Three of his minions circled him, breathing trails of flame that lit Vulture’s face with a terrifying orange glow. The battling dragons pulled away from one another, looking up at him, and silence fell across the palace grounds.
“Have we really come to this?” Vulture said in his hypnotic voice. “SandWings fighting SandWings? So soon after the war that tore our tribe apart?” He swept his wings out to encompass all of them. “Look how divided we are! Do you know why we fight each other?”
Because you attacked the palace? Qibli thought, frowning.
“Because we are ruled by a false queen,” Vulture boomed. “One who does not deserve this palace! She doesn’t care about anyone but herself! She stole this throne to make herself rich! She’s been letting SandWings die all over her kingdom without lifting a talon to save them. A real monarch would keep you safe. A good ruler would find the dragons responsible and protect you all! We need someone who will see the danger clearly! Our tribe is under attack, fellow SandWings!”
“Yes!” Qibli yelled. “By you!”
Vulture turned his dark, haunting eyes toward the balcony and Qibli had to tense every muscle in his body to keep from trembling.
“You see that? My grandson, once a loyal follower of Thorn, agrees with me,” he said smoothly. “He knows I am the one who sees the danger and I am the one who can protect you all.”
“That’s not what I said!” Qibli shouted furiously.
“Because I have found the threat,” Vulture announced, speaking right over Qibli. “I know who is attacking us, my fellow SandWings! It is the MudWings, and I have proof!”
Qibli felt the force of the gasp that went up around the crowd like a punch in his stomach.
“We caught one of the MudWing infiltrators and forced him to confess,” said Vulture. “Then we took the last of his weapons and came here, knowing my Talons of Power were the only ones who could protect the kingdom.” He brandished the Eye of Onyx like a bolt of lightning he was ready to hurl into the ground. “My friends, it is time for a new ruler of the SandWings!”
Where is Onyx? Qibli wondered. Why is she letting Vulture do all the speechifying? He hasn’t even mentioned her yet. Has he cut her out? Left her behind? Is he planning to take the throne for himself? He glanced around, searching the crowds of dragons. Or is she here — and if so, what is she up to?
“Vulture.” Queen Thorn’s voice was calm but clear, carrying across the palace and into the desert beyond. “Enough.”
Everyone turned to look for her.
The queen stood in the balcony of the Whispering Tower — a tall, thin tower that had been used by queens for hundreds of years to make speeches to her tribe. It was designed for perfect acoustics, so even dragons outside the palace would be able to hear her. Burn had never used it; she did not see the point of giving speeches, and she did not have a tribe unified enough to listen to her anyway.
“If you have illegally taken a MudWing into custody, I suggest you bring him here for questioning before spreading dangerous rumors. And if you have a serious challenger for the SandWing throne, let’s take this to the dueling grounds.”
“We don’t need to duel,” said Vulture. “We have the Eye of Onyx! The symbol of royal power!”
“It’s much more than a symbol,” Thorn said quietly, firmly. “It’s animus-touched. And that is not the Eye of Onyx.” She lifted off her necklace and held up a black sphere encircled by golden wings. “What you hold is a replica I keep in my treasury to fool thieves — and save their lives. This is the real Eye of Onyx.”
Vulture narrowed his eyes at her, and even from a distance, Qibli recognized the look his grandfather got when he was tricked — and ready for vengeance.
Please be careful, Thorn, he begged in his head.
“Why should we believe that’s the real one?” Vulture demanded. His talons caressed the sphere he held as if it was an egg — but an egg that could hatch out unimaginable power instead of a dragonet.
“Because,” she said, “the Eye of Onyx will kill anyone unworthy who tries to steal it and the throne.” A small smile crossed her face. “And it hasn’t killed me yet.”
Vulture eyed the jewel in his claws suspiciously. Everyone could hear the implication in Thorn’s words: If that was the real Eye of Onyx, you would be dead.
“Oh,” Winter said quietly beside Qibli. “I bet that’s where her name comes from. Onyx for the Eye of Onyx — a clue to her royal heritage.”
Qibli was still frantically searching the SandWings in the sky and the ones that had spilled through the palace walls. She had to be here somewhere. And if he couldn’t see her, she could be doing anything …
There!
It was only a flicker of movement, but it was enough to catch his attention — a twitch of a tail tip against the stone of the Whispering Tower, a hint of a dragon slowly slithering up beneath the queen.
“THORN!” Qibli shrieked, launching himself off the balcony toward her. “Look out! She’s right below you!”
He dove toward the hidden dragon just as she reared up into the moonlight. Her venomous tail plunged toward the queen’s heart, and Qibli felt his own heart shudder and freeze.
Not Thorn. Not Thorn. Not Thorn.
But his warning had worked. Thorn was already spinning toward Onyx as she attacked. She smacked Onyx’s tail out of the way with her own and shoved Onyx backward off the tower. Onyx’s wings shot out to stop her fall, but before she could right herself, seven Outclaws were on her, including Qibli, seizing her limbs and tail and holding her in the air.
“Don’t hurt her,” Thorn ordered from above them. “Yet.”
Qibli looked up at her in disbelief. “She just tried to kill you!” he protested.
Onyx snarled at him. “I’m only taking what’s mine,” she hissed. “My throne, my crown.”
“If you really think it should be yours, then fight me for it like a true queen would,” Thorn scoffed. “This crown will never fall to a sneaking, skulking shadow killer.”
“Fine,” Onyx spat, twisting free from one of the guards. “I am the granddaughter of Queen Oasis and the true heir to this throne. I challenge you.”
Shocked murmurs ran through the crowd of watching dragons, but Thorn just grinned at Onyx.
“Anytime,” said Thorn. “Let’s take this to the palace stadium. That’s where duels for the throne have always been fought — but maybe you already know that.” She swept her wing toward the arena that took up a back corner of the palace grounds. Since Thorn had become queen, Qibli had only seen it used for games and moon festivals. He hadn’t realized it had such a dark history.
How many queens have spilled their blood on those sands?
Is my queen going to be one of them?
“Release her,” Thorn ordered, flicking her tail. She leaped aloft as the Outclaws reluctantly let go of Onyx.
“I’m taking my throne right now,” Onyx growled, jabbing her tail at the dragons who had held her. “And then you will be the first ones I punish.” She whirled in the air and dove toward the stadium, sending dragons scattering out of her flight path.
Qibli looked back at Vulture, who was rubbing his chin and studying the false Eye of Onyx.
He thought it would be enough to come and take it. He hoped that holding it would be enough to make him king. I bet he was going to cut out Onyx, if he could, after she killed Thorn for him.
But now, knowing the real stone might kill him … he’s not going to take that risk. Not right now; not if he can throw Onyx into the fire first to see what happens.
If she wins, he thinks he can control her. He’s cleverly surrounded her with dragons who are loyal to him first and foremost. She doesn’t have an army of her own.
But she can’t win.
I can’t let her win.
Qibli felt a cold breeze sweep up behind him and turned in the air to see Winter. “What if the Eye chooses Onyx?” he blurted before the IceWing could speak. “It’ll know that she’s Smolder’s dau
ghter, won’t it?”
Winter’s expression said volumes more than any words he could have spoken. He’s sure that Onyx will win, Qibli realized. Of course he believes in the monarchy, in the line of succession and royal blood. That’s how his family is defined, how his whole tribe is organized. He might even think Onyx should win, Qibli realized with a surge of fury.
He turned away, unable to look at Winter’s face a moment longer. They swept down toward the stadium in a whirling cloud of wings. Every dragon wanted to see what would happen. There were few left alive who could remember the last time the Eye of Onyx had been used in a proper challenge for the throne — although everyone remembered very clearly how it had killed Blister only a few months earlier in the palace courtyard.
The stadium was designed like an oval amphitheater, built of sandstone, with no roof. The benches rose like steps from the ground upward, and at the top, sturdy poles could be folded out to add more places for additional audience members to perch. The wall at the bottom still had barely faded paintings on it from the last moon festival — dark blue backgrounds covered with white and gold stars and circles.
Qibli managed to elbow his way to a seat in the front row, using his smaller size to slip under the wings of larger dragons. As he settled, drawing his tail safely under him, he saw a flurry of SandWings moving aside for Smolder and Blaze to land in the front row as well, not far away from him. They both looked confused and anxious.
Unlike Queen Scarlet’s gladiator arena, this one had no royal box, no special platform for the royal family. Queen Thorn usually sat wing to wing with her subjects, singing and sharing shish kebobs and throwing coins at the best dancers just like everyone else.
But now she landed on the sand, briefly alone in that vast oval, and Qibli felt a terrible shudder of fear inside him. What would happen to the world without Thorn in it? What would happen to the SandWings? They needed her. She was the only queen who could heal the scars left by the war.
And she’s my leader and my friend. She changed my life. If she hadn’t saved me, who would I be?
Onyx landed heavily in front of Thorn, and his spasm of fear twisted tighter. Qibli had been thinking of Onyx as a fellow dragonet because she was a student at Jade Mountain Academy — but of course she was much older than the other students, almost twenty years old. Which made her around the same age as Thorn … but definitely bigger.
In the center of the far wall that ringed the oval there was an indentation, which Qibli had noticed before because it looked deliberate, and yet he’d never been able to figure out what it was for. Now its purpose became clear as Thorn set the Eye of Onyx into the hollow, where it fit perfectly.
Torches were being lit all around the stadium, so Qibli wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light — but he could have sworn a crackle of blue energy zipped around the stone for a moment as Thorn lifted her talons away.
Onyx stepped closer to it, staring at the Eye hungrily.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Thorn asked her. “What the Eye does … it’s not a pleasant way to die.”
Onyx scowled. “It won’t kill me,” she snapped. “I’m the true heir to the SandWing throne.”
“You said you’re a granddaughter of Queen Oasis …” Thorn prompted.
Onyx lifted her chin proudly. “My mother’s name was Palm,” she said. “My father is Prince Smolder.”
Qibli leaned forward to see Smolder’s reaction. I should have warned him. I was so distracted with everything else.
Smolder looked as though someone had driven cactus spikes under his claws. He blinked several times, then vaulted over the wall and ran across the sand toward the daughter he never knew he had.
She jumped back, scowling at him, and he stumbled to a stop in front of her.
“Palm’s daughter?” he said, bracing himself to look down at her. “I didn’t know she — she never told me. But if we’d had a daughter, we were going to name her —”
“Onyx,” she answered. “That’s me.”
He took a step back, his wings sagging. “But Palm died — she died years ago. My mother killed her. It was rather a specialty of Mother’s, killing dragons she didn’t like.”
“Not this one,” said Onyx. “Palm escaped and had me. She thought you were dead. Good job looking for us, though. Appreciate that.”
“I would have if I’d known,” he said fiercely. Behind him, Thorn reached out and brushed his wing lightly with hers. Smolder kept his gaze on Onyx, but his body seemed to react subconsciously, leaning toward Thorn so their wings stayed connected.
When did they start falling for each other? Qibli wondered. How had he missed it? He hadn’t been away at school that long — but then, he hadn’t seen as much of Thorn in the last few months as usual, with her royal duties keeping her busy. Thorn and Smolder, really? I guess Sunny did tell her to go have some more eggs, so there would be heirs to the SandWing throne who actually want to be queen.
But she’ll have to survive this first.
And she might have to kill his daughter in front of him.
“Onyx, I have a suggestion,” said Smolder, his usual half-mocking tone just failing to conceal a note of deeper sincerity. “How about instead of immediately risking death against our shiny new queen, you take a few days to get to know us first? Stay here at the palace. Tell me all about your life. See how incredibly boring the job of queen really is. Eat as much as you want. Hang out with me. I mean, wouldn’t you rather get to know your father than expire in a ball of ancient crackly magic?”
“So give me the throne,” Onyx said challengingly to Thorn. “We don’t have to fight for it. I’d be happy to take it off your talons.”
“I can’t,” Thorn said. “I couldn’t give it to you even if I wanted to — which I don’t, to be clear. But the Eye of Onyx must choose.”
“We’ve been reading the legends about it,” Smolder said. “An animus dragon named Jerboa created it for the queen of the SandWings thousands of years ago. It’s been an essential — and deadly — part of the transition of power ever since.”
“Yes, yes, Mother told me all about it,” Onyx said impatiently. “She said it was the one thing that could prove I was royal, so she wanted me to stay far away from it.” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s get on with it. We fight until the Eye chooses the greater dragon, isn’t that right?”
“Onyx,” Smolder tried one last time. “Please.”
“Sit down, you old lizard,” Onyx snapped. “I’m not here for you. I’m here for my crown.”
Qibli’s heart started thumping painfully as Smolder bowed his head and turned back to his seat. Thorn and Onyx squared off, tails raised like scorpions, with the Eye glowering darkly in the wall beyond them.
I can’t watch the Eye choose Onyx and kill Thorn. I can’t just sit here and let that happen.
Maybe it will choose Thorn, argued another part of his brain. Maybe it knows she’s the better queen.
How would it know that? Surely it’ll sense royal blood versus common blood and that’s all it needs to know.
Onyx let out a roar and leaped at Thorn, all claws and teeth and venom. Thorn ducked and rolled aside, delivering a blow to the back of Onyx’s head as she whirled by. Onyx spat furiously and slashed at Thorn’s wing. She just missed, but left bleeding claw marks along Thorn’s side.
A new terrifying thought struck Qibli. Darkstalker was offering to conspire with Vulture. What if he did something to the Eye? What if he used his magic from afar to make it choose Onyx?
That’s what I would do, he realized, digging his claws into the bench below him. If I had Darkstalker’s magic, I’d enchant the Eye to choose Thorn forever; I’d enchant it to protect her and destroy anyone who tried to steal her throne.
But I don’t have Darkstalker’s magic. He slid a few inches away from Winter, hunching into his wings. I have nothing to protect her wi —
He paused, staring down at his wrists … and the glowing armbands there. If he could call a
storm — maybe a lightning bolt to strike down Onyx, quick before the Eye attacked — he could end this fight with Thorn safe and sound.
The only way to fight magic is with more magic, right?
I have to do what I can.
Qibli sat back and raised his forearms. “Give me thunder,” he whispered to the bracelets. “Give me rain.”
He felt Winter twitch toward him, but he tented his wings around himself to shut Winter out. “Bring me a storm,” he said in a low voice, closing his talons into fists.
A rush of wind swept across the arena, strong enough to buffet Thorn and Onyx nearly into the wall. With a howl it swooped away again, and everyone looked up to see dark clouds billowing up to cover the stars. The three moons were quickly swallowed.
“More,” Qibli whispered, turning his wrists up toward the sky. “I want lightning.”
His scales prickled under the bands, like sharp little teeth digging in. The wind rushed through again, fiercer this time, and the air crackled ominously around the arena.
“Qibli, you fool,” Winter said, shaking his shoulder. “You don’t know how to control those.”
“I have to save Thorn,” Qibli answered through gritted teeth. The bracelets were starting to hurt, as if they were constricting tighter and tighter. There was still no rain, but the wind was growing stronger than he’d ever felt it before, beating the clouds across the sky and shrieking around the walls and towers of the palace.
Down in the arena, Thorn and Onyx had stopped fighting. They were having trouble even staying upright as the wind tried to seize their wings and carry them away. Onyx took two clawing steps toward Thorn and stopped, coughing and choking on the sand that flew up into her face.
“SANDSTORM!” roared a dragon from one of the upper poles. She was looking out over the walls of the palace at the desert beyond. “SANDSTORM! HEADING THIS WAY!”
Oh no, Qibli thought. That’s not what I was trying to summon. He’d seen bad sandstorms before; he knew they were not to be trifled with.
Another dragon tried to take to the air to see the storm, but the wind immediately caught him and whirled him away into the clouds, screaming. Qibli stared after him, stricken with horror.
Darkness of Dragons Page 14
