Moon Rising (17 page)

“Flower and Smolder seemed to really like each other,” Sunny said.

“How am I supposed to do that?” Winter demanded. He flung the cover back on the cage. “This is useless,” he growled, and stormed back out of the library with it.

Sunny shrugged at Moon. “Don’t feel bad; he’s just worried about Bandit.
I
thought it was a good idea.” She moved back to her pile of scrolls.

Moon curled her tail and wings in. It was true, Winter was worried about Bandit, but he was also mad at her in a kind of general ongoing way with no particular reason behind it.

Kinkajou nudged her shoulder. “Ignore him. He clearly doesn’t like hearing good advice. Let’s read about IceWings instead and see if they’re all that full of themselves.” She started unrolling the scroll on one of the low wooden tables. “Glory once told me that IceWings and NightWings have always hated each other, and it goes back to some big tragedy in the IceWings’ past, but she didn’t know what it was. The scrolls she read were mostly written by NightWings or SeaWings and never talked about the details. I’m so curious, aren’t you?”

“Did you try asking Starflight?” Moon asked.

“Yes, but he didn’t know either,” Kinkajou said. “So I have to learn to read, so I can read all the scrolls ever written about IceWings and figure it out myself.”

They worked on the scroll for a while, with Kinkajou puzzling out the words and turning lavender with delight when she got them right. After a while, Moon paused, thinking, and said:

“Winter or Icicle might be able to tell you.”

“Ha ha, can you imagine them telling me anything?” Kinkajou said, turning herself a chilly blue. “We don’t share IceWing secrets with mere RainWings, haughty sniff.”

Moon giggled and Starflight looked up with a smile.

“I’m glad you two are getting along,” he said. “We spent a lot of time working out all the clawmates.”

“I’m still not sure about all of them,” Sunny chimed in, frowning anxiously.

“Like me?” Carnelian asked. She had been pacing along the shelves, pulling out scrolls, glancing at them, and shoving them back in. Now she came stomping over to the desk. “Maybe you could move me to a cave where there’s less
talking all the time.
”

“Don’t be silly,” Kinkajou said. “Moon hardly ever talks. She talks more in her
sleep
than she ever does when she’s awake.”

“I do?” Moon said, horrified.

“Three moons, yes,” said Carnelian. “And that’s exactly what I mean. It is
so
annoying. One of them talks all day and the other one yammers all night.”

Mother, why didn’t you ever tell me this? Why didn’t you warn me? Why didn’t you think that talking in my sleep might put me and my secrets in danger?

“What do I say?” Moon asked nervously.

“All KINDS of fascinating nonsense,” Kinkajou said. “Darkness and thunder and talons of doom and who knows what else. You must be reading something really exciting. Can I borrow it when you’re done?”

“Um,” Moon said, shifting on her talons. “You know, I think I might head to history a little early, if that’s all right.”

“Why?” Kinkajou asked.

“I just — want to look at the old maps.” Now that she said it, it sounded like a good idea. Maybe she’d find a clue about the old Night Kingdom somewhere on there.

Kinkajou wrinkled her nose and turned pale orange. “Spend
more
time in that dank hole? No, thank you. I’ll be there when I have to.”

I doubt the maps will be helpful,
Darkstalker pointed out as Moon headed through the Great Hall.

I know,
Moon thought.
NightWings were the ones making the maps for hundreds of years, and they made sure to erase any trace of either NightWing kingdom, old or new. Still … maybe there’s something.

At least you’re looking,
he said quietly.
Maybe you haven’t completely forsaken me yet?

I don’t —

Moon faltered as a flash of light suddenly blistered through her mind, then vanished.

She stopped, blinking and disoriented. She was halfway down the tunnel to the history cave.

Did you do that?
she asked.

No. Moon — watch out —

A slow pounding was working its way up her spine, along her neck, to the base of her skull….

A moment later, pain shot through her like a claw brutally stabbing into her eye socket.

She collapsed to the floor, clutching her head, and the vision came.

Roaring flames tearing along the walls of the history cave, swallowing the maps, leaping to the seated dragonets in the space of a breath. Fire blistering along Moon’s scales, her own voice screaming. Beside her, Kinkajou shrieking and burning, white amid the smoke. Qibli, Winter, Turtle, all on fire.

Everyone dying.

All of them, dying.

Moon,
Darkstalker shouted, perhaps more than once, dragging her back to herself.
Moon, it’s not real, you’re all right.

She staggered up and caught herself against the rough stone side of the tunnel.

What do you mean it’s not real?
she asked. Her heartbeat was too fast, squeezing her chest so she could hardly breathe.

I mean, it could have been, but it won’t be,
he said.
Whatever that was, it’s in the history cave. Stay away from there and —

The vision returned, fiercer and more agonizing than before.

Now Moon was outside the history cave, and fire was pouring out into the tunnel, along with the screaming, burning figures of her friends. Kinkajou stumbled to the ground in front of Moon, her wings turning crisp and black as flames ate them away. Carnelian’s voice howled in pain from inside. Tamarin and Umber lay half in, half out of the cave, gasping as dark smoke filled their lungs.

Moon! Moon!
Darkstalker pulled her out again.
Close your eyes. I can take your mind to a safe place where you won’t see any of this.

“No!” Moon shouted. “Don’t do that!” She pushed herself up and started running toward the history cave.

What are you doing?
Darkstalker asked.

I have to stop it.

There isn’t time. Can’t you tell? The explosion is only a few minutes away.

Then I have to warn them. Someone might be in there already.

A half-second pause, then:
Is that wise? Don’t you want to keep your power a secret?

“Not if it means my friends will all die!” Moon cried.

The vision slammed into her again, stamping her to the ground like a giant talon. More fire. Another burning dragon, maybe Pike or Bigtail. Umber lying in a charred heap on the ground, Sora sobbing beside him. Qibli with his wings in flames, screaming for help.

“What is wrong with you?” a cool, arrogant voice asked from above her.
Is she all right?
his brain worried, more sympathetically.

“Winter.” Moon shook her head, trying to clear it. The IceWing was really there, standing in front of her, really not on fire, not dead. His scales were smooth, pale blue, unburnt. His eyes were arctic pools.

“Some kind of NightWing seizure?” he asked, looking down his snout at her. His tail flicked and he took a step back, toward the history cave. She could see the archway only a few paces ahead of them, quiet and flame-free.

“You can’t go in there.” Moon lunged forward and grabbed his forearm in her talons.

We’re touching — she’s — I’m — her scales against mine — I can’t want this —
his mind whirled.

“What are you doing?” he barked, but didn’t pull away.

“Please don’t go in there,” she managed. The vision was storming back. “Something terrible is going to —”

Qibli burning. Tamarin burning. Winter safe, Icicle safe, Kinkajou burning —

Winter was holding her up; she’d fallen against him and he was trying to lift her back upright, his wings supporting hers. “What something terrible?” he said, his voice rising. He shook her. “How do you know?”

“Hey, leave her alone,” Qibli’s voice interjected.

“Stop!” Moon cried, pulling away from Winter and throwing herself in front of Qibli and Turtle. “Don’t go in! No one can go in!”

“Whoa, calm down,” Turtle said gently. “You’re having some kind of panic attack.”

“No, please listen.” Moon couldn’t catch her breath, not with the visions coming faster and the intensity of the thoughts around her. Tamarin dead, Kinkajou sobbing, Carnelian burning.
She’s losing her mind.
“Please, please, don’t let anyone go in there.”

Deep breaths,
Darkstalker said softly.
You’ll be all right.

“I’m listening,” Qibli said, crouching to look into her eyes. “We’re here, don’t worry.”
Must be something serious. Look at her eyes, she’s terrified. Did Winter do this to her? No, he doesn’t know what’s going on either. What can I do for her? Find the threat, neutralize it.

She grabbed Turtle’s talons and tried to wrap his muffled mind around hers. “Kinkajou. I have to stop Kinkajou.” The image of the RainWing burning kept coming back, over and over, like a knife plunging repeatedly into her heart.

“She’s right behind us,” Qibli said. He put one wing around her. “Moon, what is happening?”

“Yes,” Winter said. “What do you know?”

Moon could feel the footsteps of other dragons through the floor. Dragons were coming for class. How could she stop them? How could she stop all of them?

She let out a cry of pain and closed her eyes. Another vision, and this time Peril was there, engulfed in flames, clutching someone in her talons. Was she the cause of the fire? If Moon could stop Peril, could she save everyone?

She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus long enough to come up with a convincing lie or a plan or anything.

“Moon, it’s all right! Moon, breathe, here, lean on me.” Warm rainbow wings wrapped around her. “We have to take her to Clay and Sunny, they’ll know what to do.”

Good idea,
Qibli thought.
I should have thought of that.

“Kinkajou,” Moon sighed, leaning into her friend. The walls were fading in and out, the torchlight flaring and then disappearing and flickering back. She took a few stumbling steps as Kinkajou tried to guide her up the tunnel.

“I don’t know,” Winter was saying to someone. “She just collapsed.”

“Hey, Carnelian,” Qibli called. “Don’t go in there.”

“Why not?” the SkyWing’s voice demanded.

“Uh,” he said. “One of the torches got all smoky, the whole cave smells. Needs to air out.”

“Smells fine to me,” Carnelian growled.

“Come on, Moon,” Kinkajou said, tugging her along. “We’ll go find help.”

“But the cave —” Moon said. She shook her head, trying to clear it. Kinkajou’s worried thoughts were scattered all through hers, loud and sweet and muddling. Kinkajou wanted so badly to take Moon away from there that Moon couldn’t find her way back to what
she
needed to do. “I have to —”

“Don’t worry,” Kinkajou said. “We can miss class today. Tamarin will get us any notes we need.”

“Is she in there?” Moon froze. Qibli and Turtle were still beside her; Winter was a step away, watching her intently. “Did she go in the history cave?”

“Sure, but —”

“No, she can’t —” Moon turned, in time to see Carnelian at the cave entrance, tossing her head.

“You’re an idiot, SandWing,” Carnelian said. “It’s perfectly fine in there.” She stepped into the classroom.

“No!” Moon cried. Farther along the tunnel, Icicle was coming from the other direction. The IceWing stopped and arched her brows as Moon dove for the doorway where Carnelian had disappeared.

With a
whoosh
and a
boom
, the cave exploded in a huge fireball.

Moon was blown backward, slamming into the cave wall behind her. She wasn’t sure if she lost consciousness for a moment or if her eyes were full of smoke. She couldn’t hear anything. She could see Kinkajou screaming at the edge of the flames, but there was no sound.

Everything was coming through loud and clear inside her head, though. Most of it was panicked, wordless images and fear, cascading faster and faster until Moon felt as if she couldn’t
be
any more afraid or it would kill her.

Listen to me,
Darkstalker said commandingly.
I’m the calmest voice you can hear. Use me as your anchor. I’ll keep talking until you calm down. Think about your heart beating. Remember that you are safe. Look around you.

Moon blinked at the billowing black smoke that was pouring out of the history cave. A burning scroll rolled out, stopping just before her talons. Shards of glass from the broken light globes were scattered all over the floor. Winter and Qibli were running toward her. Turtle was pressed to the tunnel wall beyond them; behind him, two dragons were approaching. Only a few seconds had passed.

Kinkajou is safe,
Darkstalker reminded her.
Qibli is safe. The IceWing and the SeaWing, regrettably, are safe.

Why regrettably?
Moon asked.

Ah, you are listening. Keep listening. Focus on me; don’t let anyone else in, just for now.

“Moon!” Winter skidded to a stop in front of her, reaching for her shoulders and then pulling back as she flinched away. “What was that?”

“We have to get her out of here,” Qibli said, sliding his wing under one of Moon’s and helping her up. “The smoke —” He broke off in a fit of coughing.

“But Tamarin — Carnelian —” Moon gasped.

“What do we do?” Kinkajou yelled. “What do we do?”

Qibli and Moon staggered a few steps forward and the two approaching dragons came into focus: Sora and Umber. Sora’s eyes were wild and terrified, and her mind was a mess of mud and battle flashbacks.

Focus on my voice,
Darkstalker reminded Moon.
Don’t let yourself fall in.
She steadied herself against his constant murmuring.

“I’m going to get help!” Umber shouted. He tore off up the tunnel.

“Is anyone hurt?” Sora squeaked. “Where’s Icicle?”

“She’s all right, she wasn’t inside,” Moon said. She twisted around, but she couldn’t see Sora’s clawmate anymore. Even through the thick smoke, Icicle’s gleaming white scales should have been visible, but there was no sign of the IceWing where Moon had seen her before the blast.

“At least two dragons were in there,” Winter said. Moon felt sick. Tamarin. Carnelian.

“Stand clear,” a voice shouted, footsteps thumping toward them. Moon flinched back against Qibli as the ferocious heat of Peril’s mind swept through her head, a moment before Peril herself came charging through the smoke. She didn’t stop to look at them; she ran straight into the burning cave.

“Three moons,” Kinkajou whispered frantically, clutching her talons together.

A minute later, Peril’s smoking wings appeared, and she backed out of the cave, dragging someone behind her. She pulled the burned dragonet level with Moon and the others, then laid her on the stone floor and ran back into the cave.

Kinkajou gasped and buried her face in her talons.

“Oh, no,” Moon said softly. She let go of Qibli and crouched beside the body. She could see patches of unburnt red scales, but so much of Carnelian was burned that she looked more like a NightWing than a SkyWing.

“Maybe I can —” Winter hesitated, then crouched and breathed a small amount of frostbreath on Carnelian’s neck. The scales stopped smoking, but stayed black. He shook his head in frustration.
That could make it worse. I don’t know,
he worried. Moon couldn’t tell if Carnelian was even still breathing or not.

Moon’s heart jumped as she heard more dragons running toward them; she could hear that one of them was a desperately worried Clay. He stopped briefly beside Carnelian, grief flooding through him, and looked across at Sora.

“How many are still in there?” he asked.

Sora opened and closed her mouth, unable to speak.

“We don’t know for sure,” Kinkajou jumped in. “At least Tamarin. Peril went back in, too.”

Clay didn’t ask any more questions. He ran into the fire, limping on his scarred leg, flames licking hungrily across his fireproof scales. Moon could hear how much it hurt him — his power meant he healed quickly, but the fire still burned him, even just for a moment — but he didn’t hesitate.

Sora let out a choked sob and fled.

“What’s happening?” Onyx demanded from behind Moon. She and Pike stared in bewilderment at the roaring flames.

“Tamarin —” Kinkajou whispered.

Onyx narrowed her dark eyes at the fire. Pike flared his wings, his mind flooding with images of the attack on the Summer Palace. Moon could see burning logs falling from the sky, crashing into a pavilion — the palace Albatross had built. She could see SeaWings desperately trying to escape through a narrow tunnel. She saw small explosions going off as some of the flaming projectiles smashed into panicking dragons.

“We shouldn’t be breathing this,” Qibli said, trying to steer Moon away from the fire. “This smoke is as bad as the fire, if we breathe too much.”

“I’m not leaving until I know Tamarin’s all right,” Kinkajou said.

Moon shook her head in agreement and Qibli gave up.

A movement in the smoke, and then Clay emerged, carrying a dragonet slung across his back. Behind him was Peril with another dragonet.

Moon tried to breathe, tried to focus on Darkstalker’s voice, still whispering calming things in the background. But who was the third dragonet?

“Is it all clear?” Winter asked Clay.

Clay nodded tiredly. “We swept the entire space. No one else in there.”

Winter ran toward the cave, opened his mouth, and poured out a blast of icy air. He advanced on the fire, putting it out with his frostbreath as he stepped through the smoke, into the cave.

I hope he’s safe,
Moon thought, and then all her thoughts were crowded out by the sight of the dragonet Clay was sliding gently to the ground.

“Tamarin!” Kinkajou cried.

The blind RainWing was not as badly burned as Carnelian. She was unconscious — but she was still breathing. Kinkajou bent over her, white and green patches pummeling each other across her scales, and carefully lifted one of her friend’s talons.

“I think she might have smelled something, maybe smoke, right before the explosion happened,” Clay said. “She was behind one of the scroll racks, as though she’d tipped it over in front of her. It might have saved her life.”
If she lives,
he thought despairingly.

“Tamarin, you’re all right,” Kinkajou said, biting back a sob. “You’d better be all right or I will tie you to a tree and cover you with hallucinogenic frogs. Tamarin, please wake up.”

“We should get her some of those RainWing tranquilizing darts before she does wake up,” Clay said, touching Kinkajou’s wing with his own. “Those burns are going to hurt a lot.” He crouched to study the third dragonet, lying on the ground in front of Peril.

For a moment, Moon thought whoever it was must have been burned beyond recognition, and then she realized his scales were black. It was Bigtail, the other NightWing. He was clearly dead.

Clay turned to Carnelian for a moment, touching her neck, and then shook his head. Carnelian was dead, too.

Tamarin was the only survivor, if she survived her burns.

“The underground lake,” Pike said suddenly. “Let’s put her in the lake. It’s not far. Submerging her in water will help. I’ve seen — I saw this work — after the attack.” He cut himself off, darted forward, and tried to lift Tamarin, but he was thin, and she was a little bigger than he was. He staggered, and Clay stopped him.

“I’ll carry her. Show me the way.”

“I’ll come, too,” Onyx said, studying her clawmate with apparent concern.

“Go to Sunny,” Clay said to Peril. “Tell her to bring tranq darts and meet us at the lake.” Peril nodded, glanced back at the smoking cave, and hurried away.

Qibli helped lift Tamarin onto Clay’s back. Pike scurried away, running full tilt, with Clay and Onyx right behind him.

Kinkajou took a step after them, then wavered, looking back at Moon and Carnelian. By the time her mind said,
Go with Tamarin, Moon will be fine,
they were gone, and she didn’t know where the lake was.

“Moon, you’re bleeding,” Qibli said. Moon finally noticed the trail of blood down her left shoulder and the sharp pain at the back of her head.

“I’m all right,” she said, touching her skull gingerly. She could hear a lot more dragons coming their way — Tsunami and Sunny among them.

You have a lot of explaining to do,
Darkstalker said quietly.
Start thinking of a good lie now.

“Let’s get you to the infirmary,” Kinkajou said.

“Wait,” Winter said, emerging from the cave. Behind him, the fire was hissing out. The wrecked cave was covered in ice crystals, a gleaming layer of silver over black, frost over soot. Scraps of burnt scrolls littered the ground, and the ashes of the maps on the walls were still drifting down.

At least it wasn’t the library,
Moon thought. How had everything burned so fast? Even with the scrolls and maps, there shouldn’t have been such a big fire, surely. And how did it start?

It wasn’t a normal fire. She knew that. Something had
exploded.
But did that mean … that someone had set it on purpose?

Winter suddenly clamped his claws around her uninjured forearm. Moon let out a yelp as the freezing shock of his scales met hers.

“Hey!” Kinkajou protested.

“Don’t —” Qibli started.

But Winter didn’t stop. He dragged Moon down the tunnel, away from the smoke. She could hear Qibli and Kinkajou and another pair of claws scrambling to follow them.

“What are you doing?” Moon asked him. His grip was like being trapped in ice; trying to pull away did no good. And where most dragons’ minds became clearer when she touched them, his became too bright and painfully dazzling, reflecting back at her like sun off a field of snow. All she could get were flashes of sharp anger, which she really could have figured out on her own from his expression.

“Here,” Winter said, pushing her into a tall, narrow cave where the air was clear enough to breathe. They were out of sight of the fire damage, but close enough that Moon could still sense the dragons gathering there. Her claws scraped against squat stalagmites jutting from the floor. The sound of water dripping somewhere slowly, drop by drop, echoed against the looming walls and distant ceiling.

Qibli, Kinkajou, and Turtle burst into the cavern behind them, bristling with outraged thoughts. Qibli had grabbed a torch along the way and shoved it into a crack in the wall, adding another circle of firelight to the space.

“You can’t just push your friends around like that,” Kinkajou said, hurrying over to Moon. “Especially when she’s hurt. Moon, there’s something in this wound.” She reached out but didn’t touch it. Moon twisted her neck and saw that there was something sticking out of the cut in her shoulder, like a collection of tiny, sharp splinters.

Qibli lifted his venomous tail and glared at Winter. But before he could say anything, Winter took a menacing step toward Moon and pointed one silver claw at her.

“You
knew
,” he snarled. “That’s why you tried to stop us from going in. You knew about the explosion and the fire before it happened.” He took another step, until all she could see was the bright orange reflection of the torchlight in his eyes.

“So,” he hissed. “Exactly
how
did you know?”