Talons of Power

by Tui T. Sutherland

  Kinkajou stuck her head outside. “YIKES!” she yelped. “Who are you? You are SO BIG!”

  “Oh,” said Darkstalker, his voice immediately softening. “Moon’s friend. That’s all right. I was planning to heal her myself, in fact. But Anemone, please remember to run your spells by me first.”

  The three healers had all disappeared somewhere, perhaps scattering at the sight of Darkstalker. Turtle crept to the window and peeked out. The great NightWing had landed on a pavilion outside, and all around him were flurries of leaves-that-weren’t-leaves and branches-that-weren’t-branches as alarmed RainWings tried to hide and spy and sidle away at the same time.

  “I don’t like being bossed around,” Anemone said, lifting her chin. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Of course you do,” he said. “But a second eye on your spells can be helpful. I wish I’d had someone to give me advice about my scroll, for instance — so I could enchant it to be used only by me, or to return to me if it was stolen. Wouldn’t that have been smart? I can give you advice like that, because I’ve already made my mistakes.”

  “Oh,” Anemone said, considering. “Sure, that makes sense.”

  Turtle breathed a sigh of relief. Darkstalker wasn’t angry, and he didn’t seem to have noticed Turtle’s spell underneath Anemone’s. Apart from the horrible fact that Kinkajou was now bewitched into loving him, the plan had worked.

  “Your Majesty,” Darkstalker called. Turtle saw Glory and Deathbringer gliding through the treetops toward them. They landed on a branch nearby and Glory studied Darkstalker thoughtfully.

  “How did you find our village?” she asked.

  “I followed the sounds of RainWings thinking,” he said, tapping his head. “Or at least, what passes for thinking in a RainWing these days. This tribe has really gone soft.”

  “Hey!” Kinkajou objected. “We defeated YOUR stupid tribe, didn’t we?”

  Darkstalker didn’t bother to respond; he didn’t even bother to look at her. “I came to deliver a warning, Your Majesty.” He glanced around at the whispering trees. “There are five dragons on their way here to kill you. They will most likely attack tonight, and unless I stop them, they will succeed.”

  The trees gasped.

  “I’ll stop them,” Deathbringer said, lashing his tail. “I’ve stopped assassins before.”

  “I have bad news for you,” said Darkstalker. “I’m the one who can see the future. I’ve seen the part where you get stabbed by a SandWing tail.”

  “SandWings?” Glory asked. “Why would SandWings want to attack me?”

  “They’re working with a pair of NightWings you misplaced,” Darkstalker said. “Does that ring a bell?” Glory exchanged a glance with Deathbringer, and Turtle remembered the missing prisoners he’d heard about while eavesdropping — the ones who’d escaped from the SandWing stronghold.

  “You know what you need?” Darkstalker went on. “A nice strong prison of your own. Wouldn’t that solve a lot of problems?”

  “RainWings are not really a prison kind of tribe,” Glory started to say, but Darkstalker was already snapping a branch off one of the trees overhead.

  “Branch,” he commanded, “grow into a fine, strong, indestructible prison, with room for at least ten prisoners, that no dragon could ever break out of.”

  He flung the branch down toward the ground, and as it fell it began to grow, snapping outward and up, smashing through everything it hit as it plummeted. When it finally crashed to earth, far below them, it was a massive, dense cube of some unfamiliar material, with no windows. The last few blocks slammed into place, and then it fell silent, apparently finished.

  The RainWings all stared down at it. Turtle could see Kinkajou leaning over the edge of the walkway outside the healers’ hut, her face a picture of outrage.

  The prison was gray and solid, large and forbidding. It hulked on the rainforest floor like a sinister cloud that had been dragged to earth and chained down. Everything about it exuded wrongness.

  “Perfect,” said Darkstalker. A ring of metal keys had appeared in his talons, and he tossed them to Queen Glory. “You’re welcome.”

  Glory caught the keys and held them at arm’s length like a talonful of slugs. “I don’t see any windows on that … thing,” she said. “It would be cruel to put any RainWings in there, shut off from the sun. And ten seems like far more prisoners than we’ll ever have.”

  Darkstalker shrugged. “You never know,” he said. “But use it however you like. At least you can get Mastermind out of the quicksand now. Or give him to me and I’ll take him far away; it’s up to you.”

  Glory lifted her chin. “He still has to answer for his crimes against RainWings.”

  “Oh yes?” said Darkstalker. “Does this tribe have a terribly complex justice system, or what’s taking so long?”

  “It’s … a work in progress,” Glory said.

  “Let’s visit your new prison, which should be a safe place to wait for the assassins,” Darkstalker suggested, spreading his wings, “and meanwhile I can tell you all about the courts and trials and laws we had in the old Night Kingdom. It was a fascinating process, really, beginning and ending with the queen’s judgement, of course …” He spiraled down to the rainforest floor, his voice fading as he dropped. Queen Glory, Deathbringer, and Anemone all flew after him.

  Turtle took a step back into the pavilion. His heart was beating anxiously. What if his spell didn’t work, and Kinkajou was as bewitched by Darkstalker as anyone else? Or what if Darkstalker wasn’t using a spell after all, and everyone else genuinely liked him, and Turtle was just wrong?

  Kinkajou ducked back inside, catching a delicate lavender orchid on one of her frills, and sauntered over to him.

  “So, that dragon’s totally evil,” she said.

  “You think so? You really do?” said Turtle. He felt as though he could collapse right here and nap for three days. He wasn’t imagining things. And he wasn’t alone anymore.

  “He’s acting like the boss of Anemone, he’s making creepy unnecessary un-RainWing-y things with his magic, and he’s clearly trying to manipulate everyone with stuff like ‘I’ll save you from assassins!’ and ‘oh, I was going to heal her myself, actually.’ The good news is, Queen Glory and Deathbringer will see right through him. They’re probably planning some clever way to drive him out of the rainforest right now.”

  “Um,” said Turtle. “Unfortunately, they’re not. They like him — or they think they do. See, I think he’s using his magic on everyone. I don’t know the details of the spell, but it seems like everyone who meets him or talks to him ends up thinking he’s perfectly nice, harmless, and trustworthy.”

  “Everyone?” said Kinkajou.

  “Even Winter,” said Turtle. “Winter worst of all.”

  “Holy coconuts.” Kinkajou scratched her nose, turning a thoughtful shade of deep blue. “I’m really surprised. That NightWing seems like the kind of dragon who believes he’s super charming — like he wouldn’t need magic to win dragons over.”

  “Maybe,” said Turtle, “but it’s failed him once before, so I think he wants the extra security of the magic.” He explained Darkstalker’s history to Kinkajou, at least as much as he knew of it. That led him to Darkstalker’s animus scroll, so then he had to explain what had happened with Peril and Scarlet, and then as much as he knew of the story with Hailstorm. It was getting dark by the time he finished.

  “Bah!” Kinkajou grumbled, flicking her wings as orange starbursts went off across her scales. “I really did miss everything. That’s so unfair.”

  “Well, you’re not missing this crisis,” Turtle pointed out. “You and I are the only dragons here who are safe from Darkstalker. Which means”— he took a deep breath — “you’re the only one who can stop him.”

  “You mean WE’RE the only ones who can stop him, right?” Kinkajou said.

  “I was sort of hoping you would do it,” Turtle admitted.

  “Turtle!” She nudged him s
o he teetered sideways. “I totally would, but I’d rather do it with you! Saving the world is more fun plus also less terrifying with friends.” She gave him a sweet smile that made him extremely nervous about what Anemone’s love spell might be doing to her brain.

  “I am not a heroic dragon,” Turtle protested. “I don’t have good ideas, I’m lazy, and I hide when bad things happen.”

  “Waking me up was a good idea!” Kinkajou said brightly. “And look, you’re not hiding. You’re right here, where the bad things are. And you left Jade Mountain to find me and Moon and the others — that’s not lazy or hiding either.”

  “I was following Peril,” Turtle pointed out. “If I’m anything in the story, I’m maybe the hapless sidekick.”

  “Awesome!” Kinkajou leaped to her feet, beaming. “I’ve always wanted a hapless sidekick! OK, I don’t know what hapless means! But it sounds like happy, so I bet it’s awesome! Let’s go take him down!” She made a beeline for the door.

  “Wait, now?” Turtle said. “What’s the plan? Is there a plan? You know the hapless sidekick is the one who dies, right?”

  “Not in our story!” Kinkajou called.

  “Kinkajou, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Turtle shouted as she barged through the hanging orchids into the dusk.

  “I’m going to go study him,” Kinkajou explained as he emerged behind her, as though this were all perfectly obvious, “so we can figure out what he’s enchanted to hypnotize everybody, and then we’re going to steal it or break it, and then everyone will be all, ‘AAAAAH THERE’S A MONSTER DRAGON TRYING TO MANIPULATE US!’ and they’ll rise up and stop him. Done! The day is saved!”

  Turtle was beginning to wonder whether his problem-solving approach and Kinkajou’s might be completely incompatible.

  “I don’t think it’ll be that easy,” he said, rubbing his forehead.

  “Why not? You said he can’t hurt me,” Kinkajou pointed out. “Wait, why can’t he hurt me?”

  “Because of the spell I put on you,” said Turtle.

  Kinkajou stared at him.

  “Oh, right,” he said. “There’s one more thing I should probably have mentioned.”

  She bundled him back inside the healers’ pavilion. “You’re an animus?” she hissed softly.

  “Kind of a secret one?” he said with a shrug. “Like, please don’t tell anybody? I went through this already with Peril and Moon and Winter and Qibli.”

  “Three moons!” Kinkajou cried. “Why am I always the last to know everything?”

  “Well, no,” he said. “That would make you fifth. The fifth to know, out of all the dragons in Pyrrhia, or sixth I suppose if you count me.”

  Kinkajou considered that for a moment with her snout scrunched up. “Cool,” she said finally. “All right, that’s not too bad. But NEXT time you have a major enormous secret, tell me first, OK?”

  “OK,” he said. “Maybe I should mention that I’ve cast a spell to hide myself from Darkstalker?” He pulled out his stick and explained what it did, and how he couldn’t cast any more spells because Darkstalker would sense them, except for the one he’d managed to hide under Anemone’s.

  “So you see,” he finished, “I’m not actually ‘here in the middle of all the bad things,’ because I’m really actually hiding. I’m hiding all the time.”

  “OOOOOOOO,” Kinkajou said, her eyes shining. “Totally invisible to Darkstalker! That is an excellent spell. Another great idea, see? We’ll be an awesome team. You can be the idea dragon and I can be the WHAM BAM SHOVE A PINEAPPLE UP HIS SNOUT dragon!”

  “No, no, that won’t work. I think his snout is enchanted,” Turtle pointed out.

  “To be invulnerable to pineapples?” Kinkajou asked, and burst into giggles.

  Oh dear. An image of tiny, rainbow-colored Kinkajou lobbing fruit at Darkstalker popped into Turtle’s head. Maybe he hadn’t entirely thought through his choice of hero.

  “Don’t worry so much,” Kinkajou said, brushing his wing with hers. “Your forehead will get stuck that way. My plan will totally work, I swear! Or if it doesn’t, we’ll come up with a new amazing plan. Oooo, I bet this is EXACTLY how Glory felt when she was about to save the world!”

  She bounded off to the doorway again, and Turtle found himself thinking that he couldn’t imagine Queen Glory bounding, or in fact getting this excited about anything.

  Outside, the sky was fading into purple-dark, shadows hurrying into all the gaps between the trees. Turtle felt the brush of soft fur as a sloth clambered by right over his head. He could hear snoring coming from a few hammocks already, and the air hummed with the hungry buzz of dusk-happy insects.

  Far below them, a ring of fire smoldered on the forest floor, encircling the shadowy figures of Darkstalker, Queen Glory, and the others. Kinkajou let out a small growl when she saw it.

  “Queen Glory doesn’t usually allow that much fire in our forest,” she whispered. “There are strict rules for the NightWings about how and when and how carefully to use it. She’s definitely fallen for that baboon butt’s act.”

  “Spell,” Turtle reminded her. “It’s a spell.”

  “Let’s get closer.” Kinkajou wafted down toward the gathered dragons as softly as a falling leaf, navigating the interlocking branches with ease. Turtle realized that RainWings must have some ability to see in the dark, just as SeaWings did.

  He followed her, less gracefully and with a bit more noise, but he knew Darkstalker couldn’t hear him.

  They settled near the prison, outside the fiery circle but close enough to hear the dragons inside it. Damp leaves flapped in their faces and things scuttled away beneath their claws. Kinkajou shuffled in closer to Turtle. He could feel her wings brushing his, her scales cool and camouflaged to a dark black-blue.

  Was she really in love with him now? She was acting exactly the same as she always had. But maybe that’s the way she was with everyone, no matter how she felt about them?

  Or maybe she already felt this way about you, way back at the school.

  Turtle shook off that highly unlikely thought. He was not a dragon anyone would notice or fall for — especially when he was standing next to funny Qibli or handsome Winter or kindhearted Umber.

  He felt a pang at the thought of his clawmate. If this is ever over, maybe I could use my magic to find Umber and make sure he’s all right.

  “Did you hear something?” Glory asked, turning to look out at the dark, in the direction of Turtle and Kinkajou.

  “Just an orangutan,” said Darkstalker with a flick of his tail. “I’ll be able to hear the killers’ minds approaching.”

  “I heard a noise,” said Deathbringer, sounding disgruntled, “but of course I can’t see anything because there’s a fire in the way.”

  “Trust me, this will keep your queen safe,” said Darkstalker. “They’ll have to run through the fire to get to her, which they are not brave enough to do — or fly over it, which will let us hear them coming. Although I’ll hear them coming my way first, of course.” He lifted his head and stared piercingly into the dark.

  “He looks like he’s posing for a portrait,” Kinkajou whispered to Turtle. “Pompous Sneerdagard the Magnificent Awaits His Legions of Doomed Enemies.”

  Turtle smothered a laugh. He realized that his wings were less tense than they’d been in days and that this, perhaps, was the best part of sharing his burden with someone else. He hadn’t thought of Chameleon or seen any flashes of blood in his mind since Kinkajou woke up. His constant, pulsing anxiety had ebbed just a little and cracks of hope were sliding in.

  “Shhh,” he said anyway. “He could still hear you.”

  “But he won’t care,” she answered. “I’m less than nobody to him.” She paused. “Yeeeek. I don’t know if I like the sound of that — being less than nobody. Being unimportant to the future. I want to be somebody. Somebody dragons notice and remember.”

  Nope, Turtle thought. Nope nope nope. I gave up on that idea a long time ago. If no one notices you, you
can’t let anyone down.

  Kinkajou was watching him expectantly.

  “Oh!” he said. “Um. You’re somebody to me.”

  She clasped her front talons over her snout to hide her giggles. “Right line,” she said, “but you need to work on your timing. And believability.”

  “You are,” he protested. “I was thinking about something else.”

  “Oh, now I feel very fascinating,” she joked.

  “I’m not sure you’re taking this seriously enough,” he said sternly.

  “Here they come,” Darkstalker rumbled suddenly, in a voice like the first breath of a snowstorm. “I will take care of them, Your Majesty.”

  He stepped over the fire with his towering legs. The flames lapped at his scales but left no marks. Turtle shivered.

  The powerful NightWing stalked away into the night, the ground trembling with every footstep.

  “Ha!” Anemone said merrily from her spot in the center of the circle, as far away from the flames as she could get. “I feel sorry for those assassins! I wouldn’t want to run into him in a dark forest.”

  In a startlingly brief amount of time, Darkstalker came back, accompanied by the noise of clanking chains. As he approached the fire, Turtle realized that he was dragging four dragons behind him, all of them linked by chains around their necks and ankles.

  One of them was a young female NightWing, and she was spitting mad.

  “Let us go!” she hissed at Darkstalker. “Who do you think you are? Are you a NightWing or not? Whose side are you on?”

  “Chains,” Glory murmured. “We don’t usually do chains in the rainforest.”

  “They’re very effective, though,” Deathbringer pointed out. “I much prefer seeing your enemies this way.”

  “Queen Glory,” Darkstalker said. “Here are the dragons who were planning to kill you.” He stopped and blew out most of the fire in one long breath, leaving only a small section of flames. Turtle blinked away the dancing orange spots in his vision as his eyes adjusted back to the dark.