Moon Rising

  What do you know about Fathom that I don’t? Moon wondered as she rolled through the scroll. She quickly found the section on Fathom, alongside a giant illustrated question mark.

  Grandson of Albatross, the perpetrator of the Royal SeaWing Massacre [see: Albatross]. Fathom was so traumatized by his family’s murder that he swore an oath to his sister, Pearl, the new SeaWing queen, that he would never use his animus magic.

  Fathom was sent to the Night Kingdom to befriend and guide a young animus dragon named Darkstalker. The hope was that Fathom’s sad story, his caution, and his understandable wariness about their powers would have a positive effect on the ambitious, brilliant NightWing. At first it seemed to work, and they became close friends.

  But Darkstalker could not be convinced that his powers were dangerous, and as he used them more and more, Fathom and the other NightWings became afraid of him. Fathom was among the first to sound a warning about his friend, and the stories say he was the one who convinced Clearsight that Darkstalker could not be trusted.

  The legend says that Fathom finally agreed to use his power just once: to enchant an object that could stop Darkstalker, since nothing and nobody else could. Whatever the object was, it must have worked, as Darkstalker disappeared and was never seen again.

  How sad, Moon thought, studying the picture of a worried-looking SeaWing. He must have felt awful, doing that to his friend. I wonder what he enchanted.

  There was a deep pause, and Moon could almost have sworn that she felt the mountain tremble slightly under her talons.

  It was a bracelet, the voice whispered, soft as leaves falling.

  Moon blinked at the scroll. What?

  A bracelet. A wrist cuff. Enchanted to put me to sleep forever. Since I couldn’t die — that story about making myself immortal is true — they had to come up with something else.

  Her whole body felt numb, like ice was sweeping across her scales.

  I knew it, the voice went on. I knew when she pulled it out — right before she put it on me, I thought, Fathom must have touched that. He broke his sacred oath to his sister, just to betray me. But I wasn’t sure until now.

  What are you saying? Moon asked, pressing her claws into the stone below her.

  I’m saying, nice to meet you, Moon. My name is Darkstalker.

  “But you can’t be,” Moon whispered, then realized she’d spoken aloud when Sora looked up and blinked at her. She turned toward the wall and thought, Darkstalker lived over two thousand years ago.

  I know. He sighed. I’ve been asleep a long time, apparently. I suspect this bracelet was supposed to keep me that way forever.

  So what happened? Moon asked. Why are you awake now?

  It’s broken, he said. After two thousand years, almost anything becomes weaker. Something must have jarred it and snapped it off.

  The earthquakes? Moon wondered. There was a comet six months ago — as it passed by, there were a lot of earthquakes and strange weather.

  That’s when I woke up, he said, so you’re probably right.

  Moon hesitated. Six months ago was also when her nightmares had started. The ones about Jade Mountain falling. Was she seeing visions of something that would ultimately be caused by Darkstalker’s awakening?

  I’m not actually a monster, no matter what the scrolls and ghost stories say, he said. Can’t you tell?

  Where are you? she asked instead of answering.

  That, I don’t know. Somewhere dark. Covered in stone. I can’t move. I can only … think. He let out an odd sort of chuckle. Perhaps you can see why I was so pleased to find you. I can hear others, but no one else can hear me. Makes for a lot of very boring, one-sided conversations.

  She didn’t know what else to say. She’d expected … well, another dragon like her, someone she could meet and go flying with. She had not expected to be talking to the legendary monster of NightWing nightmares.

  I’m not a monster, he said again quietly. It seems history has painted me that way, but perhaps that’s what happens when you disappear before you can tell your own story, and only your enemies are left to finish it. Or your best-friends-turned-enemies, apparently.

  Moon rolled back to the Darkstalker section of the scroll. A handsome dark face stared regally out at her. He had the silver scales in the corners of his eyes, too.

  Formidable dragon, Darkstalker said with mild amusement. I suppose that’s true, but it is not my fault I was born with these powers. I think you know something about that.

  I’ve never plotted to steal any thrones, though, Moon pointed out. Or killed my father.

  I think you would, if you’d had my father. I saved the tribe from him, Darkstalker argued. He was a lot worse than I am. This scroll’s version of the story is highly oversimplified. As for being king — why not? Just because we’ve only ever had queens, does that mean a king is impossible? Why would I have all these gifts if I wasn’t supposed to use them to lead and protect the tribe?

  It felt as though he’d suddenly seized her mind in an iron grip. Moon winced, touching her head.

  Listen, Darkstalker said. I could see the future, but not just any future — all the possible futures. Do you understand what that means? I could have guided the tribe along the best path, to safety and glory and power and everything else. At each crossroad, I would have known the right thing to do. I loved my tribe, Moonwatcher. I would have been the best ruler they’d ever had. I know it; I saw the futures where I was king, benevolent and beloved, married to Clearsight with six little dragonets of our own. Those were possible. They could have happened, if anyone had had faith in me.

  He paused, then went on. She saw them, too. Clearsight had the gift of prophecy, as strong as mine. She knew those futures existed … but she also saw the ones where I turned toward evil, destroying instead of protecting. She didn’t believe me that I could avoid those paths.

  In the end, I guess she didn’t believe in me at all.

  I wonder what happened to her.

  There was another really long pause.

  This is going to sound weird, Moon offered, but I kind of want to give you a hug right now.

  Darkstalker barked a laugh.

  How did she surprise you, then? Moon asked. If you could see all these futures — how did she trick you with the bracelet?

  I had too much faith in her, he said. I saw the possibility that she would betray me in more than one future — but further down the line. I didn’t want to believe it, so I never studied those paths, just as she was supposed to stop looking down my darker paths as well. Up until the last moment, even with visions of blackness pressing against me, I still thought I could change her mind — that I could talk her into trusting me so we could fly into our bright, perfect future.

  He made a kind of growl, but Moon couldn’t tell what was behind it — bitterness, revenge, despair? Loneliness?

  I never saw any of this back then, though, he said. I suppose prophecy doesn’t extend two thousand years forward, not even for me.

  So you don’t know what happens next? Moon said.

  All I can see is darkness, he said softly. All I can do is hope.

  Hope for what?

  Hope for someone to set me free. You, specifically.

  Moon jumped up, dropping the Animus Histories scroll. Starflight turned his head toward her, and Sora blinked up in surprise.

  “Sorry,” Moon said. “Just — had a thought.” How can I set you free? she cried. I’m nobody. We have no idea where you are. And you’re — you’re —

  The most dangerous dragon in Pyrrhia history? Darkstalker said drily. You shouldn’t believe everything you read, Moon.

  Even if I did agree to do it, Moon thought, which I’m not saying I will … how could I?

  There’s something I need, he said.

  “Moon!” Kinkajou called, sticking her head into the library. “Didn’t you hear the three gongs? We have to get to history class! Sora, you too!”

  Sora scrambled to her feet, dropped her
scroll with a clatter, and fumbled around trying to roll it back up. Moon picked up the Animus Histories, wondering if she could skip class somehow. She kind of wanted to keep talking to Darkstalker, which would be hard to do in a cave full of dragons all thinking at the top of their brains.

  “Hi, Starflight! I’m superexcited,” Kinkajou said. “I don’t know anything about history. I have a million questions for Webs. Like, what’s the Scorching, and is it true there used to be scavengers everywhere, and who started the Talons of Peace, and what’s the big IceWing tragedy from the past, and —”

  A scream of terror suddenly echoed through the tunnels.

  “Help!” somebody shrieked. More screams and the clamor of running dragons joined the tumult. “The SkyWing! She’s here to kill us all!”

  Queen Scarlet shot through Starflight’s mind as he leaped over the desk. She’s come for us.

  “Find somewhere to hide,” he cried to Moon, Kinkajou, and Sora. He stumbled forward, talons outstretched. “Don’t let her see you.” Which way to the Great Hall? he thought frantically. I have to get there. I have to protect them.

  “Who?” Kinkajou yelped. “Who are we hiding from?”

  Sora curled into a ball on the reeds, trembling. Horrible images were lurching up from the mud puddle in her brain: dragons on fire, dragons screaming, spears bristling, a little brown dragon bleeding from her neck as she plummeted to the ground.

  Moon clutched her head. The images weren’t just coming from Sora; all over the school, dragonets who’d been in the war were hearing the alarm and having awful flashbacks. She could hardly think straight through all the violence reeling around in her head.

  Raindrops, she tried to think.

  That won’t work here, Darkstalker said. Everyone is too panicked. Find the calmest voice and anchor yourself. Focus on it. It’ll help if it’s someone who knows what’s going on.

  Moon closed her eyes and searched rapidly through the tumult around her. Her mind landed, unexpectedly, in Carnelian’s.

  She won’t hurt me, Carnelian was thinking, wary but unafraid. I wonder if she remembers me.

  So it’s not Queen Scarlet, Moon realized. Or Carnelian would be angrier than that.

  Starflight was already hurrying away to the Great Hall, his wings brushing the rock walls on either side, his talons reaching forward anxiously.

  Moon started after him.

  “Aren’t we hiding?” Kinkajou asked.

  “Is that what you want to do?” Moon asked.

  “No!” Kinkajou said, flaring green and purple and white and yellow in dizzying spirals. “I thought that’s what you would want to do. But chasing after him to see what’s happening is MUCH more exciting!” I love my clawmate! she thought ecstatically, bounding along beside Moon.

  They burst into the hall only a few moments behind Starflight.

  A SkyWing stood in the center of the cave, staring wildly around her with eerie blue eyes. Smoke rose from her shimmering metallic-orange scales.

  Most students had fled, but Winter and Icicle stood in one of the tunnel entrances, glaring at the SkyWing. Carnelian was there, too, watching curiously. Two other dragons had apparently fainted before they could run away, a SeaWing and a SandWing Moon didn’t know.

  “Who’s there?” Starflight called, his voice shaking. Moon realized that he was trying to look brave, but that he was almost paralyzed with fear. His visions of the former SkyWing queen were intensely replaying over and over, most of them featuring Starflight bleeding in some kind of arena while she laughed.

  But the dragon he was afraid of was not the dragon here in front of them. Moon didn’t know who this was, or anything about her. Trying to look into the newcomer’s mind was like touching an inferno. She couldn’t read a single thought in the blaze.

  “That’s not Queen Scarlet,” Moon said, touching his shoulder.

  “It’s not?” Starflight said. His wings collapsed with relief.

  “Peril!” Clay shouted as he hurried into the cave, moving fast despite his limp. “You came!”

  Oh, great, Tsunami thought, coming in right behind him.

  Peril instinctively shrank away from Clay, but the wall of flames in her mind cooled for a brief moment as she looked at him. Moon caught a stab of fierce, desperate love and guilt, and then the fire swallowed everything coherent again.

  Clay didn’t seem to notice her pulling away; he took one of Peril’s talons and pressed it between his. A sizzling sound and burning smell rose from his scales where they touched, but when he let go, the burn healed over almost instantly.

  “When we didn’t hear from you, we assumed you weren’t coming,” Tsunami said.

  “I thought I could find her,” Peril said, tearing her gaze away from Clay. “But she’s nowhere. I don’t know where else to look. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Clay said wholeheartedly. “We’re glad you’re here.”

  That’s only true for him, Moon thought. Not remotely for anyone else. Peril’s lucky she doesn’t have mind reading. Almost every dragon who knew she was here was brimming with hostility, fear, fury, or, in most cases, all three.

  “We don’t have a group for you,” Tsunami said, folding her wings back. “We didn’t know you were coming, so there’s a SkyWing in each winglet already.”

  “I don’t have to stay,” Peril mumbled. She edged back a step, toward the outside.

  “But I want you to,” Clay said. “If Scarlet’s looking for you, too, we’ll all be safer together. Don’t worry about the winglets, we’ll figure it out.” He shot Tsunami a frown. Don’t scare her away. She deserves a second chance.

  Tsunami rolled her eyes, but a memory of Peril saving Clay’s life kept her from saying the rest of the snappish things in her head. “I’ll go ask Sunny where we should put you,” she said instead, and swept away.

  “She can’t stay here!” Winter suddenly barked, stepping forward. He jabbed a claw at Peril. “That dragon killed more than twenty IceWing prisoners. She was Queen Scarlet’s favorite weapon. It’s one thing to force us to work with deceitful NightWings and lowborn SandWings, but a straight-up murderer? No one is going to stand for this.”

  “Besides, she’s dangerous,” his sister pointed out in a smooth, high-pitched voice. “Whether she’s still working for Queen Scarlet or … not.” The tone of her voice made it perfectly clear which of those she believed.

  “A lot of dragons have done things they need to be forgiven for,” Clay pointed out. Just around the corner, Moon felt Tsunami hear him, pause, and wince. “Especially in the war. The agreement between the queens was amnesty for everyone, no grudges, no revenge.”

  Easy for him to say, Winter thought bitterly, and the IceWing from the mountains shot through his head again, this time along with the word brother. “Fighting in battles, following orders from your general, that’s normal warfare,” he said. “Killing prisoners while they’re chained up, or forcing them to fight a monster — how is that forgivable?”

  Peril seemed to be shrinking and burning hotter at the same time. Her weird eyes glowered at Winter through the smoke.

  “Even Queen Ruby hasn’t agreed to pardon that dragon,” Icicle pointed out. “She’s been banned from the SkyWing palace, hasn’t she?”

  “All the more reason to welcome her here,” Clay said. “Where starting over and second chances are the whole point.” He smiled at Peril again. She lashed her tail and ducked her head. “Come on, let’s go see the others,” Clay added diplomatically, waving Peril toward the tunnel where Tsunami had disappeared.

  Icicle turned to Winter as they left and hissed, “I’ll send a messenger to Queen Glacier tonight.”

  The gong sounded twice, echoing through the tunnels.

  “Time for history,” Kinkajou said cheerfully. “Come on, Winter!”

  Icicle gave him an amused, arch look. How adorable, a RainWing with a crush on my brother.

  Winter shifted his wings uncomfortably and started after Kinkajou. She thinks it�
�s funny, but if she knew what I’ve been feeling — who I’ve been thinking about … He slammed a wall of ice down over his thoughts, almost hard enough for Moon to feel the vibrations in her own skull.

  The history lesson cave was far down inside the mountain, at the intersection of three winding, narrow tunnels. There were fewer of the fire globes along these tunnels; the ones here were shades of orange and blue, and they were interspersed with flickering torches. Moon noticed that Kinkajou edged quickly past the open flames; the RainWing also didn’t love the claustrophobic closeness of the walls or how much darker it was this far down.

  Inside, the history cave’s stone walls were covered in maps, the paper curling up at the edges, with different borders and years written on each one. Stacks of scrolls were piled untidily everywhere, overflowing the wooden racks provided for them.

  Webs stood in the center of the cave, waiting for everyone to gather in a circle around him. Moon sensed that he was the one who’d chosen the space, and that he preferred the dimmer, more underground feeling. He was the SeaWing who’d brought the fish in the net, and he was a lot older than the prophecy dragonets. Trails of regret ran underneath all his thoughts, even when he was mostly focused on the lesson he was about to give. Moon wondered why he was here and how he’d gotten the scar on his side.

  Moon’s winglet filed in, and so did Sora’s. As each dragon entered, Moon slipped their minds into the background rainstorm noise, and she felt her wings relax. Even in a cave filled with fifteen dragons, she could be all right. Her head didn’t hurt, and she didn’t feel overwhelmed or confused. She could think her own thoughts … thanks to Darkstalker.

  Moon noticed that Icicle and Sora sat on opposite ends of the cave and didn’t speak to each other. The other NightWing was the male uninspiringly named Bigtail, the one Pike had growled at; now she realized they were clawmates. She guessed that would be an uncomfortable cave to sleep in tonight. Bigtail glanced at Moon and then quickly away, as if he didn’t want to be associated with her. Pike slid past him, glowering, and nearly flicked Bigtail’s nose with one of his wings.