“Of course,” Fatespeaker said. “What?”
“Nothing,” Starflight said. “It’s just — I’ve been wondering, since no one ever sees her and apparently no one even hears her except Greatness … well, if she were dead, this would be a pretty clever plan, is all. As long as Greatness claims Battlewinner is alive, she can issue orders and do all the things a queen might do — in Battlewinner’s name — but no one can challenge her to try to take the throne.”
“That is way sneaky,” Fatespeaker said. “I would never have thought of that.”
“I could be wrong.” His nose bumped suddenly into stone. He stood up on his back talons and poked the low ceiling above their heads, then breathed out a plume of fire. The tunnel ended at a large boulder right in front of them.
Fatespeaker hissed. “No way! This has to be it!”
Starflight gingerly felt around to the back of the boulder and realized there was empty space under his claws. “The tunnel keeps going, only smaller, I think,” he said.
There was a hole in the wall, hidden by the boulder, barely big enough for a dragon to fit through. He reached his talons inside and guessed that the hidden tunnel led up in the right direction.
“Oooo,” Fatespeaker said, sniffing at the darkness. “I foresee that this is going to be mad scary. You go first.”
It felt like a volcano was about to explode out of Starflight’s chest. Well, if anyone does catch us, they can’t kill both of us. They need at least one of us alive.
He didn’t find that thought very reassuring as he climbed into the dark tunnel and felt sharp black rocks digging into his talons. The only thing that was oddly comforting was the sound of Fatespeaker clambering behind him, close enough to step on his tail a few times.
The tunnel sloped up and around in a kind of spiral. When a last twist suddenly left them standing in an open cave, they were both caught by surprise.
Starflight froze and Fatespeaker blundered into him.
This is it.
On one wall, the circle shape punctured with holes, looking out over the council chamber. On another wall, the screen that faced the throne room. And then there was a third wall with only a few carefully hidden eyeholes, for spying on something or someone or somewhere without being noticed.
But no queen.
There were no dragons here, no signs of life.
Where else could she be? Or am I right — is she dead after all?
In the center of the cave was an enormous cauldron full of lava, big enough for two Morrowseers. It looked like a jagged black bowl that had been yanked and pummeled out of the volcanic stone. Molten lava filled it to the brim, bubbling and spitting and gurgling weirdly. A few drops spattered over the side, and Starflight took a cautious step back, remembering the stinging burn on his foot.
The room was stiflingly hot, almost painfully so. Starflight slid around the cauldron, hugging the walls, to peer through the secret eyeholes across from the tunnel entrance. Fatespeaker followed him, uncharacteristically quiet.
Starflight didn’t recognize the room on the other side of the third wall, but he could see a low table, and the leftover bones of prey were strewn around the floor.
“I bet this is where the council members eat,” he said quietly to Fatespeaker. “It’s a good time to spy on dragons — when they might say anything, if they don’t realize she’s watching.” He glanced at the other two screens and shook his head. “Then again, it looks like she’s not doing much watching right now.” He leaned in to peer through at the dining cave again.
“Maybe you’re right about —” Fatespeaker started, then cut herself off with a cry of terror and seized Starflight’s shoulder at the same time, clutching him so hard he thought she might draw blood.
“Ow, what —” he began, then turned and saw what she saw.
A dragon was rising up out of the lava.