“This doesn’t feel like a normal SkyWing party, somehow,” Peril said to Queen Ruby.

“That’s because it’s missing all the fun brutal murder parts,” Queen Ruby explained.

They were standing on the top level of the Great Hall, looking down at a mass of dancing, singing SkyWings. Peril watched them hug and spin and clap wings with one another and thought wistfully of the full-moon festival, and how she might never get to dance with anyone in her entire life. Even if she could ever talk Clay into it, she had a feeling he was the kind of dragon with four left talons.

“I mean,” Ruby went on, “think about how Scarlet’s parties usually went, or what they were for. Actually, you’ll sleep better if you don’t know,” she added to Turtle.

That was true. Peril shivered. Parties for executions, parties for thrillingly bloody arena days, parties for Scarlet’s hatching day or Burn’s visits that featured all kinds of dragon-killing entertainment. The Sky Kingdom probably hadn’t seen a party in twenty years that didn’t revolve around Scarlet’s gladiator fetish.

But the SkyWings were making up for it now. Somehow about eight orchestras’ worth of percussion and stringed instruments had materialized over the course of the day. Now that night had fallen and the storm had passed, music filled the halls of a palace that had once reverberated only with the shrieks of burning dragons.

Peril looked down at her claws. “Your Majesty, I — I’m sorry about the eggs on the brightest night.”

“Stop,” Ruby said. She drew Cliff closer under her wing; he’d insisted on staying up till midnight, and he looked a lot more awake than Turtle, who kept yawning and leaning on things. “Listen. You were only a dragonet … not much older than Cliff … and Scarlet was the only parent you ever had. Or friend, or anything. None of the rest of us even tried to see you as a real dragon. I saw a weapon, and that was it. But now … I think about what could happen to Cliff if he’d been born with firescales, or if my mother had gotten her claws into him. I think a lot about how he’ll turn out with me as his mother. So I don’t blame you anymore.”

“Gosh, I do,” Peril said. “All the things I — I mean, if you just do the arena numbers, plus the random dragons she disliked, and all the burning, and then you think —”

“Peril,” Turtle interrupted. “This might be one of those instances where less detail is the way to go.”

“I know it was bad,” Ruby said. “But you can make up for what you’ve done. At least you can try. If we let you try.”

“Oh,” Peril said. “You bet, of course I’ll try. I just need a few more epic battles to the death that I can throw myself into. Point me at some more dragonets in distress! Or viper bites I can tackle! I’m also great at toasting squirrels and boiling water, anytime you need either of those.”

Ruby laughed, then glanced at her dragonet and looked serious again. “This should be obvious to everyone who saw you save Cliff,” she added, “but just to make it official: you are no longer banished. You are welcome throughout the Sky Kingdom and anywhere Cliff and I go. If you want to move back to the palace, you can.”

“Oh,” Peril said, oddly embarrassed. “Thanks — I’ll think about it.”

Is this it? Is this what being a hero feels like? Is this what Clay and Tsunami and Sunny feel like every day?

I thought I’d be more … different. I thought suddenly it would be easier to be good — I thought it would come naturally once I did enough good things, or the right big good thing. But I still feel just as muddled about what to do next … and I kiiiiiiiiiiiiiind of still want to set that guard over there on fire because I swear he’s laughing at me. Not to mention there are lots of wonderfully vengeful things I could do to Chameleon that keep parading through my brain.

Speaking of Chameleon … Peril frowned down at a commotion on the level below them.

“Your Majesty,” she said. “Isn’t that one of the guards who was supposed to be keeping an eye on Cham — er, Soar?”

Queen Ruby didn’t have to answer; the guard was now swooping up toward them with a terribly alarmed expression.

“I’m sorry!” she cried, landing next to the queen. “I don’t know what happened! I know you said not to let any other dragons in or out, but suddenly there was a NightWing there — a really big one! And he came from inside the room and I don’t know how he got in there! And he knocked out Harrier with his tail in one blow and then he flew off and the SkyWing was gone! I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” She flung herself into a deep abject bow.

On the other side of the queen, Turtle sat up, all his sleepiness gone. He looked much more worried and much less … puddle-like than usual.

Queen Ruby reached out and raised the guard to standing. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she said. “We didn’t expect him to run, so it’s my own fault for not taking more precautions. Go make sure Harrier is all right.”

The guard’s face was all relief from snout to horns as she bowed and flew away again.

“How worried should I be?” Queen Ruby asked Peril. “What do you know about that dragon?”

Peril had thought there would be more time — time to tell her queen everything, time to make Chameleon feel safe here and figure out what to do with him and how to deal with the scroll. She hadn’t thought he would bolt the first chance he got.

Without saying good-bye. Without thinking about me at all, maybe.

“I know he’s really a RainWing,” she confessed. “He could use that scroll for anything, but so far he mostly only uses it for shape-shifting … I think because he could never change his scales when he was a RainWing. I don’t think he would do evil things with it on his own — that was just for Scarlet — but actually, I don’t really know him that well.”

“He has a NightWing shape?” Turtle said. “And he was working for Scarlet? Is he the one who hurt Kinkajou?”

Peril flinched. Why had she let herself forget about that? Because he offered me everything I thought I wanted. “Yes,” she admitted. “He hates RainWings because they banished him from the rainforest.”

“Then we can’t let him wander around free with a weapon like that,” Turtle said.

“I should have taken it from him right away,” Queen Ruby said, shaking her head. “I was trying to reward his cooperation. All right, I’ll send out a search party.” She saw the anxious expression on Turtle’s face and added, “Or six. Six search parties. Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

She spread her wings and flew down to the throne room with Cliff right behind her.

“We can’t wait,” Turtle said to Peril. “We have to go after him right now.”

“Yes,” she said. “But Turtle, one more thing you should know … he’s my father.”

“Wow,” he said. “You have had bad luck with parents.”

“But good luck with friends,” she said, grinning at him.

“You big sap,” he said. “And I can’t even punch you to shut you up.”

“You could,” she said. “That would be pretty funny for me.”

He flicked his tail at her and lifted off, sailing through the open roof and into the star-speckled sky. Peril followed, feeling the rush of cold wind against her blazing wings. Every moment that she got farther away from that necklace, she felt more and more like herself again. No more troubling or guilty thoughts about Scarlet; nothing but clear memories of Clay.

Can I go back to Jade Mountain now?

Have I done enough?

The questions somehow felt less pressing than they had before. She still missed Clay very much — but she had important things to do. Such as find her father, get that scroll into talons that could be trusted, and maybe help Turtle and his friends stop some big new terrible prophecy, if they’d have her.

“If he’s a NightWing, he’ll blend right in up here,” Turtle called to her, lashing his tail in frustration. One of the moons was almost full, but leftover clouds from the storm hid most of the moonlight from the mountain peaks. “We need help.” He angled south abruptly.

“Uh-oh,” Peril said. “Tell me we’re not off to find a mind reader and an IceWing who might be holding a grudge.”

“I left them in that valley,” Turtle said, pointing. “They said to signal when I needed them.” His scales began flashing, and Peril nearly flew into a cliff, she was so startled. She knew SeaWings had glow-in-the-dark scales, but she’d never seen a dragon use them at night before. Luminescent spirals and shapes like webbed talonprints lit up all along his wings. It was sort of beautiful, in a weird fishy way.

Almost immediately, she saw an answering burst of twin flames from the dark valley below them. Soon after that three shapes rose up to meet them — two of them pale and ghostly, one barely a flicker of shadow.

“You did it?” Qibli said as soon as they were close enough to talk. “You actually … rescued her?”

“Not exactly,” Peril said.

“But thanks very much for the skeptical tone,” Turtle said.

“Is she safe to be around?” Winter asked harshly. “What do you think?” He tilted his head at Moon.

“I AM,” Peril said. She thought MUSHROOMS AND MONGOOSES at the NightWing as loud as she could, and Moon started giggling.

“That seems like a good sign,” said Qibli, giving Moon a smile that reminded Peril of that NightWing who always followed Queen Glory around.

“Guys, we don’t have time for a prickly reunion,” Turtle interrupted. “Scarlet’s ally has escaped and it’s worse than we thought. He’s a shapeshifter, so he can look like a dragon from any tribe. And he’s got this animus-touched scroll that can enchant anything, as far as we can tell.”

Moon let out a yelp so loud it echoed off the mountains.

“A scroll?” she cried. “Really? You’re sure?”

“Uh — yes,” Turtle said. “We saw it.”

Moon looked deeply agitated now. Peril regarded her with new interest. Was the NightWing hiding something from all of them, even her alleged friends?

“What do you know about this scroll?” Peril asked.

“Nothing!” Moon said. “Was it wrapped in a black leather casing?”

“Yeess,” Turtle said, staring at her.

“Maybe you should tell us all the ‘nothing’ you know about it,” Peril suggested.

“I just … I heard a story once,” Moon said, “about a NightWing scroll from long ago that was animus-touched. It sounds like this could be the same scroll.” She fidgeted anxiously, twitching her tail over her talons. “That would be bad. We would really, really need to get it back, if it’s the same scroll. That’s what I know.”

“I was hoping you could try listening for him,” Turtle said. “He escaped the palace not long ago, so he can’t have gone too far.”

“He’s in his NightWing form,” Peril added. “The one where he calls himself Shapeshifter.”

“Very subtle,” said Qibli.

“Shh,” Moon said, closing her eyes. “I don’t think I could pick up anything from way up here.”

“Let’s fly along the river,” Peril said. “I have a feeling he’s gone that way. He said something to me about becoming MudWings.”

She saw the hesitation in their wingbeats — should we trust this dragon? Are we really going to follow her? But when she turned and swooped away, Turtle was right beside her, and the others weren’t far behind.

Going to the MudWings sounded like the next thing her father would do. He wouldn’t become Cirrus again, now that Peril knew that shape. She guessed he wouldn’t be comfortable underwater, even in a SeaWing form — and he’d have to worry about keeping the scroll dry. Going west to the SandWings meant Queen Thorn, who already had a reputation as someone impossible to corrupt. And she couldn’t imagine him returning to the rainforest, either as a RainWing or a NightWing.

But the MudWings were close, and Queen Moorhen had once been Scarlet’s ally. She might be willing to take in a strange dragon who offered mysterious power in exchange for treasure.

Peril dove toward the Diamond Spray River, which glimmered like molten silver in the places where moonlight broke through. She remembered Clay swimming away down this river with his friends — heading home to the Mud Kingdom, and away from her. The memory still made her chest ache.

But at least I have that memory.

Suddenly Moon banked right and stopped, hovering in place with her front talons pressed to her head. After a moment, she lifted one of them and pointed.

“I think he’s over there,” she whispered.

They slipped after her, gliding as quietly as they could.

In a clearing by the river, fiddling with something in his talons, hulked a large black shape.

He made himself enormous, Peril thought. The kind of scary NightWing everyone has always whispered about.

Qibli flicked his wing to catch her eye, then pointed to each of them, conveying silent instructions.

A moment later, they landed in a circle around Chameleon. Peril’s talons were only an inch from his tail.

“Don’t move,” she said.