Way

After leaving the Mud Kingdom, we went north, through the empty expanse of the desert.

I didn't like that part much. It felt too strange to remember how Shadowhunter and I once made our way through that place. It feels like a lifetime ago.

I wonder if I'll ever see her again.

Now, the forests of the Sky Kingdom tower over us. We make our way up along the coast, avoiding towns and cities as best we can.

"It's imperative no one sees us," Indigo reminds us for the millionth time that morning, as we stare out at the gloomy weather from inside our beachside cave.

Precocious and I exchange a glance. I fight back laughter. It's not funny, but it is.

"These soldiers are ruthless," she repeats.

"And they'll capture you without hesitation," Precocious finishes. "They already hold a grudge against both of our tribes. So stay hidden, and don't cross anyone."

Ripple giggles.

Indigo sighs, picking up our bags from the floor of the cave. "Yep, that's about it. Come on–let's go."

"I don't wanna," Cowrie whines. The dragonets' vocabulary has been expanding rapidly. I still can't believe how fast they're growing up.

Indigo sighs. "I swear, they learned to whine from you two," she says, shooting a look at Precocious and I.

"Dear," Fathom scolds.

"What? It's true. Come on, you lot–it's just a bit of rain, Cowrie. It won't kill you."

***

Over the wind, it's too loud to talk much anyway. So we fly in silence for a couple of hours. I stare out at the churning waves across the sea and shudder.

The dragonets start to complain after a while, and we land for a short break. I can tell it drives Indigo crazy to stop so often.

"This place reminds me of home," Precocious says.

I consider the gravel beaches, disrupted by the occasional sharp, black rock jutting out into the sea. The large maple trees leaning over the beach, their soggy orange-red leaves plastered to the rocks.

"It looks like the scary stories they tell dragonets, so they don't try to fly out across the sea." I wrap my wings around myself, shivering. What I wouldn't give to be back in the Mud Kingdom, warm and dry.

Precocious laughs. "Oh yeah. I remember those."

"Mama, I'm cold," Ripple complains.

"Mama, I'm wet," Clearpool grumbles.

"I know you are, but there's not much I can do about that. All right, team," Indigo says, clapping her talons together. "We leave in ten minutes. We've got a schedule to keep."

She glances down at the edge of the shore, where Fathom walks with Cowrie. The fog is so thick, they're hardly more than silhouettes against the water.

"Fathom, did you hear that?" she shouts.

He doesn't reply.

Is it one silhouette, or two?

"Fathom, did you hear me?" Indigo shouts. She sighs heavily,  rubbing her eyes. "One of you two–can you run over and tell him?"

"I can do it," Precocious offers.

"We'll go together," I say.

Indigo nods. "I don't care. Just get him back here. I don't like being so exposed."

Precocious and I trudge through the rocks–some of them slick with algae. He slips, and I gasp, throwing myself in front of him–not that it helps. I send him sliding further down the rocks, and end up lying on my back, wheezing.

"What was that?" Precocious asks. He picks himself up off the ground, helping me up.

"I thought I could catch you."

We exchange a small smile. And then, we hear it: the blood-curdling scream of a dragonet.

Suddenly, we're not laughing.

"What do we do?" I whisper.

Wide-eyed, Precocious looks around us, as though waiting for a SkyWing soldier to jump out from the fog and attack us too.

"I–I don't know."

"Fathom? Way? Precocious?" Indigo shouts. I can hear her talons sliding against the gravel as she races toward us. "What's going on?"

She bursts through the fog, slipping on the rocks as she barrels toward us. I grimace as she picks herself up off the slippery ground. Blood drips onto the black rocks.

She curses. "There you are."

"Are you okay?" Precocious asks.

She scoffs. "I'm fine. Where's Fathom? What's happening to the dragonets?" 

"We don't know where Fathom is," Precocious admits.

Indigo squints through the fog.

"Stay behind me. Don't be heroes."

So we stay close behind her as she proceeds down the beach.

Suddenly, she turns. I don't hear it for a moment–can't figure out what's scaring her.

Then, a gust of wind blows over us, scattering the fog. We're surrounded by SkyWing soldiers.

Indigo snarls. "What did you do to my dragonets?"

Their spears are pointed at us. I realize that we're not getting out of this with our freedom intact.

"You're under arrest for trespassing. Don't you know, we don't take kindly to intruders?"

"We mean you no harm," Precocious says.

"Quiet!" the soldier barks. "You have two options. You can come willingly. Or you can try to fight this."

Indigo growls, reading herself for a fight.

"If I were you, I know which choice I'd make."

"Indigo," I say, meeting her eyes, "The dragonets."

As soon as I say it, she seems to deflate. Even if she makes it out of this, Ripple and Clearpool are still a few paces down the beach, surely captured, as are Fathom and Cowrie.

We surrender willingly.

***

The dragonets travel with us, irritating our captors to no end. But when we reach the Sky Kingdom, they're taken away.

"What did you do to my dragonets?" Indigo growls.

"They'll be taken to the orphanage," one of the soldiers says, perhaps with a slight tinge of pity.

As for us, our captors bind our wings and put us on pillars that stand at least fifty feet tall. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to look down.

We debate what they might be doing with the dragonets for a while, getting nowhere fast.

Precocious is silent. The fog is thick and cold up here, the moisture clinging to my body. I shiver; wishing desperately for a fire, or a blanket.

The rain is so cold it's almost snow. I'm dizzy with each stinging breath I take in.

I'm going to die here.

I lie down, letting my eyes close. Letting the despair sink into my soul.

"Hey!" Precocious cries.

"What?"

"I–I think–"

In the dim light, talons scrabble on rock, then wind rushes beneath wings.

"Oh my gosh! Way, I just got out!"

I blink, trying to process what he's saying.

"What–what did you–what?"

His wings free, Precocious hops over to my pillar. With the two of us, the platform feels even more cramped. I barely allow myself to breathe, for fear of plunging to an early demise.

"Hang on, I've almost got it," Precocious mumbles as he messes with the metal bindings.

I resist the urge to shift and see what he's doing.

"Any luck?" Indigo shouts. She's perched at the edge of her platform, squinting–but the distance is too far to discern.

"Just give me a second," Precocious shouts back. He tries to shift the metal bindings on my wings, and I yelp.

"Sorry."

I wince. "It's fine."

"Okay, I think I've loosened them up," Precocious says. "Try to move your wing."

I do as he says. A moment later, two metal bindings fall off of me. I shake them off, stretching out my sore muscles.

"How did you do that?" I ask.

"They're loose on both of us–our wings are too small. These are designed for adults."

"You're free?" Indigo shouts.

"We're free!" Precocious shouts back.

I wince at how easily the sound carries. But we're up so high, and the wind is so furious that I doubt anyone will be able to hear us on the ground. Besides, there don't seem to be many guards in this prison. Which makes sense, given that the only way to escape is to plummet to your death.

I stretch out my stiff wings, glancing at Precocious.

"Get over here!" Indigo shouts.

Precocious takes off of my pillar without a second thought. I look down over the edge, feeling like I'm going to be sick–then I spring into flight, following after him.

We hover in the air by Indigo's platform. There's not enough room for all of us to stand there, and I'm too scared of knocking her off to land.

"Is there any way you can get me out?" Indigo asks. She turns so Precocious can see her wings.

He lands on her platform, trying to make the clips on her wings budge.

"They're really tight, Indigo," he says. Indigo strains against the metal with all her might.

She growls with frustration.

"If we had a source of heat, we might be able to do it–but I can't do that without burning you."

"Right," she mutters. "Okay. What about Fathom?"

Precocious flies over to his platform and concludes the same thing. "I'm sorry–they're just too tight."

Indigo sighs wearily, rubbing her eyes. "Okay. So it's you two, then."

"We can find the orphanage and rescue the dragonets without you guys," Precocious says.

I look at him. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Well, we can't exactly run away," Precocious says.

"Precocious, Way is right," Fathom says. "You have no idea how dangerous that is."

"They wouldn't kill us. We're dragonets."

Fathom hesitates. "Maybe you're right—but—the SkyWings have a reputation for being ruthless. They don't tolerate infractions to their laws lightly."

Precocious takes a deep breath. I can tell he's barely managing to conceal his frustration. "What's the other option? Leave you to die?"

Fathom closes his eyes. Softly, he says, "You're dragonets. I will not have you get hurt on our watch."

Precocious rolls his eyes.

"I'm not leaving."

After a moment of silence, Fathom says, "It's been a long time, but I learned about SkyWing culture when I was your age."

"That's not going to help us get out of here," Precocious mutters.

"No, listen to me—in their mythology, the first queen in their current dynasty was a dragon named... oh, what was her name..."

"Zephyr," Indigo supplies.

"Zephyr. Thank you. I think the story goes that before there was only a small town here, in the capital city. Zephyr was seen as an enemy, since she showed up out of nowhere, and the guards threw her in prison. I think this was happening during a civil war." Fathom furrows his brow, remembering. "They kept her up on these spires night after night."

"Dear, where are you going with this?"

"Just listen. After a week of confinement, she broke free of her chains, and walked into the palace. She couldn't be kept prisoner. She freed a bunch of other dragons who were imprisoned due to the civil war–and then she declared herself queen of the two warring territories, uniting the Sky Kingdom. And then, after her daughter came along, she disappeared–just flew off into the mountains one day, and never came back. In the myth, she's supposed to come back again someday in the body of someone new."

Suddenly it dawns on Indigo, a second before it dawns on me.

"Oh, three moons," she says. "It can be Precocious."

I look between the two of them.

I want to scream. Haven't we had enough lies to last a lifetime?

Precocious looks at me, and I wonder if he's thinking the same thing.

"It's perfect," Indigo repeats. "It can be Precocious. If Zephyr was an enemy of the tribe who imprisoned her the first time, then what's to say she couldn't come back as a NightWing?"

"Precocious, we'll only do it if you're comfortable with it," Fathom says.

Precocious just looks over at me.

How can I say no? When the alternative is losing Cowrie and Clearpool and Ripple, and never getting out of here?

We have to do it.

There's no other way.

"If he's Zephyr, who am I?" I ask.

Fathom glances at Indigo. "Do you remember more of that myth?"

Indigo sighs. "I think Zephyr had a companion with her, when she came to the Sky Kingdom–that friend was slaughtered soon after they were captured."

I shudder. I know where this is going: I'm more than used to playing the supporting role.

"That's the best I can think of. I know it's not perfect–"

"No, no," Precocious says. "This is great. This is going to work."

He meets my eyes, wide-eyed and desperate. "You'll do it, right?"

"Help you pretend to be a god?" I sigh. "Yeah. Absolutely."

Precocious's mind is spinning into overdrive as he maps out the plan to get Fathom and Indigo's dragonets to safety.

I can tell Fathom and Indigo aren't wild about this idea, but they don't argue either. They lecture us anxiously about how to keep ourselves safe, and what to do if this goes sideways.

And how it's probably, definitely going to go sideways.

"Precocious–keep it simple. Don't let this spiral out of hand like the last time," Fathom warns. He sighs. "I'm sorry. Both of you. I wish we didn't have to ask this of you."

By this point, the sky is starting to clear a little bit, and the dawn is peaking through the ominous grey clouds. It's lovely, though it doesn't help at all with the ever-present chill.

"Be safe," Indigo adds.

For her sake, I say, "We will be."

"Way," Precocious says as we fly toward the tower where the guards seem to congregate.

"Just promise you won't leave me," I say.

It's the smallest of requests, but it feels monumental as the words hover between us.

Precocious looks over at me. He smiles, in spite of everything. "Come on, Way. I'd never leave you."

The words feel electric, shivering down my spine.

"I don't even know what I'm doing without you," he admits.

It's such a small thing, but somehow, the words mean everything to me. I want to bundle them up in cloth and bury them beneath floorboards, to find when I'm old. I want to trap them like a butterfly in a jar.

"Me neither," I admit. "How on earth are we going to pull this off?" I ask Precocious.

My heart is starting to race. I can't handle this, not all at once.

Precocious rests his talon on my shoulder. "Hey," he says softly. "Take a breath. Come on. With me."

He takes in a breath, ever so slowly.

I mimic him, barely fighting off tears.

"Okay," Precocious says. "I distract the guards, you get the keys to Fathom and Indigo and set them free. We just need to find the orphanage. Then we sneak into the orphanage while everyone is sleeping. Get the dragonets."

I think it through for a moment. It's wildly optimistic, equal parts brilliant and foolish.

It's just such a Precocious idea to propose.

But what better ideas do we have?

"Okay," I say, wiping away my tears. "What do we have left to lose?"

***

Precocious knocks furiously at the door of the little watchtower, with its massive windows overlooking the prisoners. It's illuminated by candlelight in the late-autumn darkness.

I hover in the air, enough of a distance away I should be invisible.

The door creaks open, and a SkyWing steps out, squinting into the night. I beat my wings as softly as possible, hoping that the sound will be muffled by the wind and rain.

"NightWing!" The guard shouts.

"You should treat your very first queen with more respect," Precocious says. "I may not look it, but I am Queen Zephyr."

They both just look at him for a moment, stunned.

"You can't–no, no, there's just no way–a NightWing?"

"I came here as a prisoner and I will leave only when my message has been heard by my dragons. Including you. In my first life, I came to you disguised as your enemy. In this life, I will do the same. I came here to teach you the lessons you clearly did not learn in my first life, and I have chosen you as my first disciples."

How does he do it? It's the perfect touch–firm enough to get his point across, but not so hostile as to be terrifying.

"Why are you here?" a second guard asks.

"Because this kingdom needs me. You may not be able to see it, but your tribe is at a crossroads, and I want to make sure that you are steered in the right direction."

"No, I meant–we're just lowly guards. What could someone like you ever want with dragons like us?"

Precocious sighs, with the wisdom of someone many years his senior.

"Come. Fly with me. There's much that we need to discuss."

Please, please just go along with it.

I whisper the words to myself as I listen closely.

"We can't just abandon our posts," the first guard says. A little more suspicious than the second guard, but at least entertaining the possibility of this being real.

"You won't be. I'll ensure nothing bad happens while we are gone."

I hesitate, wishing I could see the two SkyWings' faces clearly.

"Come on. It'll be fine. We haven't had any prisoners escape in over a decade. It'll be fine."

As soon as Precocious has flown off with the guards, I slip in through the door–which Precocious made sure was left just a touch open, the lock not quite making contact. Thank you, I wish I could say to him.

I root through the drawers filled up with keys and shackles, organized in a system I don't have time to decipher. I try my best not to make it look like anything has been disturbed, but I'm in such a rush that it's hard. I think of all the stories I've heard about the SkyWings' lack of qualms with executing even dragonets over minor crimes.

Fathom and Indigo are on towers 56 and 57. In the small drawers, I find two keys marked with each number.

I clutch them tight, wishing we'd planned this out better–left a spare key we could put in place of the stolen ones, so no one might notice at first glance. But there's no time.

This is the best we can do. We'll just have to deal with the consequences later.

I slip out the door right as I start to hear wingbeats approaching, and I fly into the night, toward the prison towers.

I can feel the other prisoners watching me. Maybe it's just my imagination. They're going to know something is up, right?

At least I have the cover of darkness to help me.

I search for Indigo's soft purple silhouette in the darkness, amid the sea of prisoners. This high up, the wind is brutal, and the small drops of mist chill me to the bone. I can hardly feel my talons.

"Indigo?"

I'm met with only silence and the whistling wind for a moment. Maybe my voice is just too quiet.

Then she calls back, "Way!"

I fly toward her voice, almost crash-landing into the stone platform. "I have the key to your restraints," I say. "Precocious distracted the guards, I grabbed the keys."

I fumble with the lock, setting her free.

I think, I actually did it.

For a moment, I feel almost like a hero in a story.

***

Though we tried to wait as long as we could, Precocious never came back. So we fly to a nearby mountain, hidden from view of the guards. The wind is even colder up here; chilling me to the bone.

How is Precocious ever going to find us?

"We need to split up," Fathom says. "I'll go with him. You stay here, Indigo, and wait for Precocious."

Indigo scoffs. "I can't just sit here waiting."

"Someone needs to protect the dragonets."

"Someone needs to protect you. You can't fight to save your life," Indigo says gently.

"Hey!"

"You know it's true."

Their eyes meet for a moment, words unspoken passing between them.

"Fathom," she says. "Just the two of you? Seriously?"

"Indigo," he says. "I have a feeling Precocious might need a lot more help than we do."

"You don't even know where the orphanage is."

He meets her eyes, smiling just a little. "Well then, I guess it's a good thing we're travelling at night. It's a storm–no one will be out. I'll see you in the morning, dear."

She crushes both of us in her wings.

"Be safe," she says. I could swear I hear her voice grow thick.

***

Fathom and I walk through the city, alone. The streets are deserted, everyone driven inside from the torrential downpour and ferocious winds. Candlelight shines out from windows onto the dimly lit avenues.

It seems as if we've found a residential area, in the edges of the city. It's sleepy and lovely, and it doesn't seem like the kind of place they would put an orphanage at all.

Mom and Dad took Shadowhunter here when she was little, didn't they?

I can only half-remember the story. When Mom spoke of it, her voice was clouded with regret. Wasn't that the time they hurt Shadowhunter? Or did they just try to?

I wish they were here with me. I wonder if they would know how to find our destination.

The palace looms in the distance, its ominous spires cloaked with fog.

"These buildings all look newer, don't they?" I say to Fathom.

He looks around for a moment, then nods. "They do, now you say so."

"Wouldn't the orphanage be closer to the palace–the older core of the city?"

He thinks for a moment, then nods, a smile cracking across his face. "Way. You're brilliant."

Heat rushes to my face. I laugh. "I mean, it's just a thought–"

Before I can be any more bashful, we take off into the air, scanning the sky for any larger buildings. It's so cloudy, we can hardly see a thing. We come down to land on the rooftop of one of the houses, trying to come down softly so as not to wake the owners.

"Look," I say, pointing at one building in particular–built from brick, a few stories taller than the ones surrounding it. Close to the palace, but not too close.

It isn't the orphanage, though–just a particularly old, spooky house. From atop its roof, we squint out at the city, starting to lose patience. We spend what feels like hours flying aimlessly through the oldest quarter of the city.

Standing in the street, well past midnight, Fathom holds his wing out, trying to shelter me from the rain. It doesn't really work, but it's a sweet gesture.

"How are you holding up?" he asks, like he already half-knows the answer.

I look away. "I'm–fine."

"I know you hate it when Precocious does this. His lies, I mean."

"I'm... not a fan," I admit, grimacing. "But it's fine. This is the last time. It's for all of us. I'll be happy if he just makes it out of this alive."

I can tell he feels guilty, without needing to say the words aloud.

"You still like him, don't you?"

"So much," I admit. "Is there something wrong with me?"

Fathom laughs. "No, Way. You're just young."

"You say that like it means I'm stupid."

"It's a good thing." He takes my talon in his, giving it a squeeze. "It's going to be fine, Way. I know when you're this age, it feels like the world is going to end because of things like this. But you'll work things out. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be. And if it's not, then you will always have yourself at the end of it. No one can take that away from you."

Heat rushes to my face.

And then, right as I'm starting to give up, I look down the street. The block ends at a short, squat building, the lights all snuffed out.

"What about there?" I ask, pointing.

I can tell Fathom is this close to breaking as he squints into the dark. But he takes a step closer, perhaps just to humour me.

As we step closer, the sign at its front comes into view: Orphanage.

I hold my anxiety close to my chest, the pressure building up tighter and tighter as we approach it.

"How are we going to do this?" Fathom asks as we stand outside the building.

No matter what, you will always have yourself at the end of it. No one can take that away from you.

Before he can protest, I say, "I'll go in. I'm smaller. I can blend into the shadows, you can't."

I don't know why I say it.

When did I get so brave?

***

I cling to the edge of the building, digging my claws into the wet stone blocks. This building is old and weathered; it's stood the test of time for hundreds of years.

As I scramble for purchase on the window-ledge, the wooden frame breaks off. I quickly right myself as it falls to the ground.

Breathe.

You can do this, Way.

I push open the window just a crack wider. It screams in protest, refusing to budge more than an inch.

I heave myself up, holding in my breath as I squeeze through it. As I slip through the window, a furious gust of wind slams against the building's battered roof.

I crash into a cold, damp room that seems empty at first glance.

I pick myself up off the ground, looking around.

Okay. Where am I?

I notice the cleaning supplies knocked to the floor, and the dust covering every surface.

Some kind of storage closet.

I creep forward, trying not to trigger any squeaking floorboards.

I step out of the closet, after checking the coast is clear. The lanterns on the hallway are unlit. This floor feels eerie; almost abandoned.

I hold my breath as I glimpse a flickering light up ahead, visible through a half-open crack in the door.

I creep past slowly, not daring to even breathe. I press myself against the shadows.

"Ruby, is that you?" an old, tired voice says.

I don't say a word, my heart racing as I slip down the hall and down the staircase. Just then, a gust of wind slams into the side of the house, conveniently muffling the sound of squeaky boards.

Light flickers on the first floor, and a dragonet whines.

"I want Mama," I hear a familiar, squeaky voice say.

Ripple.

"Mama said she would always keep us safe," Ripple murmurs.

I don't have to imagine how this must feel: though not in the same manner, I was taken from my family too as a dragonet. I remember how the trust shatters. How doubt seeps in the cracks.

I lock eyes with a small dragonet, staring forlornly out the window.

"Way!" Ripple says, lighting up. His little voice carries further than I'd like it to.

"Ripple, shh," I say. "I'm here to get you out. Your dad is waiting just outside. It's all going to be okay. We just need to find your siblings."

Ripple looks up at me, eyes welling with tears. Then, without warning, he throws his wings around me, starting to cry.

My heart skips. I pat his little head, trying not to panic. "Hey, there, little buddy... it's okay..."

"They took Cowrie and Clearpool," Ripple wails, except the words blend together, sloppily enunciated by someone who's still getting a grip on language. It takes me a moment to infer what he's saying from context.

"I know," I say. "I know you're upset, but—"

I can't help but remember how Allknowing used to speak to me: she'd make everything into a game. It was part of what about her was just so enchanting.

Though it's horrible, I think the technique will work.

"We're gonna play a game. Do you want to play a game?"

Ripple sniffles, then nods.

"The game is like hide and seek. We're gonna find your brother and sister, and whoever can be the quietest wins  okay?"

The dragonet looks at me with big, wobbly eyes.

"Can you do that?"

He nods.

"Okay," I say, giving his little, soft talon a squeeze. "Where did you last see your siblings?"

Ripple gestures through the door.

I follow him into the room, the door squeaking as I step inside.

I find myself staring at a room full of wide-eyed dragonets,  far too many of whom are wide-awake.

Ripple looks at me, concerned, and I force a smile. If he panics, it's only going to get worse.

"Hey everyone," I say in a whisper. "I'm–I'm–"

"Are you The Darkstalker?" One of the dragonets asks in horror.

I hesitate. "No, I'm... I'm... a ghost."

Gasps echo through the room. I realize this may not have been the best thing to say.

"But I'm a super friendly ghost, as long as you guys stay quiet," I say, trying to smile. "I'm here to find... two very special dragonets."

I search the rows of little bunks where the dragonets are perched, dragging Ripple behind me.

The dragonets all stare at me, as if they're scared to move without my say-so.

Then my eyes lock on Cowrie and Clearpool, fast asleep, sharing a little bunk that's flush against the wall.

I gently shake them awake, gesturing again to Ripple to keep quiet.

"Hey you two," I say. "It's Way. I'm taking you back to your parents, okay?"

I hear the creak of steps, coming down the stairs.

I gently lift the two dragonets out of their beds before they know what's happening. I can see a small light coming closer–someone about to enter the orphanage and haul me off to prison for the second time today.

I lunge for one of the windows, quickly unlatching it. "Get on my back, you three," I say. Stunned, Clearpool and Cowrie stare at me. Ripple shakes the two of them, gesturing toward me. Hesitantly, they pile onto me, clinging on a little too tight with their sharp claws. I brace myself against the window-frame, and take off into the night.

***

I find Fathom waiting a few blocks away. All the terror of the last few hours is immediately worth it when I see his face, lighting up at the sight of the dragonets.

I land a little rough on the empty street, my talons skidding. I bend down so the dragonets can climb off of me. They immediately run toward their dad, who wraps them up in waiting wings.

"Did they hurt you?" Fathom asks. "Are you okay?"

"We were super brave," Clearpool says, enunciating the words a little clumsily. I can't help but smile.

I look at Fathom's face. I wonder what it would feel like, to love someone that much.

I look away, suddenly missing my parents more than I'd like to admit.

"You were so brave," Fathom says, closing his eyes. "You were far braver than you should have had to be."

He looks up for a second, and somehow I know he means to say it to me too.

I wipe the tears from my eyes.

***

We find Indigo, waiting where she'd said she'd be on the mountains. She's pacing anxiously. When she sees us, she's barely able to restrain herself from taking off into the sky.

Fathom rushes toward Indigo, telling her all the details of the dragonets. But I'm much more preoccupied with the face that's staring out at me through the shadows.

Precocious.

Before I can think, I'm crushing him in a hug.

"You scared me," I say into his shoulder.

Fathom and Indigo turn. "Where were you?" Fathom asks, momentarily leaving the dragonets to examine Precocious for any obvious signs of damage.

Breathless, he says, "I got caught up in, uh, a very intense conversation about religion with a guard. It lasted a bit longer than I was expecting. But it's okay. I'm fine now." He cracks a smile. "Hey. You did it! Didn't even need me. You're like a hero."

It shouldn't mean so much, but hearing him say the words makes me want to die. He seems to glow as he looks at me.

I let him hold me, leaning into his shoulder.

Maybe things are going to be okay.

And then the moment's over.

"We need to get out of here before anyone figures out what happened," Indigo says.

I look over at her. Even though her and Fathom leaving was our idea, I still feel slightly panicked at the thought of being truly without them.

"We'll hide out in the mountains for a while," Fathom agrees. "We can stay here, all of us, and figure out our next moves. How we're going to recruit the SkyWings into joining the alliance."

Precocious clears his throat. He says, "I want to go into the palace with Way. You can stay here and wait–keep the dragonets safe. They believed me, when I said I was Queen Zephyr, you guys. If the guards believe it, maybe Queen Sunset would too, and she would join our alliance. I just need to get through to talk with her."

Fathom and Indigo exchange a glance.

"Precocious. If you're wrong, she's going to kill you," Indigo says. "You'd be the worst kind of fraud. The SkyWings won't give you mercy because of your age."

"How else are we going to do this?" Precocious asks. "Seriously–do you have any better ideas? We're all going to be in danger if we can't make this work."

"Precocious. You cannot put your life on the line for this," Fathom says. "We should–"

"You can't. They'll hate you automatically, even more than they'll hate us."

Fathom hesitates. I can tell he wants to argue, but he can't. Precocious is right.

"Fine," Indigo says. "But Way has to come with you. He'll keep this from getting out of hand."

Will I? The weight of the responsibility suddenly feels impossibly heavy.

***

We come down to land at the edge of the palace. I feel like I must be dreaming.

My heart races as I look up at its looming spires, thinking of all the guards that must be inside. All the dragons who have more than enough reasons to hate us.

I can't breathe.

No choice.

No turning back.

Precocious steps forward, before I'm ready for it. He shouts, "My name is Zephyr, and I used to be your queen!"

I have to fight back laughter. It's absurd, all of it.

Who would possibly believe us?

I want to hide behind the rocks, but I force myself to step forward, even if it's only to impress him.

"Hey! Do any of you hear me?"

He steps forward, like he owns the place. He's not himself anymore–not really.

Then, the big palace gates creak open. The guards step forward, holding their spears at the ready.

I resist the urge to close my eyes rather than face my impending doom.

The guards step forward, wide-eyed.

Three moons. They're really listening.

"Hey! It's you! That NightWing dragonet we captured–and is that your friend? How did you two get out?"

"You thought I'd never return," Precocious says. "You forgot the lesson I was supposed to teach you. No prison can contain me. You killed my sister the first time round, but you won't take my friend away from me this time."

He puts his wing over me, suddenly seeming so much more grand in stature.

"What is he talking about?"

The guards inch closer.

If this doesn't work, we're done for.

"I am Queen Zephyr," Precocious says. "I've come back, to test your loyalty. You did not learn your lesson, so I'll teach it to you again."

I can't help but wonder about the gaps in the mythology Fathom and Indigo forgot: because as Precocious says the words, the guards' eyes widen in fear.

"I put them on the pillars," one of the guards says. "I know I bound their wings. There's no way they should have been able to escape."

"There's no way–a NightWing?"

Precocious lifts his chin. "What of it? I thought I'd come back as an enemy. Just like the first time. Or do you not know the story of how your tribe was founded?"

The way he says it, even I'm starting to think it's true.

More guards pour through the gates, eager to evaluate the situation.

"Don't test me," Precocious warns. "I could free every single one of your prisoners, if I wanted to. I thought I'd receive a warmer welcome than this."

"Zephyr, I'm sorry," one of the guards says, shaking their head. "We–we have not learned our lesson. Clearly."

"You can't be serious," another guard says. "Come on. You're looking at a NightWing dragonet–he's just messing with us. He must have found some way to break through the bindings on his wings, and then–"

"No. I know they were secure," the guard insists. "Besides–why only them? It just doesn't make sense. How would a couple of NightWing dragonets know about  that story, if they weren't really her second coming?"

Yes. Please. Don't question it.

Just go along.

And then a small dragonet, not much older than me, wearing a golden crown steps through the crowd.

The guards part around her, bowing slightly. But they don't fear her, like dragons used to fear Vigilance or do fear Sharp-eyes.

"What's happening?" she says. She has an odd way of speaking–her voice so articulate, she enunciates every syllable perfectly.

"Your Majesty," Precocious says, bowing respectfully. "I am Queen Zephyr. And I'm here to save your kingdom."

Her eyes widen.

"It's real. I swear. And I'll help you–so long as you help me, and my... friend."

Queen Sunset glances back at the guards. "Go back to your posts," she says. And then, she turns to us. "I want to speak to both you. Alone."