He tilted his head at her. “No, not face-to-face, of course. She watches us through screens and speaks through her daughter, Greatness. It’s been like that as long as I’ve been alive anyway.”
Starflight’s scales prickled. What if the queen had screens like that all over the fortress? What if she was always watching her tribe without any of them realizing she was there? He looked around uneasily, thinking that the dungeon shadows could easily hide a few holes in the walls.
“We need to talk to her,” Fatespeaker said. “How can we find her? I’ve spent all night searching the whole moons-begotten fortress and I can’t figure out where she might be.”
“You have?” Starflight said, surprised.
“While you were sleeping,” she said. “I told you, I’m wide awake at night. I wanted to get started.”
“I’m the same way,” Deathbringer said to her. “Listen, it’s not safe to seek out the queen. She wouldn’t like it.”
“We don’t have to invade her magical privacy or whatever,” Fatespeaker said. “Does she have a throne room? Somewhere we could talk through the wall and probably find her?”
Deathbringer hesitated. “This isn’t a good idea. I don’t think she’ll help you.”
“I think she will,” Fatespeaker said. She pressed her front talons to her forehead dramatically. “I saw it — in a VISION!”
Deathbringer gave her an extremely odd look. “Really.”
“My visions are never wrong,” Fatespeaker said breezily. “Although, I wish they’d warn me about more useful things sometimes.” She glanced down at her claws, and Starflight guessed she was thinking of Squid.
“Well,” Deathbringer said slowly, “if you really want to try the throne room — it’s on the far side of the fortress from here, two doors past the library if you’re coming from the council chamber. But even if she’s behind that screen in the middle of the night, which she won’t be, she won’t speak to you without Greatness there.”
“She doesn’t have to speak,” Fatespeaker said passionately. “She has to listen.”
Deathbringer met Starflight’s eyes and then shrugged again. “Well, good luck. But hurry — it’ll be dawn soon.”
“How can you tell?” Starflight asked. There were no windows in the dungeon, nothing to mark the passage of time. Nothing but pockmarked black rock surrounded the prisoners.
“I can sense it,” Deathbringer said. “Spend a few months sleeping out in the open, and you’ll get the knack of it, too.”
“What were you doing on your own on the continent for so long?” Starflight asked.
“I had a list,” Deathbringer said. “And regular meetings to receive new orders. Did you ever notice that whenever one side appeared to be winning the war, one of their top generals would mysteriously die? Not that I’m taking credit for anything, of course.”
“I did notice that!” Starflight said. “At least, from what I could figure out from the newest history scrolls. But if that was you — well, it seemed to happen to all three sides, so I thought it had to be a coincidence.”
Deathbringer spread his wings. “We only chose a side recently.” He paused. “I was not consulted in that choice.”
“You don’t like Blister either,” Starflight realized.
“Starflight, we have to go,” Fatespeaker said, tugging on his tail. “I want to find the queen tonight. Before Morrowseer can do anything else awful. Come on.”
Starflight stepped back reluctantly. He felt as if he still had so many questions for Deathbringer — and this might be the first NightWing who would actually give him real answers. “I’ll come back,” he promised. “Soon. I’ll — I’ll see what I can do to help you.”
“Don’t get in trouble,” said Deathbringer. “I’ll be all right. Good luck.” He tipped his wings toward Fatespeaker.
Starflight wished he could do something. He should try to save Deathbringer the way the NightWing had saved Glory — both from assassination and from the prison caves. He should do something brave, something bold and kind and heroic. But he had no idea how to even begin.
Instead he followed Fatespeaker back into the fortress, back through the tunnels and hallways, in search of the throne room and the queen who might or might not be there, who might or might not listen, and who almost certainly would not help them.
“Two doors past the library,” Fatespeaker muttered. “Something about a council chamber.” She paused at an intersection, looking down both tunnels and pressing her claws together.
“I think I remember where the council chamber is,” Starflight said. He’d been trying to create a map of the fortress in his head every time they left the dormitory. “That way, if I’m right.” He pointed.
“Then we go this way,” she said. “I think we’ll pass the library this way.”
“Library,” Starflight echoed, finally hearing what Deathbringer had said. “There’s a library! Fatespeaker! Have you seen it? How many scrolls do they have?”
“Like a million,” she said.