It occurred to Moon, somewhere deep inside the mountain, that perhaps following Turtle off to a dark secluded spot might not be the best idea.

Between the vision she’d had of him and Anemone, and the fact that she had no idea what he was thinking, she suspected she probably ought to be more nervous.

But his mind was so quiet and — well, cozy seemed like a strange way to describe someone’s brain, but it was the best word for his. Trying to listen to it was like sinking into soft moss, muffling all the voices of the other dragons in the school. Or like being underwater, she guessed.

The voices got quieter anyway as they walked, putting layers of rock and space between her and the thinking going on up above. Neither of them spoke, although she could think of a million things she thought she should tell him. There were few torches down this far, but Moon’s eyes adjusted to the dark, and Turtle’s scales glowed just enough for them to see the floor beneath their talons.

Here and there she saw slick, glowing trails along the rocks, and after a while she realized they were left by luminescent snails as long as her claws.

Soon after that, she noticed a faint dripping sound up ahead, and then all at once, the passage opened up into a huge cavern studded with stalactites, shimmering with glowworms — and surrounding an enormous underground lake.

“Oh,” Moon whispered. At first she thought there were glowworms in the water, too, and then she realized she was seeing the reflections of stars. Far above them was a hole in the roof, big enough for a dragon to fly through with her wings outstretched. Big enough for the moons to shine through, casting broken silvery-green light across the still water. Two of the moons were visible through the hole, half full and swathed with clouds in the growing twilight.

Moon looked around for Pike and Tamarin, but although a faint burnt smell still hung in the air, there was no sign of the injured RainWing or the dragons taking care of her. They must have immersed her and then taken her to the healing cave.

Turtle nodded at the lake. “You should wash your shoulder. I’d take you to the infirmary, but I imagine Clay is busy with Tamarin right now.”

It had started to hurt in earnest while they were walking. Moon peered at it again, then slowly edged into the lake. The water was colder than she’d expected, sliding around and under her scales, and when it hit her wound, she yelped with shock.

There was a small splash as Turtle dove into the lake beside her. He surfaced and studied her shoulder as she gingerly dipped it under, washing off the dried blood. It started to bleed again, but after a minute it stopped, and she could see the prickly thing stuck in it more clearly.

“This might hurt,” Turtle said, and without any more warning than that, he pincered his claws around the object and yanked it out of the wound.

“Ow!” Moon cried. Turtle pressed his talons to her shoulder as another spurt of blood fountained out. She felt a little faint, and caught herself wondering what he would do if she collapsed here in the lake. Would he leave her to drown?

He lifted his claws, checked that the blood had stopped, and then dipped his talons in the lake to wash them off. He was still holding the strange object, and now he rinsed it off and peered at it.

“What is that?” Moon asked, scooping water over her shoulder. She could see that it was a blackish-brown misshapen sphere, about the size of a rainforest frog, and covered in those sharp thorns.

“I think I know,” he said, “but I should look at it in better light, and maybe check the library. How’s your shoulder? Can you fly?”

“Probably,” Moon said. She glanced up at the moons shining through the hole in the roof and caught herself wishing she could fly all the way to one of them and just stay there, surrounded by silver and silence.

“Go ahead and try,” he suggested. She knew he meant “try flying,” but she looked into his unreadable eyes and wondered if he was offering her the chance to escape. She could be out that hole and on her way to the rainforest in no time. Or even farther; she could run to somewhere where Winter wouldn’t be able to track her down and scrape out all her secrets.

But then he’d really believe I did it. And so would everyone — why else would I run away?

Moon hesitated for a moment, then took to the air, soaring over the lake and circling in the moonlight. Her shoulder hurt, but she could still move her wings. The silvery touch of the moons on her scales calmed her a little, but then she remembered Winter’s furious expression and felt sick all over again.

She swooped around in an arc, watching Turtle swim below her.

Will they tell everyone my secret? I guess there’s nothing I can do to stop them, if they decide to do that.

Do I wish I didn’t have this power?

If I couldn’t read minds, everyone I met would be like Turtle — completely unreadable. Strange and blank. I’d have no way to know if they were kind or cruel. I’d never understand why they act the way they do. Everyone would be all surface.

I’d think Winter was just mean; I wouldn’t know about his dead brother and how he hates himself more than anyone else. I might think Qibli was just goofy and ordinary, if I didn’t know about his layers and his amazing mind and his childhood. I’d have stayed away from Kinkajou, because I wouldn’t have known or believed that she really liked me.

I guess that’s how other dragons live … never knowing how complicated everyone else is.

That’s what it would be like, to be normal.

But if I could choose, would I want that?

And since I can’t choose … should I run away from what I can do, or risk revealing it to dragons who won’t understand?

Moon tilted her wings and sailed down until she landed on a craggy boulder that jutted out of the lake. Spongy, bluish moss clung to its sides and squelched under her claws. Turtle swam over and clambered up beside her.

“How did you find this place?” Moon asked.

He shrugged. “I went exploring. There are a couple of underground lakes, but this is the biggest, and the only one with a view of the sky.”

He leaned back to look up at the visible moons. Moon studied him for a minute. I don’t know him at all.

“So,” he said slowly, without meeting her eyes. “I guess you must know my secret.”

“No,” she said, stopping him before he could say too much. She was desperately curious, but she didn’t want to trick him. “Turtle, I — I don’t know why, but I can’t read your mind. With a few dragons, I just don’t hear anything.”

He gave her a startled expression. “Like there’s nothing in there?” His snout crinkled, amused. “That’s alarming. What are you saying about me?”

“I’m saying you’re safe,” Moon said. “Your secrets are safe. I can’t hear your thoughts.” She hesitated, wondering if she should mention the vision about Anemone. Something made her hold back.

“Oh,” Turtle said. “Awesome? I think?” He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I’m not very interesting anyway.”

I’m sure that’s not true, Moon thought.

“Thanks for letting me keep my secrets, then,” he said, giving her an easy smile. “So what are you going to do about Winter?”

Moon dug her talons into the rock. Her stomach hurt and she had this horrible, prickling, tense feeling everywhere, as if she might erupt out of her scales. She made herself lie down on the boulder and reached to drag one claw through the pool below her. “I guess I have to tell him the truth,” she said finally.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Turtle said. “Why don’t you figure out who really caused the explosion, and tell him that instead?”

Moon gave him a bemused look. “Oh, all right, I’ll just go solve that mystery by midnight tomorrow. No problem.”

He shoved her off the rock and she landed with a splash, coming back up startled and sputtering.

“What was that for?” she cried.

“You’re a mind reader,” he reminded her. “All you have to do is walk around the school until you hear someone’s mind going, ‘Well done, me; tip-top explosion I caused today; aren’t I a clever arsonist.’ ”

“It’s not exactly that easy,” Moon said, spreading her wings to stay afloat and shivering in the chilly lake. “It’s really noisy out there; you have no idea. And you’re not the only dragon who can shield his thoughts from me. What if it was someone like that — someone like you?”

“Well, it wasn’t me,” he said, not sounding the slightest bit offended. “So anyone else you can’t hear, put them on your list of suspects and keep listening to everyone else in the meanwhile. Why wouldn’t you? You could figure this out in an hour if you just hear the right dragon.”

“And if they’re thinking about it when I do hear them,” Moon said. She climbed back onto the boulder and shook the water off her wings. “But if it were that easy, I should have heard them planning it. I should have heard something from someone….” She stopped, realizing she had.

The conversation with the dreamvisitor. Planning to kill someone — multiple someones. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten about that, even in the chaos of the explosion. Was the fire in the history cave the plan she’d overheard?

And if so … then perhaps the dragon with the dreamvisitor (Queen Scarlet?) would return tonight to find out if it worked. Maybe there’d be another conversation between killers in the dark, under the cover of dreams.

And if Moon was listening at the right time, maybe she’d have a chance to catch them.