There was a sudden rush of wings, like a million seagulls taking flight at once. Sunny, Darkstalker, and Moon dove out into the storm; Anemone pivoted in a circle, as though startled that they’d left without her, then flew after them. Mindreader and Fearless exchanged a glance and finally followed as well.
Turtle hurried out from behind the gong and stood in the cave entrance for a moment, dithering. It would be hard to sneak along behind them; but then, he wanted to know what was happening; on the other talon, it was raining quite a lot; but then again, Qibli had asked him to keep an eye on Darkstalker, so that was really what he had to do, wasn’t it?
“Rrrgh,” he growled softly, and then he was out in the rain, instantly drenched, flying through flashes of lightning. He chased the dragons around the mountain to the cave Stonemover had chosen to live in for the rest of his life, like a petrified hermit crab.
Turtle had never visited the old NightWing animus during his time at Jade Mountain. He had a weird, irrational fear that the dragon would somehow recognize him as a fellow animus and reveal his secret. Although if he searched deeper, he’d also have to admit that he was afraid of seeing what an animus could become when he used his magic too much.
He heard Darkstalker roar, angry and earthshaking, sending a slide of rocks clattering down the mountainside. Turtle wobbled down to the ledge outside the cave and slid himself into the very edge of the shadows inside.
He sucked in a sharp breath as he suddenly realized how close he was to Darkstalker’s scales. The enormous dragon filled the mouth of the cave, leaning in toward the others. His smooth ebony side rose and fell only a thin slice of air away from Turtle’s nose.
If I touch him, will he notice me then? Or will he wonder why he can touch something that he cannot see?
Turtle held himself tensely frozen, wings pinned to the wall behind him like stingrays caught on a SeaWing’s sharp claws. From his position, he could just see a sliver of the cave beyond: Stonemover’s gray, fossilized arm; a tangle of NightWing tails; a pool of blood slowly creeping across the stone floor.
“Father!” Sunny cried, was crying, had cried several times over, the word echoing around the cave.
“Who did this?” Moon’s voice, then a glimpse of her teardrop scales as she turned to Darkstalker. “You must know.”
“He went into the tunnels,” Darkstalker said, pointing, his wings shifting warm, fire-smelling breath past Turtle’s face. “Otherwise I’d chase him down myself.”
“I’ll do it!” Anemone yelped from her spot at Darkstalker’s talons. She seized a loose prey bone on the floor. “Lead me to Stonemover’s killer.”
“Anemone, no!” But Sunny was too late; Anemone’s pale blue tail flashed a trail through the blood, and she was gone.
“Why didn’t you see this coming?” Moon asked Darkstalker. “I thought you could see everything, all the futures.”
“There are billions upon billions of futures,” Darkstalker answered. “I’m sorry; even I can’t study all of them, especially when something small can set off a sharp turn. Sunny, is he still alive? It seems like I can still hear a glimmer of life in his mind.”
“Oh — so can I!” Moon gasped.
“Um, yeah, ME TOO,” Mindreader declared quickly.
Darkstalker squeezed forward another few steps, and as he ducked his head, Turtle could see a slash of dark red beads dripping across Stonemover’s neck.
If Stonemover was still alive — Turtle’s healing rock could save him. This was a wound like Winter’s, on the surface, where the enchantment Turtle had crafted so thoughtlessly could actually help.
But to bring it out now would be suicidal. Not only would everyone discover that Turtle was an animus, but Darkstalker would want to know where the rock came from — who’d enchanted it, and how he didn’t know about it.
No, there was no way to help. Once again, Turtle had to sit on his claws and do nothing. He had to stay useless if he wanted to stay safe.
“He’s alive,” Darkstalker said firmly. “I can save him.” He reached up and snapped a stalactite off the roof with casual, terrifying strength.
“But — you shouldn’t — should you?” Sunny asked.
“He’s my family, too.” Darkstalker wrapped his front talons around the spear of rock. “Enchant this stalactite to heal the wounds of any dragon it touches,” he said in a deep voice.
A little deeper than necessary, Turtle thought. A little theatrical, let’s be honest.
But it seemed to have the intended effect on the dragons watching. All their eyes followed Darkstalker’s movements as he reached down and tapped Stonemover lightly on the chest.
A hushed moment passed, and then Stonemover let out a sigh. The slash of red on his neck knitted together and vanished. He rolled his head back with a groan of pain, opened his eyes, and saw Darkstalker.
“Hello,” Darkstalker said. “You’re all right now.”
“Who are you?” Stonemover croaked in his dust-covered voice.
“An ancestor of yours,” said Darkstalker. “Returned from the dead. So we have that in common! My name is Darkstalker.”
“No,” whispered Stonemover, his eyes widening.
“Don’t be scared,” Moon said quickly. “He’s not here to hurt us.”
“He saved your life,” Sunny added. She rested one of her small talons on Stonemover’s petrified shoulder, a tiny island of gold among all the black scales in the cave.
“With magic?” Stonemover said, sounding half-panicked. “No. You can’t. It’s wrong, it’s wrong — my claws! They’re not mine!” His eyes rolled wildly toward his talons and Turtle saw the stone cracking all along his arms, crumbling back to release the scales underneath.
“What do you mean?” Sunny asked. “What’s wrong?”
“These aren’t my claws!” Stonemover shrieked. “What are they doing? Stop them! Somebody stop them!”
Bewildered, Sunny pounced on one of his front talons. Darkstalker dropped the stalactite and gently pinned the other.
“Don’t panic,” he said. “You’ve had a shock. Someone tried to kill you, but you’re safe now. Your petrified scales are healing, that’s all — you’re not used to being able to feel your limbs anymore. In a moment all the rock will be gone and you’ll be back to normal.”
“They’re not mine,” Stonemover said again, in a low, desperate voice. Tension radiated through his muscles, down his arms to the claws that twitched and twitched, breaking free. “No. No, I gave mine up. My talons are gone. These are monsters crawling out of the earth and they will rend the sky and crush the wings of small dragons and I can’t let them I won’t I won’t I won’t let them be used again!”
His voice rose and rose to an agonized roar. The head-splitting sound pounded images of blood and death and slashing claws through Turtle’s brain: Do you trust YOUR talons do you trust them do you?
“Stop him!” Moon shouted to Darkstalker. “He’s trying to use his magic to hurt himself!” Mindreader had her talons over her ears and was huddled in a ball on the cave floor.
Darkstalker took Stonemover’s head in his claws and forced the roaring dragon to meet his gaze. “CALM DOWN,” he said in a voice that shook the mountain.
Stonemover’s voice dropped away. He stared back at Darkstalker.
“I’m healing you,” Darkstalker said. “That’s all.”
“Don’t,” Stonemover whispered. “It’s not safe.”
“You don’t have to punish yourself for being an animus.” Darkstalker flicked his tail, frowning. “You’re allowed to be whole, to be happy.”
I agree with Darkstalker, Turtle thought. Is that a bad sign?
I don’t want to spend my life in terror of my powers. I want to be happy, too.
Does that mean I’m in danger of turning out like Darkstalker? Would I rather end up like him or Stonemover?
He couldn’t imagine willingly fossilizing himself … but he looked down at his clenched talons and wondered what he would do to stop them from hurting anyone. Did Stonemover have flashes of blood and screaming in his head, too, before he cast his spell?
Stonemover rolled his eyes toward his tail, where more rock was crumbling away. “I can’t be free,” he said. “I don’t know what I might do. Cage me again. Leave me in stone. It’s the only way to be safe.”
“He means it,” Moon said to Darkstalker. She edged around the pool of blood to catch some of the falling pebbles from the old dragon’s wings. “He’s terrified of his power, of his own claws, of any dark magic. His mind is shredding itself to pieces.”
“Yeah, and it’s giving me the worst headache,” Mindreader complained.
“All this fear,” Darkstalker said with a sigh. “I’ve seen it before.” He brightened. “Maybe I can fix it! The right spell could take away all his worry —”
“No!” Sunny and Stonemover said at the same time, looking equally alarmed.
“No spells on my brain,” Stonemover said, his voice rising toward panic again.
“Why not?” Darkstalker asked with genuine bewilderment. “If it would make you happier?” He turned to Moon. “Isn’t it all right to make other dragons happier, if you can?”
“Not if they don’t want you to,” she said gently.
“But they should want me to,” he said. “It makes no sense.” He lifted his wings in a shrug that nearly whacked Turtle in the nose. “Fine, all right, I’ll leave him in his misery.”
“And put me back the way I was,” Stonemover asked, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.
“Dragons who wallow in their own tragedy,” Darkstalker muttered. “So pointless.” He scooped up a talonful of rocks and crushed it in his claws, then blew the stone dust all over Stonemover’s wings, tail, and arms. A moment later, the cold gray of the cave began creeping over Stonemover’s scales again, embedding him into the walls and floor once more.
“There you go,” Darkstalker said. “May you always be as thoroughly unhappy as you want to be.”
“Thank you,” Stonemover whispered, relief printed all over his face.
Darkstalker wrinkled his snout at Moon and she shook her head at him. Turtle wondered if they were communicating telepathically. Did Moon really like Darkstalker?
If she did … did that mean Turtle was wrong about him?
Healing Flame, saving Stonemover, protecting Anemone’s soul, giving powers to the NightWings. Darkstalker hadn’t exactly spent his day spreading evil and doom.
Am I worrying about nothing?
Sunny wrapped her arms around her father’s neck and hugged him. Blood from the healed wound smeared her scales, but she didn’t seem to notice.
A few minutes passed in silence, and then they all heard footsteps coming up through the tunnels. Sunny sat up and arranged her wings as though she was trying to match an image of a queen in her head.
“I found him,” Anemone announced, coming into the cave. A dragon edged into the space behind her. The sharp edge of the broken prey bone pressed into the crevice below his jaw, enchanted to threaten him forward.
It was Flame, guilt and shame written all over his new, perfect face.
Sunny stared down at him without comprehension for a long moment, not understanding who he was.
“Flame?” Darkstalker said at last. “Why would you do this?”
“Especially when Darkstalker just healed your face!” said Anemone. “I thought you’d be dancing and flying around. It’s not exactly normal to celebrate by killing some random old dragon.” She noticed Stonemover’s eyes open and jumped back. “Yikes! And you didn’t even do it right! You guys, the fossil is still alive!”
“We know,” Fearless said. “Darkstalker saved him.”
“Flame, why would you do something like this?” Sunny asked.
“He lied to me,” Flame said through clenched teeth. “He could have healed me, but he chose not to.”
“Oh, wow,” said Mindreader, squinting at Flame. “Moon, are you hearing this, too? This dragon seriously hates everyone.”
“Stay out of my mind!” Flame shouted at her.
Mindreader jerked back with a yelp.
“But you are healed,” Sunny said to him wonderingly. “So why would it matter who did it? Enough to kill someone for it?”
“He lied to me,” Flame growled, sinking closer to the floor.
“That’s an interesting complaint coming from a dragon with his own secrets,” said Darkstalker. He beckoned with one claw, and Flame’s leather pouch ripped free and floated into Darkstalker’s talons.
“Give that back!” Flame roared, but when he tried to leap forward, Anemone stood in his way, glittering with self-righteousness. The bone pressed itself harder into his neck, conjuring a jeweled drop of blood, and Flame stopped with a gasp of pain.
“Wow, he is so angry,” Mindreader reported. “Oooo, he wants to horribly kill all of us!”
Darkstalker shook the pouch and caught two objects as they tumbled out:
Flame’s library card, and …
… a blue sapphire, shaped like a long, elegant star.
“The third dreamvisitor!” Sunny gasped.
“That’s right,” said Darkstalker, holding it up to catch the light. “This is what I’ve suspected since I first heard Moon’s prophecy. Flame is the darkness of dragons … and he’s the stalker of dreams.”