The red dragonet’s only response was a low moan.
Tsunami would yell at Morrowseer. Sunny … Sunny would probably try to reason with him.
Starflight’s wings were shaking uncontrollably, but he made himself step in front of Morrowseer. Pretend you’re Tsunami. Or Clay. Or Glory or Sunny.
“What are you doing?” Starflight blurted.
Morrowseer glared down at him. “Now is not a good time to annoy me.”
“These dragonets can’t be in the prophecy,” Starflight said. “They don’t even have the right hatching day. Is there anything about them that does fit? Was Viper’s egg found on its own in the desert, like Sunny’s? Was Flame’s egg the largest in the Sky Palace? Why are you pretending they could fulfill the prophecy when there’s no way they can be the right dragonets?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Morrowseer bared his teeth.
“Maybe,” said Starflight, “but I want to know. Everything I ever read — all the scrolls written by NightWings for generations — said ‘Don’t mess with fate. Things will happen the way they’re foretold and nobody can change that.’ Prophecies aren’t like treasure hoards where you can mix and match which gems you like and trade out the ones you don’t. I bet these dragonets are dying because you’re trying to force them into a destiny that’s not meant for them. You should leave us all alone and let fate unfold the way it’s supposed to.” He took a deep breath, astonished and terrified at his audacity in talking to Morrowseer this way. “That’s — that’s what I think anyway.”
“You are an ignorant dragonet,” said Morrowseer, “with no powers of your own, and no one will ever listen to you.”
Starflight felt as if he’d been stabbed in the heart by a SandWing. He stared up at Morrowseer, unable to breathe.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Morrowseer snarled. “It’s obvious how useless you are. You’ll never be a true NightWing. You don’t belong anywhere, least of all here.”
If he had read Starflight’s mind — and maybe he had — he couldn’t have found anything that would have hurt Starflight more. All his nightmares had centered around this moment: You are not a real NightWing, there is something wrong with you, and you are a failure in every way.
Starflight took a trembling step back and felt Fatespeaker’s wings brush against his. He hadn’t noticed her coming up behind him.
“Leave him alone,” she said to Morrowseer. “He’s only telling you the truth about the prophecy. I have the wrong hatching day, too, and you know that.”
“I know a lot more about prophecies than either of you,” Morrowseer snarled. He shoved them aside and seized Flame’s forearm, yanking him up. “You’re not allowed to die. We’re going to the healers. The rest of you, stay out of my way or you’ll be joining that SandWing.” He glared at Flame’s face, which the SkyWing was still keeping hidden. Starflight could see blood dripping between the red dragon’s claws. Morrowseer shook his head and muttered, “Now we need that stunted SandWing, too. I’m going to —”
Starflight didn’t hear the rest, as Morrowseer launched himself into the air, forcibly dragging Flame along behind him.
But he’d heard enough. Sunny’s in danger now, too.
He had to use the dreamvisitor again, as soon as possible.
He turned and found Fatespeaker staring at the lava, her wings drooping. The red-gold light of the river reflected off her silver scales, making them glint like rubies.
“Well,” said Ochre. “If no one cares what I’m doing, I’m going to find some decent prey, if there is any on this stupid island.” He backed away, as if waiting for one of them to argue with him, then stamped around and flew off.
Starflight gently put one of his wings around Fatespeaker. “Let’s go back to the dormitory and rest,” he said. “You haven’t had any sleep, right?”
“How can I —” she started, then stopped herself. “Actually, sleeping sounds like the only thing I could do right now. Although I’m afraid it’ll be nothing but nightmares.”
Starflight knew what she meant. He helped her up, and they flew side by side back to the fortress. The dormitory was deserted — Starflight guessed the other NightWing dragonets were at class, presumably learning something more useful than how to push your friend into some lava or your whole life is pointless.
Fatespeaker collapsed onto one of the stone hollows and closed her eyes. “You’re lucky,” she said just as Starflight was about to move away.