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 deserve
d 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.”
“What?” Turtle cried, horrorstruck. “Anemone! You can’t do that!”
“I so absolutely can,” she said triumphantly, already sliding the skyfire back into Kinkajou’s pouch. “My magic can do anything!”
“But that’s awful! You can’t enchant someone’s feelings! Anemone, please take that spell off.”
“I don’t think I can,” Anemone said with a shrug. “Squids and sea monsters, you should be thanking me. I just did such an awesome nice thing for you.” She reached over Kinkajou and patted one of his talons, grinning. “I’m the best sister ever.”
“But I don’t want her to like me because of a spell!” Turtle felt as if he was caught in one of the rainforest’s enormous, spider-laden cobwebs. He couldn’t undo the enchantment himself — if that was even possible — or else Darkstalker would notice. But he couldn’t take the skyfire away from Kinkajou either. She needed it to be safe from Darkstalker.
“You’ll thank me later,” Anemone said confidently. “When you’re maaaaaaaaaaarried and have lots of little pink dragonets with webbed talons!”
Turtle buried his face in his claws. Poor Kinkajou. This was so wrong, so wrong.
“Who’s getting married?” said a soft, hoarse voice.
He looked up and saw colors rising slowly into the scales all across Kinkajou’s back, like the time he’d spilled five different ink bottles over his blank scroll, back when he still dreamed of being a writer. Sunrises drifted into her wings, pale peaches and yellows strengthening into glorious bands of orange and gold.
Her green eyes were open, and her head was turned, pillowed on her arms. She was looking at him.
“Hey, Turtle,” she said sleepily. “We missed you on our heroic quest.”
“I missed you, too,” he said, a lump rising in his throat.
“At least, I think it was a heroic quest,” she said. “I’m a little bit fuzzy on whether we actually succeeded.”
“You did!” he said. “You saved Winter’s brother and stopped Queen Scarlet.”
“I did?” she said. “Really? Like, how? In my sleep? Am I so amazing that I can save the world and nap at the same time?” She laughed and her gaze drifted up to the ceiling. She sat up, startled. “Whoa! This place looks exactly like the rainforest!”
“It is the rainforest,” Turtle said. “You’re home. There’s … a lot to explain.”
“Hiiiii,” Anemone said, elbowing Turtle out of the way. “I’m Princess Anemone. I don’t think we officially met at school. I’m the one who totally just saved your life.” She fluffed her wings and stretched her neck a little longer.
“Oh, wow. Thank you,” Kinkajou said earnestly. “Um — saved my life from what?”
“You got clobbered by a bad guy,” Anemone said. “You’ve been unconscious for, like, days. You might never have woken up except that Turtle begged me to heal you.” She poked Turtle’s backside meaningfully with her tail.
“What bad guy?” Kinkajou cried. “Did we clobber her back? Three moons, did I miss all the excitement AGAIN?” She flared her wings, then did a double take at one of them and jumped. “Hey! My venom splash scars are gone!”
&n
bsp; Turtle remembered the triangle of black spots that had dotted Kinkajou’s wing. He shifted uncomfortably on his talons. “I guess Anemone’s spell healed those along with your other injuries,” he said.
“SPELL?” Kinkajou yelped. “You healed me with magic? That is AMAZING!”
“I know, it really is,” said Anemone, preening.
“I did like those scars, though,” Kinkajou said a little wistfully. “They made me seem all battle-hardened and tough.”
Turtle bit back a laugh. As much as he adored her, it would never in a million years have occurred to him to use those adjectives to describe Kinkajou.
“Ah, well,” she said with a shrug. “Thanks again, Anemone. Oooo, I’d love to be an animus. Is it fun?”
“It is now,” Anemone said. “Now that I’m the one in charge of my spells and nobody’s telling me what to do all the time.”
There was a crash outside, like a tree falling not too far away. Anemone’s face brightened and she darted to the doorway.
“Don’t be scared,” Turtle said to Kinkajou quickly in a low voice. “A very big, scary-looking dragon is about to show up, but he can’t hurt you. And he can’t see me or hear me, so don’t be confused by that. I’ll explain everything when he’s gone.”
Kinkajou’s eyes were shining with excitement. “I feel like I fell asleep in one adventure and woke up in a totally different one! What is happening! This is amazing!”
“Anemone,” rumbled Darkstalker’s voice outside the pavilion. “Have you been doing more magic?”
“Just a little healing spell,” Anemone said cheerfully. “Kinkajou, come here.”
“I don’t know if you should be walking yet —” Turtle said, but Kinkajou was already bouncing off the bed.
“Whoo,” she said, wobbling on her talons for a moment. “Guess I haven’t stood up in a few days! Here we go.” She flared her wings for balance and hopped over to the opening, where Anemone was holding the flower curtain aside.