“I want to hear about the mainland,” Mindreader said eagerly. “Tell us everything. We’ve heard there are trees taller than dragons and that in some places the sky is blue. True? False? What’s the coolest thing you’ve seen? What’s the best thing you’ve eaten?”
“You’ve never been to the mainland?” Starflight said.
“Dragonets aren’t allowed to leave the island until we’re ten years old,” Mightyclaws said. “Apparently we can’t be trusted to keep all the NightWing secrets until then.”
Almost in unison, all the dragonets snorted impatiently.
“You’re the only exception,” Fierceteeth said in a voice dripping with scorn.
“Him and the other one,” Mindreader said. “I heard my mom say there was another.”
“I don’t know any NightWing secrets,” Starflight said.
“Oh,” said Mightyclaws. “I guess that’s one way to make sure you keep them!”
The scrabble of claws in the hall outside heralded the appearance of a dragonet smaller than the others, perhaps three years old. She raced into the room and gasped, “He’s coming!”
Immediately the dragonets scattered to their sleeping spots. Half of them dove into their blankets and pretended to be asleep. A few of them grabbed their scrolls and looked studious; others fussed busily with the objects around their beds. Fierceteeth sat down on her bed, folded her wings, and glared at the doorway.
Starflight wished he was unconscious again as he heard heavy footsteps tramping toward the room. He glanced up at the skylight, wondering if he could fit through it but knowing perfectly well he was too terrified to try.
With a scraping, hissing sound, Morrowseer slithered into the room. He frowned at Fierceteeth, then looked coldly down his long nose at Starflight.
“Up,” he snarled. “The queen of the NightWings wants to see you.”
Starflight’s experience with dragon queens thus far had not been exactly wonderful.
“M-me?” he stammered. “Now? You mean, right now? Shouldn’t I — I mean, I’m not really prepared to, or, I — I don’t really look — to see a queen, I mean — maybe —”
“Stop blithering and follow me.” Morrowseer swept out of the cave with a growl.
“Go, go, go,” Mightyclaws hissed, flapping his wings as Starflight hesitated.
Starflight’s claws caught on small holes in the rocky floor and he stumbled as he chased after the giant NightWing. Volcanic rock, he thought, peering at the walls around him. I wonder when it last erupted. From the rumbling under his talons and the heat rising through the floor, it didn’t seem like the most dormant volcano.
Morrowseer led the way up a winding tunnel without looking back.
“My friends —” Starflight started to say. “Sunny and the others — are they —”
The large black dragon didn’t turn around.
Starflight kept walking for a few minutes, then took a deep breath and tried again. “When can I go back?”
His only answer was a snort of disgust. Starflight swallowed his questions and nervously tucked his wings in. The walls felt like they were getting closer.
He didn’t see any guards or rivers of lava. He didn’t see any other NightWings at all.
But as they moved along the tunnel, Starflight heard something up ahead — a hissing, murmuring sound that grew louder as they approached.
Dragon voices, jumbled and arguing.
Dread prickled through every scale on Starflight’s body. If he hadn’t been more terrified of what Morrowseer would do to him, he would have turned and bolted back down the tunnel.
Finally Morrowseer and Starflight stepped through an archway into a cave full of dragons. The walls were packed with dragon wings, with NightWings hanging from crags and rocks and the ceiling like bats. One by one, dark-scaled dragon heads turned toward them. The gathered NightWings fell silent.
A last voice cried, “We should attack now. We should have attacked yester —!” before cutting off abruptly as the speaker noticed Starflight.
Starflight wondered again if he was dreaming, because this was his biggest nightmare come to life: a room full of angry NightWings, all of them glaring at him.
“Watch it,” Morrowseer growled as Starflight stumbled into him, and then Starflight saw what lay ahead of their talons.
A few steps into the cave, the rocky path abruptly fell away on either side, leaving only a thin strip of stone to stand on. Below him was a bubbling lake of glowing orange lava. He could feel the heat crackling along his scales.
Morrowseer stepped back to the safety of the doorway and prodded Starflight forward, so the dragonet was left alone on the spur of rock, surrounded by lava.
Lava and NightWings.
And they’re all reading my mind, he thought with another jolt of terror. They can see all my thoughts. They know I’m terrified and weak and useless and that I don’t think Blister should be the next SandWing queen and that I think this is a horrible place to live and —
Stop thinking about all the things I don’t want them to see in my head!