Moon Rising

  Moon knew she wouldn’t be able to get very close, but she edged toward the IceWings anyway. Winter stretched his wings and twisted his neck to search the crowd — for her, Moon realized, ducking out of sight behind a large MudWing. Midnight tonight, she thought. Either I figure out who did it by then … or I come up with a really great lie … or he exposes me to everyone.

  All of the IceWings had sharp, glittering minds, and clumped together like they were, it was even harder to distinguish Icicle’s thoughts and read them clearly. They seemed to bounce off the others and be reflected several times over. But after a minute of concentrating, Moon found herself balanced on the sword’s edge that was Icicle’s brain.

  By the teeth of the Great Ice Dragon, this is boring as sand, Icicle grumbled internally. I shall certainly tell Mother and Father and Aunt Glacier what a waste of time this entire school is. What have I learned so far? Even dragons who have been to war can be pitiful emotional wrecks. IceWings are superior to every other tribe — of course we knew that already. And don’t set any dragons on fire, or else a bunch of sentimental soft-talons will cry and moralize and lecture you about it endlessly afterward. YAWN.

  Moon tipped her head. Was that an admission of guilt? It was hard to tell.

  I should also tell her this place has done something frightful to Winter. Clearly he’s too weak to associate with dragons from other tribes — he’s talking like he might almost find them interesting. I wonder if I should tell him about Hailstorm. He wouldn’t try to stop me, I don’t think, but it would be too tiresome if he did.

  Moon wished she could circle back and hear that again. Who was Hailstorm?

  Icicle made an impatient movement, and Winter shot her a warning glance. His sister rolled her eyes. Why are they STILL GOING ON ABOUT THIS? Two dragons died, so what? I’ve killed nine times that in almost every battle I’ve been in. We don’t need to HEAR about it ENDLESSLY. They should just find the dragon who did it and give them a slow, horrible death. Perhaps by making them listen to Starflight talk for the next hundred years.

  Up on the dais, Starflight was earnestly trying to explain something about psychological trauma. Moon slid quietly away from the MudWing’s shadow and searched until she found Qibli’s eyes on her, then shook her head. It didn’t sound as though Icicle had done it either, although she had a deeply cold, unpleasant mind.

  Qibli beckoned surreptitiously, flicking one of his wings at the far wall. Moon followed his gaze to Flame, who was brooding in a shadow by one of the torches.

  He is a SkyWing, Qibli thought, and looked at Moon. Perhaps?

  She lifted her wings in a “maybe” gesture and started working her way over to the scarred dragon. Tsunami was speaking now, explaining that they would catch the culprit and asking for anyone with information to come forward.

  Moon could just imagine that conversation: “Hello, I have information about the bomb, which I gathered by listening in on my classmates’ thoughts and dreams. That’s OK, right? I didn’t see ‘no telepathic spying on your friends’ in the student handbook….”

  Although she was trying to move subtly, one step every thirty seconds or so, Flame swung his head around to glare at her when she was still several paces away. She froze in place and kept her eyes on Tsunami, checking his mind. Did he know she was deliberately getting closer to him?

  If he did, she couldn’t tell. It seemed as if he was just projecting hostility at everyone indiscriminately, and she’d wandered across his field of hatred.

  Darkness filled his head like a torrent of inky bile. She found herself glancing down at her talons, half expecting to see black stains left there from even brushing the surface of Flame’s thoughts.

  But will this convince her to come get me no of course not she’d rather leave me with fools and killers than take care of me herself even after what the NightWings did to me even after what Viper did to me even after what the Talons of Peace did to me she’s the one who’s supposed to care about me but she doesn’t no one does will she even worry about me when she hears probably not she hates my face as much as I hate my face I wish I could rip off every SandWing’s venom barb and then use them to stab all the NightWings in their smug snouts —

  Moon’s stomach hurt as though she’d eaten a tree full of rotting fruit. Flame’s fury sucked her in and trapped her like a beetle in slime; she couldn’t climb out, and she couldn’t get clean, and she felt as if all the light was being slurped right out of her.

  He could be the one. His mind went right past Carnelian and Bigtail — stupid half-baked, or all-baked ha ha, idiot dragons they’re lucky they’re dead or else they’d be shambling scarred monsters like me — without a flicker of pity, sadness, or remorse. His loathing was so unrelenting that he barely seemed to have room to think about the fire itself, either that he’d set it or not.

  Moon forced herself to turn toward Qibli, but he was studying the other dragonets again and didn’t notice her anguished expression.

  And then, wound into the tangled gloom in Flame’s head, she heard: I wish I’d done it everyone would take me seriously then but I wouldn’t hide it I’d roar it to the world —

  So it wasn’t him. And she needed to get out of his brain, before she drowned here.

  Help me, she whispered.

  See his thoughts as a boulder, not a wall or a river, Darkstalker said, instantly there when she called. Believe they are movable first, wrap them into a ball shape, and then imagine a slope below them, and push them away downhill.

  Moon tried, dragging the sticky dark webs off her mind and rolling them up. But as she pushed against them, out of the corner of her eye she saw Flame’s head shoot up.

  Who’s there? he demanded. WHO’S THERE?

  And with a ferocious blast of fury, she was thrown forcibly out of his mind.

  Don’t react, Darkstalker cautioned. Moon kept herself still, although she felt as if she had been kicked in the face and she wanted to bolt out of the hall as fast as she could. Flame was glaring about even more viciously now, eyeing all the NightWings with particular suspicion.

  How did he know? she cried frantically to Darkstalker. I’ve never seen anyone do that. How could he notice that I was there?

  I don’t think he knew exactly what was happening, Darkstalker said. I don’t want to risk probing deeper while he’s on the defensive like that. But I suspect he just felt … a presence, let’s say. He can’t be sure it was a mind reader. Especially if you stay calm.

  Moon wasn’t quite sure how to accomplish that; no one in this entire cave was calm.

  But to her relief, a moment later, Sunny announced, “That’s all we had to say. Please come see us if you feel like you want to leave, or if you have any questions. There are no classes today, but we’re all here to take groups out hunting or swimming or flying, and the art and music caves are both open. We’ll let you know what we decide about tomorrow.”

  She turned to Clay, and the students became a milling mob of whispers and flashing teeth. Moon was able to slip away from Flame and find Qibli.

  “Are you all right?” he asked immediately, ducking his head to study her face. He steered her into a corner, carefully not touching her, and spread his wings to shield her from the other dragons. It didn’t stop the stampede of worries, rumors, and complaints from trampling through her head, though. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t block anything out; she was too shaken by Flame’s attack.

  Qibli’s own mind was already speeding forward. I wonder if reading minds is tiring. Is it an infinite resource, or is it a power that drains as she uses it? Or is it more like a muscle that gets stronger the more she exercises it? Sure wish I’d had a skill like that when I was living at home; could have dodged a few more attacks from Sirocco and Rattlesnake. Maybe could have figured out how to make Mum like me. Moon looks like she’s been slammed into a mountain. “You look … tired,” he said diplomatically.

  “I just had a weird experience in Flame’s head,” she said in a low voice. “It’s
horrible in there.”

  “So he did it?” Qibli asked. His tail flicked up into a stabbing position and his brain went, Did he bring the cactus from the Sky Kingdom or find it somewhere near Jade Mountain and how long has he been planning this and how did Scarlet choose him and —

  “No, no, stop,” Moon said. “I don’t think it was him. I don’t think it was any of them. Pike, Icicle, Flame — they were all thinking about the fire like someone else did it.”

  “Camel farts,” Qibli cursed. “They all seemed like perfect suspects.”

  “Yes,” Moon agreed. “They may all still do something terrible, just not this particular thing.”

  He squinted at her. “Was that a prophecy? Did you have visions of them?”

  She shook her head. “Just guessing.”

  Qibli swiveled his head around to watch Icicle parading out of the hall with the other IceWings trailing behind her. “If you know that …” he said thoughtfully. “If you had a list of the dragons with the darkest thoughts, you could keep track of them. You could check their minds every day and catch them if they’re planning something. You’d know who to keep an eye on.” Like Thorn’s potential enemies list, but even more targeted, with more inside information, he mused.

  “That, um,” Moon started, then hesitated. She didn’t want to argue with him, when he was starting to see her power in a positive light. But — “That seems kind of wrong, doesn’t it?” she admitted. “I mean, judging dragons by their dark thoughts, and using that to justify spying on them? Lots of dragons think dark things sometimes; it doesn’t mean they’ll ever actually do them. Almost half the NightWings in the rainforest had an occasional fantasy about killing Glory and stealing the throne, but most of the time they’re just grateful to be alive and fed. I don’t know, I guess I don’t like to think of myself as sneaking around in dragons’ heads. I can’t help what I hear, but it doesn’t seem fair to do it on purpose. I mean, unless we’re catching a murderer, like now.”

  “Hmmm,” he said, but before his thoughts could swoop off on that tangent, he shook his head and stepped back. “Let’s go find Onyx. She seems like the best suspect we have left.”

  “But I won’t be able to hear her thoughts,” Moon said. “How will we learn anything from her?”

  He grinned. “The old-fashioned way. With our eyes and ears.”

  That sounded alarming and inefficient to Moon, but she followed him warily to the cave opening, where most of the dragonets had gone. Everyone seemed to want to be out in the light. It felt sort of inappropriate how gorgeous and sunny it was outside, an early morning full of whistling birdsong and humming bumblebees among the purple mountain flowers.

  Moon noticed that most of the dragonets were staying in clumps with others from their own tribes. Flame had slithered back into the mountain, but the other three SkyWings took to the air together, beating their huge wings and soaring as high as they could. She saw Coconut and two subdued RainWings find a large swathe of sunlit grass and lie down, spreading their wings. Umber and Marsh had gone to check on Sora, but the other two MudWings were tramping down the mountain together, looking for a cool, muddy spot.

  She wondered where all the NightWings had disappeared to so quickly. They wouldn’t want her with them anyway — but did they have a secret place in the mountain where they all went together, somewhere she didn’t know about?

  “So much for our winglets,” Qibli said.

  “It’s only been a couple of days,” Moon said. It was true — she felt as though she’d been here for months, but really she’d stood right here with her mother barely four days ago. “Maybe the winglets will stick together more once we all know each other better.”

  Anemone pushed past them, leading Turtle, Pike, and the other SeaWings. She cast an arch look around at the other dragonets.

  I could find out who did it in two shakes of my tail, she thought indignantly. But Tsunami won’t let me. Shouldn’t use my powers! When it’s something important like this? She shook out her wings and tossed her head. Maybe she’ll change her mind by the time we get back.

  “Are you sure this is safe?” Pike asked her. “Going to the lake? You could be attacked —”

  “Not with all of you strapping dragons along to defend me,” Anemone said, shooting him a smile. Ha, she thought to herself. I’m more dangerous than any of you, if I have to be. Her mind flashed to an image of her own claws holding a spear, then a dragon disappearing in a cloud of bubbles and slithering green shapes. She shuddered and forced her thoughts back to the mountain skies. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Moon watched them soar away and wondered what Anemone was capable of.

  Beside her, Qibli was thinking the same thing about Turtle. But he turned instead toward the clump of SandWings who had found a stretch of flat gray boulders and were baking their scales in the sun. Sprawled comfortably in the middle of them was Onyx, whose black forked tongue kept flicking in and out. Seeing her with all the others, it was clear how much older — and bigger — she was. She was no dragonet; Moon couldn’t understand why she was here.

  The littlest SandWing, Anemone’s clawmate, saw Qibli and Moon approaching and her whole face lit up. Moon realized she was the one Qibli had been talking to on the first day.

  “Qibli!” she cried. “Are you going home? I might go home. Do you think Father or Thorn would be mad if I went home?”

  “They’d be happy to see you, Ostrich,” Qibli said with extra gentleness in his voice. “They want you to feel safe. But I promised to protect you, and I will, so remember you are safe here, too. It’s up to you.”

  “I do feel better now that you’re here,” she said. He reached one of his wings around her, and she leaned into his shoulder.

  “Why’ve you got a NightWing stuck to your tail?” one of the other SandWings asked. The question didn’t sound friendly, but his mind was more curious than hostile. The primary impression Moon got from all of them was that if Qibli decided to do something, it was probably a good idea. They all had him closely linked to Queen Thorn in their minds, and even the two that hadn’t been Outclaws before were deeply respectful of her and anyone associated with her.

  “She’s in my winglet,” Qibli said, as if that made this normal. “Everyone, this is Moon.”

  They all nodded, even Onyx, and Ostrich said, “I like the silver scales by your eyes. They’re not diamonds, are they? I wish I had some treasure, or scales that looked like treasure. They’re pretty.”

  Moon managed a smile, wishing she could pull ferns over her head and hide from all their dark stares. But after a minute, the SandWings mostly stopped thinking about her. Their thoughts were all What’s going to happen to me? and What’s everyone else going to do? and If I leave, will the others think I’m a coward? If I stay, will they think I’m an idiot? Moon curled herself as small as she could on one of the boulders, feeling the heat from the SandWings’ scales in addition to the sun.

  “Will you go back to the stronghold, Qibli?” one of them asked.

  “No,” he said. “Thorn sent me here to learn, and I know she’d want me to stay.”

  Just a few words, and instantly the others were all thinking, Yes, stay, I should stay, he’s right, Thorn would want that. Moon wished she could have even a quarter of that effect on other dragons.

  “What about you, Onyx?” Qibli asked her. “Where would you be going back to, if you left?”

  She narrowed her black eyes at him. That quiet fuzzy hum surrounded her, like what listening to fog would be like if it were turned into sound. Moon folded her front talons together, unsettled. What was going on in Onyx’s head? How was she blocking Moon so completely?

  And me, Darkstalker reminded her quietly.

  “I didn’t grow up in one of the big oases, if that’s what you’re asking,” Onyx said. “It was just me and my mother, roaming the desert, and she’s dead now. Which is why I applied to come here — I have nowhere else to go. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m staying.”


  Just her and her mother? Moon thought. Kind of like me. Except she had her mother all the time, not just in snatches here and there. She was never alone.

  “Did you fight in the war?” Qibli asked.

  “Did you?” Onyx shot back.

  “In a way,” he said. “For Thorn and the Outclaws.”

  She flicked her tongue: out, in. “I chose not to choose a side. None of those dragons were fit to be queen.”

  The two non-Outclaw dragons both had unhappy rippling reactions to that comment: Blaze wasn’t so bad and Perhaps not a good queen, but Burn would have been a strong queen. Then both thought, Thank the moons it’s Thorn instead.

  “Wow,” Qibli said. “I’m amazed you were able to avoid Burn’s soldiers for so long — what are you, twenty years old? And without hiding in the Scorpion Den either; at least, I don’t remember you being there.”

  “Nineteen,” Onyx said. “And no, we stayed away from the Scorpion Den, too.”

  “Your mother wasn’t a fan of other dragons?” Qibli joked lightly. He was trying to figure out whether to ask if they’d had help, perhaps from Queen Scarlet, but in a way that wouldn’t make her even more suspicious. But he could tell that she was already displeased. Questions in general clearly weren’t her favorite thing.

  “That’s right,” Onyx said.

  “Your diamonds are so cool,” Ostrich said. “Did it hurt to get them set between your scales like that?”

  Onyx blinked, and Moon saw that Ostrich was deliberately disarming her. The little SandWing was young, but smart, and although she wasn’t sure what Qibli was fishing for, she instinctively knew how to help him get past the surly older dragon’s defenses.

  “Yes,” Onyx said, stretching out one wing so the small black diamonds could catch the sun, winking and sparkling between her yellow scales. “But that is half the point. If I could endure that much pain just for a little beauty, imagine how much I could handle in a battle, or for my own survival. I think the most beautiful things should also be frightening.”