Darkness of Dragons

by Tui T. Sutherland

  “I got that,” Qibli reassured her.

  “All right, it’s safe to come out,” Anemone said over her shoulder.

  “I can see more of the hallway than she can and I say it’s safe to come out!” Kinkajou said quickly.

  Anemone rolled her eyes elaborately and ascended into the corridor, tucking herself behind the open door. Behind her, slow and blinking, came Turtle.

  He looked older and more tired than he had the last time Qibli had seen him. There were tiny little dried trickles of blood all over him — his face, his neck, his sides, his wings, his tail. For a moment Qibli was afraid Darkstalker had tortured him, but then he remembered the fight with Anemone (and he noticed how Anemone was having trouble looking at Turtle).

  “You got my message,” he said to Qibli in a wavering voice, his eyes brightening.

  “Of course I did,” Qibli said, feeling immensely guilty for how much he’d complained about Turtle’s communication skills. “We came right away.” He stepped forward and wrapped his wings around Turtle.

  “Anemone says you made her safe from Darkstalker’s spells,” Turtle said. “Thank you.”

  “No, you did that,” Qibli said, pulling back and grabbing Turtle’s shoulders. “You’re a hero, Turtle! You saved her and Queen Thorn and everyone at Jade Mountain and the whole IceWing tribe!”

  Turtle squinted at him. “Um … I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”

  “It’s true!” Qibli pointed to his ear and then Anemone’s. “Look familiar? The spell you used to protect me — it’s the same one protecting her. And Sunny and Clay and Starflight and Winter and Moon and all the IceWings. Your spell. Darkstalker sent a plague to kill the entire IceWing tribe and your spell saved them.”

  “What?” said Turtle, looking dizzy. “It did?”

  “Told you you were a hero,” Kinkajou said proudly. She scrunched her snout and rubbed her face with her talons. “Arrrrrgh, I think I’m making a stupid love spell face. ANEMONE.”

  “Pretty sure your face always looks that stupid, KINKAJOU,” the princess snarked back.

  “All right, stop it,” Qibli said, grabbing Kinkajou before she could tackle Anemone. “I have bad news. Those IceWings Turtle saved? They’re pretty mad about what Darkstalker tried to do. They’re on their way to Jade Mountain, looking for a fight, and Darkstalker is about to lead the NightWings there to give them one.”

  “Over Jade Mountain?” Kinkajou cried. “Like —”

  “Yes. Just like in Moon’s vision,” Qibli said.

  “But we found the lost city of night!” Kinkajou said frantically. “That should have stopped the prophecy!”

  “Well, it hasn’t yet,” said Qibli. “But maybe if we can get to Jade Mountain first, we can do something. With your magic or your magic, if we have to,” he said to Anemone and Turtle.

  Turtle’s wings drooped. “I don’t have any magic anymore,” he said. “Darkstalker took it away from me.”

  “Oh, Turtle,” Kinkajou said sympathetically. She reached over and twined her tail around his, then shot a glare at Anemone as if to say I’d be doing this even without your spell.

  Qibli was horrified. To have animus magic and then lose it must be the worst thing that could happen to someone. Maybe even worse than never having animus magic at all.

  Like holding a scroll with infinite power in your talons, and then watching it burn to ashes a moment later.

  “The earring should fix that,” he said quickly. “It’ll remove any spells Darkstalker ever put on you. You’ll be an animus again.” He dug in his pouch, realizing he was almost out of earrings and needed to make more.

  “I’m not sure I deserve to be,” Turtle said sadly.

  “Well, that’s irrelevant,” Anemone barked. “We’re fixing you whether you like it or mope about it.”

  “She’s right,” Qibli said. “Sorry, but we need all the animus magic we can get on our side if we’re going to defeat Darkstalker.” He held out the earring and Turtle took it, his eyes wide and a little blurry, like he was holding back tears.

  “Except none of our magic will work on him,” Anemone pointed out. “So don’t get too excited. Are we going to stand around feeling sorry for each other all day, or can we go to Jade Mountain now?”

  “Oh, very compassionate,” Kinkajou said to her. “It’s so comforting to think you might be running a kingdom one day.”

  “Come on, this way,” Qibli said. They saw no NightWings as they ran through the palace. It was eerily deserted, as if the tribe had vanished again. But when Qibli glanced out one of the windows, he saw the Great Diamond below swarming with black wings and flickering torches. The tribe wasn’t going to run away this time. They were going to fight, and dragons were going to die.

  He had the map of the palace clear in his head, so it didn’t take long to lead the others back through the winding halls and stairs to Moon’s room, where Winter looked about ready to explode.

  “Hello, nice to see you, glad you’re safe, let’s go let’s go,” Winter said, herding them toward the window with his wings. He was the first one to leap into the sky, and then the others followed, one by one. They soared toward the mountains, catching the strange twisting currents of the wind and beating their wings as fast as they could.

  Beware the darkness of dragons.

  The prophecy ran through Qibli’s mind like a drumbeat, pounding darkly alongside his heart.

  Something is coming to shake the earth.

  Moon’s vision was about to come true.

  Jade Mountain will fall beneath thunder and ice.

  And he had no idea how to stop it.

  Invisible paintbrushes streaked pink and orange clouds across the horizon ahead of them, and soon the sun rose, a ball of fire that shone brightly in Qibli’s eyes. He was glad to be a SandWing, built for long flights across the desert without stopping and able to go days on very little food (when did I last eat?).

  He could see Kinkajou, Anemone, and Turtle struggling, although none of them complained (not even Anemone, which was surprising). RainWings were not long-distance fliers or accustomed to deprivation; they usually swung and hopped from branch to branch in a rainforest always full of food. And SeaWings preferred to alternate swimming and flying when they had to travel a long distance; not only that, but Anemone and Turtle had both traveled all the way across the continent only a few days ago, with almost no time to recover since.

  As an IceWing, Winter could handle the length of the flight, but the heat of the desert clearly wore on him. Still, he clenched his jaw and flew with grim determination, no doubt driven by the danger his tribe was in.

  Only Moon flew as swiftly and surely as Qibli, but he watched her carefully and saw the agony that twisted across her face from time to time — the visions hitting like a tree smashing over her head. Once the pain looked so bad that her wings faltered, and he dove underneath her to catch her if she fell. But she righted herself and flew onward, shooting him a rueful “thank you“ look.

  The long flight gave Qibli a lot of time to think — and think and think.

  We have magic, if we can figure out how to use it. Darkstalker’s going to discover Turtle is free soon enough; Turtle should start using his magic before Darkstalker thinks of another way to stop him.

  But how? What’s the best spell?

  Could we enchant the two tribes to agree to a peace treaty? But would it be right to magically compel them? Is that any better than bewitching dragons to like you, or Anemone’s love spell, or Darkstalker’s manipulation?

  And there would be nothing to stop Darkstalker from breaking the treaty whenever he wants.

  I wonder if Turtle and Anemone could craft a spell to protect Jade Mountain … like some kind of shield around it. I wonder if that would stop it from falling. It wouldn’t save the IceWings or the NightWings, though.

  How many dragons are going to die today?

  Around and around went his mind, chasing the same questions.

  We should
evacuate Jade Mountain as soon as we get there, to be safe. The other dragonets in the school — they should be moved to safety. The rainforest is closest — or Queen Moorhen’s palace.

  But they were only halfway to Jade Mountain when a wing of black dragons suddenly flashed past them — at least fifteen dragons, flying at twice the pace of the fastest SkyWing. Three of them were carrying something white, perhaps pieces of a scroll or cloth; Qibli didn’t get a good look. A few threw the dragonets smirks of triumph as they whisked by.

  “No!” shouted Winter, pounding his wings to try and catch them. But it was no use — they vanished into the distance with frightening speed. The super speed that Darkstalker gave them. Qibli lashed his tail with frustration.

  They didn’t talk about it, saving their energy for flight, but Qibli felt new fear creeping through the group after that. What other powers had Darkstalker handed out in preparation for war? How many invulnerable, super-strong dragons were on their way to kill IceWings right now?

  What if he had given someone else animus magic? The earrings wouldn’t protect anyone from a new animus. But Qibli couldn’t imagine Darkstalker doing that. He didn’t trust other animus dragons. He wouldn’t want there to be more of them in the world — each one was a threat to his absolute power.

  Soon after they reached the edge of the Claws of the Clouds mountain range and were flying over the foothills, two of the swift NightWings came tearing back from the mountains and swept past them again, this time without even a glance at the breathless dragonets.

  Gone to update Darkstalker on the situation — how many IceWings, whether they have weapons, where they are. That must be useful, scouts as fast as that … although I’m sure Darkstalker has magical ways to get all the same answers. This way, though, his subjects feel useful. He’s been careful to feed their vanity so they’ll love him all the more.

  Qibli finally sighted Jade Mountain ahead of them in the late afternoon. At first glance it looked peaceful, the two peaks crowned with golden sunlight and long streaks of puffy clouds above it like dragon smoke.

  But as they got closer they saw flashes in the sky, like light bouncing off bright snow — the white and pale blue wings of IceWings swooping around the mountain. Qibli focused his sharp eyes on a nearby peak that was dusted with snow — and realized it wasn’t snow. Those were more IceWings, hundreds of them, gathering into formations, ready to surge into battle.

  He saw no sign of the NightWing scouts, which was worrying.

  Down on the wide ledge that formed the main entrance of the school, he spotted three large IceWings, bristling with spikes and righteous anger. Facing off against them, blocking the way into the school, were Sunny, Clay, Starflight, and Peril. All of them, even Clay and Peril, looked small next to the tallest towering ice dragon.

  A moment later, Winter saw them, too, and let out a hiss.

  “Friends of yours?” Qibli asked. “No, worse … relatives?”

  “My father, Narwhal,” Winter said, pointing to the biggest of the dragons. “My cousin, Snowfall, the new queen. And you remember my brother, Hailstorm.” He sighed a long breath in and out through his nose.

  “They think Sunny and Starflight know where the new Night Kingdom is,” said Moon.

  “Can you hear their thoughts?” Qibli asked.

  She shook her head. “The skyfire blocks my mind reading when I’m holding it. But I can tell from the way they’re shouting at them.”

  That would have been Qibli’s guess as well. Narwhal and Snowfall radiated fury, snapping their wings out and rattling their tail spikes as they roared. Hailstorm stood a step behind Narwhal, frowning stiffly, like a dragon in a play trying to be the most serious and menacing character.

  As they got closer, they could hear the dragons’ voices echoing off the cliffs around them.

  “How could you let a monster like that loose on the world and then stop paying attention?” Narwhal bellowed.

  “Our entire tribe nearly died and it would have been your fault,” Snowfall snarled.

  “We didn’t let him loose,” Sunny cried. “He enchanted us, same as you.”

  “And we’ve been trying to figure out what to do ever since the spell was broken,” Starflight added nervously, edging a little closer to Sunny’s warmth. Qibli guessed that even without his sight, Starflight must have been able to feel the cold glares the three IceWings were sending his way.

  “That’s quite simple. All you have to do is tell us where he is.” Snowfall bared her teeth.

  “We really don’t know!” Clay said helplessly. “I don’t know how many times we can say it.”

  “But we wouldn’t tell you anyway!” Peril spoke up fiercely. “We can SEE that giant army behind you, you know.”

  “This is a centuries-old war,” Narwhal hissed. “You would do well to stay out of it.”

  “Fine by us!” snapped Peril. “So go away, then!”

  “No, please don’t go attack the NightWings!” Sunny said passionately. “They’re all under his spell, don’t you see? It’s not the tribe who tried to hurt you — it’s just Darkstalker. We’ll find a way to stop him, but IceWings and NightWings killing each other isn’t the answer.”

  “Twenty IceWings died of that plague, including our queen,” said Snowfall. “They started this. They’re going to pay for it.”

  “I don’t know why you’re here yelling at us!” Peril jumped in again. “It was a Jade Mountain student who sent those earrings to save you all. Without Jade Mountain, you’d all be dead, so, you’re welcome very much.”

  “Without Jade Mountain, the Darkstalker would still be buried deep under the earth, where he should be,” Narwhal growled.

  “That’s —” Peril hesitated, and they were close enough now for Qibli to see the heartbreaking look that swept across her face. She glanced down at her talons and covered them with her wings.

  Clay reached out and rested one of his wings over hers, wincing a little as her firescales touched him.

  “Please give us time to find another way,” Sunny pleaded. “Let us try to deal with Darkstalker without killing any more dragons.”

  “It’s too late,” said Winter as they all landed on the ledge between the IceWings and the Jade Mountain dragons. He bowed solemnly to his family. “Father. Cousin. Hailstorm.”

  They stared back at him, thunderstruck.

  “What — but —” Narwhal turned around to look at Hailstorm, as though expecting that his other son might have vanished. Hailstorm’s expression was petrified and trapped and anguished and a tiny bit relieved as well, if Qibli was reading him right.

  “You’re dead,” Snowfall exclaimed. Her tail twitched back and forth in bewilderment. “You totally died.”

  Winter spread his wings. “Not totally, I’m afraid.”

  “This is awkward,” said Qibli. “But we don’t have time for epic family sagas right now. The NightWing army is on its way here.”

  He might as well have lit a dragonflame cactus in the middle of the gathering.

  “WHAT?” Narwhal and Snowfall roared simultaneously.

  “Oh no,” Sunny cried, turning toward the school as if she wanted to wrap her wings around it.

  “Great!” said Peril. “Now you can go be idiots at each other and leave the rest of us alone!”

  Starflight skittered back a few steps toward the entrance, paused, and crouched, gripping the stone with his claws as though he was preparing to hold his ground in a strong wind.

  “How much time do we have?” asked Clay. “Enough time to get the IceWing army away from here?”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” Snowfall declared. “We’re ready to fight them!”

  “Enough time to evacuate the school?” Sunny asked, taking a step closer and looking Qibli in the eyes.

  “I hope —” he started, but before he could finish, three NightWings burst from the trees, shot through the air with their claws outstretched, and attacked the new queen of the IceWings.

  Snowfal
l shrieked and everyone on the ledge leaped forward — but the closest dragon to her was Narwhal. He struck one of the NightWings full force, killing her with a single blow, but the other two were only a moment behind, and now he was between them and their prey. As he twisted to confront them, they caught his throat in their slashing talons.

  “Father!” Hailstorm and Winter screamed.

  Hailstorm reached him first, throwing off one of the NightWings and smashing his spiked tail into the other. Winter grabbed for the one he’d flung aside, but the black dragon flashed out of his reach with his unnatural speed and sliced his claws along Hailstorm’s side.

  Hailstorm roared with pain and now Clay was there, too, dragging one of the NightWings back by his tail, and Qibli darted forward to leap on the other one’s back, but suddenly three more NightWings plummeted from the rocks above the cave opening, all aiming for the young IceWing queen.

  “Stop it!” Moon shouted at them, trying to throw herself in their way. “Smokeseer! Eclipse! Don’t do this! We don’t want a war!”

  They swerved around her as if she were a rock in a stream; only one stopped for a moment to yell, “They want this war! We’re defending ourselves and you should be fighting alongside us, traitor!”

  Snowfall shrieked again, this time shooting a blast of frostbreath that hit one of the attacking NightWings in the face so hard it knocked him backward. He crashed to the ground and scrabbled at his snout frantically as ice spread across his nose and eyes.

  Frostbreath was everywhere now as Snowfall, Winter, and Hailstorm all fought back. A slick of ice spread across the back of the dragon below Qibli’s talons, the chill hitting his claws just as he lost his grip and fell off. He hit the ground with a hard thump and leaped to his feet again, ramming his shoulder into another NightWing. Through the mess of frostbreath and fire and scales he saw Moon frantically trying to pull her tribemates back, but they shook her off as though she was a clinging spiderweb.

  He heard Kinkajou overhead shouting something about using her venom on everyone. He caught a glimpse of Anemone backing into the school, calling to Turtle. A black tail smashed Qibli back into a silvery-blue wing; freezing, serrated claws stamped down on one of his feet. He heard a roar of pain that sounded like Clay. He tried to fight his way toward Moon or Winter, but they were both lost in the melee of surging scales on the blood-slick stone.