Darkstalker spent the rest of the day in the main entrance cave, reading through scrolls and talking to any students who were brave enough to approach him. By the middle of the day, it began to feel quietly normal to have him there. He didn’t do anything sinister. He didn’t use any magic. He acted like a friendly visitor who just needed to use the library on his way through the mountains.

Anemone sat beside him with her chin lifted, looking as royal as she did when she sat beside Mother at council meetings. Every once in a while Darkstalker would pass her a scroll and ask her to read it out loud to him, or to check it for references to Fathom, and she would do so, beaming.

The school gradually returned to its usual activities. From his spot, hidden behind the bronze gong, Turtle saw MudWings pass through on the way to the art room; he saw SandWings carrying musical instruments; he saw RainWings with baskets heading out to pick berries.

There was no sign of the IceWings. Turtle wondered if they were hiding somewhere.

He also wondered why nobody came to make Anemone go to whichever class she was supposed to be in. Pike stalked through a few times, eyeing Darkstalker suspiciously, but didn’t try talking to him.

At one point, around midday, Turtle watched Clay gather the SkyWings to hear Peril’s story of the duel between Queen Scarlet and Queen Ruby. Soon they came back through the cave, all of them with relieved expressions, knowing that Scarlet was dead and Ruby was safely their queen for certain now.

One of them paused not far from Darkstalker and gazed enviously at the treasure Anemone had swept into a messy pile. He was the one with the badly scarred face, from the Gold Winglet. He had a black leather pouch around his neck, like most of the students, but no other accessories — nothing like Anemone’s confections of sparkles from the sea. Turtle couldn’t remember speaking to him; the SkyWing always looked as if he was in a murderous mood.

“Hello, Flame,” Darkstalker said politely. He put a rock down on the scroll he’d been reading to hold his place.

“Stay out of my head,” Flame snarled at him.

“With pleasure,” said Darkstalker.

“I know you were poking around in my mind before.” Flame lashed his tail and glared up at the NightWing. “I felt it. I hated it.”

“Yes,” Darkstalker said thoughtfully. “Indeed. It’s quite dark in there.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Flame demanded.

“Like, evil-dark?” Anemone asked curiously. “Or there’s-nothing-going-on-inside dark?”

Flame hissed at her and Darkstalker gently stepped between them.

“You know, I have an idea, Flame,” he said. “I could fix your face.”

The SkyWing dragonet started back and touched his venom-slashed snout, scowling. “Don’t lie to me,” he said. “I already asked an animus to do that, and he said he wouldn’t. Or couldn’t. Slithering toadstool worm.”

“You mean Stonemover?” Darkstalker said with a surprised expression. “I wonder why he said no. It wouldn’t be that hard, or take very much out of him.”

“Really?” Flame looked even more furious. “He moaned and griped and acted like it would kill him. He said he couldn’t cure all the wounded dragons in Pyrrhia, so why even start. Festering rotted lungfish!”

“Oh, dear,” said Darkstalker, shaking his head. “Well, I’m sure he has his reasons. But I could certainly do it … if you want.”

Flame hesitated. Turtle could see his talons trembling slightly, although his face was fixed in a state of permanent rage. Finally he said, “Why would you do that for me? What do you want in return?”

“Nothing at all.” Darkstalker caught a deep indigo flower that was drifting down from one of the banners overhead and cupped it in his claws. He took a step toward Flame, who held his ground. “I am currently trying to prove to certain dragons that I’m not the villain they think I am. I can be trusted. I’m here to help others. So why shouldn’t you be one of the ones I help?”

“No strings attached?” Flame said. “Ha. I don’t buy it.”

“I have a lot to make up for,” Darkstalker said. “What’s that word … oh, I’m atoning. I need M — everyone to see that.”

“I don’t need your pity and I don’t want to be your experiment,” Flame growled.

“It’s a simple good deed, Flame. There’s no need to be so suspicious.” Darkstalker stopped in front of him, his head nearly brushing the fire globes on the ceiling. Flame stared up at him as though he was frozen in place, paralyzed by wanting something and not believing he could truly have it. “I’ve seen in your mind how badly you need this. Just accept it.”

Darkstalker reached out and brushed the flower across Flame’s face, tracing the scar from one end to the other. “I enchant this flower to heal Flame the SkyWing, without pain, erasing his scars and returning his face to the way it was before the accident with the SandWing.”

He lifted the flower away and Flame jerked back. Turtle watched, awestruck, as Flame’s scales writhed and rippled over his snout like snakes suddenly rising up and shaking off their skins. Flame let out a yell, clapped his talons over his eyes, and wrapped his wings around his head.

In the ensuing silence, Darkstalker quietly plucked the petals off the flower and let them drift down to the stone floor.

Finally Flame folded back his wings and lifted his face toward the light.

Turtle stifled a gasp. He’d expected it to work, but it was shocking to see the smooth, unblemished ruby scales and the perfect shape of Flame’s face. The SkyWing dragonet looked years younger and infinitely more innocent. Turtle wondered with a stab of shame whether he had judged Flame by his damaged looks, assuming he was a scarier dragonet than he truly was.

Flame’s claws touched his snout, brushing over the new scales with disbelieving care, as though they were made of the thinnest ice and might shatter at any moment.

“Wow!” Anemone blurted. “You look totally different! Darkstalker, that’s amazing!”

Flame glanced up at Darkstalker, then turned and bolted from the cave.

“Oh, right, don’t bother saying thank you!” Anemone called after him. “Some dragons,” she said to Darkstalker, shaking her head. “You know, I offered to cure Starflight’s blindness once, but Tsunami said no, my soul was too valuable, whatever whatever.” She touched her neckband. “But now I can! Or you can! One of us can. Won’t Starflight be excited?”

“I’m not sure,” Darkstalker said kindly. “It’s a generous idea, but in my visions, he’s reluctant to accept a magic cure from us. Maybe if we give him a little time to get used to the idea.”

“Reluctant? Why?” Anemone demanded. “We can fix everybody now!”

Darkstalker didn’t respond. His eyes were on a tunnel across the cave, where, a moment later, Moon emerged, leading the other three NightWing students.

“Well, this is exciting,” said Darkstalker with a smile.

“I thought a better introduction might be in order,” Moon said. She glanced at the other NightWings anxiously. “All right? Everyone, this is Darkstalker. He promises he’s not as bad as all the stories say he is. Darkstalker, this is Mightyclaws, Mindreader, and Fearless.”

“I know,” Darkstalker said. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you all face-to-face. It seems like the NightWing tribe has changed a lot since I was around.”

Fearless was the first to speak. Turtle peeked out and saw her claws nervously picking at the rock below her. “What was it like in your day?” she asked.

“Amazing,” said Darkstalker. “We were without question the most powerful and sophisticated tribe. Our kingdom had a remarkable library, a huge training arena where we hosted all the tribes for tournaments, a museum with the most beautiful art in Pyrrhia, and a new music festival every full moon. It was glorious.”

“It was?” said Mindreader wistfully.

“I can’t believe it’s all gone,” Darkstalker said, shaking his head. He touched the scroll beside him as though all his memories had vanished into it.

“Do you know where we’ve been living all these years?” Mightyclaws asked. Turtle noticed that he was the only one with a note of hostility in his voice.

“I can see it in your memories,” said Darkstalker. “The island, the volcano — it looks terrible.”

“It was terrible,” Mightyclaws said accusingly.

“In a place of such darkness and danger,” Darkstalker mused, “the NightWings who are left must have been very strong to survive.”

The dragonets hesitated, glancing at one another. The sound of the rain pouring down outside filled in the silence. It sounded like claws running overhead, like the waterfalls in the Summer Palace, like hurricanes closing in as the waters rise.

“I guess,” Mightyclaws said thoughtfully. “But we live in the rainforest now.”

“That’s much better,” Mindreader interjected. “Now we’re not starving or sick anymore, and we can breathe.”

“I’m sure,” said Darkstalker, “although … now you don’t have a queen.”

“We do!” said Moon. “We have Queen Glory.”

The other three nodded — Mindreader first, Turtle noticed, and the other two more slowly.

Darkstalker’s eyebrows twitched, but he didn’t say anything for a moment. “And I understand no one in the tribe has powers anymore,” he observed.

“Were those really real?” Fearless asked. “Could NightWings really do all those things, once?”

“Some of them could,” he said. “If they hatched at the right time. We had mind reading and prophecy classes for the gifted in my school.”

“Oh, wow,” Mindreader breathed. “Not just classes on pretending to read minds and how to make up believable prophecies?”

Darkstalker chuckled. “No, it was all real.”

“I wish I could really read minds,” she said sadly.

“Do you have any jewelry on you?” Darkstalker asked.

“Um … this?” Mindreader held out her arm to display a bracelet of green and silver glass beads strung along a twisted black wire. Turtle guessed she had made it here, in art class.

“Heads up, Moon,” Darkstalker said, sliding the bracelet off Mindreader’s arm. “Exciting things about to happen!”

“Is this a good idea?” Moon said anxiously.

“We can’t leave this poor dragonet with a name that’s a lie, can we?” he asked. Darkstalker held the bracelet between his claws for a moment, with something glimmering in his dark eyes. Finally he passed it back to Mindreader.

“Wish granted,” he said, smiling again.

“What — oh!” She gasped as the bracelet touched her scales. She looked up at him, eyes wide with wonder. “I can — I can hear what everyone’s thinking! I really can! Is this real? Three moons! Let’s see — the SeaWing princess is thinking I don’t deserve a gift like this. Moon is worried about whether it’ll be too much for me, hearing everything all at once. Mightyclaws and Fearless are both super jealous. Ha! This is amazing!” She did a little jump into the air, fluttering her wings.

“Moon’s right,” said Darkstalker. “It’s a lot to handle at first. But Moon can help you if you feel overwhelmed.”

“Moon can?” said Mightyclaws. “Why?”

“Darkstalker —” Moon started.

“Have a little faith in your fellow NightWings, Moon,” Darkstalker said. “Don’t you think it’s fair for them to know that you have mind reading and prophecy powers?”

“WHAT?” Fearless cried. They all looked at Moon as though she had suddenly sprouted six extra heads.

“But I was going to tell them,” Moon protested. “I mean, eventually. Soon. When I figured out how.”

“Well, now we’re even for you telling your friends about skyfire,” Darkstalker said cheerfully. “Besides, I promise nobody’s going to hate you, the way you were so worried everyone would. Right, my friends?”

“I don’t hate her,” Mindreader said with a touch of smugness, admiring her bracelet.

“How could you keep something like that a secret?” Fearless demanded.

“That’s not fair!” Mightyclaws cried. “She got to grow up in the rainforest, safe and fed and happy, and she gets all our lost powers?”

“Ooooo, he’s thinking, why couldn’t it be ME?” Mindreader announced gleefully.

“All right, genius, anyone could guess that,” Fearless snapped at her. “Does your mother know?” she asked Moon. “I’m assuming yes, since lying apparently runs in your family.”

“How could I tell anyone when I knew you’d react this way?” Moon confronted her. “Exactly the way I expected?”

“Hey now, hey now,” Darkstalker said. He reached out with one massive talon and nudged Fearless back a few paces, away from Moon. “That’s right, I forgot one little step. Sorry, Moon.” He turned to Mightyclaws and tapped the miniature diamond stud embedded in the dragonet’s earlobe. It was so small that for a long time Turtle had thought it was a tiny silver scale, but now he could see that it was an earring.

“Tell me, Mightyclaws, if you could have any power, what would you choose?” Darkstalker asked.

“Darkstalker,” Moon said warily. “Shouldn’t you be thinking about your soul?”

“All taken care of,” Darkstalker said, waving one of his wings at her. “Right, little princess?”

“That’s right.” Anemone flared her wings and looked imperious. “So you can quit acting like you know everything, Moon. Darkstalker and I are just fine.”

Moon gave her a puzzled sideways look.

“So, Mightyclaws.” Darkstalker’s eyes glittered at the young NightWing. “What do you think? Any power at all.”

“I guess … prophecy?” he said. “I mean … to be different from Mindreader.”

“You’re thinking too small.” Darkstalker grinned with all his teeth. “Don’t limit yourself to traditional NightWing powers. What if you could do anything? Any power you can imagine!”

“Oh, Darkstalker,” Moon said, starting to pace up and down the cave. “I’m really not sure about this.”

“Oooo, she’s imagining all sorts of terrible things!” Mindreader reported enthusiastically.

“Shouldn’t we check with Sunny or Tsunami or Queen Glory, at least?” Moon asked.

“Do you think they’d really stop me from improving these dragons’ lives?” Darkstalker asked. “Look how happy Mindreader is now.”

“Yes … but …” Moon trailed off.

“But you want all the power for yourself, is that it?” Mightyclaws asked, lashing his tail. “You don’t like the idea of other dragons being special, too?”

“Powers like these can be hard to live with,” Moon said fiercely. “I’m just worried for you all.”

“I’ll take yours if you want to give them up,” Mightyclaws suggested.

“Me too!” Anemone said. “Ooo, then I’d be just like Darkstalker!”

“Moon is sensible to worry,” Darkstalker said soothingly, “but luckily I am here to make sure everything turns out fine. Mightyclaws, what have you decided?”

“And me?” Fearless interjected. “Am I getting a power, too?”

“Do you have anything to enchant?” Darkstalker asked, looking her up and down.

“I will!” Fearless whirled and ran out of the cave.

“I have one idea,” Mightyclaws said hesitantly. “But it might be stupid.”

“It’s not,” said Darkstalker. “I can see what you’re thinking. It’s very creative.”

“What?” Anemone demanded. “What is it?”

“I don’t get it,” said Mindreader. “He wants to draw things and then make them real?”

“Like, if I draw a sword, then I could touch it and it would become a real sword,” Mightyclaws said, glowing a little with excitement. “And if I drew a pond, I could touch it and it would become a real pond. Or if I drew a banana, then I could touch it and, and, um … have a real banana to eat.”

“Oh, that’s what he really wants,” Mindreader giggled. “An endless supply of food.”

“Would have been pretty useful back on the volcano,” Mightyclaws bristled. “You wouldn’t be making fun of me then! You’d be kissing my claws for a banana!”

“We don’t live on the volcano anymore,” Mindreader pointed out. “We live in basically the banana capital of the universe. We don’t need a magic banana-maker.”

“It’s not just for bananas!” Mightyclaws cried.

“Well, I think it’s extremely clever,” Darkstalker said, and Mindreader subsided at once. “Let me think for a moment about how exactly to word the spell.” He tapped his chin pensively for a few long, silent seconds, and then he touched Mightyclaws’ earring again, whispering under his breath.

“There we go,” he said.

“Did it work?” Mightyclaws asked.

“Run to the art cave and see,” Darkstalker suggested.

“Bring me back a banaaaaaaana!” Mindreader called after him as Mightyclaws darted away.

“Darkstalker, why are you doing this?” Moon asked. She stopped pacing and sat down with her tail around her talons. Turtle wished he were brave enough to stand next to her, taking strength from her strength. He wished she could tell him what to think about any of this. The more he watched Darkstalker, the more confused he felt.

Because this was a good thing Darkstalker was doing, wasn’t it? Giving other dragons powers?

That’s what you want to think, his conscience whispered.

“Our tribe needs help, Moon,” Darkstalker said earnestly. “They’ve fallen so far. I want to restore them to the powerful tribe I remember, and if I can do that by sharing my gift, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because … are you sure you won’t turn evil?” Moon asked. “And these are huge decisions — shouldn’t you think about them a little more?”

“I have been thinking about them,” Darkstalker assured her. “I’ve been thinking nonstop since I woke up, and I’ve checked all the possible futures. This is the best path, believe me. A happy NightWing tribe. Talons of power for everyone!”

“Talons of power?” Moon echoed, her eyes wide. “Like the prophecy? The whole ‘beware’ part?”

“I’m just joking,” said Darkstalker. “Try not to worry so much.”

“I’m back!” Fearless ran into the room, panting. “I’m here! I have something!” She thrust out her arm. A pair of silver and black wires had been hastily twisted into a rough bracelet, barely visible on her wrist. She smiled up at Darkstalker in a frighteningly worshipful way.

“Superstrength, please,” she said breathlessly.

Darkstalker smiled back at her. “Anything you wish.”

He touched her wrist and muttered something. When he finished, she turned her talon over, then spun around and slammed her tail into a stalagmite. It instantly crumbled into a cascade of tiny rocks.

Fearless let out a shriek of delight. “Did you SEE that?” she cried.

Mindreader toyed with her own bracelet, frowning. “Well,” she said. “It’s cool, I suppose, if you like that kind of thing. I mean, a bit obvious, but all right.”

Darkstalker suddenly sat up, lifting his head as though he could see monsters crawling out of the stalactites. He stared into space for a moment with faraway eyes. The other dragons all held their breath and watched in silence.

“Did you sense something?” he said finally, looking down at Moon.

She shook her head. “What was it? A vision?”

“More of a premonition,” he said. His expression was troubled — and if this was an act, Turtle thought, then Darkstalker was really good at it. Even Turtle felt his anxiety jump a few notches higher. “Someone’s in danger. Can you feel it?”

Moon closed her eyes. Mindreader saw her do it and immediately closed her eyes, too, putting on a deeply pensive look.

“Hmm, yes,” said Mindreader, nodding. “The princess who smells like fish is thinking maybe she should give herself some cool powers like ours. Ha ha, copycat. Oh, and there’s Sunny’s mind — coming this way with a squirrel for Darkstalker, wondering what he’s found out about Clearsight.”

Turtle felt a flash of worry that she’d hear his mind, hiding nearby, and give him away. But then he remembered the skyfire, which shielded him from all mind readers. He felt for his armband with a sigh of relief. Only three stones left; the other three holes marked the stones he’d given to Winter, Qibli, and Kinkajou. Would Moon want a stone for herself, now that there were two other mind readers around? Maybe not; he wasn’t sure she’d still be able to read other minds if she was holding a skyfire rock.

“It’s Stonemover!” Moon cried suddenly, her eyes flying open. She leaped to her feet, wings spread wide, and turned toward Sunny as she entered the cave. “Sunny, your father — someone’s trying to kill him!”