Author's Note: Sorry this took so long, everyone! I'm on vacation, and have been neglecting my duties, it seems :P But I do hope you all enjoy this chapter! Some fluff and some plot development. Please don't forget to leave me a review - I've been loving all of your feedback!
Chapter Thirty Five
Moon tried to control the shake in her legs and the clenching of her stomach as she made her way towards the dining hall. Her heart raced and she had to control her breathing. This was ridiculous, she told herself, she needed to get control of herself before she met with Darkstalker. He could read her like an open book, even without seeing into her mind, and she didn't want to upset him.
But the adrenaline coursing through her veins made her feel jumpy. It was only just occurring to her how much danger she'd been in. Vulture was not a dragon to poke about and find out the consequences. He'd lived a long, brutal life, and in each scar was the story of his battles and in each tattoo was the memory of a kill. And he was covered in both. Darkstalker had also fought and killed dragons, as had Peril, a part of her mind argued. But with Vulture, it seemed different, because Vulture relished in the lives he'd taken. He was unapologetic about it, his mind did not hide that from her. To Moon, that made him more dangerous than the dragons she knew who could hurt her with only a thought or a touch.
The most troubling aspect of all of this, she realised, was just how much Vulture reminded her of Qibli. The two were alike in a lot of ways. They both thought the same way, could observe things about a dragon most would miss, and could cleverly deduce their motivations or their exact intentions. They also came from similar backgrounds and it influenced how they perceived the world. In Vulture's case, he was bitter about how the world had treated him and wanted an eye for an eye. Yet with Qibli, he'd also come from poverty, had seen the worst behaviours in dragons and wanted to fight back against those dragons specifically, whilst protecting others from suffering the same fate he had. It was unsettling to think that Qibli and his grandfather were like two sides of the same coin, that Vulture was what Qibli could become, if he went down a dark and twisted future.
She shook her head, banishing these disturbing thoughts from her mind. She could hear Darkstalker's thoughts calling to her. He was in the Queen's dining hall, and she could tell from the happiness colouring his thoughts that he was excited about something. It would be unfair to spoil his mood with her personal grievances. Taking a deep breath, she washed her mind in the comforting melody she often found permanently residing within the many levels of his brain. It made her smile, easing the tension in her shoulders.
The Queen's dining hall was one of the rooms in the castle more recently renovated. The thick drapes now had a sheen to their deep colour as if they were new, the tassels a sparkling gold. The fireplace was no longer cracked, and the chandeliers neither held any cobwebs or broken pieces left hanging. No more was the room dark and macabre, instead it felt warm and luxurious. Darkstalker had already turned to greet her before she'd entered.
"Ah, Moon! Look what I managed to snag for you in the early hours of the night." He grinned and moved his tail out from behind his back. With a flick, two round objects sailed through the air and landed neatly in the palms of his talons. "I found a small grove in the north eastern corner of the kingdom! You did say they were one of your favourites."
He held them out to her, and Moon felt her own smile grow wide as she delicately took one, feeling its hide in her hand. "Oh, Darkstalker, thank you! That's really sweet."
"I know they are, but what am I?"
"That was awful and you know it." She chortled, smacking him with a wing. He laughed, ducking away.
They both sat down to eat, Moon relishing in the sweet taste that transported her mind back to a time she could barely remember, of being snuggled against her mother's warmth, eating mangoes in the moonlight. Darkstalker had brought other fruits for her to enjoy, some of which she recognised from the small grove of quick-growing fruits they'd planted a month ago, their first "harvest" as it were. It felt oddly gratifying to taste something they'd worked on. He'd also caught himself a ringtail racoon to eat, as he still had a much larger appetite than her.
"You know," Moon said, swallowing down a strawberry (for some reason Darkstalker wasn't really interested in them, and only picked them for her sake). "Considering we're less than a week away from your hatchingday, you shouldn't be the one giving out gifts."
"Yes," he said, side-eyeing her, "but this is the only way I can keep up the suspense. You won't let me check the futures-"
"Not if it means spoiling the surprise."
"But what if I don't like it? I'm not saying that I definitely won't, I mean, it's from you, of course I'm going to love it. But let's say you do get me something awful, I need to be prepared to have a good acting face."
"Darkstalker, for once, let me be the one to get the drop on you." She poked his ribs with a claw, it wasn't as easy to distinguish his them as it had been before, but she could still feel them with pressure. Finishing her meal, she cleaned her talons in a very cat-like way, and stood. "Alright. What are we doing tonight?"
"We don't have to do much, actually," Darkstalker shrugged. "Vulture has had his goons out in the city doing the manual repairs to some of the cliffside homes. All we need to do is oversee their work and then make the correct spell we need."
At the mention of Vulture, Moon couldn't help but feel a cold sensation in her gut, the old SandWing's simmering anger haunting her mind. She pushed the thoughts away, touching her wing-claw to her diamond-silver earring as a form of comfort. She didn't want to do anything that involved Vulture, not even indirectly. And then a thought, a fanciful and wishful thought sprung to her mind, and before she could think of the logistics of it, she blurted: "Why don't we not?"
Darkstalker frowned, confused. "Pardon?"
"Why don't we, just for tonight, have a night with no magic at all?" The more she thought about it, her mind working out how they would manage this idea, the more excited she became. "We've been using magic almost non-stop since we arrived here, Darkstalker. Let's have just one night where we don't have to worry about work and instead we'll just have some fun."
"Why must magic be specifically excluded for us to have fun?"
"Tell you what: if you can go the whole night without resorting to magic even once, then tomorrow night, I shall give you permission to cast any spell you wish - within reason, of course."
Darkstalker scratched his neck, his eyes narrowing in that way he did when he was thinking something over. Moon pushed into his head all her emotions of feeling genuinely happy and thrilled at this idea. After a moment, Darkstalker winced and relented. "Well, okaaaaaaaaay, I suppose?"
With a spring in her step, Moon led the way to the closest door leading out into the night. She led the way away from the castle, down towards the streams and the rivers that would eventually spill out into the ocean. Darkstalker followed her, undoubtedly watching with great confusion as she plucked up seemingly random shells, pebbles and shards from the riverbed, all in various different colours. Most were on a monochromatic scale, but with each one Moon could see an image forming in her head, and it only pushed her excitement.
When they'd gathered all the pebbles they could carry, they flew back towards the castle. Moon took them back towards the entrance hall, just a step away from the throne room, and carefully laid her treasures down. Darkstalker had been probing at her mind the entire time, trying to see if he could get any detail of her plan from her thoughts. But she was careful to keep it behind the magical protection of her earring, so he couldn't get anything from her just yet.
Eventually, he had to ask, "Why do we even have all this junk?"
"One of the MudWings in the Rebellion," Moon said, putting the shells and pebbles into piles based on their colour, "told me that Queen Moorhen's palace is decorated in beautiful mosaics. Paintings and tapestries don't last very long in the damp of the swamps. I saw it in his mind, putting so many little pieces together to make a bigger picture. I always thought it would be fun to do. Now we can do it together."
"What will we even make?"
"There are so many art pieces around the castle, telling the history of our tribe. Maybe we should add to it?"
She shared in her mind with him what she imagined the finished product to be. It was probably much grander than what she was capable of making. Moon had never really acquired an artistic talent, but she was still eager to try her hand at this. Darkstalker's growing interest surrounded her thoughts as he beheld the image she presented to him. A mosaic picture of her and Darkstalker stood on the hilltop, the City of Night remade, and the NightWings finally coming home. It was the future she wanted to come true. No more war, no more resentment and fear. Only hope and contentment. Darkstalker's eyes met hers, the silver-blue iris glimmering in the light of the iron chandelier above them. He gave her a small smile and nodded, taken by her dream.
They went back out into the night and gathered together the materials they would need to craft a cement to hold their image. When they'd finally returned, they carefully placed the bowl between them and started setting to work. It was… a little ungraceful at first. They both had to experiment with the right amount of cement that would hold the pebbles and yet not overflow and make a mess. Then came the messy business of getting something wrong and trying to remove it and replant it somewhere else before the cement set. They sat at their work for about an hour, and Moon thought they were making good progress.
"I had quite forgotten how dreadfully boring manual labour is," Darkstalker said. "It's so tedious and frustrating. You have to constantly check your mistakes, redo things. Magic would make this go by so much quicker."
Moon rolled her eyes. "And then all the fun would be over."
"But I could enchant it to be perfect."
"Darkstalker, do you wish to opt out of the deal?"
He did think about it for a moment, but she could tell his wish to succeed outweighed his wish to cheat. "No."
"I think there's something to appreciate when you make it with your own talons. It makes it special."
"Special?"
"I mean, look at this castle…" she gestured up to the vaulted ceiling, to the banners swaying gently in the breeze from an open window. "Think about the fact that talons carved the stone, arms carried the bricks, architects worked countless hours calculating every angle and curve. No magic made this all pop up, dragons had to work for all of this. Especially when you think about how, when this and all the other palaces and great monuments were built, our ancestors weren't as knowledgeable as we are now. And yet somehow they made all this? It makes me feel a sense of awe."
Darkstalker stared where she pointed, and his mind closed off to her briefly. His eyes lingered on the intricately carved throne, the silver star map on the dias. The buttresses and the carved statues. Then he looked down at his own talons dirtied from their work, his claws opening and closing into fists. "Magic isn't so bad, Moon… is it?"
That was a hard question… "I used to think so." And then, hidden in the pile, she produced a single white pebble, the stone Darkstalker had enchanted that night on the battlements, to be able to tell when someone was lying. She placed the Lying Stone in his hand, closing his claws around it. "Now, I know that it's just like any dagger, or spear. It can cause harm, and it can do good. It all depends on who's wielding it."
He blinked rapidly, and if Moon was not mistaken, he looked as if ready to shed a tear. Clutching the stone to his breast he gazed into her eyes, and for a moment, Moon felt as if all the barriers to her mind and soul had been stripped and he could see the very essence of her being. Giving her a watery smile, he gently coated the back of the Lying Stone with cement and placed it in the centre of a full moon in their mosaic.
They went back to their work and tried their hardest to complete it in a reasonable amount of time. However, it soon devolved into play fights and teasing, and Moon wasn't exactly sure who threw the first glob of cement. It was the early hours of dawn by the time they were finished, dirtied and stiff. They sat back and surveyed their work, and as Moon had earlier stated, she felt an immense sense of pride in seeing something she had helped to create. It was by no means a masterpiece work of art - some proportions were wonky, and not all their colours matched exactly. That wasn't to say it was horrendous, for one could clearly make out what the piece described. Darkstalker sat on a hill beside the Mountain and the Lost City, his wings outstretched, welcoming home the NightWing tribe, with Moon stood beside him.
"Okay," said Moon, trying to hold back a chuckle. "I know it's not perfect…"
Darkstalker tilted his head, but his teasing smirk betrayed him. "I didn't realise NightWings could have three shoulders…"
"Hey! That was the only stone I had to work with," she giggled, shoving at him with her wing. They both laughed. And after a while, Moon breathed in deep, and smiled. "But this was fun. And I can laugh at our lack of artistry every time I wake up."
"What makes you think you can hoard it away? It's staying right here!"
"At the entrance to the throne room?"
"Of course!" He swept a wing wide towards the great doors. "I want to make sure every NightWing who enters these halls acknowledges our grand work of art!"
Moon laughed again.
As the sun rose that morning into a clear and spotless sky, it cast its dazzling rays from east to west, until finally setting the land ablaze in the seemingly endless dunes of the Kingdom of Sand. Each and every grain took in the bountiful light and heat and reflected it back, like countless disciples to their prophet. Within an hour the heat of the desert washed over Qibli's scales like it was welcoming him home at long last. He had never been uncomfortable in other parts of Pyrrhia, but there was nothing quite like the feel of the dry air, or the oppressive warmth that came from seemingly all angles. It roasted his blood, seeming to fill him with energy that had been lacking in him until now. In his giddiness, he almost left Turtle and Kinkajou behind as he soared across the desert.
But reality returned quickly, as the dunes swept by and suddenly he was met with the old, grim walls of the Scorpion Den. The cracked rooftops and smoking chimney stacks peeked just over the top. Younger SandWings could be seen zipping between roofs, likely fleeing the prey they had just stolen from or otherwise attempting to avoid being taken advantage of themselves. Burly thugs acting like guards stalked the crumbling walls and the main gate, each covered in scars and tattoos. What once might've been a sprawling city of grandeur now was a lurking shadow of hidden maliciousness. Old instincts settled into Qibli's stomach, telling him to always be alert, to find a minimum of five escape routes - just in case. The Scorpion Den was a dangerous place, and one not to be traversed lightly. He settled down behind a dune about a hundred yards from the city wall, just to the south of the main gate. There was no way they would be able to go through the front door, those thugs worked for someone (likely, Qibli's own grandfather) and would report their strange party to their superiors faster than they could get away. So they would need to sneak in over the wall.
"Okay," Qibli said in a low voice, turning back to his companions. "Remember what I said. Keep yourselves quiet and your heads low. Kinkajou, remember to keep your scales-"
"Like yours, I know." She bounced on her talons, excited, and shifted her scales from cherry-blossom pink, to a more white-yellow. She pinned back her ruff, and made the scales at the tip of her tail brown to more resemble a SandWing barb. It still amazed Qibli how she could so perfectly mimic the things she saw and maintain that disguise almost without thinking.
"Good. With luck, anyone who looks long enough'll just think you're a funny looking Hybrid." Just like Sunny. There were plenty of hybrids in the Scorpion Den, as they weren't welcome in most other places; though they tended to keep a low profile. "Turtle? You still got your pine-cone?"
"Sure." As proof, he pulled said-magical-pinecone from the bag he always kept around his chest. Qibli got a brief look at the enchanted stick just poking out of the bag, the one that made it impossible for Darkstalker to know of Turtle's existence.
"Great. Hopefully no one will pay too close attention to you." Qibli peeked again over the dune and waited until the guards appeared to be gathering themselves in order to finish their shift. Qibli had hoped the old schedules had remained the same, it was why he'd hoped to get here precisely at this time. "The pair of you just stay close to me and do as I do."
As soon as the guards turned their backs - likely to groan at the ones due to replace them - Qibli raced out towards the wall. He couldn't look back, had to have faith that Turtle and Kinkajou were right behind him. Straight ahead he went to the wall and found the chink in the brickwork that would provide the perfect foothold. How many times had he had to sneak in and out of the city? It was like being transported back in time; and he didn't exactly know how to feel about that… With one push, he was halfway up the wall. It was cracked here, broken in a V shape like the lip of a damaged vase. It allowed him to squeeze through and leap into the city in a matter of seconds. Right behind an old shack, just as he remembered!
He turned in time to see Kinkajou and Turtle jump down beside him. He smiled, pleased that they'd managed to keep up with him. Now came the difficult part. With a nod, he led the way. From behind the shack, Qibli wove down several back alleys and side streets until he came level with the market. He dared not got out there. Too many eyes, too many distractions - more of a chance for him to not realise if they were being followed. Even from this distance, they could hear the ruckus of different vendors trying to sell their wares, the different scents of various food stalls, the heat of the sun bouncing off many scales and into the darkness of the alleys. Turtle stuck close and kept his head down. Kinkajou was more inquisitive, her eyes going wide at every bright colour, her ears pricking up at every new voice. But she still kept pace.
It was almost unnerving how Qibli still remembered the entire layout of the Scorpion Den like the back of his talon. He was pretty sure he could traverse it blindfolded. Right there was the piece of graffiti that'd been there since he was two. Over there was the same door with a crooked handle, like it was pointing the direction to go. And on this street were the many washing lines filled with sheets and rugs and garments left out to dry. But that knowledge could serve him well now. He needed it to find Thorn's base. A couple of times, the path they took would've led to a dead end. But Qibli either knew the paths around it, or how to find a hidden means to get through it. His days as a street-rat had taught him well.
"Wow," Kinkajou whispered. "You really know what you're doing here!"
Qibli smiled sheepishly. "I think I'd sooner forget how to fly than shrug off how to survive the Scorpion Den."
There was a tickle at the back of his neck. A ball in his stomach. An old instinct telling him he was being watched. Trying to act casual, Qibli swung his head back as if he meant to ask Turtle something. He used the moment to look around, but he could not spot any obvious spy. It unnerved him. Making a sudden turn, he took a longer route through the city, hoping to shake his stalker off in the winding and twisting streets. Eventually, he decided the quicker he got to Thorn, the safer they'd be.
They approached the old safehouse: what looked like a warehouse but would have access to a garden and tents for all Thorn's soldiers. She always took care of her people, that was what Qibli most admired about her. And there was the little drawing on the doorframe, what looked like a child's scribble but was actually a tell that this place belonged to Thorn.
Qibli stopped on the threshold. "Wait a minute."
"What is it?" Turtle whispered.
"Something's wrong, this is too easy."
Kinkajou huffed impatiently. "I don't think so. It's just an open doorway. Maybe not all doors are special. What makes a special door? What makes some doors worth all the guards or traps or-"
Abruptly, the thin leather straps of a bolas wound around Qibli's legs. He fell with a yell. Two thuds behind him not a second later told him that Turtle and Kinkajou had also been caught. Qibli squirmed, but before he could turn his head to get a look at his attackers, a sack was pulled over his head, and the world went dark. Before he could even think of using his flames, someone wrapped a cord around his snout, to keep it shut. Talons grabbed hold of him and began to drag him away. A thump on his flank, and he felt a hard unyielding surface press against his side. Ah, so they'd been loaded into a wagon. They were transported away. Qibli could feel Turtle trying to wriggle free, and Qibli was a hissing maelstrom. Acting quickly, Qibli bumped the pair of them with his bound tail, and whispered out of the side of his mouth for them both to comply. They quietened, but only begrudgingly. Qibli could only hope that his hunch was correct.
When they finally stopped, the three of them were pulled from the wagon and their feet unbound. Qibli could feel cobblestones under his talons, and could smell salt somewhere close by. Someone was guiding him up a set of stairs. Somewhere behind him, he heard Turtle stumble a little on one of the steps.
"Here they are," said a voice when they'd reached the top of the stairs. Qibli could feel a breeze brush past his neck. Somewhere far above, he heard a hawk. They were on a roof.
Another voice growled in their throat. "Well come on, then! Take those bags off. Three moons, we haven't got all day."
At once, Qibli recognised the voice. His heart skipped several beats. Every muscle in his body wanted to move at once. Someone yanked the bag off his head, and light almost blinded him. Once his sight adjusted, he fixed his eyes on the dragoness in front of him. Wiry and compact, just as he remembered, the brown speckles on her spine and wings was a sight for sore eyes. The very image of Thorn made Qibli want to melt into the floor. He felt safe and happy, in a way he hadn't in a very long time - without even realising it. He wanted to run to her, embrace her, shout at her.
Instead, he grinned like an idiot. "See guys? My detective skills are so great I brought us right here."
Turtle rubbed his eyes and said a little gruffly, "I'm pretty sure that doesn't count if we got kidnapped…"
"Don't bother arguing with his big-headedness," said Thorn, rolling her eyes playfully. "I find it just encourages him."
And then she reached out her wings and folded Qibli into her embrace. He wasn't expecting it at first, but as soon as he felt her warmth, he succumbed to it. It was surprising to realise that he'd grown in the years they'd been apart. They were around a similar size now. But Qibli didn't mind, he just wanted to revel in this feeling. Was this what other dragons experienced when they were hugged by their mothers? Why couldn't his own mother do the same for him?
"It's good to see you, ankle-biter," Thorn rumbled warmly as she stepped back from him.
"You didn't need to bother with the bags and secrecy, you know," said Qibli. "I might've thought you'd missed me."
All at once the energy seemed to leave Thorn's frame. Her wings drooped and she looked tired… old… "Had to be done, I'm afraid. Sorry, Qibli."
Seeing Thorn this bleak was not what he was used to. He didn't know how to react; she was always the strong one, the one that always looked on the positives. Leaning forward, he brushed his wing against hers. "Hey, you okay?"
"Nothing I can't handle," she took a deep breath, trying to muster a smile, though it wouldn't reach her dark eyes. She stalked to the edge of the rooftop, looking out over the city. "My spies caught you at the gates. Unfortunately, Blister's did too. No doubt she would've had you followed to try and learn the location of our base. That's why we grabbed you when we did."
"You mean we weren't even at the base when you rudely snatched us?" Kinkajou asked indignantly. "See! I told you that door wasn't very special-looking."
"But it was a good way to throw Blister's soldiers off the scent," Thorn pointed down to the streets. "Look."
Qibli joined her at the edge. Several streets over, he could just make out the alley leading to the warehouse that should have been Thorn's base. A dozen dragons were marching on it, and at their head, Qibli was shocked to recognise his mother and sister! The two females were agitated, their tails lashing and their heads leant forward in aggression. On their word, a soldier threw something into the warehouse door. A moment later an explosion rocked the building. Turtle and Kinkajou squawked in fright. Qibli didn't blame them, as his mind too leapt back to the bomb planted in Jade Mountain by Icicle. When did his mother get access to SkyWing dragonflame cactus? As soon as the initial explosion was over, Cobra and Rattlesnake led the charge with their soldiers to swarm the former base. Qibli felt his mouth go dry at the thought that he had somehow caused this.
"Mother… Rattlesnake?" he whispered.
"Yeesh, your family is scary-looking," Kinkajou said. "It's kind of nice you're the softest one, makes you loads more approachable than them."
Thorn brushed his wing. "They've been working for Blister for some time. They are the embodiment of her cruelty and ruthlessness. And they use their status as her henchmen to broaden their operation across the Kingdom."
"Grandfather finally did it. He finally got into the palace." Qibli stared off into space, eyes wide and mind racing. Vulture, the head of the family and the shadow that had plagued Qibli's every nightmare, had always strived for power and influence across the Kingdom of Sand. He'd been born into poverty and made his gang from nothing, at first as a small gambling scam, then into smuggling and pit-fighting. But it had never been enough. Vulture had always wanted more. It was never enough, he'd longed to have a foothold in the palace, to rub elbows with those that had always previously looked down on him. To think he'd finally achieved that… was terrifying. "Wait a minute, where's Sirocco? He's usually never far from Rattlesnake."
"We don't know," Thorn's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the only tell that this fact bothered her. "I haven't been able to get a good spy in your Grandfather's gang in months. Last I heard, there was a commotion around his complex a few nights past. They caught an old thief who crossed Vulture some time ago."
"Well, they're dead then."
Turtle swallowed nervously. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because nobody crosses my grandfather and lives. He gets them all eventually."
"As much as I know you're worried about what he's up to, your grandfather is the least of my concerns right now." Again, there was that look on Thorn's face as if she'd aged fifty years since Qibli had last seen her. She looked like she needed several nights' worth of good rest. "The Kingdom of Sand is falling apart. Blister has one of her soldiers move in on every street, spying on their neighbours. They're starving dragons out of their incomes or abducting them in the middle of the night at the slightest hints of disloyalty. More dragons are being hurt than I can protect…"
Qibli put a talon on her shoulder, his heart rate climbing. "Thorn?"
"The truth is," she sighed, "my resistance is on its last legs."
"That can't be!" Kinkajou exclaimed, scales turning green-white with alarm. "You're the only hope Sunny and the others have for fighting in this Kingdom."
"I know. But for the past year, Blister has managed to stay one step ahead of us. I haven't told Sunny because I didn't want her to worry. She has so much on her shoulders already."
Turtle shook his head. "She would appreciate the truth more."
"Hey!" Qibli turned on his friends, abruptly mad that they would dare suggest this was her fault. "Thorn's doing her best!"
"It's alright, Qibli." Thorn hushed him gently. "We can't escape the facts. I might not be in this situation now if I had confided in my daughter. That's a lesson I won't soon forget, if we live through this."
"What can we do?"
"Unfortunately, there isn't much we can do. Not unless we could somehow identify Blister's undercover operatives, or at least learn what she knows about us and our movements. Without that information, it's only a matter of time before we're discovered."
And that was when Qibli got an idea. A probably horrendous idea. But still, it was a wonderfully horrendous idea! "Wait a minute. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone!"
Kinkajou made a face. "Gross."
"What do you mean?" asked Thorn, brows lowered as if she knew she wasn't going to like this.
Qibli smiled, embarrassed. "We're… um, breaking into the royal treasury…?"
"Not exactly what I was expecting, but go on."
"Wait!" Turtle scoffed. "You don't find that in the least bit shocking?!"
"When you've been around Qibli long enough, you learn that it's far more shocking when he suggests the normal plans. It means he's feeling unwell."
Qibli gaped. "I don't think I'm that bad."
"And I'd like to think I'm Queen of the SkyWings but unfortunately not all dreams come true."
Kinkajou went to laugh, but Qibli quickly shushed her. The plan was forming in his mind, and he had to spill it out as it unravelled, his excitement growing with each word. "Anyway! We came here to help you relocate to safety. We also want to break into the royal treasury. We sneak in, do what we got to do and try to see what information we can find about Blister and her plans. And when we come out, we make a big distraction. Blister likes to think she's thought of everything, she wants to be in total control. The idea of someone breaking into her treasury will get right under her scales. She'll be so distracted tightening security that neither she nor her soldiers will have their attention on you. You and the Outclaws can relocate without any problem. Everybody wins."
Turtle had turned a shade paler, and despite standing directly beneath the mid-morning sun, he shivered. "Aside from the part where we likely get caught and die miserable deaths."
"Only if we fail," Kinkajou cheered, "otherwise everybody wins!"
By noon, Tsunami could practically feel the proximity of the shielding spell that surrounded Jade Mountain. That electrifying feeling that would wash over her scales and give her spirit the comfort that she was safe, she was finally home. Jade Mountain loomed, huge and shrouded in clouds at its three peaks. Tsunami put on a burst of speed, eager to have this trip finally over with. As she and Glory soared over the familiar surrounding forests and valleys, as they dived close to the lake to quickly wash the grime from their scales, Tsunami felt a spring in her wingbeats. Up on the mountainside, at a cave mouth, they could see Sunny's bright golden wings waving to them enthusiastically and made their way towards her. Starflight was beside her, smiling, though his blindness meant his head was turned in a vague direction.
"You're back!" Sunny squealed with delight and threw herself into Tsunami's arms the moment she landed.
"Oh!" the SeaWing wobbled for a moment, trying to find her footing. Then she tightened her embrace on her sister. "Missed you too."
"Um, Sunny?" said Starflight.
"Oops! Sorry!" Sunny bounced out of Tsunami's arms and hopped over to the NightWing, leading him towards the pair of them. He reached out his wings to feel for them, and Tsunami and Glory touched the tips of theirs to his. Assured, he beamed and brought them both into a hug.
"How did it go?" he asked when he finally pulled back.
"As expected," said Glory, choosing to lead the way back into the Mountain. Likely to get something to eat - or to check in on the reports she'd missed when away. Sunny followed and Tsunami led Starflight at the back. "We stopped the fighting for now. But we'll need to come up with something to placate them soon."
Starflight hummed thoughtfully. "If we can get a decisive victory, that might be a morale boost for our allies. It'll remind them why they fight with us."
Sunny nodded. "Blister's thinking of pushing East - likely to lay siege to us. Qibli's gone to help my mother and see what trouble they can cause on Blister's home turf."
"That'll be great," Tsunami grinned. "If we can contact Thorn and have her hit the army from the rear, we can attack from the front. SandWings are strong but they lack discipline when under pressure." And with the help of a little magic, Tsunami thought, maybe to further disorientate the SandWings or have their soldiers a little more protected, then victory would be almost guaranteed. Nudging Sunny, she gently handed Starflight over to her before dashing further up the tunnel. "I need to find Turtle. You know, to let him know I'm back."
"Oh," said Sunny. "He went with Qibli."
"He did WHAT?!" Tsunami yelped, spinning to stare at Sunny. Her heart stopped beating before suddenly doubling its usual pace. "When did he leave? WHY would he leave?!"
"Qibli, Turtle and Kinkajou all left around sunset yesterday," said Starflight, sounding confused by her outburst. "Qibli said it'd be good for him, seeing as he hasn't been out in the field yet."
Tsunami wanted to pull out her horns in frustration. "There's a reason for that!"
"He'll be fine, Tsunami, trust him."
Knowing what she knew, yet unable to express the depths of her sudden anxiety due to her own secrecy, it made all these frustrations build up inside her with no way to be released. Unable to express herself, Tsunami just let out a wordless growl, spun on her heel and stormed off into the mountain. Her hunger was forgotten, her joy squandered. She made a direct path for her sleeping cave and didn't stop until she finally reached it and flopped onto her bed of straw and pillows. Burying her face, Tsunami bit her cheek to stop herself from roaring. A fleeting thought entered her mind, that she could go out into the desert and retrieve her wayward brother. Turtle wasn't a fighter, he wasn't even very stealthy, so what was he doing out in one of the most dangerous places in Pyrrhia? Qibli and Kinkajou could take care of themselves. But Turtle had never been on the front lines - did he even know how to fight?
"This is why I say you're a terrible actor," she heard Glory's voice from the doorway. Lifting her head glumly, Tsunami saw that Glory had come alone as the beautiful RainWing Queen prowled into her cave, sliding a claw along a spear in the weapon rack across the room. "You cannot keep anything to yourself."
That was a fair comment, Tsunami reasoned. She hadn't exactly kept a calm composure back there. "Do they know?"
"No. Not yet."
"How did you find out?"
"Like I said," Glory gave a smirk as she turned to meet Tsunami's eye, "you're a terrible actor. You just so happen to find objects or herbal remedies to our problems that work in the most miraculous ways? We all know your family has the animus gene, but we know you aren't an animus because you would never be able to keep it to yourself. And you've had plenty of opportunity to showcase your powers but nothing happened. So that means it more than likely was your brother. Your recent hovering and fussing over him only confirmed my suspicions."
"I'm sorry." Tsunami's head dropped back to the bed. A sense of shame swept through her, secrets had almost torn their group apart once before. "I didn't mean to keep it a secret. It's just… Turtle trusted me with it and it didn't seem right to tell others without his consent."
Glory nodded. "It was probably for the best. And you've used his power rather sparingly, which I was surprised by."
"You have no idea how hard it's been to come up with those spells," Tsunami groaned, sitting up. She rubbed her snout, her muscles tired. "Turtle doesn't want to hurt anyone. And he doesn't want to be the centre of attention. He just wants to help."
Her poor brother, frightened of everything, even himself. Tsunami could tell that inside him was this brave dragon who wanted to help in any way he could. But he was so afraid of failure, like a dragonet that had been burned due to their own recklessness and was now scared stiff of a flame. It made her wonder what had happened to Turtle to make him so afraid? Perhaps it was a good thing he wasn't here, having others learn his secret due to their failure to hide it well enough would have sent him almost into a panic attack.
"So what happens now?" she asked.
"Well, our animus has gone to the Kingdom of Sand and all we can do is wait for him to come back." Glory gripped the spear and pulled it from the rack, she felt its weight, tested its balance. In her eyes was a grim determination. "After that… I guess we need to take it one step at a time."