Not that he wanted to … but he didn’t want to be useless either.
“Let’s see,” Mastermind said, studying the large catalog scroll on the main table. Each end of the scroll was rolled around a spindle with a handle that could be turned to navigate quickly through the entire thing. Mastermind spun the scroll rapidly through to the M’s and paused on Medicinal Records.
“Hmm.” He tapped his claws on the list, then turned to the niches in the wall. “Help me brainstorm, son. The queen is very angry about what’s happened to the SkyWing dragonet. I’m afraid he’ll be dead by morning if we don’t find some way to combat the SandWing poison. Which is apparently my responsibility, for some reason, as if I’m not already swamped trying to construct venom-proof helmets for the entire NightWing tribe in two days, using only my regretfully flawed prototype, which the queen says will simply have to do for now.” He paused for a breath, pulling scrolls out and tucking them under one wing.
“Did you say two days?” Starflight echoed, trying to sound casual.
“In case the council votes to attack,” Mastermind answered with a snort. “I tried to tell them that my research is still incomplete and I cannot guarantee that any operation will go smoothly.”
I’m pretty sure I can guarantee that it won’t, Starflight thought, remembering the look on Glory’s face.
Mastermind flicked his tail. “So if you have any ideas, let’s hear them. The problem is that naturally I’ve never studied SandWing venom — orders were to do nothing to antagonize our ally — but if it’s anything like RainWing venom, there is nothing that counteracts its effects.”
Starflight blinked with surprise. His father hadn’t figured out that the antidote to a RainWing’s venom was venom from a blood relative?
It was kind of impressive that none of the RainWing prisoners had revealed that information. Perhaps they were a little tougher and smarter than Starflight had given them credit for.
It was also interesting that the NightWings seemed to have so much knowledge — this entire library full of scrolls — and yet they didn’t know something as essential as how to cure someone who’d been stabbed by a SandWing. Sunny had been able to get that information out of Blaze in a matter of minutes.
Perhaps that’s one downside to staying isolated, Starflight thought. They keep themselves separate to seem more powerful, and yet they’re cut off from so much potential knowledge. If they didn’t feel superior to all other dragons, maybe they’d be better at listening to them, and maybe they’d learn something new.
Mastermind had his nose in a scroll and was muttering grimly. “Unlikely. Tried that on RainWing venom and it didn’t work. None of that nearby. Doubtful.”
Imagine how much we could know if the NightWings studied the right things, like the medicinal properties of all the rainforest plants, instead of torturing dragons and obsessing over their secret plan.
Starflight realized that the section they were standing in was labeled for nightwing eyes only. He pulled out one of the scrolls at random, curious.
It turned out to be a treatise by two authors about the plan to take over the rainforest. One author argued in favor of killing all the RainWings right away, while the other author suggested that enslaving them would be more useful in the long term.
Feeling ill, Starflight shoved the scroll back into its slot with so much force that it wrinkled and nearly ripped in half.
His father looked up at him. “Well? Any thoughts?” He barreled on without waiting for a response. “We may have to contact Blister, although I fear she’ll want to trade information this valuable for something of equal worth to her — like the location of our island.” Mastermind scratched his snout with a worried frown. “Personally, I’m not sure it’s advisable to give her any power over us.”
“Definitely not,” Starflight said. “I don’t trust her.”
Mastermind nodded. “Well, alliances aren’t always about trust, I’m afraid.” He picked up another scroll and unrolled it.
Starflight shifted uncomfortably, flexing his claws. He knew the antidote to SandWing venom. But should he share it with Mastermind? On the one talon, it seemed dangerous to hand the NightWings any more secrets than they already had. He could easily imagine them abusing that information — by attacking SandWings, for instance, with no more fear of what their venom might do. Or they might take all the cacti in the desert and hoard it for themselves so only NightWings would have the ability to heal from a SandWing attack.
Or, from what he’d seen of NightWings so far, they’d probably come up with something even more horrible that Starflight would never be able to imagine on his own.