Page 12 of The Hidden Kingdom


  “Great!” Jambu burst out. “Let’s go!”

  “Right now?” Blaze said. “Already?”

  Glory wasn’t sure if that was a good idea either. Her friends weren’t exactly expecting Blaze to show up, and it would be hard to stay hidden from Deathbringer with the SandWing parading along beside them.

  Still, this was what they wanted . . . a chance to meet the third queen candidate without risking imprisonment.

  “Yup. Right now,” Glory said. She shot a significant look at Mangrove’s corner, hoping he’d be smart enough to follow them out.

  Blaze picked up the mirror and checked her scales from several angles. Finally she swept one of the camel-hair blankets off the floor and flung it around her shoulders like a cape, then led the way to the door.

  Jambu darted to the corner, grabbed a patch of sand, which turned out to be Mangrove’s elbow, and tugged him along after them.

  Blaze started to turn around, but Glory was there to distract her. “Tell me about this tapestry,” she said, pointing to one with two large SandWing dragons flying across a blue background. “I don’t remember seeing it before.”

  “Oh, that one was my idea,” Blaze said. “It’s the tragic, romantic story of how my brother fell in love with a dragon he knew our mother would never approve of, so he kept her hidden from us, but then she ran off and broke his heart, although we were all thinking, Or did she, of course, because it is so likely that Mother just found out and had her killed, which was something she would totally do. . . .” Blaze chattered on about the tapestry as she swept through the antechamber.

  Glory glanced sideways at the two scavengers. The one with Silver’s eyes had fallen asleep and looked even more pathetic now.

  Blaze was several steps ahead and not paying attention to anything but the sound of her own voice. Glory scooped up the sleeping scavenger and slid it onto her back. It did not smell very pleasant at all. No wonder the RainWings preferred fruit; bananas never smelled this bad. She folded her wings back over it, hiding it as well as she could.

  Jambu saw what she was doing and grabbed the other scavenger. Even though it was awake, it barely struggled as Jambu tucked it under one wing.

  They hurried after Blaze, following her back through the hallways to the main door. They went by a few SandWing guards; Blaze addressed them by name and they saluted, but she didn’t tell them where she was going and none of them looked suspicious or even curious. None of them paid any attention to Glory and Jambu, or to their poorly hidden stolen goods.

  Almost every SandWing they passed was injured in some way. Blaze was unscathed, but all of her soldiers had scars slicing across their scales or missing talons or wounded tails. Glory thought of Dune, their SandWing guardian who had been so maimed by the war that he could never fly again. It had never occurred to her to ask him which side he had fought on before he joined the Talons of Peace.

  A blast of cold air smacked them in their snouts as they stepped outside. Blaze wrapped her blanket around herself more tightly, lifted her claws gingerly out of the snow, and whined, “Are you sure the dragonets won’t come inside?”

  Glory glanced back at Jambu. A shimmer in the air beside him was all she could see of Mangrove, but she was relieved to know he was there.

  “That way, Your Majesty,” she said, nodding south.

  Blaze heaved a sigh, spread her wings, and leaped into the air.

  Quickly Glory twisted around and dragged the scavenger off her back. She dumped it on the snowy ground and it woke up with a yelp. Jambu dropped the other one next to it.

  “Go on, run for your scrawny lives,” Glory said, poking her scavenger with her snout. The scavenger scrambled backward, then grabbed the other one’s arm and took off running through the snow.

  “Do you think they’ll be all right?” Jambu asked as he and Glory flew after Blaze. “It’s so cold out here.”

  “I bet that’s what all those furs are for,” Glory said. “Anyway, I’d rather freeze to death than be eaten by a SandWing.”

  “Blech,” Jambu said. “Meat-eaters. I don’t get it.”

  They caught up to Blaze and steered her toward the spot where their friends were waiting. As they flew, Glory scanned the ground below them for any sign of Deathbringer. The sun was high in the sky, although it felt like it was far away, behind a ceiling of ice. The frost glinted on the ground and now Glory could see scrubby patches of brown grass and twisted shrubs. A gray wolf trotted across the rocks, but he was the only sign of life she saw. Wherever Deathbringer was for the day, he’d hidden himself well.

  Her friends had done their best, too; several large boulders had been shoved together below the cliff to look like a fallen rock pile, and Glory nearly flew right over it. She circled back down to land with Jambu and Blaze behind her.

  Sunny was the first one out. “You did it!” she cried. “You found . . . him . . . wait.” She squinted at Blaze. “Uh, Glory? That’s an actual SandWing.”

  “I know. Don’t worry, Mangrove is here, too,” Glory said, flicking her tail. “It’s all right to show yourself now.”

  The RainWing slowly materialized in a dull green, unhappy color. He ducked his head and wouldn’t meet her gaze.

  “Yikes!” Blaze yelped, leaping away from him. “How did that happen? Where did he come from?” She looked around wildly as if she expected more dragons to suddenly poof out of the landscape.

  “What do you know about RainWings, Your Majesty?” Glory asked. She watched Blaze’s face intently, wondering if the SandWing knew anything about the missing RainWings, and if it would show in her expression.

  But the potential queen looked as mystified as before. “I’ve heard they’re pretty,” she said, tossing her head. “But I’ve never seen one.”

  “You have now,” Glory said. She held out her wings and let them shift to a light, nonthreatening purple. At the same time, Jambu’s scales shivered back to pink, although a paler, chillier pink than usual.

  “Ooooo,” Blaze said enviously. She reached out and took one of Jambu’s wings in her talons, inspecting the scales as if he were an inanimate tapestry instead of a living dragon. Jambu blinked at Glory but didn’t pull away.

  “Wow, I wish I could do that,” Blaze said. “I’d be a different color every minute!” She turned over the wing so Jambu had to contort himself into an odd position.

  She didn’t seem alarmed or angry to have been tricked by their IceWing disguises. Glory wasn’t sure whether to admire her bravery or roll her eyes at Blaze’s lack of caution.

  “Do you think the changing camouflage would still work if I had someone make, like, a coat of RainWing scales for me?” Blaze asked. “That could be pretty.” She eyed Jambu’s scales like she was trying to figure out how to take them off him. Mangrove finally looked up and met Glory’s eyes with a worried expression.

  By now Clay, Tsunami, and Starflight had all emerged from the rock pile as well. Starflight pointed at Blaze, his eyes wide.

  “Glory!” he cried. “This — this is — you found —”

  “I know,” Glory said. “Everyone, this is Blaze. Blaze, these are —” She hated the phrase, but it was what everyone called them. “These are the dragonets of destiny.”

  “Oh, wow, it is so, so, so exciting to meet you,” Blaze said brightly. “Where’s the SkyWing?”

  Glory managed to keep her face and scales from showing any reaction. The SkyWing is dead, she wanted to yell. You’re stuck with me instead. Deal with it.

  “Glory is our fifth dragonet,” Clay said. He nodded toward her.

  “Oh,” Blaze said, regarding Glory with skepticism. “But . . . she’s a RainWing, and the prophecy calls for a SkyWing. Doesn’t it?”

  “What prophecy?” Jambu asked. “What’s a dragonet of destiny?”

  “Are you serious?” Glory said to him. “Do you know anything about what’s goi
ng on out here?”

  “It’s far too complicated to explain,” Starflight said with a flick of his tail.

  “There’s a war going on,” Clay said kindly, “and a prophecy that says five dragonets will stop it, and that’s us.”

  “Oh,” Jambu said. “Neat.”

  “Yes, far too complicated,” Tsunami said to Starflight. The black dragonet frowned at her.

  “It’s a little more specific than that,” Blaze pointed out. “It says two of the SandWing sisters will die — hopefully not me! And it says the five dragonets are a MudWing, a SeaWing, a NightWing, a SandWing, and a SkyWing.”

  “We’ve got a RainWing instead,” said Tsunami. “And we’re fine with that.”

  “There’s also me,” Sunny piped up. “I’m the SandWing even though I’m weird-looking.”

  Blaze peered down at Sunny. “Oh my gosh. You are weird-looking! What’s wrong with your tail? Why are your scales the wrong color?”

  “I don’t know,” Sunny said, spreading her wings. “But I’m still the SandWing in the prophecy.”

  “Are you sure?” Blaze asked. She circled around Sunny, inspecting her. “Wow. You all are not what I expected. For one thing, you’re smaller. And I thought you’d be, I don’t know, prettier.” She stopped at Glory. “Explain the RainWing again? Also the other two RainWings — why are they here?”

  “You should go,” Glory said to Jambu. She glanced at Mangrove, who was shivering and tugging his wings around himself. “Take him home. You’re both going to freeze if you stay out here any longer.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mangrove said to her. “I thought —”

  “I know. We’ll find her, but not here.” Glory pointed south. “Both of you go. We’ll catch up soon.”

  Jambu didn’t argue. He was also shivering from wing tip to wing tip, and he looked especially glad to have an excuse to get away from Blaze.

  “Where are they going?” Blaze asked as the two RainWings lifted off. “Isn’t the rainforest kind of far from here?”

  “You know, we actually have some questions for you,” Starflight interjected. “Like, can you tell us why you should be queen instead of your sisters?”

  “Because I’m prettier and nicer and friendlier than they are?” Blaze said. “Obviously?” She smiled and whirled in a circle, holding the blanket out so it flapped like a flag. “I mean, haven’t you met them? Aren’t they both awful?”

  “Yeah,” Clay said ruefully.

  “Well —” Starflight said, then caught the look on Tsunami’s face. “I guess they are.”

  “But could you survive a challenge?” Tsunami asked. “If you did become queen, how long would you last before someone tried to take the throne from you?”

  “Ouch,” Blaze said. “That’s kind of rude, isn’t it? I’m a much older dragon than you. I’ve been in a battle — more or less.” She flicked her poisonous tail back and forth. “And I do have this deadly tail.”

  “So do all SandWings,” Tsunami said, unimpressed.

  “Hey, how do you cure someone who’s been scratched by a SandWing tail?” Sunny asked. “I mean, say, by accident.” She did a good job of sounding like she was just curious, but Glory knew she was thinking of Webs.

  “There’s this cactus juice that heals our poison,” Blaze said with a dismissive wave. “Grows all over the desert.”

  Once again, Glory thought, she’s not suspicious at all. Or worried about keeping SandWing secrets, apparently.

  “Anyway,” Blaze insisted to Tsunami, “I’ll have Queen Glacier to help me if anything goes wrong.”

  Tsunami snorted.

  “Glacier can’t fight for you in a challenge for the throne,” Starflight said.

  “She can’t?” Blaze said as if this was surprising news. “Huh. Well, she can still come down and kill whoever’s challenging me. She wouldn’t mind.”

  “But that wouldn’t be fair!” Sunny said. “That would violate all the challenge rules! Right, Starflight?”

  He nodded, but Blaze was already talking over them. “Who cares?” she said. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ll be such a great queen that no one will want to challenge me. There, that’s an excellent plan. So how does this prophecy thing work? Are you guys going to kill my sisters? That would make my life much easier.”

  Glory lashed her tail. She hadn’t thought of that. Killing off Burn and Blister — it was certainly one way to fulfill the prophecy. If they could do it, which seemed unlikely, considering armies of dragons had been trying to kill all of the sisters for eigh teen years already.

  Sunny looked taken aback as well. “We’re not hired killers,” she said. “We were thinking we’d tell everyone who we choose, and they’ll all listen to us and stop fighting.”

  “Oh,” said Blaze. “That sounds . . . nice. What’s the ‘power of wings of fire’? How do I get that?”

  These were all questions Glory had had about the prophecy her whole life, and yet she felt weirdly irritated to hear them coming from Blaze. As if the dragonets had all the answers!

  At the same time, it occurred to her to wonder why Blister — the smartest sister — hadn’t asked these questions. Perhaps she knew the answers already . . . or perhaps she wanted someone to think she did.

  “We’re figuring it out,” Clay said.

  “It’s not like we chose this,” Glory said. “We were sort of shoved into this whole ‘destiny’ thing.”

  “You weren’t,” Blaze said, her voice light and puzzled. “There’s no RainWing in the prophecy at all. Why don’t you just go home?”

  In the awkward pause that followed, Glory imagined all the other dragons having the exact same thought. Why didn’t she just go home, where she could sit safely in the rainforest and stay out of the war and sleep all day?

  Maybe I should, she thought. I mean, is it worth it, fighting for one of these three awful SandWings? Wouldn’t it be easier to give in and accept that I’m meant to be a lazy RainWing?

  It was almost a relief to be distracted by a NightWing assassin landing on top of the rock pile beside them.

  The others whipped around to stare at him, their tails lashing. Blaze squinted in a puzzled way.

  “Oh, hello. Is he in the prophecy?” she asked. “He’s cute. Cuter than this one.” She waved a talon at Starflight’s wounded expression.

  “Why, hello, everyone,” said Deathbringer. “Isn’t this a coincidence? I was just talking about you all this morning.” He turned to Glory and tilted his head at her purple scales. “Mystery dragon! Hmmm. There’s something different about you. Did you get your claws trimmed?”

  “Very funny,” she said, baring her teeth at him.

  “You could have told me you were one of the dragonets,” Deathbringer said. “I’d have asked for your autograph. I see now that you’re a RainWing, so . . . Glory, right?”

  That was creepy, that he knew her name. Even if she kind of liked the sound of him saying it. But it had to confirm her theory about him; otherwise why would he have bothered to learn it?

  “Right. The one you were sent here to kill,” Glory said. “Somehow I think that would have started us off on the wrong talon.”

  “I’m not necessarily here to kill you,” Deathbringer objected. “And even if I were . . . this seems like a much better opportunity to kill her.” He suddenly opened his front talons, revealing a pair of sharp silvery discs. Their edges gleamed like knives as he flung them, one after the other, right at Blaze.

  The SandWing shrieked and stumbled back, dropping the blanket, but she didn’t move fast enough. One disc embedded itself in her long neck, releasing a spurt of bright red blood that sprayed all over Sunny, who was standing next to her.

  The second disc sliced through the edge of one of Tsunami’s wings as she leaped in front of Blaze. It ricocheted into one of the rocks with a ringing sound. Tsunami co
llapsed, clutching her injured wing.

  Sunny screamed, looked down at her blood-spattered scales, and screamed again.

  Clay jumped forward and clapped both his talons over the cut in Blaze’s neck. “Throw me the blanket!” he yelled to Starflight. The NightWing looked back at him in frozen terror.

  Glory grabbed the blanket and flung it to Clay, who started to wrap it around Blaze’s neck.

  But then Deathbringer was there, landing on Blaze’s back and tossing Clay aside as if the hefty MudWing weighed no more than a salamander. Two more silver discs appeared in Deathbringer’s talons.

  Glory leaped at the assassin and knocked him backward off Blaze. They rolled on the frozen ground, his black wings tangling with hers. He was very strong and astonishingly fast. A black pouch around his neck thumped against her chest and she realized that must be where he kept his weapons. She seized it between her claws just as he pinned her down, his talons on her wings.

  “Killing Blaze was your assignment?” she said.

  “No, but I like to work outside the box,” he answered. “And if I kill her, I figure it’ll get me out of the trouble I’ll be in for not kill ing you.”

  “You can try to kill me,” she growled. “But I doubt it’ll be as easy as you think.” She ripped open the pouch and caught a few of the silver discs as they spilled into her talons. Several others clattered to the ground around her, but one was all she needed. She pressed it to Deathbringer’s neck before he could jump away.

  “You missed the biggest artery on Blaze’s neck,” she said. “If I remember my dragon anatomy correctly, it’s right here.” She applied a little more pressure and Deathbringer flinched as the silver edge left a thin trail of blood on his scales. He lifted his talons from her shoulders and carefully backed off her.

  Glory stood up, keeping the disc poised at his neck, and glanced over Deathbringer’s shoulder. Clay had the blanket tied firmly around Blaze’s neck, but blood was already seeping through the camel-hair fabric. The SandWing queen leaned against him, looking faint. Tsunami had also climbed to her feet and was examining the cut on her own wing with a scowl. Starflight hadn’t moved; Sunny was still staring at the blood all over her talons and wings.