Chapter 24

Here's that chapter I promised. Hope you guys like it.

The five dragonets were fighting. Again.

Bright scales in green and black and gold caught the rising sun as the young dragons darted between the rocks, claws and teeth flashing. Beyond them, below the cliff, the sea crashed against the sand with a muffled rushing sound, as if it didn't want to compete with the shouts of the dragons.

It was embarrassing, was what it was. Nautilus glanced up uneasily at the massive black dragon beside him. The dragonets were so busy yelling at each other that they hadn't even noticed him yet. Nautilus wished he could read Morrowseer's mind like he'd once thought the NightWing could with his.

He also wished there were more Talons of Peace around, but when the word spread that the NightWing was coming, most of them suddenly found urgent missions elsewhere. The peace movement's hideout on the seaside cliffs was virtually deserted this morning. Occasionally a dragon snout would emerge from one of the caves, spot Morrowseer, and instantly vanish again.

The five dragonets were the only ones on top of the cliffs; although there were several other young dragons living with the Talons of Peace, they'd all been whisked out of sight.

But apparently no one had seen fit to warn the objects of Morrowseer's scrutiny that he was coming, or that they were going to be inspected.

"Well," Morrowseer said. "They are...energetic."

"They were just a backup plan," Nautilus said defensively. "Nobody thought we'd need them. Especially not all of them; we thought maybe one, or two, if something went wrong with the originals. We haven't spent a lot of time training them."

"I can see that." Morrowseer's dark eyes narrowed as Viper, the SandWing, fell into a crevice and the MudWing promptly tripped and landed on top of her.

"I'm sorry!" Heron shouted as she scrambled to get off of the dragon she feared she'd crushed. "I'm so sorry!"

Viper didn't seem to care, though, because once she was back on her own talons, she hissed and bit the MudWing's tail, setting off a yowling cry of pain.

Hawk, the orange-red SkyWing dragonet, stepped between the two. "Leave her alone, Viper," he chided. "She said she was sorry!"

"Excuse me," Nautilus said. He could see where this was going. He stepped forward, cuffed Viper's ears, and snatched Squid, the little green SeaWing, out of the way before the others could set his tail on fire.

"Stop this!" he hissed. "You're being watched!"

Morrowseer stepped into the light of the sunrise and looked down his snout majestically.

"Finally," boasted the NightWing dragonet. "Another NightWing. It's about time you got here. These bone-headed salamanders clearly need to be more organized. And, of course, we're the best tribe for that."

"Shut up, Malicious," Hawk thrashed his tail.

"No one asked you," said Viper.

"Yeah, no one asked you," piped up Squid from behind Nautilus's back.

"All you've ever done is brag about how awesome NightWings are," said Heron. "That they're far more superior than the other tribes. You think the whole universe revolves around you and your tribe."

"I never said that," Malicious said. "Well, of course, I did say those first two things, but never that last one. I should have, though, because it's true, isn't it?" He smirked up at Morrowseer with a triumphant gleam in his dark green eyes.

The older NightWing blinked slowly. "Hmmm. Nautilus, a word, please."

"What about us?" the brown dragonet asked. "Can we go home? Please? My sisters and brother have to be worried sick about me."

"Stay. Here." Morrowseer snarled. Heron sat down and curled her tail around her talons with a frightened whimper.

Morrowseer stepped down the rocks, out of earshot. When he turned, he found Nautilus right behind him. But clinging to his tail was the SeaWing dragonet. Morrowseer gazed at Squid disapprovingly.

"I can't leave him alone with them," Nautilus said apologetically. "Whenever I'm not watching, Viper or Malicious bites him."

"Or they both do," sniffed the small green dragon.

Morrowseer flicked his tongue out and in, considering. "It is clear to me," said the enormous NightWing after a moment, "That leaving the dragonets of the prophecy in the care of the Talons of Peace was a mistake. Both the real ones and the false ones."

"Who?" asked the dragonet.

"Hush," said Nautilus, covering the dragonet's snout with one talon. He saw the look on Morrowseer's face and added hastily, "You remember, Squid. We taught you about the prophecy. You know the war that all the dragon tribes are fighting?"

"The one you want to stop," Squid said. "Because we're the good guys! We want peace!" Then he scrunched up his nose. "But it's a fake, isn't it?"

"Right," said Nautilus. "You're absolutely right. But that prophecy may be our only chance at making peace, so bear with me. So, the prophecy says that five dragonets were hatched six years ago - a SeaWing, a SkyWing, a MudWing, a SandWing, and a NightWing - who are going to end the war. They get to choose which sister should be the new SandWing queen: Burn, Blister, or Blaze."

"Oh," said Squid. "Hey, I hatched about six years ago."

"Really," said Morrowseer. "You're barely the size of a three-year-old dragonet."

"I have a big personality," Squid informed him, as if he'd been told this enough times that he was certain everyone knew it.

"And your friends are about six years old, too," Nautilus said quickly.

"They're not my friends," Squid grumbled. "Viper and Malicious are bullies, and Hawk and Heron don't pay any attention to me at all."

Morrowseer glanced back at the dragonets. Heron was curled up into a ball in despair, Hawk was stretching his wings, Viper was snarling at the MudWing, and Malicious was watching him and Nautilus with an expectant look on his face.

"Well, Squid," Nautilus said. "What if you were one of the dragonets in the prophecy? What would you think about that?"

The SeaWing gave Morrowseer a canny look. "Would I get treasure?"

"You'd get fame and power," said Morrowseer. "If you did what you were told, that is."

"How about treasure?" Squid insisted.

Morrowseer gave Nautilus an incredulous look. "Is this dragonet bargaining with me?"

"I like treasure," Squid pointed out. "The Talons of Peace are so lame because none of them have any treasure."

"We gave up worldly things to fight for a higher cause," Nautilus said. "Peace is more important than jewels or gold."

"Eh," said Squid. "I'd rather have gold."

"Would you be willing to choose whichever SandWing queen we told you to?" Morrowseer asked. "If so, we could perhaps talk about gold."

"All right," Squid said with a gleam in his eye. "But I don't want Malicious to be a part of it. Or Viper. Or Hawk."

"There's nothing wrong with your NightWing," Morrowseer told Nautilus. "The SandWing, on the other talon, is brainlessly violent. And what's he complaining about the SkyWing for?"

"Nothing," Nautilus said. "Hawk and Squid just rub each other up the wrong way, that's all."

"He never pays attention to me!" Squid said. "It's not fair! I'm special! Everyone should notice me!"

"The SkyWing is nonnegotiable," said Morrowseer.

"You're nonagoshabibble," Squid said.

"Squid, be polite," said Nautilus tiredly.

"I foresee that I am going to regret this," said Morrowseer, frowning down at the SeaWings. "But I will be taking over the training of the prophecy dragonets. They have been mishandled for too long. Obviously they need clearer guidance."

"What does that mean?" Nautilus asked. A sense of dread was starting to creep across his scales. He glanced at Squid. Perhaps they should have chosen a different SeaWing to be the fake dragonet of the prophecy. If Morrowseer hurts Squid...if anything happens to him...his mother is going to kill me, Nautilus thought.

"It means they're coming with me," Morrowseer said with a flick of his tail.

"Where?" Squid demanded.

"You'll find out when we get there," said Morrowseer. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll stop asking nosy questions and do what you're told."

"I can do that," Squid said, "But good luck with Viper." He thought for a moment. "And Malicious, for that matter."

"Wait, no," said Nautilus. There was so much noise in his mind that he could barely think straight. "You can't take them. Except for Malicious, who came from you, all their parents are Talons - that's how we got their eggs in the first place. They won't want them to leave."

"Except Heron," Squid offered. "Her mom won't care. It's a MudWing thing."

"Shut up," said Morrowseer. He studied Nautilus with narrow black eyes.

Oh no, Nautilus thought with dread.

"Three moons," Morrowseer said with disgust. "This dragonet is your son."

Nautilus stared down at his claws. It had seemed like a good idea when the Talons first decided to have backup dragonets. Squid hatched around the right time, if not exactly on the brightest night. And it meant that everyone in the movement treated the dragonet like the precious creature Nautilus knew he was.

"Of course I am," said Squid. "Isn't it a funny coincidence? Wow. I'm the son of the leader of the Talons of Peace and a dragonet of destiny." He puffed out his chest. "Fake prophecy is better than no prophecy. I'm even more important than I thought I was." He strutted off toward the other dragonets, having forgotten, as he often did, that none of them liked hearing about how important he was and that he would almost certainly end up with a singed snout before long.

Nautilus watched him go, wondering how everything had gone so wrong. Why had the Talons agreed to work with Morrowseer? Why had they decided to get involved with a prophecy that turned out to be phony? And how had they lost the original dragonets? That was the question that drove him crazy.

Kestrel, Dune, and Webs should have been able to keep a handle on five dragonets, especially when they were conveniently trapped in a secret cave. Instead, the dragonets had escaped, killed Queen Scarlet of the SkyWings, turned Queen Coral against her allies, wrecked the SeaWing palace, and disappeared once more into the wilds of Pyrrhia.

Worse yet, there was no one to punish. Kestrel and Dune were dead, while Webs had wriggled away from the Talons and vanished. And who knew where the dragonets were or when they'd turn up again with their spectacular talent for trouble and chaos.

"Quite a coincidence," Morrowseer echoed Squid's remark, sounding rather unimpressed.

"Well," said Nautilus. "I thought, why not? Of course, none of those five actually hatched on the brightest night, or else the prophecy would be real, wouldn't it? But they're about the right age, and nobody has to know the rest."

"Except anyone who was at their hatching," Morrowseer mused. "It would be tidier if we could kill any witnesses."

Nautilus blanched. Do their parents count as "witnesses"? he wondered before he could squelch the thought.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Morrowseer said briskly. "Since we can't be sure yet which ones we'll use and which we'll discard." He shifted his gaze over to Malicious, who had tripped Squid with his tail.

Nautilus felt properly faint now. "Discard?" he echoed.

Morrowseer snorted. "Very well. I'll try to bring yours back in one piece." He wrinkled his snout, looking as close to amused as Nautilus had ever seen him. "But isn't peace the most important thing, SeaWing? Don't you tell your Talons all the time that any sacrifice must be made to end the war?"

"Yes, but -"

"The alternate dragonets were your idea in the first place," Morrowseer hissed softly. "A good idea, as it turns out, since those six have proven to be so unsatisfactory."

"Wait, what? Six?" asked Nautilus. "How can there be six?"

Morrowseer deliberately ignored the question. "So we get rid of the most dangerous ones. I train their replacements myself."

He smiled in a way that made Nautilus feel queasy right down to his claws.

"And then we make sure my prophecy is fulfilled the way it's supposed to be."

Windracer was dreaming, but it wasn't so much a dream as it was a memory.

He was waiting by the cave entrance when Webs rolled the boulder aside and came in. His wings unfurled and he leaned forward, trying to see the guardian's claws.

"Just one this time," Webs said, untangling a scroll from the net full of fish he was carrying. He tossed it to Windracer, who caught it and examined it thoroughly. It was damp around the edges and smelled like fish, but he'd take anything that he hadn't already read through more than five times. He had to study, to learn more about the outside world. How else were he and his friends supposed to figure out how to save it?

He carried it to the study cave and found Arid curled in the small beam of sunlight that came through the hole in the roof. A dreamy sigh escaped his throat, but he didn't notice. Her scales gleamed as though they'd been polished, her claws were perfectly curled crescents, and the way the rays caught her spikes made them glimmer like were made of diamonds. He didn't care what the guardians said, she was talons down the most beautiful dragon on Pyrrhia.

His heart skipped a beat when she opened her blue eyes and smiled at him.

"A new scroll?" she asked. "What's this one about?"

He sat down next to her and unrolled it carefully. "It's about us," he said. Then he added hastily, "I mean, all of us, the dragonets of destiny, the ones who are going to save the world." His eyes scanned the text quickly. "It's all theories about where we are and who might be part of the prophecy and how it might come true."

Arid sat up and peered over his shoulder, her scales pressing against his. "Sounds interesting."

"It says there were seventeen SeaWing dragonets who hatched on the brightest night, but only six of them were from blue eggs, and maybe it's none of them because perhaps there were other SeaWing eggs outside the Kingdom of the Sea. Like offspring of the Talons of Peace, it says."

"Or an egg that was stolen by the Talons," Arid pointed out, with a hint of contempt in her voice.

"Right. It doesn't mention that possibility." Windracer went quiet, reading a little further.

"Does it say anything about the SandWing egg?" she asked curiously.

"The author seems confused about that." Windracer rolled the scroll along, searching for references to SandWings. "He, or she, says if a SandWing dragonet hatched on its own in the desert somewhere, it couldn't have survived. So it must be someone's egg - maybe from the Talons of Peace again. That would explain 'hidden away from the rival queens', right?"

"Maybe you should skip ahead to the part about stopping the war," Arid said. "I'm sure you have a few ideas yourself, but I'd like to see what this dragon thinks. You know, just for kicks."

Windracer nodded, rolling the scroll through his talons. He paused on the word SkyWing. "It says something about how there aren't any SkyWings left that hatched on the brightest night. That's weird. There must be some in the Sky Kingdom."

Before he could say, or do, anything else, a twinge of pain started creeping up his temples and into his forehead. He shut his eyes, and a strange image slowly pieced itself together in his mind.

A SkyWing. One he had never seen before. Very small, smaller than Kestrel, smaller than him, maybe even smaller than they were supposed to be. Who were they? Where were they? Were they important somehow?

He snapped out of it when he heard Arid call out to him. "Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said, lifting a talon to rub his head. "I just...I blacked out for a minute, but I'm okay."

But he wasn't. Not really. He knew he'd just had a vision, but he didn't want to be having those. If becoming a "powerful NightWing" like the guardians wanted meant that he could potentially hurt his friends, then he didn't want any part in that.

He kept reading, hoping to keep Arid close to him for as long as possible.

"Here," he said. "Possible ways for the dragonets to fulfill the prophecy. Um...all right, theory number one is that all of the dragonets are royal daughters, so they'll all become queens of their tribes and end the war that way."

Arid snorted with laughter. "I can totally see Bog as a MudWing princess."

He managed to let out a chuckle before his face contorted into a thoughtful frown. "It doesn't make sense, though, without an IceWing - and it means you'd have to be the next SandWing queen."

Arid's laughter dwindled down into a smile as she considered that. "Well, I have to admit, Queen Arid does have a nice ring to it."

He couldn't tell if that was supposed to be a joke, or if she was being serious. He'd have to ask her about it later.

"All right, theory number two -" he started, when suddenly a commotion of running claws sounded from the tunnel.

They both looked up as Kestrel burst into the room with Dune and Webs right behind her.

"Give me that," Kestrel snarled, snatching the scroll out of Windracer's talons. She peered at the paper, then whipped around to glare at Webs. "What were you thinking? Handing them any piece of trash you find on the beach?"

"The fish trader gave it to me," Webs said defensively. "She knows I'm always looking for new scrolls. I didn't have time to read it, but I didn't think it sounded that bad."

"Where Are the Dragonets of Destiny?" Kestrel read off the title. "That doesn't sound dangerous to you? Filling their heads with questions and ideas?"

"It's not his fault," Windracer piped up, despite everything in his right mind screaming at him to not to. "I just ran out of scrolls to read, so I thought -"

"Quiet!" Kestrel snapped. "We'll tell you everything you need to know about the prophecy. You don't need a pile of gossip and rumors and speculation cluttering up your tiny little minds. This is not for you." She waved the scroll before pointing it at him. "You. Battle training. NOW." She turned and stomped out of the cave with the other guardians close behind her.

If dragons could literally shrink in shame, Windracer was sure he'd be the size of a pea by now. To add insult to injury, he didn't even know what it was he'd done wrong.

"Are you just going to let her do that?" Arid asked. "She took your scroll! Don't you feel even a little mad?"

"I do," he said truthfully. "But it's not gonna do me any good. Roaring until my throat gives out or slashing up the walls until my claws fall off isn't going to get my scroll back. Knowing Kestrel, it'll be a pile of ashes before dinner. Besides, that scroll wasn't going to have all of the answers. Nobody really knows how the prophecy will unfold. We just have to always do what we know is right and, if luck's with us, fate will take us in the right direction."

"Maybe," Arid said. "But I'm more of an old-fashioned 'take it down with my tail and then slash its head off' kind of dragon."

"That's true," he said, feeling again how lucky he was. Of all the caves in all of Pyrrhia - of all the eggs that could have been chosen - somehow his and hers had wound up here, and two dragons who probably would have never met otherwise were together.

And that's how we'll always be, he thought.

"Hey!"

Something nosed Windracer in the ribs, and he woke up with a small yelp of pain.

"Are you awake?" Tiny claws lifted Windracer's eyelids, and something blurry came way too close to his snout to peer at him.

"Mmmmf?" Windracer said through a metal clamp that was binding his mouth shut. He tried to push the something away, but his talons felt heavy and he missed.

"Oh, sorry," said the little voice. "Am I too close? It's just, well, I've never really seen a dragon like you before." The tiny claws poked at his snout. "What are you?"

"Mmmmf," Windracer said again. His head hurt. His wings hurt. His left hind leg hurt. Everything hurt. Nevertheless, he pushed himself up and blinked his eyes until the world came into focus.

A small snout hovered only a few inches from his. Gigantic purple eyes peered out of purple and pink scales. The little RainWing dragonet couldn't have been more than four years old. He poked Windracer's snout again.

"Don't worry, I know you can't talk. They don't have a gag small enough to fit me. Well, either that or they decided my venom wasn't strong enough or I couldn't shoot it far enough to be dangerous, or something, I guess, which is actually kinda true, because it's been a while since I last practiced. Not that I hate practice, because I love it, but I'm worried about what might happen if they ever caught me trying to train myself."

Windracer sat up so he could look around. The pain in his broken wing and his injured leg flared viciously, and he had to grit his teeth because he couldn't scream.

When his eyes opened fully, he realized that the blurriness around him wasn't just his vision. The air was hazy with smoke. Pulsing heat wafted over his scales, although he couldn't see any sign of fire. He glanced up and saw jagged stone walls pressing close overhead. It seemed like the heat was coming from the rocks themselves.

His wings were bound to his sides, and thick cloth was wrapped around his claws. Thick, heavy chains were wrapped all around his neck, all four of his legs, and even his tail. The other ends of them had been jammed into the stone walls all around him, with hardened masses of melted metal undoubtedly caused by dragon fire securing them in place.

I'm a prisoner again, he thought. Great.

He didn't need to ask, he knew it was the NightWings. But why would they cover him in chains from head to tail when they knew he could easily cast a spell to free himself?

They must know about my insecurity somehow, he reasoned. If they can't read minds, they must have figured out some other way to eavesdrop on other dragons, something that could create the illusion that they still have telepathic powers. They know I won't use my magic, even if I have to.

"I know I'm not much help," said the RainWing, tilting his head sympathetically. "But I thought maybe you could use some company. I know I did, when I first woke up in this scary place. My name's Poisondart, by the way, in case you were wondering."

Windracer had been wondering, actually. He'd also been wondering how far he could go with the chains on. The way they looked, he could only take about half a dozen steps in each direction before they'd started to tug on him.

"I know what you're thinking," said Poisondart. "I've gotten pretty good at that, especially since I'm the only prisoner who can talk, so I have to try and imagine the other side of every conversation I have. You're wondering where we are, and trust me, you do not want to know. There are lava rivers everywhere, we can barely take a breath of fresh air because of all the smoke, and don't even get me started on the black dragons. Sinister, right? I mean, who in their right mind would ever want to live in a death trap like this?"

Windracer knew the answer to that. He didn't want to, but he did.

This is the secret home of the NightWings.

Not looking too good for Windracer so far. But don't worry, the good guys always win.

Auburn - Valka
Windracer - Hiccup
Arid - Astrid
Lagoon - Heather
Bog - Fishlegs
Marmoset and Mango - Tuffnut and Ruffnut
Killer - Stoick
Inferno - Snotlout
Scorch - Spitelout
Frost - Dagur
Malicious - Hroar