The Lost Heir, Page 8

  Waves pounded the rocks, roaring like angry dragons and spraying salt water over everyone who was clustered around the queen on smaller rocks.

  Tsunami found a jagged black rock the right size for her and clambered up. For a moment she just breathed, happy not to be moving. She had no idea how she’d make it back to the Summer Palace. Deal with that later. Far off to the north, she saw a bank of dark clouds huddled on the horizon, muttering and flashing.

  “She’s been dead a day or two,” Shark said grimly. “Killed quite violently, by the looks of it.”

  Tsunami glanced down at the broken red body snagged on the rocks. Shark was leaning over the corpse, inspecting the deep slashes across the throat. He shook his head and stepped back.

  A bolt of shock and terror shot through Tsunami.

  She knew this SkyWing.

  It was Kestrel, the dragon who’d raised them.

  Kestrel was dead. And somebody had clearly murdered her.

  “

  Tell.

  Don’t tell.

  Mother needs to know who it is.

  But what if she thinks we killed her?

  Tsunami didn’t know what to do. It was too strange a coincidence, Kestrel turning up dead a few islands away at the same time as the dragonets arriving at the Summer Palace. If Tsunami admitted she knew her, wouldn’t her mother’s first thought be that the dragonets had killed her themselves?

  After the way her friends had been looking at her lately, Tsunami didn’t want to risk getting a similar reaction from her mother . . . the “What kind of dragon are you really?” and “Can you be trusted?” and “Who else might you attack?” looks.

  She worried about it all the way back to the Summer Palace — mercifully, they flew back, giving Tsunami’s swimming muscles a rest — but in the bustle of orders and flying messengers, there wasn’t a moment to talk to the queen on her own anyway.

  Back at the palace, Queen Coral told Tsunami to wait for her and took a few Council dragons off for a war meeting. Tsunami sat on one of the pavilion pillars, watching dragons dart about.

  Who would kill Kestrel? Apart from Glory or me, that is?

  She glanced at the cave where her friends were being held, where guards were still posted outside. She knew she should go check on the other dragonets . . . but what would they think when they heard about Kestrel?

  What if her friends decided it wasn’t safe here? Starflight might convince the others that Kestrel’s murderer could be nearby, waiting to kill them, too. He’d talk them into leaving the Kingdom of the Sea, and Tsunami wasn’t ready for that.

  They were all too mad at her right now to listen to sense. And they were probably pretty grumpy about being stuck in a guarded cave all afternoon, too.

  It’d be better to wait and tell them every thing after they had a chance to see how wonderful it could be here. Tomorrow she’d ask her mother to bring them out for a feast or something, and that would cheer up at least a couple of them.

  Yes. That’s a better plan. Avoid them until tomorrow, then tell them every thing.

  Besides, she was so, so tired. Darkness had fallen as they flew back to the Summer Palace, and now the cavern was lit only by trails of glowing jellyfish in the water below. Not that it mattered to SeaWings, who could see in the dark, but her friends probably wouldn’t be too thrilled about having no light either. Another argument that could wait until tomorrow.

  She was relieved when the queen finally came down from the Council level and led her across the lake. Queen Coral’s chambers at the Summer Palace were in a vast underwater cave below one of the waterfalls, lined with waving tendrils of forest green and brilliant gold anemones. Stone carvings of dolphins danced around the entrance. The walls were studded with emeralds and pearls, and the beds were soft expanses of bubbly seaweed.

  A bed was already made up for Tsunami next to Anemone’s. She collapsed onto it with a sigh. Sleeping underwater on comfortable seaweed instead of a hard ledge of stone was even more wonderful than she’d ever imagined.

  She fell asleep to the sound of the waterfall splashing overhead and didn’t wake up until the next morning.

  When she opened her eyes, she found the pale pinkish-blue head of Anemone leaning over her. Tsunami yelped and leaped back, crashing into the stone wall and bouncing off it in a stream of bubbles. She had a wild, brief moment of thinking Anemone had been about to kill her, and then her sister waved her talons and made a shushing gesture.

  Anemone pointed at Queen Coral, who was still asleep. She clasped her talons in front of her and flashed some of the stripes along her wings and tail.

  Sorry, little sister. Tsunami spread her front talons and shook her head. I wish I could.

  Anemone flashed her stripes again, then smacked her head, remembering that Tsunami didn’t know Aquatic. She frowned in frustration.

  Tsunami felt equally frustrated. They couldn’t sneak off to the surface to talk; Anemone was trapped here by the harness tethering her to the queen. And Tsunami couldn’t communicate underwater. They’d never have a chance to talk privately.

  She swam over to her sister and studied the harness. It was made of a stretchy, gummy, clear material that seemed to cling to Anemone’s scales, as if it had grown along with her. It probably has, Tsunami thought, wondering if the poor dragonet would have to wear this until she was Tsunami’s age, or even older.

  When Tsunami tugged on it lightly, Anemone shook her head. She mimed trying to wriggle out of the harness and pointed to the queen again. Not possible without waking her up, Tsunami guessed. If it’s even possible at all.

  Anemone carefully eased toward the entrance, glancing back at the queen. The cord between them uncoiled. The little dragonet lifted off the floor and swam up toward the top of the door, stretching the leash to its full length. She beckoned Tsunami after her.

  Where the waterfall met the lake, just behind the cascade and right outside the cave entrance, there was a small pocket of air. At the end of her leash, Anemone was barely able to reach it with her snout. Tsunami popped her head out beside her.

  “Clever,” Tsunami said, glancing around. Here they were also hidden from view, if any SeaWings were out and about this early in the Summer Palace.

  “I hope she doesn’t wake up,” Anemone said. She blinked at Tsunami for a moment, then burst out, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!” She reached out one of her front talons, and Tsunami pressed it like they had the day before.

  “Really?” Tsunami said, astonished. But aren’t we rivals? If I’m here, doesn’t that threaten your chance at the throne?

  “Maybe you can make her less crazy,” Anemone said in a whisper. “Or maybe she’ll set me free now that she has you. Maybe you could talk to her. I need to get out of this harness. Tsunami, you have no idea how awful my life has been.”

  Tsunami stared at her, hearing the echo of her own words. “Your life has been awful?” she said. “You can’t even imagine awful. Try being raised under a mountain with no ocean or proper sunlight and only a river to swim in. Try being raised by three dragons who hate you and treat you like a blobby tadpole.”

  “I am treated like a tadpole,” Anemone protested. “Mother doesn’t trust me to do anything by myself.”

  “You’re only, what, one year old?” Tsunami guessed. “I’m sure that’ll change.” Well, I’m mostly sure. Halfway sure. “And at least she cares about you.”

  “She cares about me way too much,” Anemone said. “I never get to do anything except whatever she’s doing. At least you have friends. I never even see any other dragonets.”

  “Well, I was sort of stuck with those four,” Tsunami said. “And they’re always arguing with me or getting mad about something.” She felt a pang of guilt about not visiting them the night before. They must be wondering where she’d gone.

  Well, maybe if they miss me for a while, they’ll be more pleased to see me when I do show up.

  “They seem great,” Anemone said wistfully. “I always wanted
brothers and sisters.”

  “Don’t you have brothers?”

  She snorted. “Yes, but Mother thinks they play too rough, and she won’t let them near me. My cousins are all possible suspects in her mind, except Moray, who’s perfect and boring and old and can do no wrong. And nonroyal dragonets aren’t special enough for me to play with.” Anemone sighed, blowing bubbles across the water at Tsunami.

  “I guess my friends are all right when they’re not complaining,” Tsunami admitted. “They complain a lot, though.”

  “I tried complaining once,” Anemone said with a stab of venom in her voice. “Mother nearly got me a gag to match the harness.”

  “At least somebody loves you,” Tsunami said. “And you’re with your own kind. And you know your own stupid language.”

  “She loves you, too,” Anemone offered. She paused, glancing down into the cave. Queen Coral was still fast asleep, her blue scales rising and falling smoothly. “I hope you’ll take Whirlpool,” Anemone blurted. “Three moons, I was so sure I’d have to marry him. But now you’re here, and you can have him and that’ll be much better.”

  “No way!” Tsunami said, lashing her tail. “No, no, no.” An image of Riptide flashed in her head, which was ridiculous, because she hardly knew him either. “Absolutely not. First of all, I don’t have time to get married. I have to stop the war and save the world.” And/or learn how to be queen of the SeaWings. “Second of all, that dragon? No, thank you. I’d rather have my tail nibbled off by snapping turtles.”

  Anemone giggled. “He’s dreadful, isn’t he?”

  “Your Smaller Majesties,” Tsunami smarmed, imitating his fake grin and tiny bow.

  Anemone had to stick her head under the water so her giggling wouldn’t shake the harness and wake the queen.

  “Anyway, Mother can’t decide who we marry,” Tsunami said.

  “Really?” Anemone said doubtfully. “She gets to decide every thing else.”

  “We’re royalty,” Tsunami pointed out. “Meaning we do whatever we want.”

  “Gosh, that is not what I’ve seen,” Anemone said. “More like ‘we’re royalty, so we only get to do what historical SeaWing queens would approve of us doing, for the good of our subjects, for the honor of the throne, for the YAWN, CLAW ME TO DEATH ALREADY.’”

  Tsunami laughed, but her gills felt choked and her scales prickled uncomfortably. She’d never thought of royalty that way. Did queens really have to worry about honor and other dragons’ approval?

  What would happen if a SeaWing queen — or potential queen — decided to, say, marry someone the rest of the tribe disapproved of? Or chose not to get married at all?

  It would be harder to rule subjects who didn’t respect you. Tsunami had enough trouble with her usual four. She imagined a whole grumbling tribe full of Glorys and Starflights. But no one would dare argue with the queen, would they? Maybe it depended on the kind of queen you were. No one argued with Scarlet in the SkyWings, that was for sure.

  But Scarlet was murderous and insane. Not exactly the role model I want to follow.

  She stretched her wings out to feel the splashing of the waterfall. Outside their hidden spot, she could hear the quiet noises of the Summer Palace waking up. Dragon wings fluttered overhead. Bubbles burbled up from underwater caves where most of the SeaWings were sleeping. Pots clattered on the kitchen level of the pavilion, reminding her of how hungry she was.

  “Uh-oh,” Anemone whispered, glancing down. “I think she’s waking up. We’d better go back in.”

  Tsunami hesitated. Should she go visit her friends now? But what would her mother think if she woke up and found Tsunami gone?

  “All right,” she said, “but I have one more question. What happened to Orca?” If Anemone could tell her, she could put off going to ask Starflight about it.

  Anemone’s pink-tinted wings shivered under the water. “She challenged Mother for the throne when she was only seven years old,” she whispered. “Everyone says it was horrible. She nearly won, but Mother killed her in the end.” She glanced down again. “It’s weird. Mother worships her and misses her, but lots of dragons still hate Orca for nearly kill ing their queen. Don’t ever mention her name around Moray.”

  “Moray,” Tsunami echoed. “She seems —”

  “Drippy? Fatuous? About as interesting as sea slime?”

  “I was going to say odd,” Tsunami laughed. “But those work, too.”

  “Uh-oh!” Anemone vanished below the water. Tsunami followed her, swimming back to her bed a few moments before Queen Coral opened her eyes. The queen sat up and stirred the water with her wings as she stretched. She beamed at Tsunami and Anemone, reaching to stroke their heads gently with her talons.

  The queen gathered her strands of pearls from the coral branch where they’d hung during the night. Carefully she draped them around herself again, then decorated Anemone the same way.

  Tsunami hadn’t taken off the one she’d been given the day before. Her mother smiled at this and produced another long strand of pearls, these a shimmering pale purple and oddly shaped instead of round.

  With expert talons, Queen Coral wound them around Tsunami’s chest and wings. They were beautiful, but it was strange to have something weighing her down. Tsunami felt almost as if she was wearing a harness of trea sure. She wasn’t about to complain, though. The Talons of Peace had never given the dragonets beautiful things.

  Finally the queen beckoned for them to follow her to the pavilion.

  Tsunami wasn’t sure how she felt about being treated the same as Anemone, a one-year-old dragonet. But she did like how her mother kept patting her, as if she wanted to make sure Tsunami was real.

  As they flew up to the pavilion, Tsunami saw several guards clustered on one of the lowest levels, half of them sleeping and half of them drinking something steaming out of handheld cauldrons. She noticed that they looked well fed, well rested, and content, not thin and grumpy like Queen Scarlet’s guards in the SkyWing palace. Proof that my mother is a better queen than Scarlet, Tsunami thought.

  When Queen Coral landed on the Council level, a flurry of wingbeats sounded all over the palace. Council members swept down from caves or surged up from the water below. Coral settled herself in the largest pool, which was labeled QUEEN. She tugged Anemone into the water with her, although it was a bit of a squeeze, and the little dragonet had to curl under the queen’s wing.

  “Mother,” Anemone protested. “Quit squashing me.” She wriggled around until there was a little more space for her.

  Small turquoise dragons darted in with platters of food, laying them all around the pools as Council members slipped into their places. Tsunami stood awkwardly to the side. She felt like her tail and wings were in the way of every thing.

  “Oh,” said Queen Coral, finally noticing. “Tsunami, you can sit there. Tortoise is guarding the hatchery at the Deep Palace, so she won’t be joining us today.” The queen pointed her claw at a pool two down from hers, labeled DRAGONET CARE in tiny emeralds. The wet stone was chilly under Tsunami’s talons as she climbed into it.

  The pools on either side of the queen said DEFENSE and COMMUNICATION. Shark splashed down in the first one, and a moment later, Moray landed in the other.

  “Good morning, Your Majesty,” Moray said, bowing and dipping her wings. “I know yesterday was a shocking day, but I hope you slept well. I worried about you all night.”

  “Thank you, dear,” said the queen. Her eyes were scanning the rest of the Council. Whirlpool flew up beside Moray. His pool was labeled MAGIC & PUBLISHING. Tsunami tilted her head at him. How did one become an expert in either of those things? What kind of magic did he know anything about?

  She glanced around, wondering if there was a pool for the king, but she didn’t see one. Queen Coral hadn’t said anything about Tsunami’s father yesterday, and in all the excitement about Kestrel’s body, Tsunami hadn’t had a chance to ask. Maybe he was at the Deep Palace. Maybe she could meet him later today.
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  She remembered some of the Council from the day before — the plump dragon, Lagoon, who’d been sent to feed the other dragonets, sat in a pool marked AQUACULTURE. Piranha, the one who’d gone with Shark to examine and dispose of Kestrel’s body, was in WAR. Tsunami didn’t know any of the other dragons’ names, but from where she sat she could see the labels TREASURY, JUSTICE, and HUNTING.

  She didn’t really understand this “Council” business. She wasn’t sure what they did or why they were necessary. Wasn’t it enough to have a queen? Couldn’t Coral just decide every thing herself?

  That’s what I’d do, she thought. I’ll get rid of this Council and run the tribe like a proper queen. Maybe it worked for Coral, but Tsunami didn’t need or want eleven dragons following her around offering advice all the time.

  Her stomach rumbled, and she tried to remember when she’d last eaten. The platters around her were loaded with raw ruby-red fish, most of it sliced and deboned and arranged into fancy rolls with seaweed. She’d only ever eaten fish raw and whole, or sometimes scorched when her friends decided to set their dinner on fire.

  A few cauldrons held seething mountains of tiny green crabs. Three large bowls contained some kind of salad of octopus tentacles and herbs that Tsunami had never seen before.

  She plucked out one of the tentacles and tasted it. It was rubbery but sweet, with a tang like lemons and salt. She reached for another one and realized the whole Council was staring at her. Nobody else had started eating yet.

  Oops.

  All the Council eyes swiveled toward the queen, who was staring at the bit of octopus in Tsunami’s claws. Coral shook herself and smiled.

  “It’s all right,” the queen said, clapping her talons together. “Naturally I forgive my long-lost daughter any accidental impudence. As we all know, she was raised by barbarians, so she couldn’t know any better. I give you all permission to eat.”

  Tsunami crushed the tentacle between her claws. Raised by barbarians! Perhaps it was true, but what a thing to say to Tsunami’s future subjects. They’d think of her as the dragon who knew nothing about SeaWing customs. How would she ever earn their respect with that reputation?