But I’ll tell you some of his story since it is late and I cannot sleep at night anymore, not when there’s moonlight pouring in through those small, high-up windows. Also, I enjoy wasting the queen’s lamp oil.
And if you are even considering setting me free while keeping him trapped, I will roast your talons one claw at a time.
(Or perhaps I’ll simply betray you to that six-clawed interrogator who oversees the guards — I bet he’d like to hear about the secret map you’ve been drawing of the stronghold, or the way you stand in dark corners and whisper to someone who isn’t there.)
I knew Strongwings from the moment I hatched, although I did not particularly like him at first. He was three years older than me, but the dragonet dormitory in the NightWing fortress had more than enough space for the smattering of dragonets in the tribe, so we all lived there together until the age of ten.
Strongwings was a notorious mess and possibly the slowest dragon in the tribe. He kept leaving bits of carcasses around his sleeping spot, or accidentally stepping on everyone’s tails on his way to bed at night. He never spoke in class, unless it was to say something boneheaded to one of the other dragonets, who always ignored him. Everyone ignored him. I ignored him. I was too busy and ambitious to make friends. Besides, he wasn’t the sharpest claw on the dragon, if you know what I mean.
I only remember feeling mildly relieved when he turned ten and was moved to the adult quarters, taking his mess and his snoring and his stupid jokes with him. I didn’t even see him again until a few months later, soon after my seventh hatching day.
It was a miserable day on the island — more miserable than usual, I mean. The clouds were pouring this drippy mix of rain and sleet all over us, so it was cold and wet outside but stifling inside, and all the ashes in the air were sticking damply to our wings and creeping into our snouts, so it felt as though we were breathing volcano even more than usual.
I snuck out of class because I couldn’t take one more minute of Great and Glorious NightWing History when my lungs felt like moldering sacks of wet paper. That teacher is nearly blind anyway; he didn’t even notice me slipping out the back tunnel.
The halls of the fortress smelled like wet dragon. Gusts of damp wind and splatters of sleet kept swirling in through the cracks in our walls, sizzling on the coals and turning the air smoky. I was looking for somewhere as far away from the outside as possible — a corner of the fortress that was completely protected — and I thought of Mastermind’s lab.
Mastermind was our science teacher, and the tribe’s resident genius, if you can believe all the hype about him. I say, if he’s such a genius, he should be able to explain stuff in a way that dragons can actually understand. Instead he showed up once a week, blathered on for hours using the biggest, most made-up words possible, and then slithered back to his lab, leaving all of us even dumber than we were before.
He had a whole giant inner room of the fortress for his experiments, and it was well protected from the outside air. Mastermind was obsessive about keeping other dragons from touching his stuff, but maybe I could sit in a corner and … hmm. Well, maybe he wouldn’t be there.
He was definitely there.
“YOU’VE RUINED IT! THE WHOLE THING! OUR ENTIRE TRIBE COULD BE WIPED OUT BECAUSE OF YOUR STUPIDITY!”
I paused outside the door that said LABS and tilted my head, listening. There was an enormous crash and then several smaller crashes. And then scrabbling talons, and I just barely managed to leap back before the door slammed open and a beefy black dragon came charging out, flapping his wings wildly.
“AND DON’T COME BACK OR I WILL DISSECT YOU ALIVE!” Mastermind’s voice bellowed as the door swung shut.
The dragon flopped over on the floor, panting for breath.
“Hello, Strongwings,” I said. “Causing disasters as usual, I see.”
“Oh,” he said, sitting up fast. “Uh, hi, Fierceteeth.”
“What did you do now?” I asked.
“I knocked a bottle of … uh … something into a vat of … uh … something else,” he said. He scratched his head, looking mournful. “There were bubbles … and some weird gas … I don’t know. Sometimes he explains the experiments to me, but that just makes it more confusing.”
“Kind of an idiot MudWing move, going in there in the first place,” I observed. “You plus breakable things and unstable chemical compounds? Clearly a bad idea.”
“That’s what I said!” he protested. “I didn’t want this job! It was Mother’s idea, and she’s friends with Princess Greatness, so that’s, you know, they made it happen. But I told them the dumbest NightWing ever hatched shouldn’t be Mastermind’s assistant.”
There were a few more ominous crashing sounds from behind the door.
I realized Strongwings was giving me a funny look.
“What?” I demanded.
“I was kind of hoping you’d disagree with me there,” he said.
“About what?” I asked.
“About me being the dumbest NightWing who ever hatched.”
“Oh,” I said. “Sorry. I would have, if I could think of anyone dumber.”
He actually laughed, which was intriguing. Most NightWings will try to counter your sarcasm with more sarcasm, as though every conversation is a competition to see whose wit is more biting. No one ever stops to acknowledge that someone else was funny.
“Ah well,” he said. “Perhaps they’re right. I’ll probably be less trouble here than crashing around leaving ‘obvious trails’ in the rainforest.”
“You’ve been to the rainforest?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “What was it like? Tell me everything at once.”
He glanced at the door to the lab, then bared his teeth at me in an awkward way, which turned out to be his version of a smile. “Or I could just show you.”
“That’s not funny,” I snapped. “I may be half your size, but I can still bite you.”
“I’m serious!” he protested. “I can distract the guard and take you through. No one will find out, and if they do, what are they going to do to me? Give me a worse job than this? Pretty sure there isn’t one.”
I could think of much worse punishments I’d personally witnessed — things involving lava or an extra week between rations — but I didn’t bring them up. If this crazy dragon wanted to take me to the rainforest, I wasn’t going to talk him out of it.
“Fine. We should find out who’s guarding the tunnel,” I said, striding off down the hall.
“Oh, uh — right now?” he said. “I mean, uh … yes, right now. Of course. That is when we are going. Now. Yes, that’s what I meant.”
I ignored his mumbling. I have found that all interactions work better when you only pay attention to the things that are actually said to you, instead of the things you think they’re trying to say.
“Should be Deadlyclaws today, I think,” he said, catching up to me.
“He’s quite sharp,” I said. “What’s your plan?”
“Um …” he said.
I glared at him. “You DO have a plan.”
“I do! I do. I got it. Don’t worry.”
He paced along beside me, flicking his wings and furrowing his brow. I’d never stood this close to him before, but now it struck me that he really was nearly twice my size. He was unusually burly for a starving NightWing — you could still see his ribs, but they were big ribs, attached to a big back and massive shoulders. He could probably grow to be even bigger than Morrowseer one day.
I liked that thought. I liked walking down the hall next to, essentially, a small lumbering mountain. It kind of made me feel as if I had something that would shield me from the lava if the volcano did explode all of a sudden.
We left the fortress and flew over the molten landscape in the rain. My wings were instantly soaked and chilled to the bone, but I didn’t care. We were going to the tunnel. We were going to the rainforest. I’d hovered outside the cave before, but I’d never been in. No dragonets anywhere near the secret tunne
l, that was the rule.
Did I care about breaking it? No, I did not. It was a stupid rule. One that could apply to other dragonets, but not to me. I was at least as clever and trustworthy as Mr. Fatwings over here. Besides, the nice thing about doing it this way was that he’d get in trouble, not me.
Well, so I thought, anyway.
“Uh … wait here,” he said, steering us down to the beach. My talons sank into the wet black sand and I squinted through the downpour as he flew up to the cave. A few moments later, he appeared at the entrance and waved to me.
That was weird. I hadn’t seen Deadlyclaws come out.
Turns out, that’s because Strongwings’s idea of a “distraction” was to sneak up and clonk someone over the head. Deadlyclaws was lying unconscious inside the cave, next to a small fire in front of the tunnel entrance.
I regarded him for a moment.
“He won’t wake up for a while,” Strongwings mumbled.
“I see,” I said. “Did he see you?”
“Uh,” he said. “No? I don’t think so. He was poking the fire.”
Well, it would be idiocy to waste this opportunity. I climbed over Deadlyclaws and stepped into the tunnel.
“Hang on,” Strongwings protested. “I’m taking you to the rainforest. That means I go first. Scooch over.”
I snorted a small flame at him, spread my wings, and flew into the darkness with him flapping along, grumbling, behind me.
Up and up, around and sideways, and then — the chill fell out of the air, and light shone up ahead.
I burst out into sunlight.
And warmth.
And breathing.
You can’t understand it because you grew up with all of that. Most dragons don’t spend a single moment of their lives thinking about breathing, but for NightWings, it’s an on going, horrible experience. On the volcano, you suck in particles of ash with every breath. Your lungs always feel like they’re on fire. The inside of your throat is scraped like you’ve been swallowing giant pieces of eggshell.
I guess we’re used to the smell of sulfur and rotting prey and smoke, but once you leave it — once you notice it — it’s awful to go back to.
Stepping into the rainforest was like plunging my snout into a cauldron full of plants. I was so overwhelmed by the assault on my nose that I didn’t even register what was in front of my eyes for the first few minutes.
I just breathed. And smelled. And smelled and breathed and breathed.
At last I was able to focus on Strongwings’s face, his black eyes peering into mine, a wild assault of greenery erupting behind him.
“You look enormously pleased with yourself,” I said sharply.
“I knew this would do it,” he said, tucking his wings in with a self-satisfied nod. “I’ve never ever seen you smile, but I knew if I brought you here …”
I glared at him. “Does that make you some kind of genius? I’m sure every dragon reacts the same way.”
Now my senses were adjusting and I could also hear the sounds of the rainforest: the rushing wind in the trees, the chatter of golden-furred monkeys overhead; the faraway calls of birds, the nearby river burbling contentedly to itself. I could feel the humming heat of the sun melting into my scales.
“Yes, that’s true,” Strongwings said, “but I wanted to be the one to see your face.”
I studied him suspiciously. “Why?”
“Because —” He floundered, his claws stabbing nervously at the dirt below us. “Uh. Because you’re — well, you’re just — you’re the only Fierceteeth. You know?”
That was true. I AM the only Fierceteeth. I don’t need doting parents to tell me I’m special and brilliant and ferocious. I don’t need a prophecy to make me unique and important. I am FIERCETEETH.
But it was unusual for someone else to notice.
“Hmm,” I said, taking a step closer so I could eye him up and down. He did not appear to be joking or teasing me. In general I am not a fan of sentimental sincerity — in general that is not a NightWing trait — but it turns out there are certain dragons who can pull it off.
Well, one. There is one dragon who can talk to me like that without getting bitten, or stabbed, or bitten AND stabbed.
“Want to go flying?” he asked. “And eat mangoes? And jump in a pool of water that is not cold gray sludge, or so full of salt that all your scratches burn like fire?”
I did want to do all those things. But I had never pictured doing them with Strongwings, of all dragons. I didn’t want him to think I was a dragon who would just lower all my defenses the moment I felt sunshine on my scales.
“Oh, right,” I scoffed. “As if you are fast enough to catch a mango. I’d like to see that.”
He started laughing again, although I wasn’t entirely sure why this time. Dragons who might be laughing at me usually have an unpleasant encounter with my claws before they draw their next breath. But for some reason his laughter didn’t make me want to stab him in the nose.
So we flew, and we swam, and we ate more food than I knew existed in the world, and I did not care even one tiny iota when we returned to the tunnel hours later, as the sun was slanting down through the trees, and found glowering Morrowseer and furious Deadlyclaws waiting for us.
I decided to go on the offensive before they could start yelling.
“Oh, good. I have something to say to you, you conniving, lying snake,” I snapped at Morrowseer as we landed. Strongwings jumped and sidled a step away from me, then two steps closer to me. I could feel his gaze melting along the side of my face — shocked, or anxious, or impressed; I didn’t know which and couldn’t be bothered with him right then.
“Do you know how many rules you’ve broken?” Morrowseer bellowed, ready to launch into his prepared rant. “How dare you — what did you just say to me?”
“I called you a conniving, lying snake,” I spat. “Why can’t we move here right now? Why would you keep us on that miserable island a moment longer when this is here, ready and waiting for us?” I spread my wings at the forest around me.
“Don’t question your elders,” Morrowseer fumed. “You have no idea what the risks are, or what else must be done —”
“What risks?” I shot back. “The RainWings? Are you afraid they’re going to throw bananas at you? It would probably take them months to even notice we’re here.”
This was before we discovered what RainWings could do, obviously. It wasn’t in any of the scrolls. We didn’t find out until about a year later, when a dragon called Vengeance got a demonstration all over his stupid face. (No big loss, for the record. He was hideous before the encounter with that RainWing, too.)
“It’s Queen Battlewinner’s decision,” said Morrowseer, “and she has decided we’re not ready. Would you like to take it up with her?”
That shut me up for a minute. No one had seen the queen in years, but she spoke through Morrowseer and her daughter, and in the fortress we could feel her eyes on us all the time. She knew everything, and if you were unlucky enough to catch her wrathful attention, her punishments were always swift and severe.
“And don’t forget the IceWings, you arrogant dragonet,” Deadlyclaws growled. “If we saunter in and make our home here, how long will it be before they find out where we are? We’re safe on the island, but once they find us here, they’ll swoop down to kill us all.”
“That’s right,” Morrowseer hissed. “The queen’s plan will give us the powerful ally we need to protect us in our new home. So we stick to the path of the prophecy. That’s the only way for us to do this safely.”
“And you could have jeopardized all of it,” Deadlyclaws added. “You could have been seen without even realizing it. A camouflaged RainWing could have spotted you and be reporting back to their queen right now.”
“Or what if you had been captured?” Morrowseer snarled.
“Captured by RainWings?” I rolled my eyes. “Terrifying.”
“You’ll be sorry for this,” he hissed. “I’ll
make sure you never set claws in this rainforest again, not until we move here.”
No one was going to see my despair, I told myself fiercely. Don’t let him know that it feels like your eyes are being ripped out. Don’t let him see that you care. I curled my claws into the ground as if I could root myself there, so no one could ever drag me away. Quietly I inhaled, trying to drag the scent of mangoes and moss and river rocks deep into my lungs, trying to imprint this place on my scales forever.
“But it’s my fault,” Strongwings blurted suddenly. “This was my idea, not hers.”
“Ha!” Morrowseer shot a blast of smoke out of his nostrils. “Fierceteeth has been badgering us about coming here for years. We know what she’s like. There’s no need to take the fall for her … whatever your name is.”
“I’m telling the truth,” he insisted stoutly. “I told her I’d bring her here. I knocked out Deadlyclaws — sorry about that.”
Deadlyclaws snarled at him.
“She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me,” he said. “Punish me instead.”
He was telling the truth, but he didn’t have to. I had already decided not to shove the blame onto him. And clearly Morrowseer had decided what he wanted to believe, too, based on what he already thought of me.
“So you’re suggesting we ban you from the rainforest instead?” Morrowseer said mockingly.
“Yes,” said Strongwings.
“Don’t be an idiot,” I said at the same time. “I wasn’t supposed to see this place for three more years anyway. You’re old enough to get put on hunting duty or assigned to a spy mission here. Don’t throw that away for nothing.”
“You’re not nothing,” Strongwings said with an odd catch in his voice.
And maybe his slowness had infected me for the day, too, because that’s when I finally figured it out.
The risk he’d taken wasn’t about proving his bigness or enjoying a daring trip outside the rules. For Strongwings, this was about me.
He saw me, and had seen me for a while, although I’d never noticed before.
Unlike certain other dragons, if Strongwings was given a choice, he would choose me.