The Dragonet Prophecy (17 page)

“What was weird?”

“The SandWing — Horizon — the way he just gave up.” She opened and closed her wings, and Clay flinched. “Why would he do that?” Peril went on. “It’s poor form. I guess I should have pushed him away to make him keep fighting. Her Majesty was pretty angry.”

“At you?” Clay said. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

Peril blinked again. “Really?” she said. “It doesn’t?” She shook her head. “No, the queen is right. It’s my responsibility to make the fight exciting if the other dragon won’t do it.”

“Why do you do what she says?” Clay asked. “Do you — like fighting?” What he really wanted to ask was “Do you like killing?” but he was afraid of what the answer might be. Would
he
like killing, if he’d been given the chance to do it over and over again with no consequences? Was that the kind of dragon he was supposed to be? Would he like it if he had to do it tomorrow, in the arena?

“Of course,” Peril said. “I’m good at fighting — and not much else. And she’s my queen. I’m her champion.”

“Why you?” Clay asked, risking getting closer to his real question:
What’s wrong with you?

“No one else wants me,” Peril said matter-of-factly. “No one can even touch me. You saw that. I was born with too much fire. Usually when dragons like me hatch, the SkyWings drop them off the highest mountain peak. That’s what my mother was going to do, but Queen Scarlet saved me and killed her to punish her.” Her eyes went cold at the words
my mother
.

“Wow,” Clay said faintly.

“Yeah,” said Peril. “If you want to know everything, I burned up my twin in our egg. I sucked all the fire out of him and scorched him to a crisp.” She shrugged, but there was a wobbliness to her voice.

“I attacked the other eggs in my nest when I hatched,” Clay said. It felt really strange to say out loud. “At least, that’s what the big dragons told me. They said I tried to kill my nestmates. I don’t remember it.”

Peril tilted her head. “So maybe we were both born to kill other dragons,” she said. Clay wished she didn’t sound so happy about it.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe she’s the monster I could be, if I let myself.

“I don’t really want to do that,” he admitted. “I like fighting, but the only thing I’ve ever killed is prey.”

“Her Majesty said I might as well follow my true nature,” Peril said. “That’s how she raised me — letting me be myself, giving me dragons to kill. Maybe you’d feel better if you could be who you really are.”

“I hope that’s not who I am,” Clay said. In the moonlight, Peril’s expression changed, and he realized he’d hurt her feelings. “Not — not that —” he stammered.
Nice work, Clay. How are you going to finish that sentence? “Not that there’s anything wrong with being a killer”? Or maybe, “But it seems to be going great for you”?
“I mean — maybe I was born that way, but does that mean I’m like that forever? I guess I hope I have a choice, is all. I want to be who I
want
to be, not who I
have
to be. Right? Do you ever — I mean, wouldn’t you want to be different, if you could be anyone?”

“No,” Peril said, clawing at the rock under her talons. “I’ve accepted myself, and I like myself this way. You should do the same thing.” Something clattered far below them, and Peril jumped. “I’d better go,” she said.

“Wait,” Clay said. “Please. Who’s supposed to fight tomorrow? Can you talk to the queen? Tell her not to send in the NightWing. He’s not ready for the arena.”

“Are you serious?” Peril said. “She’d be furious. She’s so excited to see him fight.”

“Tell her I volunteer instead,” Clay blurted. “Tell her I’m ready, and I promise I’ll make it exciting.”

Peril was already shaking her head. “I can’t. I’m forbidden to talk to you. She was really mad when she found out I visited you before. I guess you’re not like the other prisoners.”

Clay paused, thinking. That was strange. Why did Queen Scarlet care if Peril talked to him? “But you came to see me anyway?”

She shuffled her talons and looked a little embarrassed. “Yeah, I don’t know why. I mean, it didn’t seem fair. I like talking to you. Her Majesty never has time to talk to me, and my only other friend is old and tells the same stories over and over again. You’re blazing.”

So she doesn’t obey every order Queen Scarlet gives her. Good to know.

He realized she was looking at him hopefully. “Uh,” he said. “You’re … blazing, too?”

Peril grinned, sharp white teeth flashing in the moonlight. “That’s what Her Majesty says. She likes me the way I am and nobody else ever has. Until you.”

Yikes
, Clay thought. He wasn’t sure he
did
like her the way she was. Or that he wanted to be best friends with a dragon who was planning to kill him eventually.

But there was something not entirely awful about Peril — an awkwardness and sadness that he kind of understood. And maybe there was a chance he could talk her out of the whole killing plan. Maybe that was why Queen Scarlet didn’t want her talking to him.

In the meanwhile, though, he had to focus on saving Starflight.

“Listen,” he said, “could you talk to her about Starflight anyway? What if you acted like you came up with it yourself? A MudWing is still something new, right? So send me in first and save him for later. Besides, if he dies in his first fight, that would be a waste, wouldn’t it?” He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat at the idea of Starflight dying.

“You think he would?” Peril said, gazing out at the circle of prisoners. Even with the bright light of the moons, it was hard to see the dark lump of dragon on Starflight’s pedestal. “Can’t he use his powers? Reading minds and all that?”

Poor Starflight.
Clay wondered if a normal NightWing, raised around other NightWings, would already have his powers by now.

He didn’t want Peril and Queen Scarlet to know that Starflight was powerless, but he didn’t want them to risk Starflight’s life because they thought he could do something special.

“They’re a little unpredictable,” he hazarded. “He’s not full grown, you know. He’s still learning how to use them. Although, of course, they’re very scary when they work.” He hoped the SkyWings had no more information about NightWing powers than Starflight’s scrolls did.

“Oh,” Peril said. “That makes sense.” Her tail twitched over her talons as she thought. Clay tried to sidle a bit closer to the edge, away from her blistering heat. “All right,” she said finally. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” Clay said.

Peril spread her wings to fly away and then hesitated, looking at him. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

Clay tried to think what she meant.

“Kill yourself like that,” she said. “The way Horizon did.” She coughed, and a small ring of smoke puffed out of her snout.

Clay had no idea what he would do if he ever had to fight Peril. It sounded even more terrifying than swimming down the underground river. He met her eerie blue eyes and realized that she looked very worried.

“I don’t think so,” he said truthfully. He couldn’t imagine choosing to die that way. And he didn’t think he was brave enough to do it either.

“Oh, good,” she said. “I’d much rather kill you fair and square. Well, good night.” She leaped up into the air and beat her wings, sending a wave of heat over Clay’s scales.

He felt very unsettled as he watched her spiral down to the arena.

Peril was the first dragon he’d met outside the mountain, if you didn’t count Queen Scarlet. Maybe she wasn’t as strange as he thought. Maybe switching between friendly conversation and violence was normal for a dragon.

But somehow he didn’t think so.

Was she right about his true nature? If he’d been raised like her, killing dragons and feeding the monster inside him, maybe he’d be less worried all the time. Maybe he needed to accept that part of him, like she had. But would his friends still like him? Would he be more or less worthy of the prophecy that way?

One thing was for sure. Whenever he did end up in the arena, he’d find out how he felt about killing pretty fast.

The next morning, three blood-red SkyWing guards arrived to unchain Clay.

“What’s happening?” Clay asked nervously as they unclipped the wires around his legs. He’d gotten used to the feeling that something would catch him if he fell, even if it would probably hurt.

“Private audience with the queen,” sniffed one.

“Is that a good thing?” Clay asked. “Or a bad thing? I’ve never been a prisoner before. Unless, technically, maybe I sort of was, but not like this. This is a lot … windier. Plus there’s the queen, that’s new. Does she normally meet with prisoners? Maybe right before letting them go?”

“Shut up,” snapped the guard who had answered him before.

“Right, yes,” Clay said. “Only I was wondering about the other dragonets who were with me and if I could maybe see them —”

One of the guards tightened the wire around his neck and hissed, “Another word and there’s going to be an unfortunate
accident
on the way down to the throne room.”

Clay glanced over the edge and shut his mouth firmly. So far, it seemed to him that most SkyWings were just as grumpy as Kestrel.

With a start, he realized he’d forgotten to worry about Kestrel. The queen had talked to her as if they once knew each other. He craned his neck, looking for her among the prisoners, as the guards flew him down to the arena. But none of the red or orange SkyWings on the spires were quite the right color or size.

He noticed with a shiver of fear that Starflight’s perch was empty. He must have been taken away while Clay was sleeping — but why?

As they reached the sandy ground, Clay twisted to look up at Tsunami and saw three more SkyWings surrounding her. They were having a hard time getting close; she lashed and fought and swung her powerful tail at them in a fury.

Oops
, Clay thought.
Should I have done that?
He hadn’t struggled with the guards at all. He glanced around the arena, wondering if he should try to run now. But his wings were still clamped, and there was only one doorway out of the arena. Since the guards were already dragging him toward it, it seemed a little pointless to break free and then run exactly where they were going anyway.

So he let them lead him into the smoky tunnel, lit with flaming torches and an occasional skylight cut through the rock overhead. The tunnel was wide enough for three dragons to walk side by side, wings spread. It sloped upward through the mountain, into the palace Clay had seen from his prison perch.

At one point they passed a large cave with tall narrow windows cut into the walls, casting bars of sunlight on the stone floor. A pool of water separated the cave from the tunnel. On one wall hung a full-length portrait of Queen Scarlet, staring majestically down her nose. Clay spotted the glint of a few copper scales on the floor and wondered if it was Peril’s room. There was nothing else in the cave. It occurred to him that she probably couldn’t sleep on animal skins or read scrolls because her touch would burn right through them.

But if fighting was all she was good for, why hadn’t the queen sent Peril out into the war? Why was she kept here for gladiator fights instead?

Perhaps Queen Scarlet didn’t completely trust the hold she had on Peril. If she were let loose into the world, Peril might realize she didn’t have to be a killer … or she might decide to kill anyone she liked, without waiting for the queen’s permission.

Soon Clay heard clattering and clanking and chattering up ahead, as if a crowd of dragons were busily hurrying about. Then the passageway opened out into a vast hall and he saw that was exactly what he was hearing.

He was standing on a wide balcony with no railing, two levels up from the ground floor. The balcony ran all the way around the hall in a large square, and above it Clay could see five more levels of balconies, and above that, the open sky. Dragons were hurrying everywhere, glowing in the light. Large windows were cut into the walls all the way up, so the hall was flooded with sunshine. The floors blazed as if little rivers of fire ran through them.

When Clay looked more closely, he saw a design of talon prints, inlaid with gold, running through the stone under his talons. Gold veins were carved into the walls as well, some of them branching into flames or tracing shapes like clouds in the rock.

Clay remembered that the queen must be very wealthy. This showed how powerful she was as well. Even with all this gold at their claw tips, no dragon dared to dig it out and steal it.

The guards shoved him in the direction where the gold talon prints led. Clay followed the trail, gazing at the dragons bustling around the hall. SkyWings flew from level to level, hopping across the great space and dodging wings and tails as they went. Some of them exchanged small message scrolls in midair; others were carrying buckets of water or clean animal skins or platters of food. Everyone seemed either very busy or as if they were trying to
look
very busy.

Clay saw one young orange dragonet winging up to the highest level with a bucket of soapy water clutched in her talons. As she reached the top balcony, her tail tangled with another dragon’s and she overbalanced. She lunged for the ledge and dropped the bucket, which plummeted all the way down, whooshing past Clay and the guards.