Wings of Fire Book Four: The Dark Secret, Page 3

  There was a clear spot on the cave walls right across from him. It looked like a circle had been carved into the rock, as wide across as Starflight’s wingspan, and then jabbed full of small holes, none of them bigger than a dragon’s eye.

  The other dragons kept glancing at this circle as if waiting for it to do something.

  On a ledge beside the circle perched a dragon with a scar rippling down her chest. Her wings drooped in an odd way, as if they were weighted down with rocks, and she wore a cluster of diamonds around her neck. Another chain of smaller teardrop diamonds was wound around the horns on her head.

  But that can’t be the queen, Starflight thought. She didn’t have authority in her bones. She didn’t radiate power all the way through her wingtips, like the other queens he’d met.

  It took him only a moment of puzzling this out before he realized that there must be a dragon behind the screen, staring through those holes at him. A chill sliced through his scales. Nobody could see her, but her presence filled the cave like heavy smoke.

  The queen of the NightWings.

  The scrolls always referred to her as mysterious and unknown, but Starflight hadn’t imagined that she would keep herself hidden even from her own tribe.

  Why?

  Because it’s extra-terrifying, he answered himself.

  “This is him?” barked one of the dragons.

  “Yes,” Morrowseer growled. “We snatched him from the rainforest this morning.”

  Wings rustled uneasily all around the cave.

  “Has he told us anything?” asked another dragon. “What do they know? What are they planning?”

  “How soon will they attack?” growled another.

  “And how did that RainWing escape?” another one shouted as several dragons began to speak at once. “We’ve heard reports that there was a MudWing with her. A MudWing! How did he get here? Why didn’t we kill them before they got away?”

  They’re talking about Glory and Clay, Starflight thought with a shudder.

  “That’s the RainWing I warned you about,” Morrowseer snarled. “The one the Talons of Peace got to replace the SkyWing they lost.” He spat into the lava. “This is exactly why I told them to kill her.”

  “A RainWing, of all things,” said the dragon with the diamonds. “What an unfortunate mistake.”

  “We had her,” said a dragon with twisted horns. “Here. In our talons. And nobody killed her?”

  “Who knows what she saw?” cried another dragon. “If she warns the RainWings what we’re planning —”

  “She can’t possibly know that,” Morrowseer said.

  “She knows about the tunnel between our kingdoms,” challenged a dragon from the far wall. “And that little one escaped with her. She’ll have told her everything she saw in the fortress. What if they figure it out?”

  A clamor of voices filled the cave.

  Figure what out? Starflight looked down at his talons and wished they weren’t shaking so much. He was half afraid that he’d tremble himself off balance and into the lava, but that wasn’t even in the top twenty things he was worrying about right now. What are they planning?

  He glanced up at the screen where the queen was hidden. She hadn’t spoken at all yet. But he could feel her watching; from the way his skin prickled, he thought she hadn’t taken her eyes off him since he’d entered the cave.

  All at once, the dragon with the diamonds leaned toward the screen, tilting her head.

  A hush fell instantly around the room. Nothing moved except the bloop-bloop of bubbles in the lava. Every NightWing present seemed to be holding his or her breath.

  Starflight didn’t hear anything — no queen’s voice issuing regally from her hiding spot — but the diamond dragon nodded and straightened up again.

  “Queen Battlewinner says to shut up and ask him.” To his horror, she pointed at Starflight. “That’s why he’s here. Make him tell us what they know and what they’re going to do next.”

  The listening dragons all swiveled their heads toward him.

  Falling into the lava suddenly sounded like a pretty great option.

  “Um,” Starflight stammered several times. “I — I — um —”

  “Speak or I kill you right now,” Morrowseer growled behind him.

  Starflight pressed his front talons together and took a deep breath. “Her name is Glory,” he blurted.

  The dragons all hissed. This was not something they cared about.

  “She — she said you have RainWing prisoners.” Please tell me she’s wrong. Tell me it’s all a mistake.

  But no one corrected him.

  Should he tell them Glory’s plan? That she was trying to become queen of the RainWings so she could build an army to come rescue their lost dragons? That they shouldn’t underestimate her?

  Would he be betraying his friends if he said all that to the NightWings?

  Or would he be betraying his tribe if he didn’t?

  The close, smoky air of the cave pressed down around Starflight.

  What if I can fix everything?

  This is the chance you wanted. You asked Glory to let you talk to the NightWings. You wanted to give them a chance to explain themselves — you wanted to find a peaceful solution, so you wouldn’t have to pick sides in a war.

  But now that he was here, facing their dark eyes, he couldn’t find any of the brilliant words he’d meant to use.

  Suddenly one of the nearest dragons snapped, “Just tell us if they’re planning an attack!”

  “Yes,” Starflight blurted. “I mean — I think so.”

  This met with such an uproar that Starflight had to sit down and cover his head with his wings. He’d said the worst possible thing. He’d made everything worse for Glory and the RainWings, and he couldn’t even bring himself to speak up and try that famous “diplomacy” he’d always thought was such a good idea.

  They wouldn’t listen to me anyway, he told himself, but he didn’t know if that was true. He wasn’t brave enough to find out.

  “It doesn’t matter,” rasped a hoarse, wet voice. “RainWings are no match for us.”

  A horribly disfigured dragon pushed past Morrowseer, slithered into the cave, and glowered at the other dragons. His snout was twisted and deformed by a terrible scar that had closed one nostril, melted several scales, and left nasty oozing bubbles along his jawline.

  The dragon with the diamonds frowned. “Vengeance, you were not invited to this council.”

  “Yeah, I noticed,” he hissed. “And yet I know more than any dragon about RainWings and what they can do.” He gestured to his face. “And I can tell you that this was a fluke. RainWings are too stupid and cowardly to be dangerous. Most of you know I got this when I grabbed their queen — well, turns out, just one of their queens — stupid tribe — and she had no idea what she was doing, or I’d be dead. She didn’t even mean to spray me. They never do.” Vengeance shook his head, breathing loudly through his mouth. “They have Pyrrhia’s most powerful weapon and they’re too pathetic to use it.”

  “Maybe they were before this Glory came along,” said one of the other dragons. “From what Morrowseer says about her, she’s not as weak as the rest of them.”

  You have no idea, Starflight thought.

  “And it’s your fault they found out about us,” the diamond dragon said. “You’re the one who brought her here, even though Deathbringer warned us the dragonets were in the forest, and that we should stay away until they were gone.”

  “Deathbringer.” Vengeance smirked. “Oh, yeah. How is your pet, Greatness? I’ve heard a very interesting story about him.” He turned and beckoned with his tail.

  Starflight recognized the NightWing assassin who was dragged into the cave by four guards. It was starting to get crowded on the ledge by the door. Vengeance seized Deathbringer’s ear and virtually threw him onto the stone outcropping with Starflight. They knocked into each other and flung out their wings for balance.

  Deathbringer wasn’t much
bigger than Starflight, after all — he’d looked larger when he was attacking Queen Blaze and threatening Glory. But here, in the same lava predicament as Starflight, with everyone looking just as displeased with him, he seemed a lot less intimidating.

  “Ah,” he said to Starflight in a friendly way. “You’re here, too.” His eyes looked as if he wanted to ask something but didn’t dare.

  “This dragon,” Vengeance bellowed, pointing at Deathbringer. “This pet assassin of Princess Greatness was actually conspiring with the enemy. He is the one who brought the MudWing here and he helped them both to escape.”

  Princess, Starflight thought. So the diamond dragon — Greatness — speaks for her mother, for some reason.

  “Hang on,” Deathbringer said, hopping neatly over Starflight’s head so the dragonet was between him and Vengeance. He looked around at the other dragons and spread his wings with an innocent air. “Conspiring with the enemy? Do you have any proof?”

  “Yeah, I have witnesses,” Vengeance hissed. “One of the guards she attacked on the way out saw you helping them. And the guards you distracted from the tunnel so the MudWing could come through — they can tell us all about that.”

  A terrible silence followed. Starflight wondered whether they were all searching Deathbringer’s mind to find out what was true. He kept his own mind carefully blank, just in case.

  “Deathbringer,” said Greatness, twisting her diamond necklace in her front claws. “That kind of betrayal … the punishment is death.”

  The NightWing assassin spread his wings and bowed deeply toward the queen. “I swear I have only ever done what I thought would be best for my tribe.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Vengeance coughed wetly. “So why are all the dragonets still alive, then?”

  Deathbringer glanced under his wing and met Starflight’s eyes. There was a question in them, and this time Starflight guessed what it was. Are they? All still alive? Starflight nodded as imperceptibly as he could, and a look of relief flitted across Deathbringer’s face, then was gone.

  “My mission is not complete, it’s true,” Deathbringer said. “I need to return to the rainforest and —”

  “And betray us some more,” Vengeance suggested. “I bet you do.”

  Starflight noticed Greatness leaning toward the screen again, but most of the dragons were staring at Deathbringer and didn’t notice this time.

  “I assure you I’m a loyal NightWing,” Deathbringer said, his voice rising. “Perhaps I think it’s worth discussing whether we really need to kill these dragonets, but —”

  “You see?” roared Vengeance. “He’s —”

  “Vengeance!” Greatness shouted, cutting him off. She stood up on her ledge and spread her wings, revealing the silver scales glittering underneath like echoes of her diamonds. She puffed up her chest and contorted her face as if she was trying to appear menacing and regal, but it looked like a performance. Starflight still couldn’t see a future queen in her.

  “The queen has spoken,” Greatness said into the perilous silence. “Vengeance. You endangered the whole tribe. You disobeyed orders. You brought a viper to us disguised as a simple garden snake.”

  “Wait,” Vengeance cried. “What he did was worse! I just grabbed a RainWing, same as always! How could I know — she didn’t look no different than the others!”

  “And in addition,” said Greatness, “you are irritating the queen.” She flicked her tail, just the tiniest movement, at the guards in the doorway.

  “NO!” shrieked Vengeance. His wings flapped open, but he’d barely lifted off when the four guards grabbed him. With one swift heave, before Starflight even had time to blink, they hurled the scarred dragon into the lake of lava.

  Deathbringer shot up and out of the way as lava splashed all around them. Starflight didn’t move fast enough, and a bright orange droplet splattered on his foot. Burning pain flared through him, and he thought he might faint.

  Then a shape surged out of the lava — Vengeance, screaming and trying to escape as he was boiled alive.

  Deathbringer’s talons yanked Starflight into the air just in time. Lava sprayed in all directions as the dying dragon flailed his wings.

  “DON’T DO THIS! SAVE ME!” Vengeance howled.

  The guards stepped forward with expressionless faces. They were wearing a sort of armor, including helmets and thick plates over their underbellies, and they were all carrying wicked pronged spears like the one Glory had brought back to the rainforest.

  It was these spears they used to shove Vengeance back under the lava, and to hold him there until the thrashing stopped and the dark shape of the scarred dragon finally sank all the way below the bright gold-red surface and disappeared.

  After a long moment, Starflight remembered to breathe again. He glanced at Deathbringer, hovering in the air beside him. There was an unusually somber look on the assassin’s face, as if he’d just seen a glimpse of his possible future, and not in a magical prophetic vision sort of way.

  “Thank you, Majesty,” Deathbringer said at last, bowing toward the hidden queen.

  “Don’t, Deathbringer,” Greatness said, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat and looked away. “We’re not done with you.” She addressed the guards. “Take him to the dungeon. We’ll investigate the charges and then Her Majesty will decide what to do.”

  Deathbringer flew down to the guards and allowed them to push him out the door, only glancing back once to meet Starflight’s eyes with a look Starflight couldn’t decode.

  Maybe he expects me to have mind-reading abilities. Maybe he’s trying to send me a message.

  If so — sorry, Deathbringer. You picked the wrong dragon.

  Greatness rubbed the ridges above her eyes, looking tired. “All right, we need a break. If it’s your turn to eat this week, go do that now, and we’ll reconvene tonight.” She glanced around the room, leaned toward the screen again, and added, “The queen says to return at dusk with possible defensive and offensive strategies. Morrowseer, see if you can claw some more information out of the dragonet before then.”

  Morrowseer dipped his head, flexing his talons. Starflight hoped uneasily that she meant “claw” in a metaphorical way.

  The NightWings began to disperse, most of them through holes in the ceiling. Morrowseer jerked his head, and Starflight reluctantly followed him back into the tunnels.

  The mention of eating had reminded him of how hungry he was, although he couldn’t really worry about food when he wasn’t even sure if he was a prisoner or a spy or just a failure. And after what had happened to Vengeance, Starflight was pretty nervous about what the NightWings might do with a failure.

  Morrowseer’s wings billowed like thunderclouds as he stormed ahead of Starflight. Soon Starflight realized that they weren’t going back to the dormitory — Morrowseer had taken a turn somewhere, and now Starflight could see dim gray light up ahead.

  They emerged onto a shelf of rock that jutted from the side of the fortress. Below them was a weird landscape of rocks that looked like giant lumpy gray-black dragon scales with a fiery orange glowing underneath, filling in the cracks. A lava field, Starflight thought.

  He remembered a little about volcanoes from one of the scrolls he’d studied back under the mountain, what felt like a lifetime ago. But there weren’t any active volcanoes on the mainland of Pyrrhia, so he hadn’t memorized it like the other scrolls. It had never occurred to him that the NightWings, who’d written most of the scrolls, might have firsthand knowledge of volcanoes; might, in fact, be living on one.

  Starflight couldn’t see any caves or a lava river like the one Glory had described, so he guessed they were on the other side of the volcano. But the air was as smoky and gray as she’d said, and as hard to breathe. He still felt that raw scraped feeling all the way down his throat.

  Far overhead in the ashy sky, a pair of black dragons wheeled and circled, around and around, like vultures. Starflight wondered if they could see the mainland from up there. How fa
r was the island from the rest of Pyrrhia? Did the NightWings have a way to get there other than the secret animus-made tunnels to the rainforest?

  So many questions. His whole life, he’d been full of questions about the NightWings and their secret home, and now perhaps they could all be answered. He took a moment to think, I’m here. This is my home. This is my tribe. This is what I was looking for.

  But it didn’t feel true. This awful place was nothing like the NightWing utopia he’d always imagined. He’d pictured a beautiful hidden place full of art and music and dragons who loved to read, with spires reaching to the clouds, and waterfalls and sunlight and a library around every corner. Not this — the smoke and stench and hostility and gloomy surroundings.

  And even a million answers, even all the answers to all the questions he could think of, wouldn’t be able to take the place of Sunny and the other dragonets.

  Morrowseer stared across the lava field and inhaled several times, his nostrils flaring and his tongue slithering in and out. He did this for so long that Starflight began to wonder if there was something wrong with his nose.

  “Um,” Starflight squeaked at last.

  Morrowseer glared at him in the middle of a giant sniff.

  “J-just, um,” Starflight said. “I just want you to know I don’t know anything else. Really. About the RainWings attacking.” Almost immediately, his traitorous brain started clamoring, Except that Glory might be queen by now! And that RainWings are normally pacifists! And —

  He fixed his eyes on the mountain behind them and tried to think of nothing but lava.

  Morrowseer snorted. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “You’re just about the most useless spy I’ve ever met.” He spread his wings and inhaled once more. “Let’s go.”