s going to die. We’ve chosen Blister.”
The uproar was immediate. Several dragons sprang to their feet, knocking over tables and scattering bones and ashes everywhere.
“How dare you?” somebody shouted.
“We’re not taking orders from some puny dragonets!”
“We’ll never let the SeaWings win!”
One of the guards shoved Flame in the chest. “Traitor!” The red dragonet stumbled back, stepping on Starflight’s claws.
“Blister killed my brother!” roared another soldier. “She will never be queen. Her fate is to die beneath my talons!”
“We’re the dragons from the prophecy!” Viper yelled over the din. “You have to listen to us!”
“No, you’re not,” said the same authoritative voice Starflight had heard from outside. An orange dragon with a long, scarred neck stepped forward, peering intently at the dragonets. Starflight had a feeling he’d seen this SkyWing before — probably in the queen’s palace.
The other SkyWings quieted as the soldier reached around Starflight, seized Squid’s ear, and dragged him into the middle of the room. Squid yelped with pain, flung his wings over his head, and sat down, gibbering.
“That is not the SeaWing we captured before,” said the orange dragon contemptuously. “You saw the marks she left on the guards she fought with. And I do mean she. Also she was blue. This sniveling creature is no dragonet of destiny.” He looked around at the others, his eyes gleaming with suspicion. “I say we kill him. Perhaps we kill them all.”
“No!” Starflight blurted. “I am the NightWing the queen held prisoner. I swear I am. Remember she had me fight scavengers? And then the other NightWings came and took me?” He held his breath. Please believe me.
The dragon breathed a plume of smoke at him, then narrowed his eyes at Ochre, who had moved on to gnawing on a large leg bone he’d found on the floor.
“I suppose that could be the MudWing,” he muttered. “And we never saw the SandWing or the SkyWing.” He studied Flame and Viper. “We assumed the queen was holding them elsewhere in the palace, in case they could be fixed and allowed to rejoin us.” His gaze stopped on Flame. “But perhaps living with the Talons of Peace will ruin any dragon, even from the best of tribes.”
He jabbed Squid sharply with his tail, and the small green dragon moaned unhappily. “If you’re the NightWing from the palace,” he said to Starflight, “what happened to the SeaWing who was with you before?”
“She’s —” Starflight felt hopelessly stupid. Why hadn’t Morrowseer guessed this might happen? Did he think this outpost was so remote that no one from the palace would be here? But if he really wanted to replace Tsunami with Squid, he had to know someone would notice and object sooner or later.