So … maybe now it’s time to run and hide, Turtle thought. Back to the Kingdom of the Sea; back to the anonymity of his pack of brothers. Back to a world so distant that Darkstalker might never come there; back to the only place that might be safe, at least for a little while.

This was too big for him to handle. He sort of had Qibli — but what if something happened to Qibli, or Darkstalker figured out how to ensnare him again? Turtle could end up as the only dragon in Pyrrhia who saw Darkstalker the way he really was — and then what? Spend the rest of his life as the unbalanced invisible dragon, trying to convince his friends they were bewitched by a sinister magician?

The mad prophet of doom … not exactly the role I ever saw myself in.

But the alternative was “coward who sits and waits for the inevitable apocalypse.” If he scurried off back to the ocean, would anyone ever notice what Darkstalker was doing? Would anyone ever be able to stop him?

So if he couldn’t run away and he couldn’t change anyone’s mind and he couldn’t fight Darkstalker himself … what could he do?

I need help.

He touched the cord of his pouch, tied around his neck. Should he write to Qibli? Ask him to come here?

He could feel his worrying reflex kicking into action. His scales felt hot and clammy at the same time.

Was he sure that Qibli was free of any Darkstalker spells? What if Darkstalker had enchanted his spell to be irreversible, even by other magic?

Or what if he’d enchanted Qibli to stay at Jade Mountain, so seeing him in the rainforest would make him suspicious? Everything Qibli did might give Darkstalker a clue that his spell wasn’t working on him anymore. Turtle’s safety would be in danger if Qibli and Darkstalker spent too much time near each other.

I wish I could get his advice, though. Turtle dropped his talons, frustrated. Too bad the slates don’t work both ways. Thanks to me being a short-sighted idiot again.

Who else could help him?

I need someone who hasn’t met Darkstalker yet.

Someone who’ll believe me. Someone who can actually be the hero.

His mother? Would Queen Coral believe him if he went to her with this story? Would she be able — or willing — to fight Darkstalker?

He couldn’t really imagine her trusting him that much. And if she did and brought the SeaWings out to fight Darkstalker, wouldn’t that put Turtle’s entire tribe in danger?

So perhaps one of the other queens. Glacier, Ruby, Moorhen, or Thorn … would any of them listen to a SeaWing? And wouldn’t they fall under Darkstalker’s spell the moment they met him?

Not to mention, in order to convince them his story was true, he’d have to tell them everything.

As in, oh, yes, and I’m an animus everything.

He shuddered, and his hold on the coral loosened, and it darted forward in a flash and bopped Queen Glory on the side of her tail.

She turned to stare at him. “What was that?”

“Nothing! Nothing,” he said. “My talons slipped. Sorry.”

She raised one eyebrow. “You’re an odd dragon, Turtle.”

“That’s what my friends tell me,” he said, and his friends rose up in his mind, and a possibility shot through him, shining with hope.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “May I ask — how is Kinkajou?”

“I don’t know,” Glory said, her wings drooping. “The healers can’t understand why she hasn’t woken up yet. They don’t know what to do for her. We all thought that once she was back in the rainforest, around the smells and sounds and sun that she grew up with, she’d —”

“Back in the rainforest?” Turtle interrupted. “She’s here?”

“Of course.” Queen Glory flicked her tail, knocking loose a shower of yellow blossoms. “I wasn’t going to leave her alone on the other side of the continent. The healers got back with her yesterday.”

“Can I see her?” Turtle asked. His claws were tingling. Kinkajou hadn’t met Darkstalker. Kinkajou would believe him. He could trust her with his secret.

And Kinkajou was much more cut out for heroism than he was.

Glory gave him directions to the healers’ pavilion, not far away, tucked into a little alcove of the rainforest that seemed even more peaceful than the rest of the village. Turtle could smell healing herbs and oranges as he flew to the opening.

Inside, sunlight poured through the rooms from skylights that had been opened in the roofs. A pair of pale blue healers were asleep in one corner; another was neatly folding cobwebs and moss into bundles on one of the shelves. She looked up as Turtle came in, but seemed only mildly surprised to see a SeaWing in her pavilion. She swept one wing toward the bed where Kinkajou slept, and Turtle nodded, unconsciously flashing his scales in Aquatic, yes, that’s who I’m looking for.

Kinkajou lay in a sunbeam that outlined every scale with gold. She was still as white as an IceWing — white being the color of pain or shock to the RainWings — but in this sun it was the white of opals, jeweled and glinting with hints of hidden colors, pearl-pinks and sparks of green.

It wasn’t the color of her scales that made her look so unlike Kinkajou. It was her complete stillness. Turtle had never seen Kinkajou sit still for a moment. Even in class, her wings always twitched or her claws fidgeted or her face would make sideways expressions at him or Moon: WHAT did he say? I knew that answer! Is it time to eat yet are you starving I’m starving! Isn’t school AMAZING?

Turtle sat down beside her bed and curled his tail in, missing her in a way that filled him with heavy seaweed from nose to tail. He knew this was ridiculous; he didn’t even know her that well. They’d had barely four days at Jade Mountain before everything went wrong. Before Kinkajou left to find Winter’s brother, defeat Scarlet, and save the world from Moon’s prophecy … while Turtle chose to slink back to the safety of the school instead.

That was exactly why he needed her. “Kinkajou,” he whispered. “Can you hear me? I need you to wake up.”

Knowing Kinkajou, he half expected her to open her eyes and joke, “Oh, well, if you need me to, then sure! I was just taking a really long nap, but let’s go fight some bad guys!”

She didn’t, though.

He’d already tried this, back in Possibility, but now he fumbled his healing river stone out of his pouch again. His stupid, shortsighted enchantment that only healed surface wounds. Still, he brushed it lightly along Kinkajou’s bruised spine, over the bandages on her broken ribs, and gently around her fractured skull.

In Possibility, they’d watched the bruises fade and all the scrapes and cuts disappear. But it didn’t work any deeper, and Kinkajou did not wake up. This time wasn’t any different. Kinkajou still lay quietly, quietly breathing, eyes closed.

Turtle had wanted to enchant something right then that could wake her, but he was afraid that one of the Possibility doctors would notice. And Moon had been worried for his soul. She’d suggested waiting two more days, at least, to see if Kinkajou woke up on her own. But then they’d flown off to find Peril, which had led them to the scroll, and then the release of Darkstalker, and now here they were, and now he couldn’t use magic to help her.

He crushed a bright orange flower between his claws, frustrated. If only he’d been brave and stubborn enough to heal her earlier!

But then she would have met Darkstalker along with everyone else. She’d be under his spell, too.

“Kinkajou,” he said sternly. “Enough sleeping. Time to get up and save the world.”

No reaction.

“You know you’ve always wanted to,” he wheedled. “Think how impressed Queen Glory will be! All you have to do is wake up. And figure out how to stop the most powerful dragon in the history of Pyrrhia. No problem, right?”

No reaction from Kinkajou, but he got a very odd look from the healer at the other end of the pavilion.

All right, he couldn’t talk her awake, and he couldn’t use his magic …

Wait.

He couldn’t use his magic.

Turtle thought for a long time, his brow furrowed into serious wrinkles. Five iridescent purple butterflies settled on his tail and fluttered serene butterfly thoughts at one another without him even noticing they were there.

Finally Turtle blinked and sat up, scattering indigo wings in all directions. He had a plan. Possibly a terrible plan, but the only one he could think of.

He flew out of the pavilion and used his coral again to navigate the rainforest and find his way back to Anemone. The SeaWing princess was swimming in a pool several lengths upstream from Darkstalker’s gathering. Her pale shape flickered like a dolphin below the water, in and out of the shadows.

Turtle landed with a squelch in the mud, let the coolness sink into his claws, and waited for her to surface.

“Oh, hi!” she said cheerfully when she finally saw him. “I was wondering where you went! Darkstalker’s stories are great, but I’m kind of not so interested in ancient NightWing history. Blah blah eight million years ago they had a cool library YAWN. I was like, so what were the SeaWings up to back then? and he was all, ‘getting massacred.’ So THAT was cheerful. I would say come on in, but I should warn you there are all kinds of weird sticky plants under the surface here.”

“Thanks anyway,” Turtle said. “Hey, Anemone … is it true you can do as many spells as you want now?”

“Yup!” His sister ducked under the water and surfaced again, shooting a spray of water at a grumpy-looking frog on the riverbank. “Thanks to my cool enchanted silver necklace.” She tapped the collar with one claw. “I’m going to cast so many spells, it’ll be like the sea is full of magic! I could rebuild the Summer Palace! Or make us a new palace, maybe. I can stop hurricanes! I could make Uncle Shark’s scales turn bright pink and all his teeth fall out, ha ha. I could enchant every pearl in the ocean to come rolling up to our door!”

“Oh,” Turtle said, bewildered by this rush of ideas. “But … the pearl divers like their jobs.”

“It’s just an example, Turtle,” Anemone said scornfully. “I’m just saying, when we get home, things are going to be pretty different in the Kingdom of the Sea.”

“You’re not … you’re not going to try to take the throne, are you?” Turtle asked. He hadn’t quite thought ahead to what might happen if Anemone decided to use her magic against their mother in a challenge duel. It didn’t seem fair; although Queen Coral had somehow defeated Orca, who had turned out to be an animus, too, but a secret one. Like me.

“Not yet,” Anemone said with a laugh. “I want to have a lot more fun before I get stuck in a boring old palace making decisions all day. And I want to learn everything Darkstalker can teach me about being an animus. Isn’t he cool? Don’t you feel like an idiot for being so worried?”

“Right.” Turtle glanced downstream, realizing that Darkstalker might come looking for Anemone any moment now. “So — since you’re so superpowerful now — could you do something for me?”

An irritated look briefly flitted across Anemone’s face, and Turtle winced, knowing exactly how she felt. Other dragons wanting to use your magic … it was like they were asking to wear your scales.

“Like what?” Anemone asked.

“It’s Kinkajou,” Turtle said. “I wouldn’t ask for me, but — she’s really hurt, and she won’t wake up, and I’m afraid only magic can save her.”

“Oh,” Anemone said, her frown clearing like the tide pulling away from the beach. “Awww. You want me to save the cute little RainWing you’re in love with!”

“I’m not in love with her!” Turtle protested. “But she’s — you know, she’s awesome — and I just want her to get better.”

“I can totally do that,” Anemone said gleefully, splashing out of the pool toward him. He bopped her lightly with the wriggling coral as she went by, but she didn’t notice. “But I am going to tease you about it forever. You think she’s cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute, you totally loooooooooooooove her.”

“ANEMONE.” Turtle swatted at her with his tail and she danced away, giggling.

In the palace, Anemone had been a distant figure. Always attached to the queen by a harness, she was never allowed to wander freely or associate with her rough-and-tumble brothers. Turtle had only known her as the beloved princess who got all their mother’s love. He’d seen her at royal gatherings or at Queen Coral’s scroll readings, sitting quietly beside her, soaking up all that attention.

But then Tsunami came and caught the assassin, and a new princess finally hatched, and Anemone was released from the harness at last. She began visiting her brothers out of curiosity, and Turtle watched her closely, wondering what her life was like as a known animus. She seemed funny and happy much of the time — but there was a dark streak to some of her jokes, along with an imperious certainty that she deserved all of her princess privileges.

It worried him, and it worried him more the more he found he liked her.

“All right, take me to your sleeping beauty,” Anemone said dramatically.

“Oh, brother,” Turtle said, rolling his eyes.

He tucked the coral back into its pouch and lifted off into the trees. Anemone followed him, singing, “Turtle and Kinkajou, flying in the sky, Getting all K-I-S-S-Y —”

He clapped his talons over his ears and kept them there the rest of the way to the RainWing village.

Anemone fell silent as they crossed the threshold into the healers’ pavilion. She gazed around at the other patients: a RainWing with a head wound and a NightWing with a jagged tear in one of his wings. Both of them were unconscious, probably tranquilized. Turtle wondered if their injuries made Anemone think of all the wounded SeaWings who’d survived the war and the bombing of the Summer Palace. Maybe instead of collecting pearls and turning their unfriendly uncle shades of fuchsia, Anemone might think about healing some of her fellow dragons instead.

Not that I’m one to judge. How many dragons have I ever helped with my magic?

Turtle stopped next to Kinkajou, and Anemone went around to her other side, studying the pale little RainWing. Kinkajou was older than Anemone, but they were not very different in size. Anemone lifted one of Kinkajou’s drooping talons.

“Wow,” she said softly. “She does look terrible. I’m sorry for teasing you, Turtle.”

“Oh, good,” he said.

“I mean, I’m going to keep doing it,” she added. “But not until she’s well again. OK, let me think for a minute.” Anemone scrunched up her snout. “Oops! I was supposed to tell Darkstalker if I decided to do any more spells. He doesn’t really want me trying new things on my own yet.”

“Seriously?” said Turtle. “Haven’t you been doing spells on your own pretty much your whole life?”

“That’s TRUE,” said Anemone. “And I mean, what does he care if I heal some random RainWing, right?”

“Exactly,” said Turtle. He held his breath.

“I’ll tell him about it when we get back,” Anemone said, flicking one of her wings and startling a cluster of dragonflies in the leaf roof.

“What are you going to enchant?” Turtle asked, exhaling with relief.

Anemone glanced around dubiously at the flowery vines, the leaves, the wooden bowls of herbs; all the biodegradable rainforest things that wouldn’t last very long. Her eyes fell on the black leather pouch that was tied to Kinkajou’s ankle.

“Maybe something in here?” she said, poking it open.

“Wait —” Turtle started to say, but already Kinkajou’s library card was tumbling into Anemone’s palm, along with one of the skyfire rocks from Turtle’s armband. A gift to protect her thoughts from Moon — or any mind reader — although Anemone had no way of knowing that.

His sister peered at the rock for a moment, then looked up at him with wide eyes, apparently noticing the holes in his armband for the first time.

“Ha! You gave her one of your rocks from the sky!” she crowed. “You love her SO MUCH!”

“Can we please get on with this?” he demanded. It was going to be a hilarious day whenever she discovered that he’d also given matching rocks to Winter and Qibli.

“Well, this should work,” she said, curling her claws around the star-speckled rock. She closed her eyes.

This is it, Turtle. One chance. Perfect timing. Right … NOW.

“I enchant this rock to heal Kinkajou of all her injuries so she can wake up, as happy and healthy as she’s ever been,” said Anemone.

And at the same moment, Turtle thought with all his might, Enchant this skyfire to make Kinkajou immune to any spell Darkstalker has ever or will ever cast, and enchant it to make her completely insignificant in his eyes — not worth thinking about, not visible in his futures, not in any way a threat to him.

He wasn’t sure how many times over you could enchant an object, or if one animus touch might cancel out another, so he added hurriedly, and enchant it to heal all her injuries as well.

This was the key; casting his spell in the same moment as Anemone’s. He didn’t know the details of Darkstalker’s warning system, but he hoped one spell would obscure the other, like Qibli thought. He’d considered the phrasing of his spell as carefully as he could, borrowing Qibli’s words and adding more of his own. He hoped Darkstalker would forgive Anemone for using her spell to help Kinkajou — that was why he couldn’t hide Kinkajou the way he’d hidden himself — and he hoped Darkstalker wouldn’t think too hard about what else might have happened here.

Anemone opened her eyes and gave Turtle a sly smile. “And while we’re at it,” she said, her voice playful, “I also enchant this rock to make Kinkajou love Turtle just as much as he loves her.”