“Tsunami’s a prisoner?” Queen Thorn said disbelievingly.

“But whose?” said Qibli. “And how? Tsunami? Of all dragons — how? And why? And who?”

“Darkstalker, right?” said Winter. “Who else could it be? He must have had a vision of her coming with the earrings, snuck off, captured her, and stuck her somewhere.”

“But Tsunami doesn’t seem to know who her captor is,” Qibli pointed out. “Even if she was blindfolded or drugged, she’d have some clue just from his size, wouldn’t she?” He closed his eyes, trying to think. Who else could have Tsunami? Who would dare grab the famous warrior of the five prophecy dragonets? What did they want with her?

Darkstalker did make the most sense … but it didn’t feel like the right answer to him.

“Now we really have to go back to Jade Mountain,” Winter said, standing up. “They must be worried sick about her. And we’ll need their help to find her and rescue Turtle anyway.”

“I’ll check on Glory and the other queens,” said Thorn. She took the Obsidian Mirror back from Qibli, clearing its surface. “And I’ll start distributing all those earrings you made. Thank you, Qibli.”

“I don’t know if it’s enough,” he said. “Maybe I should leave you the bowl …”

“There are earrings all over my palace right now,” she said. “Between them and your sand I’m surprised I can see any of my royal things. Trust me, it’ll be enough for the time being. I’ll keep the Obsidian Mirror, but you might need the bowl.”

“We should give it an imposing name, too,” he said. “The Inscrutable Bowl of Infinite Stew, or something.”

Thorn wrapped her wings around Qibli and hugged him tightly. “Go keep saving the world,” she whispered in his ear. “I always knew you would.”

“Me?” he said as she let go. “Really?”

“Yes,” she said. “Well, unless you screw up and bury it all in sand first.” She tapped one of his bracelets. “No more storms, Qibli.”

“Right,” he said. “Absolutely.” He nodded. “Unless it’s an emergency.”

“No!” she said. “Use your brain, not someone else’s unreliable magic. Or I will hunt you down and bury you in a sand dune.”

“Yes, boss,” he said, grinning at her.

But he thought about it as they flew south toward Jade Mountain; he thought about magic and power and who had which and what you were supposed to do to fight bad guys when you had neither. Surely it was better to create an accidental sandstorm here and there, if it was all in the name of stopping villainy? He needed that magic, any magic at all, to even the balance — not that balance was even possible when it came to Darkstalker.

What else could he do? How else could Qibli fight, or rescue Turtle? Ordinary rang in his head. Small. Insignificant. Useless.

One scruffy street dragon against the most powerful dragon in history and all the minions he’d given superpowers to?

Winter’s flashing silver scales crossed his peripheral vision and he glanced over at his friend.

One scruffy street dragon and one exiled prince. Plus a fierce little rainbow, if we can get to her before Darkstalker does.

Qibli’s wings were tiring by the time they flew past the Scorpion Den, but he didn’t want to stop until they reached Jade Mountain. The sight of the sprawling den gave him more of a shiver than ever as he wondered where Vulture had gone. To Darkstalker, or back to his compound?

“What’s that?” Winter said suddenly. He pointed to a shape crouched by one of the small desert pools, barely big enough to count as an oasis. They flew closer and saw that it was a dragon drinking the water — but not a SandWing; the coloring was more of a gray-blue-pink … odd but familiar …

“It’s Anemone!” Qibli gasped. “I thought she was with Darkstalker! What’s she doing all the way out here?”

“We should stay away from her,” Winter said, banking sharply up to a higher air current. “She practically threw herself into Darkstalker’s web. She’s more loyal to him than anyone.”

“Or deeply enchanted,” Qibli pointed out. “She needs to be freed from him as badly as you did.”

“Have you forgotten that she’s an animus?” Winter argued. “And your hideous earrings only protect us from Darkstalker’s spells, right? She could tangle us right back up, or do something worse. It would be idiocy in the extreme to go anywhere near her.”

“I think she needs our help,” Qibli said stubbornly. “She’s alone in the desert — maybe she ran away from him.”

“Or maybe Darkstalker sent her this way for one of his sinister plans,” said Winter. “Qibli! Stop! What are you doing? Get back here, you absurdly irrational dragon!”

Qibli ignored him, swooping down toward the SeaWing princess. He understood Winter’s points, but he was sure Anemone needed help and that it was important to free her from Darkstalker if they could. In addition, she was a promising link to Darkstalker and the Night Kingdom. He just had to hope he could charm Anemone into putting on an earring.

He wheeled around to approach her from the front so he wouldn’t startle her. She looked up at the sound of his wingbeats and, to his surprise, her whole face lit up.

Does she actually know who I am? Is Winter right — did Darkstalker send her looking for me?

“Wow,” Qibli said, landing with a splash in the shallow water beside her. “It’s not every day a SeaWing princess looks so happy to see me.” He couldn’t help grinning back at her. Dragons who smiled at him, dragons who seemed to actually like him — he could never resist them.

But Anemone didn’t say anything. Instead she sat up, waved her front talons in the air, and frantically pointed at her snout.

“Something’s wrong,” Qibli realized out loud. “Is it — wait.” He stepped closer, staring at something she held in a death grip with her claws. “Is that Turtle’s stick?” He’d only seen it once, briefly, when Turtle had been rearranging things in his pouch before he left for the rainforest with Moon and Darkstalker. But he knew the importance of the stick Turtle had enchanted to hide him from Darkstalker. And this one Anemone was holding had the same aura to it — a don’t-notice-me-but-I’m-everything aura.

Anemone’s wings drooped and she nodded miserably.

“So that’s what happened,” Qibli said. “That’s how Darkstalker knows about Turtle? Because you have his hiding stick. Did you take it from him?”

Her head snapped up and she scowled at Qibli.

“Why can’t you talk?” Qibli walked slowly around her. Her silver neckband — the one that was supposed to protect her soul — was missing. And she was covered in scratches, as though she’d been in a fight very recently. Had she fought Turtle to take his stick? Had Turtle cast a spell to stop her from speaking?

It was sort of hard to imagine Turtle fighting anyone. Or coming up with a useful spell on his own. Sorry, Turtle, Qibli thought with a wince. He wished he could stop himself from having thoughts like that about Turtle, who was a good dragon at heart. It wasn’t Turtle’s fault that the universe had given him magic instead of Qibli, or that he was sort of terrible at using it.

Anemone let out a frustrated growl, splashing her tail in the water. She pointed to her mouth again, then used the stick to write in the sand in big wobbly letters: Darkstalker spell.

“Oh!” Qibli said. “We can fix that! Anemone, look!” He had taken a few earrings from Thorn’s stockpile; now he dug in his bag and pulled one out. “Just put this on. It’ll cancel any spells that Darkstalker has put on you, and protect you from any in the future.”

Anemone reached for it hesitantly, but paused, studying him.

“It’s safe, I promise,” he said. If she had Turtle’s stick, she must know by now that her brother was an animus. He hoped anyway — he didn’t want to be the one breaking that news to her. “Turtle enchanted it. He made one for me, see?” Qibli pointed to his own ear. “I asked him to protect me from Darkstalker’s magic. That’s all it does, I swear.”

The look of hope on her face was heartbreaking — which was a strange feeling to have for the SeaWing princess, who had always been kind of a brat to everyone.

She took the earring delicately between two claws and stared into the amber for a moment. Qibli felt his heart jumping nervously as she lifted it and affixed it to her ear.

Her blue eyes were as big as full moons. “Did it work?” she said, and then gasped, clapping her talons to her snout.

“Looks like it,” Qibli said, beaming.

“I can talk!” she shouted. “I’m free! Let’s go kill that evil son of a slug!”

“Whoa, hang on, hang on,” Qibli said, catching one of her wings before she could take off. “Tell us what happened! All we know is that Turtle’s been captured by Darkstalker.”

“Us?” Anemone echoed. She looked up at the sky and spotted Winter.

Qibli waved to him to come down and Winter reluctantly descended, looking wary and disgruntled. As he did, Anemone leaned over and grabbed one of Qibli’s forearms.

“Hey!” she said. “These are MY bracelets!”

“Oh, right,” he said. “Sorry — um. We needed them and you just … left them behind, so … we thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“Well, you can give them right back,” she said, flicking her claws demandingly at him.

He felt a twinge of outraged possessiveness. Why should I give them to her? She left them at school; she didn’t even care about them until she saw I had them! She has plenty of magic, but this is all I have.

“I want to keep them,” he said. “I mean, for now. Until we deal with Darkstalker. Please?” He gave her a charming grin. “In exchange for my very fashionable earring?”

“That earring looks even worse on her than it does on me,” Winter announced, splashing toward them.

“Doubtful,” said Anemone. “I can pull anything off.” She tossed her head. “Besides, I’d wear a necklace of dragonbite vipers if it meant I was free of Darkstalker’s spells.” Her large blue eyes narrowed at Qibli for a moment, as if she was looking at him through a jeweler’s glass, examining all his flaws. “Fine,” she said finally. “You can keep the weather bracelets, FOR NOW.”

“Thank you,” Qibli said.

“So what happened?” Winter asked. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“And why did Darkstalker enchant you to stop talking?” Qibli asked.

“He did worse than that,” Anemone admitted. “He enchanted me to obey his every command.”

“Like the spell on his father,” Winter said, shuddering. “You’re lucky you’re still alive.”

“Oh. Turtle gave you his stick, didn’t he?” Qibli realized. “To protect you from that spell. Once you were erased from Darkstalker’s mind, he couldn’t control you anymore — or at least, he could, but only if he somehow remembered you were there.”

“Wow,” said Winter.

“Yeah.” Anemone drew the stick in toward her heart. “I know, I know, it was super brave of him, but can we save the mushy stuff for after we kill Darkstalker?”

“You could kill him right now, can’t you?” said Winter. “We can end this right here! One spell from you and zap, he’s dead.”

Anemone shook her head with a little snarl. “I would, believe me. But he told me none of my spells will ever work on him. He’s protected himself against my magic — the same way these protect against his, I guess.” She touched the earring in her ear.

“And you couldn’t cast any other magic — like freeing yourself — because he can sense animus spells being cast,” Qibli said. “You’re in the same current as Turtle was. You don’t want to do anything that will make him notice you.”

“Yes, I do!” Anemone said ferociously. “I want to make him notice me by stabbing him in the eyeball!”

“I am suddenly seeing the family resemblance between you and Tsunami,” Winter remarked.

“Who is also in danger,” Qibli said to Anemone. “Someone has her prisoner, but we don’t know who.”

“Um, of course we do!” Anemone cried. “It must be Darkstalker! He hates all SeaWings because of Fathom; especially my family, because we’re descended from him.” She jumped into the air, nearly whacking them both in the face with her tail. “Now we have to rescue my brother and my sister! You can tell me as we go — let’s talk and fly, talk and fly, slowpokes!”

“Where are we going?” Winter asked, stepping back as Qibli jumped aloft with the princess.

“To the lost city of night!” Anemone said.

“To fulfill the prophecy!” Qibli said gleefully. “To save the world!”

“To kill Darkstalker!” Anemone cried. “Hooray!”