The Brightest Night (9 page)

Sunny’s scales felt as if they were fizzing and humming and trying to leap right off her. She flung herself into Thorn’s wings, which folded around her like sunbeams.

“Hey!” Qibli barked, jumping up.

“It’s all right, sit down,” Thorn said. She rested her head on top of Sunny’s and pulled her in more tightly.

“I knew you didn’t really abandon me,” Sunny said, although she wasn’t sure how much she’d ever really known that.

“
I
knew I’d find you one day,” said Thorn. “I didn’t take over this city for nothing. Never thought you’d just come strolling into my tent, though. Chasing a trio of NightWings, no less.” She leaned back and smiled. “Funny brave little dragon.”

It was warm, warm, warm, here in her mother’s wings, as warm as Sunny had always wanted to be.

“Hang on,” Qibli interjected. “Thorn, begging your pardon, but how do you know? She could be anybody. She could be playing you. She could be a con artist!”

“I’ve met enough con artists in the last six years,” Thorn said calmly, “swaggering in here, hoping to cheat me out of the reward. This is my daughter.”

“Where’s my father?” Sunny asked. “It’s — it’s not Dune, is it?”

“Bright smashing suns, no,” Thorn said. “What a horrifying thought. No.” She shot a glance at Qibli. “He’s … not around anymore. We can talk about that later. But speaking of Dune, if you can point me at him, he’s on this Needs To Be Violently Dismembered list I have.”

“He’s already dead,” Sunny said. “But he wasn’t so bad, really. He died trying to protect us.”

“Successfully?” Thorn asked.

“Well … not very successfully,” Sunny admitted. “We kind of all got captured by the SkyWing queen. But we’re all right now.”

Thorn growled. “Teeth of the viper, I cannot believe my enemies have all died before I could rip their heads off myself. Qibli, give me those drawings.”

The dragonet unpinned the drawings of Morrowseer and Dune from the wall, and Thorn kept one wing around Sunny as she tore them into tiny shreds.

“Feel better?” Sunny asked.

“Yes,” Thorn said, hugging her close again. “Would you like me to have those NightWings killed for you?”

“No, no,” Sunny said quickly. “One of them is the sister of a friend of mine.” She hesitated. “I kind of wish you hadn’t killed the other one.”

“I know,” Thorn said. She lifted her talons, checking them for blood. “It’s not my favorite part of the role, but if you want to lead dragons, you have to show them your claws sometimes, beetle.”

“Beetle?” Sunny echoed.

Thorn gave her an affectionate grin. “That was my pet name for you when you were still in your egg,” she said. “That’s what I’ve been calling you in my head all these years. But I like Sunny. Dune must have been paying attention when I talked about possible names for you.” Her face darkened.

“So you were friends,” Sunny prompted.

“I thought so.” Her mother looked up at the tent ceiling for a moment, her eyes glittering.

“I have so many questions,” Sunny said softly.
How did you know I would look weird? Why did you have to hide my egg for safety? What do the NightWings have to do with anything?

“So do I!” said Thorn. “I want to know everything about everything you’ve done for the last six years. And we should celebrate! Let me send all my brigands about their duties, and I’ll tell Armadillo to plan a party. Free roasted lizards and camel milk for the whole Scorpion Den tonight!” She grinned.

“Wait,” Sunny said. “I don’t need a party —”

“Perhaps not, but it’ll accomplish three things,” Thorn said briskly. “First, it’ll relieve the tension out there — all those dragons wondering what’ll happen with a prophecy dragonet in our midst. Second, it’ll let everyone know you’re my daughter, so they’ll treat you with respect and not just curiosity. And third, it’ll make it very clear that you’re under Outclaw protection, which you’re going to need in this city.”

“Oh,” Sunny said. For a moment she’d worried that her mother was like Blaze, just looking for any excuse for a party. It was reassuring to realize she had smart reasons for what she was doing.

A commotion erupted in the main tent: dragons yelling, something being knocked over. Thorn whirled around with her tail high, alert for any danger.

But when a SandWing burst through the flaps and threw himself at her feet, she relaxed and waved Qibli back.

“What is it?” Thorn asked.

“Reports of a dragonbite viper,” he gasped, “seen near the orphanage.”

“Are we sure?” Thorn demanded, grabbing a long spear made of three strands of metal twisted together and split into several sharp points at the end. “Have any Outclaws confirmed that it’s really there?”

“No,” he said, panting, “but someone panicked and set the nearest stalls on fire. The orphanage will go up in flames if we don’t put it out fast.”

“And so will the rest of the city,” Thorn said. “Sunny, I’m sorry, I have to take care of this.”

“Of course,” Sunny said, jumping up. “Can I help? What can I do?”

“You can stay here safely so I don’t have to worry about you,” Thorn said. “Please. Dragonbite vipers are not to be trifled with. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She snatched up a bag by the outer flap and ducked out of the tent, gone before the messenger could scramble to his feet and follow her.

Sunny and Qibli stared at each other for a few long moments. Sunny wondered if she should be upset that her mother had brushed aside her offer of help, but honestly, she wasn’t sure she’d have been much use. As the excitement of meeting her mother wore off, her wings began to feel like heavy boulders leaning against her sides. Her head was woozy from the strange smells and noises of the Scorpion Den.

“What’s a dragonbite viper?” Sunny finally asked.

“Really?” Qibli said. “It’s the most dangerous thing in the desert. Probably in all of Pyrrhia, but we get them more than most tribes. It’s the only snake in the world that can kill a dragon.”

“There’s a snake that can do that?” Sunny said. She shuddered from her horns to her wingtips. “Creepy.”

He nodded, and she tilted her head at him.

“Is Thorn your mother, too?” she asked.

“Ha!” he said, startled. He touched his snout self-consciously, where a few brown speckles stood out against his light yellow scales, much like the ones all over Thorn. “Moons, no. She
saved
me from my mother. Besides, the way I understand it, there’s only ever been one egg for Thorn, and that’s you — if you are who you say you are.”

“Nobody else?” Sunny asked. “I don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

He shook his head. “You’re better off. Mine are a pair of dung-snorting hippo-heads who’d rather stab me with their tails than share so much as a fig with me. Joke’s on them, now that I’m an Outclaw.” Qibli puffed his spines up and made a ferocious face. “And you better not be messing with Thorn either. There’s plenty of Outclaws lined up behind me who’ll make you sorry if you are.”

“I wouldn’t know how to mess with her,” Sunny said. “I promise, I’m really very nice.”

“Hmm,” Qibli said skeptically.

There was a tan camel-hair pillow next to one of the black tables that looked softer than anything Sunny had slept on in the last several days — and she hadn’t slept much, waking up frequently to make sure the NightWings hadn’t flown onward without her. She curled up on the cool sand and rested her head and front talons on the pillow. Qibli kept his dark eyes on her, his brow furrowed as if he hadn’t quite decided whether to trust her yet.

“So, what do the Outclaws do?” Sunny asked.

He fluffed his wings, scattering sand in all directions. “Everything. We keep the Scorpion Den from becoming a mess of blood and teeth, which it used to be, with everyone fighting all the time, till we sorted ’em all out. And we make sure those what has too much are convinced to pass some along to them with nothing.”

“And what do you do with the pool?” Sunny was genuinely curious, but for some reason, Qibli’s answers seemed to be fading in and out.

“We’re the boss of it,” he explained proudly. “That way we can get water to all the little dragons and the sick dragons and the wounded from the war. When they’re not too scared to come around and ask for it anyways. We can be very intimidating,” he added with a satisfied nod.

“Mm-hmm,” Sunny said, her eyelids drooping.

“Are you falling asleep in the middle of my fascinating explanation?” Qibli demanded, sounding outraged.

“No,” Sunny mumbled, inaccurately, and if he said anything else, she didn’t hear it.

*  *  *

She woke up in darkness to the sounds of dragons roaring and carousing outside the tent. A small oil lamp, gleaming bronze, was set beside her, and Six-Claws sat beside it, chewing on something that had been skewered on a stick and burned to a crisp.

He dipped his head to her as she sat up and yawned. “Your mother said not to wake you.”

The shiver
that
sent down Sunny’s spine was both lovely and unsettling.
My mother.

“You could have. I always feel like I’m missing something when I’m sleeping,” Sunny said, stretching. “Where is she?”

“Still trying to put out all the fires and restore order.” He flipped one wing at the noises beyond the white, billowing walls. There was something solid about his presence, as though of course he would be there, waiting patiently, whenever she woke up and needed him. Sunny could imagine that her mother would be able to rely on him.

She wondered again if there was any chance he might be her father. Thorn had said “not around,” but maybe that just meant “not attached” anymore. Or maybe there was a reason she was keeping it a secret from the other Outclaws.

Most significantly, knowing he had hatched with his unusual sixth claws might be enough to make Thorn think Sunny would have something odd about her, too.

“What happened with the viper?” Sunny asked. “Is everyone all right?”

Six-Claws stopped chewing and looked at her. “We didn’t find the viper yet, but we’ve contained the fire, for the most part. And nobody was bitten, so far. So we’re either very lucky or quite unlucky, if there’s really a viper out there.” He considered her for a moment, then added, “Thanks for asking.”

“Oh,” Sunny said, flustered. She’d been worried; of course she’d asked. “Of course.”

Six-Claws tossed away his stick and rubbed sand over his talons. “Ready to be presented to the Outclaws?” he asked her.

“Not even remotely,” Sunny confessed. He chuckled in a rumbling way and lifted the flap so she could step through the tent and out onto the shifting sands, pale in the light of the three moons overhead.

The bright orange-and-yellow flames of torches flickered all around the oasis, reflecting in a dance across the pool. There were too many dragons for Sunny to count, especially in the wavering shadows, and most of them were moving — chasing one another across the sand, calling out insults or threats or jokes, laughing and tossing drinks at each other. As she blinked around, looking for Thorn, one of the SandWings toppled into the pool with a splash and three others jumped to haul her out.

“Idiots,” Six-Claws said with affection, and started forward.

“That’s far enough,” said a voice in the darkness behind the tent. “Six-Claws. Stop where you are.”

Six-Claws swung around with a hiss. “I take orders from Thorn and no one else.”

“Oh, it’s not an order,” said the other dragon. He stepped forward so the torchlight could catch on his yellow scales, and Sunny recognized the SandWing they’d run into on the streets earlier — Addax, the one with the scratch who’d looked familiar. “It’s a suggestion I think you’ll really want to listen to.”

Six-Claws took a menacing step toward him and Addax flicked his tail. Two more beefy dragons appeared behind him. They had a small dragonet pinned between them, perhaps two years old, with nearly white scales and a tail barb that still wasn’t fully developed. She squeaked nervously as they dragged her forward.

“The question really,” said Addax, “is which daughter do you care about more — the alleged long-lost egg that Thorn has been searching for … or yours?”

Sunny glanced up at Six-Claws and saw the fury and fear contorting his face. He sank his talons into the sand, raising his tail. Beyond him, in the shadows, she saw four more SandWings slide out from behind the tent to stand menacingly between them and the pool.

“Ostrich,” Six-Claws growled, his eyes fixed on his daughter. “Don’t be scared. I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Don’t make a mistake here,” Addax warned him. “My friends’ tails are much closer to your dragonet than you are to me. If you attack, or even shout for help, she’ll be dead in an instant. But this doesn’t have to get all violent, Six-Claws. We want the dragonet of destiny. It’s a simple, fair trade.”

“There was no dragonbite viper, was there?” Six-Claws said. “You set that fire to draw Thorn away. Do you know how many dragonets you could have killed?”

“Yes,” said Addax. “Don’t make it one more.”

Six-Claws growled again, and Sunny saw his eyes dart from her to his daughter.
He loves her so much,
she thought.
That’s what I always wanted. That’s what I might have, now, with Thorn. Family, and answers, and a place to belong.