And so he was facing the cave entrance, and he saw the fireball come barreling at them, filling the tunnel wall to wall with bright orange flames. Morrowseer’s dark figure was silhouetted against the fire for a brief, horribly bright moment, and then suddenly the huge NightWing was gone, swallowed by the volcanic explosion.
A second later, Starflight’s scales were blasted with heat as if he’d fallen into lava. A stab of blazing agony went through both eyes, and he closed them with a howl of pain.
And then he felt wings wrap around him, and he realized it was Clay — Clay and his fireproof scales.
The MudWing lifted him, shielding him with his whole body, and shot into the tunnel.
Will the fire follow us? Starflight wondered dazedly. How does the animus magic work — will we cross over to the rainforest side halfway through and be safe or can it reach all the way —
Rain pattered down on his scales, sizzling softly, and he felt claws pull him from the tunnel and lie him down on wet moss. Cool wet leaves pressed against his face and he heard the murmur of hundreds of dragon voices against a background of rainforest night sounds, sloths chirruping, insects and frogs singing their night songs — and among the talons he was sure he felt Sunny’s. He felt the warmth of her scales that he’d know anywhere, even with his eyes closed (or … blind?), and he felt her press close to him for a moment and whisper … But why did it sound like Fatespeaker’s voice …? “Starflight. You were so brave.”
And then the warmth was gone, and he wondered if he’d imagined it, and then pain flared all along his body and he opened his mouth to scream but it hurt too much.
Something jabbed him in the neck and he had a moment to think, sleeping dart, what a good idea, and then everything, everything — the pain, the worry, Sunny and Fatespeaker, the truth about the prophecy, the fear of the volcano — everything faded away, and Starflight dropped into darkness as black as a NightWing’s scales.
Snow was falling, thick and fast, and the snowflakes spun across the icy ground in the freezing wind.
A SandWing stood huddled by the walls outside her fort, wrapped in blankets and trying to breathe fire into the air around her.
“P-p-please can’t we go inside?” she said to the tall white dragon beside her.
“No,” said Queen Glacier. “No one can be trusted with this information until we make a decision.” Her arctic-blue eyes regarded the IceWing guards who were positioned just out of hearing range, watching the skies for danger. Frost glittered along her wings and horns. The spikes at the end of her tail were as sharp and cold as icicles.
Blaze sighed. “You mean, until you make a decision.”
“Your input is always welcome,” Glacier said calmly. She knew there was no chance of the SandWing disagreeing with the IceWing queen.
“My neck hurts.” Blaze stamped her feet and poked the bandage on her neck. “Ow. Do you think it’s going to scar? I’ll be so mad if it scars.”
“You’re sure about what you heard?” Glacier asked her. “The NightWings have chosen to side with Blister, and they’re trying to force the dragonets to choose her as well?”
“That’s what it sounded like,” Blaze said. “But more important, that NightWing tried to kill me! You’re going to kill him, right?”
“We’re going to kill all of them, if we must,” said Glacier. “I have no objection to the idea of wiping out the NightWings. But we should consider what to do about the dragonets of the prophecy.”
“They seemed nice,” Blaze said, rubbing her talons together to warm them up. “Some of them were a little funny-looking. And I still don’t understand what that RainWing was doing with them. Besides, she was a little too pretty. I think it’s better to be just the right amount of pretty, don’t you? Too pretty is annoying.”
“Indeed,” said Glacier, barely listening. “We don’t want them telling anyone they’ve chosen Blister. It would be very demoralizing for our dragons.”
“But they can’t possibly choose her now that they’ve met me!” Blaze cried. “Now they know I’m wonderful and would make a great queen! They’ll definitely pick me.”
“Hmm,” Glacier said noncommittally. She didn’t have quite the same faith in Blaze’s persuasive abilities or dazzling charisma that Blaze did. Her own alliance with Blaze was based less on the SandWing’s potential queenliness and more on certain promises of future new territory for the IceWings.
“Well,” Glacier said, “just in case they’re leaning in another direction, I think we should make an effort to find these dragonets. I’d like to have a chat with them myself.”
“Fine, all right,” Blaze said, shivering violently. “I’ll tell you everything I know about what they looked like and what they said. But can we please do that inside?”
Glacier nodded thoughtfully and Blaze bolted for the door.
The IceWing queen was good at putting together clues and figuring things out. She would find those dragonets. And she really would start by talking to them — just to see which way they were inclined.
But of course, if it was the wrong way … well, a few dead dragonets here and there would hardly be noticed in a war like this.