But on the other talon, Flame was dying. Without the cactus remedy, there was no hope for him. If Starflight told Mastermind, there might still be time for someone to fly to the mainland and get what was needed to save the SkyWing.
Wasn’t that the most important thing? Starflight couldn’t let him die. His friends would choose to save Flame no matter the consequences — wouldn’t they?
Sunny would. Clay would. Glory … I’m not sure. She might say to look at the bigger picture instead.
And Tsunami would say that this is classic Starflight — dithering indecisively instead of doing something.
So, fine. If I can’t make my own decision, then do what Sunny would do.
Starflight opened his mouth to tell Mastermind about the cure, but before he could, three NightWings encased in armor came rushing into the library.
“Mastermind!” one of them shouted. “You’re needed in the council chamber immediately.”
Starflight’s father sprang to his feet and started reshelving the scrolls with fast, neat movements, carefully checking their marks to make sure they went into the right niches. “Why?” he asked the guard at the same time. “What’s happened?”
“The extraction was a failure,” said one of the other NightWings. “They tried to jump through and snatch her while she was watching the tunnel, but there must have been about forty other dragons hidden nearby, like they were guarding her or something. You should see what they did to the three we sent through.”
“You say ‘they,’” said the third soldier, “but we all know most of the damage was done by the SeaWing herself.”
Starflight tried to contain the joy bursting under his scales; he hoped none of these dragons could sense it in his mind. They had to be talking about Tsunami. She was safe, at least for now. His warning had helped.
The first guard shook his head. “I hope Her Majesty never sends me after that dragonet. I’d rather carve out my eyes than try to grab her.”
“I heard she nearly bit Wisdom’s ear off,” said the second.
“The healers are there already, but the queen wants you, too,” the third said to Mastermind. “Hurry up.”
Mastermind shelved the last scroll and hurried after the guards. No one had told Starflight not to follow them, so he did, hoping he’d learn something before anyone noticed he was there.
The council chamber echoed with the roars of angry dragons. Slumped by the entrance were three dragons who certainly looked as if they’d run into the sharper side of Tsunami. Claw marks were slashed along their wings, their tails looked bitten and dented, and all of their snouts were bleeding. Two other NightWings were dabbing at their wounds with bandages, ointment, and disgusted expressions.
“The longer we delay, the stronger they get!” shouted one of the council members. “They could attack at any moment!”
“We should block off the tunnel so they can’t come through,” cried another. “It’s the only way to be safe.”
“Safe for a few days, perhaps,” Greatness interjected from her spot by the hidden queen. “But what about the plan? What about the future of this tribe? We need that tunnel.”
“What we should do is attack right now,” bellowed one of the old dragons on the ceiling.
“Without the SandWings?” Morrowseer’s voice interjected. Starflight realized that the giant NightWing was perched not far from Greatness, but he didn’t look in Starflight’s direction. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed him yet. Starflight ducked behind Mastermind and the three guards, watching through the gaps between their wings.
“Our plan is proceeding as it’s supposed to,” Morrowseer insisted. “We’ve chosen our ally and we have — well, we have most of the dragonets of the prophecy. But we need time to get them ready and marshal our forces for the attack. The plan was supposed to give us two more years.…”
“Look at those soldiers!” another NightWing shouted, gesturing at the wounded dragons by the door. “We don’t have two years — we don’t have two days. Your dragonets are out of control. They’re making even the RainWings dangerous, and they’re threatening the whole plan. We need to go in now, take out the RainWings, and contain the dragonets before they do any more damage.”
“We’re not ready,” growled a dragon with a missing tooth. “Mastermind said we still don’t know enough about the RainWings.”
“We know how to kill them! That’s all we need to know!”
“But where are our extra weapons? Where is our specially designed venom-proof armor? Where are our helmets? What has Mastermind been doing for the last three days?”
“It takes a bit more than three days to make four hundred helmets,” Mastermind called from the doorway, bristling.
Suddenly Greatness rose to her full height and spread her wings. Silence fell almost instantly around the whole chamber. Every dragon turned to face the screen, watching intently as she leaned in to listen to the queen’s instructions. Starflight imagined the creaky rasp of Battlewinner’s voice echoing through the hidden room.