As always, his first thought was of Sunny, and then the others flashed through his head: Tsunami, Clay, Glory …
And then he was falling, suddenly, through a bright, cloudless blue sky. He snapped his wings open, catching a rising wind, and looked up.
Above him, glimmering in the sun, were five shapes. He recognized Sunny immediately: her golden scales couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else’s. She was playing a looping game of chase with Clay, her quick agility outmaneuvering his giant wings, both of them laughing.
Tsunami and Glory circled them, calling out suggestions. Glory’s wings were dark purple, and she wore a small woven crown of iridescent ruby-red flowers.
And there was Starflight himself, flying along with the others and smiling like nothing could ever be wrong. He looked different here — bigger, kinder, warmer somehow. In fact, they all did. Tsunami and Glory rarely smiled so much in real life; Clay was almost never this fast or graceful.
Whose dream is this? he wondered, but it wasn’t hard to guess.
Sunny darted away from the others like a dragonfly and dropped toward him, beaming.
“Two of you in one dream!” she said happily. “How weird is that?” She flitted around him, brushed her wings against his, and then zipped back up to tug on Clay’s tail.
He couldn’t bring himself to speak. Being near her, it all came rushing back — how he’d loved her his whole life and how impossible the whole thing was, not least because they were from different tribes.
If he could make himself talk, if he could warn her about Tsunami, maybe she would listen.…
But the blue sky was abruptly swallowed in darkness, and he was falling again, until he was surrounded by bubbles and cool green light.
Underwater. This must be Tsunami’s dream.
He waved his wings and spun slowly in the water. Sure enough, there she was, with her claws wrapped around the neck of a skeletal green dragon.
Gill, Starflight remembered. Her father. The one she killed in the arena, before she knew who he was.
This was a nightmare. Her face was twisted in despair — she’d never hear him like this.
Her little sister, Anemone, came swimming up, and, seeing her, Tsunami suddenly released the older dragon. He fell back, his jaws opening and closing pitifully. Tsunami turned to Anemone with her talons outstretched, like she was apologizing.
But then Anemone’s eyes narrowed, and she lunged toward Gill, seizing his throat herself. Her tail smacked Tsunami aside as her talons sank into his neck. Thick blood bubbled out, staining the water.
Tsunami grabbed Anemone and tried to pull her away, but it was too late.
Starflight closed his eyes. He understood what Tsunami was worrying about: that Anemone would turn evil if she used her animus powers, and that there was nothing Tsunami could do to save her.
Just one more reason why we have to stop this war. If there was no war, there would be no one trying to force Anemone into using her powers. She’d be safe.
Crunch. Crunch crunch crunch.
Starflight opened his eyes again.
He was sitting in a vast, dry cave with torches flickering along the walls. The floor was nearly covered with all kinds of prey — boar, chickens, a cow, several ducks, two deer, and a hippo. Some of them were still alive, wandering around, bumping into walls, oblivious to the two dragons in the cave with them.
The other dragon was Clay, who sat with his tail curled around his back talons, happily munching on something charred.
“Oh, hey, Starflight,” he said, as if it were perfectly natural for his friends to suddenly pop into his dreams.
“Clay!” Starflight cried. “You can see me!”
Clay blinked a few times. “Should I … not be able to see you?”
“This isn’t just a dream,” Starflight said quickly. “I’m really here. I mean, I’m really talking to you.”
“Of course you’re really talking to me,” Clay said cheerfully. “Hungry? There’s a great pheasant around here somewhere.” He looked around, scratching his head. “Oh, uh, I think I already ate it. Sorry.”
Starflight was hungry, but he knew dream food wouldn’t do him any good. “Clay, listen to me. I’m using a dreamvisitor. I’m talking to you from the NightWing kingdom.”
“Very cool,” Clay said in an agreeable voice. “How about a pig? No, wait. I ate that, too.”
“I’m serious,” Starflight said, lashing his tail. “Don’t you remember learning about dreamvisitors? They’re these ancient sapphires that were animus-touched generations ago. I found one and I’m using it to visit your dream and tell you something really important.”
Clay’s forehead was scrunched in a puzzled way. “Sure, Starflight. I have dreams about you lecturing me all the time.”
That stopped Starflight for a moment. “You do?”
Clay drew himself up and adopted a stuffy, scolding voice. “Weren’t you listening? Didn’t you read the scrolls? That was before the Scalding. Everyone knows that.”
“The Scorching,” Starflight corrected automatically. “And I do not sound like that.”