Authors: Tui T. Sutherland
She wouldn’t believe me,
Moon realized.
If I went to Tsunami about the voices I heard, or my vision of Jade Mountain collapsing — she’d think I was lying. She doesn’t trust NightWings … or anyone who tries to tell her what to do, or what her future will be.
“But —” Winter started to protest.
“Who wants to go hunting?” Tsunami nearly shouted. “I know I do! Great idea, Tsunami! No arguing with the Head of School; off we go!” She shot off the ledge and whooshed away into the clouds.
Carnelian snorted. “I guess that discussion is over,” she said.
Moon let herself smile at the fact that fearless, awe-inspiring Tsunami had been the one to bolt, not her.
But her smile faded as Winter paced across the cave and stopped right in front of her. He studied her with his piercing gaze, almost as if
he
could read
her
mind if he just stared at her long enough. His scales were so bright and so cold, his eyes so weirdly blue and suspicious and angry and sad all at the same time.
“Hey, Winter, leave her alone,” Qibli said, sliding up next to Moon. “She’s not the enemy.”
“Pyrrhia is at peace now,” Turtle agreed. “There are no more enemies.”
Because the queens signed a peace agreement and accepted Thorn as the new SandWing queen
, Winter thought.
But there are some things that cannot be forgiven. That
should
not be forgiven. And we’re supposed to just sit back and let the NightWings get away with it?
It wasn’t
her,
though,
whispered another part of his mind.
But she’s still one of them.
“You say you don’t know anything,” Winter said, settling his wings. “But you know the other NightWings. You can find out the truth and come back to tell us. Right?”
Ha. They’d probably tell an IceWing all their secrets long before they ever trust me,
Moon thought. “Um,” she said. “Maybe?”
“I want to know everything about their powers,” he said. “Were they ever real? How do we know they’re gone? What else are they lying to us about?” He cleared his throat.
If I’m scary enough, she’ll do what I want,
his mind whispered
. That’s what Mother would say.
“I mean you. What else are
you
lying to us about?”
“Hey, igloo-face, that’s not cool,” Qibli barked.
“Yeah, Moon’s in our winglet,” Kinkajou said, bristling. “We’re supposed to support each other.”
“I’m with igloo-face,” Carnelian said. She stood up and stretched her massive wings, making Umber duck so he wouldn’t get whacked in the head. “If we’re supposed to get all snuggly with each other, there shouldn’t be any more secrets. Let’s make her tell us everything.” Her orange eyes glared at Moon, and an ominous image flashed through her head of Moon pinned under her talons.
“I wasn’t joking!” Tsunami yelled, swooping by outside. “We’re going hunting! Come on!”
Carnelian stalked to the ledge and leaped out. Umber glanced at the others —
Poor Moon,
he thought,
but I want to know the truth, too
— and then hurried after her.
Turtle shrugged. “Whatever you guys decide.” And a moment later he was gone as well, leaving Moon, Kinkajou, Qibli, and Winter facing off.
I’ll fight him if I have to,
Qibli was thinking fiercely.
He curls his claws like he relies on his front talons in fighting, so I’ll go for his shoulder first, slow him down without doing too much damage. Have to disable his snout to stop his frostbreath, too. Will Moon like it if I fight for her? Or is she the kind of dragon who would rather see me try a peaceful argument first? Kinkajou would like me either way. I like that about her. But I can’t even guess about Moon. Doesn’t seem like a fighter but she’s not scared in a normal way. Hope she stands up to him. She can’t let him get away with intimidating her like that.
On Moon’s other side:
It is SO WEIRD that I can’t tell what he’s feeling by looking at his scales!
Kinkajou thought, watching Winter.
His shiny, shiny, gorgeous scales. Don’t get distracted! No being mean to my new best friend, no matter how dazzling you are!
Moon blinked at Kinkajou, her fear shrinking. New best friend? Did she mean that? Or was Kinkajou the kind of dragon who had a new best friend every two minutes?
Either way, for
these
two minutes, at least, she had backup, even if she hadn’t done anything to earn it.
She turned and met Winter’s eyes, which felt a little like staring into a glacier. “All right,” she said. “But please stop trying to scare me.” She hesitated, and then, riding one of Qibli’s sharp observations, she added, “You are not as terrifying as you think you are.”
He took a surprised step back, his mind whirling.
Nice,
Kinkajou thought, grinning.
Take that.
Knew she was cool,
thought Qibli.
Stop
liking
her,
Winter ordered himself with an internal growl.
Remember what Father said: They’re all liars. Be strong, be vigilant, strike first. Trust nobody. Not even interesting NightWings with silver teardrop scales.
“Fine,” he said. “You find out the truth about NightWing powers …”
“And you stop threatening everybody,” Kinkajou said.
He paused, and then an unexpected expression creased his face. “Hey, I didn’t promise anything about everybody,” he said. “Just her. I have an IceWing warrior mystique to maintain, after all, come on.” He looked at Moon again, and then he turned and jumped out into the sky, flying after Tsunami and the others.
“I’m probably wrong,” Qibli said, “but I
think
my clawmate just made a joke. Is that possible?” Inside he was thinking,
Yes! I
knew
that dragon was in there, if I can just drag him out.
Moon returned his smile.
“You were totally hallucinating,” Kinkajou agreed. “Too many smokeberries.”
“Are you all right?” Qibli asked Moon.
She nodded. She was more all right than she’d been in months. Mind reading was one thing — one awful thing — when you were surrounded by dragons who hated you, as she had been in the NightWing village. But when you were with dragons who actually liked you, or wanted to like you, for whatever mysterious reason … well, she didn’t expect it to last (
What happens if they find out the truth about me?
), but for now, it was kind of great.
“What’s a smokeberry?” Qibli asked Kinkajou as they started toward the ledge.
“Oh, they’re crazy,” Kinkajou said. “I had some while the RainWing healers were working on my wing injury. They gave me the wildest hallucinations — flying panthers, quetzals the size of dragons, scavengers with superpowers. You name it, I saw everything.”
They soared into the sky. Moon started to follow them, but stopped on the ledge, feeling the wind whip around her. Up in the clear, cloudless sky, her new friends were diving and whirling like flower petals in a rainforest storm, gold and scarlet and green and pale blue.
Don’t get too comfortable, little Moon,
said the whispering voice softly.
Even mind readers can be taken by surprise when they think they know whom to trust.
The dragons who like you now are the ones most likely to betray you.
Believe me. I know.
Moon rose through the sky, feeling the paper-soft brush of thin clouds parting around her dark wings. It was quieter up here, but not quiet enough. She wondered how high she’d have to get before she couldn’t hear anyone anymore. She wondered if it was possible to get high enough that even her mystery friend couldn’t reach her mind.
A furry smell caught her attention, and she spun to study the ground. There — a mountain goat clambering between two rocks, behind a screen of straggly bushes.
Moon glanced around, but Tsunami and most of the others were circling over a glassy lake, looking for fish. The closest dragon to Moon was Qibli, who was trying extremely hard to seem as if he wasn’t watching her. Carnelian was within shouting distance, drifting on her vast wings, but Moon wasn’t about to do any shouting, and certainly not to get the grumpy SkyWing’s attention.
Guess that means this goat is mine,
she thought with a tiny bit of glee.
Swooping suddenly into a dive, Moon plummeted down toward the ground. Below her, the goat saw her shadow coming and let out a bleating scream of fear. It scrambled quickly up the rocks and tried to leap into a narrow ravine, where dragons would not be able to follow.
But it wasn’t fast enough. Moon twisted in a quick spiral and snatched the goat in midair, whisking it back up into the sky and killing it in one motion with a squeeze of her claws.
“Wow!” Qibli shouted from above her. “How did you
do
that? Carnelian, did you see that?”
The SkyWing flew closer, eyeing the dead goat jealously. “I thought NightWings didn’t know how to hunt.”
“I thought so, too,” Kinkajou chimed in. The RainWing sailed up from a bramble-covered slope. Her snout was stained with dark purple blackberry juice. “Starflight told me they do this thing where they bite their prey and then wait for it to die of infection and then they sniff it out and eat the dead things. It sounds super horrible, like, even worse than regular hunting.”
“Gross,” Qibli agreed.
“They’re not supposed to do that anymore,” Moon said. “Glory and Deathbringer are teaching them how to hunt properly. And I just, I, um — taught myself to hunt in the rainforest…. Mother was always leaving me alone, so … I kind of had to.” She held out the goat. “Um — maybe we can share it?”
“Really?” Qibli said. “That would be great. I’m going to need more practice to figure out how to hunt here. The land is all
folded
and squiggly. Too many hiding places. Give me a big flat desert and some half-asleep sunbathing lizards any day.”
Moon guessed it wouldn’t take him long to master hunting in the mountains. His eyes were darting across the landscape below them and he was storing away observations in neat stacks in his mind. He was also trying to gauge whether she meant it about sharing the goat, and whether she’d like him better if he was self-sufficient or if he accepted her offer with appropriate gratitude.
“I can catch my own food,” Carnelian said stiffly. She swung away, broadcasting offended thoughts. Moon winced.
“Nice work, Moon,” Tsunami called. “We’ve caught a few things, too. Let’s take all this back to the prey center and eat there.” Another SeaWing, this one a blue-green adult dragon with a scar on his side, had joined them with a net, which was now full of squirming fish. He hefted it in his talons and nodded to Tsunami, who tilted her wings and soared back toward Jade Mountain.
The others followed her, one by one, with Moon flapping slowly at the back. The goat was heavy; it smelled of meat and the blood that had left dark red streaks on her claws. But the thought of going back into the prey center was enough to make her lose her appetite. The noise, the memory of everyone staring at her … She was tempted to get lost on the way.
If you are always cowering in a cave alone, you’ll be wasting your powers completely,
the voice muttered.
Easy for you to say,
Moon shot back.
Clearly
you
don’t get splitting headaches every time you walk into a crowd.
Why has no one taken care of you?
the voice wondered.
Even if the skills are lost, there must be scrolls about coping techniques.
No one thinks I need scrolls like that, even if they do still exist,
Moon pointed out.
If anyone found out what I can do, I’d probably be thrown out of the tribe. I’d definitely be thrown out of school. I’d probably be thrown off the peak of Jade Mountain, or into the ocean. This is not a popular power to have right now, is what I’m trying to say.
You don’t need to be popular if you’re powerful.
The voice chuckled. Then it stilled for a moment, and added musingly,
Although perhaps a little more popularity would have been helpful in my situation.
Another thoughtful pause.
In any case, listen and perhaps I can help.
I’m listening.
Imagine the sound of ocean waves.
I’ve never heard ocean waves,
Moon admitted.
What?
the voice demanded.
Were you raised under a mountain? Fine, then — some other repetitive, soothing noise.
Moon caught a wind current and tilted her wings, shifting the goat’s weight between her talons.
Would rain work?
Yes. Exactly. Fill your head with rain.
Moon thought of all the long, lonely days and nights she’d spent hidden in her fern burrow, listening to the rain patter on the leaves all around her. Watching the raindrops slowly drip from the ends of the curled fronds onto her tail. Wishing she could hear the approaching whoosh of her mother’s wings instead.
You tragic little dragon,
the voice said sympathetically.
I’m
not
a tragic little dragon,
Moon protested.
I’m lucky. I didn’t have to grow up on the volcano. Mother saved me.
Mmmmm. She seems to have a lot of opinions about what’s best for you, none of which involve finding out your preferences first.
Before Moon could defend her mother, he went on.
Now hold on to that falling rain sound, and then imagine that you’re taking each voice you hear and slipping it inside one of the raindrops. Do that as you enter a cave full of dragons, and after a minute all their insignificant mental howling will be drowned in the downpour.
Moon concentrated for a minute.
The voice chuckled in her mind again.
Oh, it won’t work with mine, dragonet. I’m not so easily submerged. Go try it on that yammering RainWing, or the frenetically intelligent, strangely desperate SandWing.
Moon wanted to ask what he meant by calling Qibli desperate, but she could see the opening to the prey center below her. Winter and Turtle were already gliding down to the entrance, and beyond them she could see the flash of scales and milling tails; the prey center was as busy today as yesterday, if not more so. She needed to master this new trick right away.
She beat her wings to soar closer to Kinkajou, whose mind was going,
I wonder what we’ll do after lunch — oo, maybe reading practice! Or history! Or music! Sunny says the SandWings are a surprisingly musical tribe. Kind of hard to imagine Qibli singing, I must say. Ha ha, imagine Winter singing! I wonder if he can scowl and sing and look darkly handsome and mortally offended all at the same time. Probably. Oh, I have to remember to take Tamarin to where the blackberry bushes are. I hope Glory visits us soon.
Moon imagined collapsing Kinkajou’s thoughts into a raindrop and whisking them into the quiet background storm.
It almost seemed to work, until Kinkajou spotted her, turned pink, and grinned. Her mind went,
MOON! She’s so funny. All quiet on the outside but secretly a total fierce-face.
It is more difficult when the thoughts are specifically about you,
the voice in Moon’s head pointed out.
And easier when there are many voices at once. This works best in a crowded room, not so well in a two-dragon conversation. Also, it takes practice.
I’ll practice,
Moon vowed. She angled her wings and swooped down toward the prey center, side by side with Kinkajou. The hubbub of thoughts rose up to envelop her.
Totally hungry …
Why must I be in the same cave as her?
What did I just eat?
If that MudWing makes ONE MORE grotesque slurping noise —
The dragonets weren’t
in
the war; it’s easy for
them
to talk about forgiveness.
This papaya tastes boring. I guess I normally like papaya. But this one is sort of boring all the way through. Like eating water. Boring water. I wonder when it will be sun time. Maybe I should try a different papaya after this one. But what if the next papaya is boring, too?
That last train of thought was clearly coming from Coconut. Moon seized his thoughts and slid them into the sound of rain in her mind.
It worked! She waited a minute to be sure she couldn’t hear him anymore, and then did a delighted flip in the sky before landing outside the cave.
Kinkajou laughed. “You look happy all of a sudden.”
“Just figuring something out,” Moon said. Coconut and his meaningless thoughts were one thing; they were practically background noise already. She reached out to grab the nearest SeaWing’s thoughts —
Webs brought us fish! I could eat his tail, I’m so hungry!
— and tried the same trick.
Her mental voice melted into the noise like just another raindrop.
This is amazing,
Moon thought.
Thank you.
It is the first trick a mind reading dragonet learns,
the voice said.
Otherwise they could go mad. You should have had these lessons soon after hatching. It is rather a wonder you’re as tenuously sane as you are.
Very funny
, Moon thought back.
But seriously, I was alone most of the time, so it was never this bad before. Luckily I didn’t need to shut out the sloths and toucans.
She noticed Kinkajou watching her curiously. “Are you all right?” the RainWing asked. “You looked like your head was taking a walk on one of the moons for a minute.”
“What does that look like?” Moon asked.
Kinkajou’s scales turned purplish-black; she wrinkled her nose and gave the tip of the mountain a glassy-eyed stare.
“Talons and tails,” Moon said, giggling, “please tell me I don’t really make that face.”
“FISH!” shouted several dragons inside the prey center. The SeaWing with the net had dropped it on the cave floor, leaving large silver fish flopping across the stone. A horde of dragons descended on it at once.
Moon and Kinkajou edged past the flapping mass of wings and found a spot near the river where Moon could slice up her goat while Kinkajou raided the fruit pile.
Raindrops,
Moon thought, battling the noise in her head. She took a deep breath.
It’s all raindrops.
She was concentrating so hard that she jumped when Qibli swept up and sat down next to her.
“Sorry,” he said, tilting his wings away from her. “You said — the goat, remember? But if you changed your mind, no worries; I can go wrestle for a fish instead.”
Another fish, how unappealing. Not sure I’ll ever get used to slimy wet sea creatures sliding down my throat. But I don’t want her to think I can’t feed myself — maybe I’m not that hungry —
“No, of course, here,” Moon said. She used her claws to slice away half of the goat and pushed it toward him.
“I could totally get a fish away from all those dragons,” Qibli informed her. “In case you were wondering. If living in the rainforest on your own makes you good at hunting, then let me tell you, being a dragonet in the Scorpion Den with a family who hates you makes you really good at stealing, fighting, scrounging, and tricking dragons into looking the other way while you nab their roasted camels.”
“Why did your family hate you?” Moon asked.
“Oh.” He looked awkward for a minute. “They sort of hate everyone. It’s no big deal.”
Moon could sense that it had certainly been a big deal for the first three years of his life, at least. The pace of his conscious thoughts slowed for a moment, and she caught a flash of his mother, a large SandWing with snakelike patterns down her spine, hissing at tiny Qibli and two other, bigger dragonets. She saw his brother and sister beating him and threatening him with their venomous tails, just to steal his talonful of date palms. She saw an old male SandWing, radiating authority, stalking through to inspect them with beady black eyes. She saw little Qibli offering a stolen coconut to his mother, his face hopeful, and she saw him thrown against a wall for weakness instead.
None of that was going to fit in a raindrop.