Escaping Peril

by Tui T. Sutherland

  “Stop!” Soar cried, pushing ineffectively at Scarlet’s claws.

  Peril reared up with her wings flared wide. This is it. I should kill her. I’d be saving my father. This is the right moment. Even Clay would want me to. Now. Do it now, Peril.

  But … what was the truth Scarlet wanted her to know?

  And what if she attacked the wrestling dragons and accidentally burned her father as well?

  And how could she kill the dragon who’d kept her alive when everyone else wanted her dead?

  And what if the queen was right? What if no one else ever did love Peril?

  What if killing Scarlet didn’t work to change everyone’s minds?

  What if she made another mistake like she had with Winter, only someone really died, and then even Clay had to hate her, and she got thrown out of Jade Mountain forever, and all the queens in all the kingdoms banished her, and she had nowhere to go and no one else in the world?

  Wouldn’t she regret killing her queen then? Wouldn’t she wish there were someone left alive who loved her?

  All these thoughts flashed through her head at once, making Peril hesitate long enough to realize that Scarlet wasn’t attacking Soar.

  The queen was merely holding Soar down while she sliced off the gold-spiked necklace he was wearing. For such a big, strong-looking SkyWing, he was obviously not much of a fighter; he protested, loudly, but barely struggled.

  Finally Queen Scarlet was able to rip the leather in two and the choker clattered to the ground, revealing a strip of something small and white tucked into a hidden pocket inside it.

  “There,” Scarlet said, stepping back with a satisfied toss of her head.

  Soar scrambled to his feet, scowling … but his eyes were no longer amber … and his orange scales were shifting, shrinking and changing color just like the decapitated not-Glory head.

  Peril jumped back, leaving scorch marks across the moss on the edge of the rock. He’s not a SkyWing.

  Was he a NightWing? Could he be the NightWing who had followed her and Turtle earlier?

  If I’m half NightWing, maybe I have some cool powers I don’t know about. Maybe their tribe would take me in — I bet they’d like me, if they could figure out how to use me.

  But Soar’s scales weren’t turning black either.

  They were turning … green.

  Not a rich, dark green like Turtle’s scales; in fact, not a color green that Peril had ever seen on any SeaWing before. Soar was now the color of limes and jungle parakeets, a sort of nondescript yellowish-green that clashed horribly with the moss under him. He was also skinnier than he had been before, with narrower shoulders and less shiny teeth. His wings were smaller and his tail … his tail coiled in a loop behind him like a monkey’s … or like a —

  “A RainWing?” Peril said. “Seriously. My father is a RainWing. Is this a joke?”

  “He’s not much of a RainWing,” Scarlet said, smirking. “That’s why they threw him out. Just like you, actually, banished from his kingdom. Like father, like daughter; no one wants either of you anywhere. Except me, of course. Wouldn’t a little gratitude be in order here?”

  “So what if I am a RainWing?” Peril’s father said to the queen. “When I met Kestrel I was a full SkyWing. She never knew I was anything else. Our dragonets would have been full SkyWings. That’s how it works.”

  “Ha,” Scarlet snorted. “You don’t know that. I say it’s no coincidence this one turned out the way she did. SkyWings should only have eggs with other SkyWings, and here’s your proof.”

  “That’s not proof,” he snapped. “SkyWings have been having dragonets with firescales for centuries. You can’t blame that on me! It has nothing to do with — with who I really am.”

  “I’m a hybrid?” Peril said, not quite following this conversation. “How can I be half RainWing? I don’t look anything like them.” She held out her talons and tried to will her scales to change color. When nothing happened, she touched her front fangs, wondering whether they could secretly shoot venom. Not that she needed extra weaponry, but it would be pretty cool anyway.

  “You’re not a hybrid,” said her father, a little impatiently considering he was dropping a basket full of crazy on her head. “I was a SkyWing when I met Kestrel and fathered you. You wouldn’t have any RainWing characteristics. You’re all SkyWing.”

  “But what are you talking about, you were a SkyWing?” Peril asked. “Turning your scales orange doesn’t make you a SkyWing.”

  “Ha ha ha!” Scarlet laughed. “He can’t even do that, my dear.”

  “No, but I can do other things,” he snapped. “I — have a gift, Peril. Look.” He picked up the ripped necklace and held it around his neck.

  Once more his scales rippled, this time back to orange, and suddenly Soar the SkyWing was standing in front of Peril again.

  “See?” he said in his deeper, stronger voice. “I can change my entire self. Now I’m a full SkyWing.”

  “With a terrible name you gave yourself,” Peril guessed. “That explains that. What’s your real name?”

  “Chameleon,” he said, dropping the necklace and turning back into the defensive green dragon. “Some dragons might say that was a cruel irony, while others, for instance an entire tribe of RainWings, might laugh and laugh for days once everyone realizes that the dragon named ‘Chameleon’ is the only one in the rainforest who can’t change his scales.”

  Peril wasn’t particularly interested in his sob stories from the past. Pieces were starting to come together in her head.

  “You’re the one who enchanted the head to look like Glory!” Peril said. “You’re helping Queen Scarlet scare my friends!”

  “Hey, she pays very well,” he said, displaying the rings on his claws. “At least, she used to. I’ve had more treasure than any RainWing in the history of Pyrrhia for years now. The last several months haven’t been quite the same, though.” He shot a disapproving look at the queen.

  “I’ll have my kingdom back soon enough,” Queen Scarlet said. “Although I think you owe me for the prize you lost a few days ago.”

  Peril closed her eyes, frowning. This conversation was distracting her from her goal: killing Scarlet.

  If that was still the right thing to do. Was it? Queen Scarlet didn’t seem so terrifying and monstrous here, in this quiet valley, talking about Peril’s lovely craziness and her father.

  Remember all the terrible things she’s done. That random MudWing she killed to get that head. Sending Clay and his friends to fight in the arena. Forcing my mother to kill my twin brother …

  But she kept me alive, when everyone else in the tribe would have had me killed the moment I hatched.

  And she’s right — she never wanted to change me. She likes my scales the way they are. I’m not sure even Clay feels that way. She remembered him wincing when he touched her, and the way he watched her wings carefully when she was near anything flammable.

  Did Scarlet really have to die?

  Oh, Clay, why can’t you be here to tell me what’s right?

  She opened her eyes and looked at Chameleon, who was fiddling with the metal sheath around his chest. This was Scarlet’s mysterious new ally. Peril’s own father — a disgraced RainWing with strange shape-shifting abilities. He wasn’t so terrifying either.

  Would it be so bad if Scarlet did get her throne back? What if Ruby agreed to step down, and Scarlet agreed to leave Peril’s friends alone, and Peril agreed to stop setting dragons on fire (unless they really deserved it), and everything went mostly back to normal?

  “Peril,” said Chameleon, breaking into her thoughts. “I know I haven’t been a father to you before, but I can change that. I think I can give you a gift that’s everything you’ve always wanted.”

  “There’s nothing I’ve always wanted,” Peril said. The image of Clay wrapping his wings around her and never letting go flashed through her head, but she shoved it away. She was a long way off from getting that, or deserving it, or feeling as
if she could accept it even if Clay ever — stop thinking about this, she ordered herself.

  “Oh, really?” Chameleon pulled out a thick chain of silvery-black metal links, with a black locket dangling from one end of it. Peril recognized the metal as the kind Scarlet used to bind the wings and ankles of her prisoners; impervious to most dragon fire, but not to Peril’s. Carved on the outside of the locket was a dragon shape, wings spread and tail curled in two loops below, inlaid with a golden-copper metal that glinted in the sunlight like Peril’s scales.

  Peril regarded it for a moment. “You’re right,” she said. “All my life I have desperately wanted an ugly necklace.”

  “Hey,” Chameleon protested, as Queen Scarlet gave a shout of laughter.

  “Especially one that will melt the moment I put it on,” Peril said. “Thank you soooooo much! Best dad ever.”

  “This is the kind of parenting fun you’ve missed out on,” Scarlet said to him. “You’re welcome.”

  “It’s not just a necklace,” Chameleon insisted, ignoring Scarlet. “Peril, don’t you understand what I can do? I can turn you into anyone you want. I could make you a SeaWing or an IceWing or even a scavenger, if you particularly wanted to get eaten for some reason. I could make you a MudWing. I can take away your firescales. Don’t you see? You could be normal. You could be a dragon who can touch other dragons. You don’t have to be this monster everyone is afraid of. I can change you.”

  Peril stared at him, wondering if her scales were floating off into the clouds the way it felt like they might be.

  “I thought your power was only meant to be used for special cases,” Scarlet mused. “Something about consequences and risks and something blah.”

  “This is a special case,” Chameleon said. “I’d do anything for my dragonet.”

  “Aww,” Scarlet said sarcastically. “What a rare and unusual parent.” Something seemed to strike her and she inhaled a plume of smoke, turning her head to gaze thoughtfully toward the north.

  “You’re serious,” Peril said to her father. “This is real? I put that necklace on and I won’t be me anymore?” She couldn’t figure out how she felt about that. It sounded glorious and awful at the same time. No more Peril. No more Peril. Everyone would be safe from her forever. But without my firescales, who am I?

  “It’s up to you,” he answered. “This particular necklace is only enchanted to take away your firescales. You’ll still be you, the same Peril, with all your own personality and history. But you’ll have normal SkyWing scales and you’ll be able to touch whoever you want without hurting them. Can you imagine? You’d be a regular dragon. But if you want a different enchantment, turning you into someone else entirely, I could do that, too.”

  I could be a MudWing. Someone Clay could be with and love without anyone hating me for it. They don’t even need to know that I used to be Peril.

  Except for him — I need him to know who I really am. I’d have to tell him about this transformation as myself first. I could be Peril for now — safe Peril, no firescales, no danger to anyone. And then after I talk to him, I could become whoever he wants. Clay could decide! He could imagine the perfect dragon for himself, and that’s what I could become. Exactly what he wants in every detail. Then he would have to love me, wouldn’t he?

  She started to reach for the necklace, then pulled back. “It won’t work,” she said. “That necklace will melt and fall apart the moment it touches my scales.”

  “This metal is thick and strong,” Chameleon said. “And the transformation only takes a moment. I think it will last until your scales are safe, if you put it on quickly. It’s worth a try, isn’t it? And if it doesn’t work, we’ll make something else. But if it does work, don’t take it off — the more times it goes on and off, the more chances there are of destroying it.”

  Peril hesitated one last time. “This isn’t a trick, right? I’ll still be myself?”

  “Of course,” said Chameleon. “Just like I am always myself, but each of my faces is a better version of me. You’ll be Peril, but finally a Peril that dragons can love.”

  And if it is a trick, Peril thought, and I disappear … would it be such a great loss for the world? Would Clay even miss me? Wouldn’t Turtle be happy never to see me again?

  She snatched the necklace from Chameleon’s claws and dropped it over her head, over her horns, until it landed around her neck, the locket hitting her chest with a thump.

  She waited for it to curl into a molten mess.

  But it didn’t.

  Nothing happened.

  Actually nothing. It just sat there. Peril felt exactly the same.

  She poked the necklace. Nothing, just a necklace, hanging around her neck, ostentatiously NOT melting.

  “How do you feel?” Chameleon asked.

  Peril looked up to find both of them squinting at her. She held out her talons to examine them.

  “Do I look any different?”

  “Not much,” said Chameleon.

  “Less incandescent,” said Scarlet. “More disappointing. More … ordinary.” She spat out the last word like a rotten pear, but it sounded beautiful to Peril.

  “Really?” Peril turned and saw a small yellow flower growing out of a crack in the boulder she sat on. She slowly reached out one claw, her whole arm trembling, and brushed the petals.

  The flower wobbled. The flower bent with Peril’s claw, slipped back to its place, and fluttered its yellowness cheerfully in the wind.

  The flower lived.

  “Did you see that?” Peril gasped.

  “Yawn,” said Scarlet.

  Peril poked the flower again, and when it still didn’t burst into flame, she leaped off the boulder entirely, landing on all fours in the grass below.

  The grass lived!

  Peril ran full-out across the meadow, stomping her talons into the grass, flicking branches with her wings, rolling in patches of ivy, ramming her side into trees.

  Everything lived!

  She startled a sheep out of its hiding place in a cave and it galloped across her path, bleating with shaggy terror. Delighted, Peril thwacked it with her tail, sending it bouncing across the grass several feet. It leaped up and kept running away, and a grin the size of Jade Mountain spread across Peril’s face.

  “Look at me!” she shouted to her father and her queen. She grabbed a tree with her front talons and shook it until a mortified squirrel fell out. “I can do anything!”

  “Except wreak fiery vengeance on my enemies,” Queen Scarlet muttered grumpily.

  Peril skipped back across the grass to them, settling herself on top of the most flammable patch of foliage she could find. And it survived! Nothing was on fire in this whole entire valley! This was the most beautiful place in the world!

  “Don’t worry,” she said to the queen, breathing a small spurt of perfectly normal dragonflame from her mouth. “We can still do that. The vengeance, enemies, whatever thing. Where do you want to start?”

  Queen Scarlet sat up and looked at her. Then she looked at Chameleon. He bowed deeply, his wings spread wide.

  “At your service, Your Majesty,” he said with a smile.

  “I do have one great idea,” Queen Scarlet said, regarding Peril thoughtfully.

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Peril asked. “Let’s go get your kingdom back.”

  They flew north immediately, as darkness began to stretch across the mountains below them and the tiny heartbeats of stars started to flicker in the sky. Peril felt light, lighter than she thought she’d ever felt before. She was like smoke on the wind, like a drift of dandelion seeds. She was free.

  I have nothing to worry about anymore.

  She did a flip in the air, swooped up behind her father — who was back in his SkyWing shape as Soar, although somehow without his ripped necklace; that was weird, she should ask him how he’d done that later; probably by enchanting something else, whatever, no big deal — and tackled him so he toppled sideways and had to do a funny fra
ntic flapping spiral to recover.

  Peril laughed and laughed. “I’ve never been able to do that to anyone before!” she cried. “I’ve always wanted to tackle someone in midair!” She zoomed around him and nudged one of his wings heartily with one of hers, unbalancing him again. “And that! I’ve always wanted to do that!”

  “Could you perhaps save some of your affectionate impulses for when I’m not fighting an updraft?” Chameleon asked, ducking out of her way as she dive-bombed him again. “I mean, I love it, thank you, but it’s a little vigorous for night flying, for me.”

  “You’re the best,” Peril said. She couldn’t stop herself from bodychecking him in the side again. “That was the last time, I promise!” she called as he reeled away. “Because when we get to the Sky Palace, there will be lots of dragons to do this to! I’m going to nudge wings and poke tails and HUG EVERYONE!”

  “No,” Queen Scarlet said sharply. She swung around and lined herself up to fly alongside Peril. “You can’t do that. Not until I have the throne back. No one can know that you’re powerless now — I need the threat of you, which should be as effective as the actual fire of you, after the last seven years. Once we’ve secured the throne and I’ve killed Ruby, then you can be as dippy and cuddly and stupid as you want.”

  “Oh,” Peril said, her light dimming a little. She had been hoping for a triumphant return as Safe Peril, Ordinary Peril, one of you, a regular SkyWing who can totally just be part of the tribe now, let’s be friends, hooray!

  But Queen Scarlet had a point. She needed Peril’s help, and that’s what Peril was here for, after all.

  “All right,” Peril said with a flick of her tail. “It won’t take long to make you queen again anyway.”

  “You’ll have to pay attention,” said the queen. “Don’t do anything stupid. Act exactly as you always have and don’t touch anything. In fact, don’t say anything either. Just stand there and look menacing.”

  “I can do that!” Peril said cheerfully. “I’ll practice my menacing face right now. Rrrrgh. Hrrgrrrmbrrgh. Rrrroarrrrg.”