Darkstalker

  That’s an IceWing, she finally registered with a rush of panic. Here. On the shores of the Night Kingdom.

  Another blue-white dragon surfaced beside the first one. “What are you doing?” she snarled.

  “Having a snack,” he growled back.

  She glanced up and down the beach, her gaze lingering suspiciously on the dark lump of Listener and Clearsight. “Back in the water,” she snapped. “Now.”

  Grumbling under his breath, the IceWing dragged his prey into the water with him. The second IceWing scanned the beach again, then dove after him. There were a few more splashes, and then silence.

  Clearsight’s head was starting to spin. Visions crowded in, piling up on one another. She saw this same beach, but on a different night, with the moons in different positions in the sky and huddled clouds hiding most of their light. She saw a wave of pale silver IceWings slithering ashore, with more behind them, and more, and more. An entire army of IceWings, slipping into the Night Kingdom under the water and far below the noses of the NightWing sky protectors.

  They were planning an invasion. The two dragons tonight were advance scouts on a test run. The IceWings had found a way into their territory, and someday soon, the war would be here, inside the walls.

  Except it won’t, Clearsight thought. I’ll stop them.

  This is why my instincts brought me here tonight. So I could see the IceWings, have this vision, and warn the queen.

  This was it, the turning point she’d been waiting for. Her moment to serve the queen, save the tribe, and advance her family’s standing. She’d known there would be a way eventually, but she hadn’t been sure which timeline would unfold it for her first.

  And now that it had happened — now that she had to face the queen — she was terrified all the way down to her bones.

  “Are they gone?” she whispered to Listener.

  “Yes,” Listener whispered back. “I could hear them thinking grumpy thoughts about each other as they swam away.”

  Clearsight stood up gingerly. “I have to tell the queen.”

  “Better you than me,” Listener said. “I do not want to explain to my parents what I was doing out here.”

  “I can leave you out of it, if that’s what you want,” Clearsight said. Her mind was racing ahead. Who to tell first? Her parents would have to go through official channels, but Darkstalker could get her an audience with the queen tomorrow.

  Tomorrow was better. There were several possible nights ahead when the invasion might be launched, but the sooner they figured out how to stop it, the better.

  Listener started tracing shapes in the sand with one claw, staring out at the ocean. “Clearsight,” she said hesitantly. “Listen, I — I know I told you I don’t want to know the future. But if — if I ever have to evacuate my family — I mean, if it’s a question of saving their lives … if something really, really bad is about to happen … then I guess I do want you to tell me.”

  “It’s not that bad yet,” Clearsight said, wrapping one wing around her friend. “But I promise I will, if I’m ever worried.”

  It won’t come to that, she reassured herself. We’ll stop them. I’ll save the whole tribe.

  She was sure she could do that. The queen would listen to her, and the IceWing invasion would be taken care of without one more serrated white claw setting foot on their shores.

  So why, then, were ominous visions still spinning behind her eyes?

  Visions of NightWings flying away in droves, as though the entire tribe were fleeing some horrific danger?

  Clearsight wasn’t sure … but she had a terrible, sinking feeling that tonight, some dark future had become a little bit more real.

  Fathom had been given his own suite of rooms in the Night Palace, which he was sure he would appreciate very much if he could ever find them again.

  “This hallway looks familiar,” he said, hesitating at another intersection.

  “Black marble walls and mirrors every three steps?” Indigo said. “You’re right. Because that’s what every hallway in this castle looks like.”

  “The mirror thing is weird, isn’t it?” he whispered. “I’m not the only one who thinks so?”

  “NightWings are very pretty and very special,” she informed him. “They deserve to be reminded of that all the time, everywhere they go.”

  He laughed. They were lucky there weren’t any NightWings around to hear them. “Pearl would probably love it, too.”

  “Well, she can decorate the Summer Palace with as many mirrors as she wants,” Indigo said. She started down the new hallway and he hurried to catch up with her.

  “The Summer Palace?” he echoed. “I thought she wanted nothing to do with that place.”

  “She’s changed her mind — you didn’t hear?” Indigo glanced over, then down at her claws as though she’d just remembered that no one talked to him. “Everyone thinks the Island Palace is haunted. She can’t keep any servants there, and most of the dragons who were at the — the party never want to go there again. So she’s moving all surface palace business to the Summer Palace and abandoning the Island Palace.”

  “Oh.” Fathom blinked. It made sense. He himself had trouble walking through the Island Palace without remembering bloody talonprints everywhere. The smell of jasmine sometimes made him sick to his stomach, and he never wanted to see a red hibiscus again as long as he lived.

  But still — that had been the SeaWings’ above-water palace for generations. Was it gone forever now?

  A black dragon carrying a tray came out of a door a few steps ahead of them.

  “Excuse me,” Indigo called. “We’re looking for the guest suites.”

  “I can take you there,” he said with a bow. “This way.”

  As they followed him, Fathom watched Indigo out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t imagining it — she changed completely when there were other dragons around. She squared her shoulders and stood up taller; her voice went deeper and more commanding. The spear in her talons was suddenly a weapon rather than a prop. She really looked like she was ready to kill someone to protect him. Like a true bodyguard.

  That should make it easier for him to keep her at a distance, if he could remember to think of her that way. Just a guard. Not the most important dragon in my life.

  “Here you are,” said the NightWing servant, gesturing with his tail at a large black door that looked very much like all the other doors they’d passed. “The guest suite for visiting SeaWings.”

  “Thank you,” Fathom said. “Um. When is breakfast?”

  The black dragon snorted a laugh. “Around midday,” he said. “NightWings never wake up before then, unless the queen rises early and commands our attendance. Usually we stay awake all night and go to sleep at sunrise.”

  “Oh,” Fathom said, shivering at the strangeness of this kingdom.

  The NightWing paused for a moment, looking Fathom up and down as though he were expecting to see something magic happen. Evidently disappointed, he bowed again and whisked away.

  “This tribe is weird,” Indigo observed, shaking her head.

  The door opened into a dark antechamber, where droning snores announced that Wharf and Lionfish were fast asleep. Indigo frowned and stepped toward them, but Fathom stopped her with an outstretched wing.

  “Let them sleep,” he whispered. “It was a long flight here.”

  “They’re supposed to wake up when someone comes through here,” she whispered back. “Like for instance someone planning to attack you. That’s kind of their whole job.”

  “And they already hate it,” he observed, heading toward the inner chamber. “We don’t need to make it worse by waking them up to yell at them on their first night here.”

  They slipped through into the next room and closed the door on the snoring. In here, where Fathom was supposed to sleep, the only sounds were the splash of a fountain in the corner and the rush of wind outside on the balcony. Several small candles were set around the room, flickering the
ir orange light against the darkness.

  He realized that this was the first time he’d been alone with Indigo since … since the massacre.

  “I’ll have to yell at them tomorrow, though,” Indigo said, looking unexcited about that prospect. “I wonder if they even bothered to search this room.” She shook out her wings and snapped into bodyguard mode again, poking her spear into all the corners and lifting all the rugs.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Fathom said quietly. “I know I’m the real danger here.” He caught one of the billowing curtains and tied it down, avoiding her eyes.

  “Is that what you think?” she said. She stopped, only a few steps away from him. “Do you think I’m here to save other dragons from you?”

  “You should be,” he said. He held out his front talons, watching the candlelight glow through the webs between his claws. “These are dangerous.”

  “Not to me.” Indigo suddenly gathered his talons between hers and stepped closer, holding them near her heart. “Fathom, not to me.”

  The curtains rippled in the breeze, reaching for them with long soft tendrils. He was close enough to feel her breath on his scales. He wanted to dive into her eyes and catch the tiny flames reflected there. He wanted to tell her how much he had missed her.

  “Especially to you,” he said. “You shouldn’t have come here with me.” He tore himself out of her grasp and turned away, blinking back tears.

  “I thought … I thought it was Pearl who was keeping us apart,” Indigo said. “She said it was your idea, but I didn’t believe her.”

  “She’s right, though,” Fathom said. “You make me more dangerous. No matter how many oaths I swear, there’s always you — the one dragon who could make me use my power again. Don’t you understand that?”

  There was a long pause. Finally he rubbed his eyes and turned to look at her.

  Indigo had her wings folded back and was studying him seriously. He’d seen this thoughtful face on her before, whenever they’d been asked to debate two sides of an issue in history class. The way she listens. The way she really thinks. Two more things about her he’d forgotten he missed so much.

  “You’re not Albatross,” she said.

  “But I might be,” he said.

  “I’m not leaving you,” she said. “Do you want me to leave you?”

  Say yes. Say yes immediately so she’ll believe you and she’ll have to go.

  But nothing came out. The words were caught in his throat, swallowed by the dark room and the nearness of her, after missing her for so long.

  A moment passed, and she stepped toward him again, reaching to brush one of his wings with hers. He forgot to breathe.

  “I trust you not to use your power,” she said softly. “I’m not afraid of you. I believe we’re safer together, and I think I can protect you from Darkstalker. So I’m not leaving.”

  Fathom fought with himself, knowing what he should say, knowing he should push her away and send her home. That normal, happy life was waiting for her back there.

  “I should go to sleep,” he said finally instead.

  “Yes,” she said, making her “bodyguard face” again. “I’m going to sleep here, at the balcony door, to make sure no one tries to come in this way.”

  “All right,” Fathom said. He was torn between relief — he didn’t want to sleep in this big unfamiliar room alone — and anger at himself. Why are you letting her stay? Don’t you care about her?

  Indigo lay down in the open archway that led to the balcony and coiled her tail around her talons. In the moonlight, she was a solemn silhouette, quiet as the depths of the ocean.

  Fathom dragged a pile of blue-green pillows over to a spot near the fountain and punched them around for a long time before finally settling down on top of them.

  “Well done,” Indigo called sleepily. “Those pillows will never question your authority again.”

  He smothered his laugh. He didn’t want her to think that everything was fine, that they could be friends again the way they were before. If she had to stay, the only way this would work was if he kept her at a distance.

  I mustn’t let the NightWings know she’s important to me, he realized. That could put her in danger, too.

  Worries tumbled around in his head as he drifted into sleep. Is it safe to like Darkstalker? What does Queen Vigilance expect from me? Are Wharf and Lionfish spying on me and Indigo and reporting back to Pearl?

  What’s going to happen to us now?

  The night was starting to fade toward morning when Darkstalker got home from the palace. He’d swooped by Clearsight’s on the way, to see if he could find her, but her parents said she was out with Listener, which left him feeling sort of disgruntled and abandoned.

  Arctic and Foeslayer were already asleep, or at least quiet behind the door of their room, having left the party much earlier than he had. Darkstalker stepped softly past his sister’s room and unlocked his door.

  He didn’t like this time of day. When the birds started chirping and the sky began fading to purplish gray, that meant it was almost time to sleep. He wished he never had to sleep. He had so much to do, so much he wanted to get done. Not only did sleeping feel like a waste of time, but it also gave him an itching restless feeling of missing things — like something important might happen without him there to affect it.

  Carefully he tucked his earring into his jewelry box and unclasped the tail band. For a moment he stood holding it, tracing the embossed silver scales. Tonight, this had been his only protection against a possible killer. If Indigo had moved faster — if she hadn’t stopped to discuss her plan with Fathom — could she have killed him?

  He wouldn’t even have been able to use his power to heal himself. It was all here, hidden inside his scroll. He could have bled to death, completely helpless — he, Darkstalker, the most powerful dragon in the world!

  He took a deep breath. Indigo’s attack must have rattled him more than he realized. So do something about it, he told himself. He was good at solving problems. Here was a problem: how could he use his magic to defend himself if he didn’t have his scroll with him?

  Darkstalker extended his talons and studied them, then ran his claws lightly over his throat. Another piece of jewelry? But jewelry could be removed, or fly off during a fight, and wouldn’t it be suspicious if he wore the same thing every day anyway?

  Perhaps he could embed a jewel into his body somewhere. He’d seen dragons with small diamonds buried between their scales. Or something in his teeth — there had been a SandWing envoy at the palace once with two gold teeth.

  He touched his neck again. No, nothing removable. He needed something that could always be a part of him. Indigo was a smart dragon; she already suspected him of enchanting his jewels. She might be able to spot anything else he added and figure out what it did.

  What if …

  Could he enchant his actual scales?

  Why not?

  He swept his claws down his side, suddenly feeling hyperaware of all the ways he could be stabbed or sliced or burned or frozen. The more dragons knew about his power, the more danger he would be in. And he didn’t want to leave the world before accomplishing everything he could see in his shining future.

  Darkstalker hurried to the wall and the painting that was enchanted to hide and protect his scroll. He took the scroll out carefully, rolled it to the next blank spot … and then paused.

  Clearsight.

  She always read the new spells in his scroll. She liked to discuss them with him and come up with new ideas. Usually she said the right admiring things.

  But what would she think of this?

  A quiet warning was starting to chime at the back of his mind. He could sense an argument in their close future — the kind where she got judgmental and anxious and made him question all his decisions. The kind of argument he hated.

  And perhaps he could avoid it. Wouldn’t that make them both happier?

  He rolled the scroll backward, scanning t
he spells he’d already cast.

  Here, near the beginning — there was space for him to write a new spell between the lines of the others. With luck Clearsight wouldn’t go back and reread these; maybe she’d never notice it. And if she never noticed it, she couldn’t question him about it.

  It was a makeshift solution, but it would do for now. He’d come up with a better way to hide his secret spells later.

  He dipped his claw in the green ink and wrote:

  Enchant Darkstalker’s scales to be invulnerable to harm of any sort, to heal instantly if injured, and to shield him indestructibly from any threat of death.

  That was a little dramatic, but he liked the sound of it. Maybe he should go a step further and cast a spell that would make him immortal. That was something to think about. Imagine everything he could do for Pyrrhia if he could live forever!

  First, though, he should test this spell, since it was pretty unusual. He went to his trunk and dug under the extra blankets until he found one of his daggers — long, wickedly curved, with a gleaming sharp edge.

  Deep breath. Nothing to be afraid of. (Ever again, if this worked.)

  He set the blade against the skin of his shoulder and slid it firmly toward his neck.

  It was like trying to cut diamonds. His scales repelled the knife smoothly, beautifully, with no fuss at all.

  Darkstalker tried stabbing himself in a few other spots, his excitement mounting. The dagger bounced right off him, unable to draw blood.

  He’d done it. He’d made himself invincible.

  Don’t get too cocky yet. Make sure you think of what else someone could do to you, and find ways to protect yourself from everything. Poison, for instance. Poison didn’t seem like Indigo’s style, but someone else might try it one day.

  For now, though, he could take a moment to be proud of himself. I wonder if any other animus has ever thought of enchanting their own scales.

  I suspect I’m the only one who’s ever come up with something like my scroll. See, I was obviously given these powers for a reason. I can use them more wisely than any other dragon before me. I just have to be careful and smart, that’s all.