There were four large structures forming the sides of the plaza, including the palace. This particular one had tall columns across the front that were carved to look like scrolls, holding up the roof. In the moonlight Qibli could see that letters were etched into each column, but the moons weren’t bright enough for him to read any of the writing. One of the columns had cracks all around the base and another column had broken in half and toppled over. But for such an old building, it seemed more intact than a lot of the others.

The doorway yawned emptily — whatever door had once been here had either rotted away or been taken for some other purpose. More writing was carved into the lintel: something about knowledge and flames and darkness, as far as Qibli could tell. He stepped cautiously inside, hoping there weren’t other, less friendly NightWings lurking in the shadows.

The glow of firelight was coming from one of the rooms off the central hall. As Qibli tiptoed up to peek in, he realized suddenly what this building was, and then he felt like rather an idiot for not guessing sooner.

It was a library.

The biggest library in the world, most likely, if every room was like the one that was lit up. The walls in here were lined with slots for scrolls from floor to ceiling, and the ceiling was pretty far overhead. A vast wooden table filled the center of the room, so large it couldn’t have fit through the doors.

Most of the slots were empty — but up by the ceiling, a dragon was flying from one to another, pulling out the few scrolls that were left. She was humming quietly to herself, and the light gleamed off the silver teardrop scales by her eyes.

It is her.

Qibli felt as if he could breathe again, for the first time in days. He listened to the song she was humming for a moment, and then he stepped over to the table and began lightly drumming on it with his claws, in rhythm with her music.

It took her a moment to notice, but finally she whirled around, looked down, and saw him.

The expression of joy that flared across her face nearly made his heart burst. He wanted to make her smile like that every day. He wanted to feel like this forever — like a dragon who was welcomed and missed (and maybe something else he didn’t dare put into words).

“No way!” she cried.

“Always a way,” he answered, smiling back at her.

“Qibli!” She stuck the torch into a holder near her and soared down, landing in a run that threw her into his wings.

He caught her, laughing (and not crying not crying). “You’re real,” he blurted. “I was starting to feel like I’d imagined you.” Inside the dome of his wings, her talons took his, and she leaned against him, a mystery of cool scales and strong muscles and beating heart. He bent his head toward her, letting hope wash over him.

“How are you here?” she asked.

“Well,” he said, “I figured, check every library in Pyrrhia and you’ll run into Moon eventually.”

She laughed and looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Isn’t this place amazing? Wouldn’t you live here forever if you could?”

No, Qibli thought, in these cold halls, away from the sun and the sky? Only if you asked me to. And then he thought, Would Winter say yes? Doesn’t that make him the better dragon?

“Come see,” Moon said, tugging him toward the shelves. She led him around in a whirl of excitement, describing the old classification system, the archives, the collections each room used to hold, and the giant index scrolls that used to contain the entire catalog of books in the NightWing library.

“The tribe took as much as they could, but they left so much behind,” she said. “And we have to be so careful, I mean, scrolls are not supposed to last two thousand years — some of these are just fragments or dust — but some are beautifully preserved. We’ve started copying the most important ones, quick before they fall apart. There’s so much history here,” she said dreamily.

“I haven’t seen you this excited since … the library in Possibility,” he joked.

“That one was great, too!” she said. “Especially because it had scrolls from all the tribes — do you remember we even found that really old RainWing scroll?”

Of course Qibli remembered. He remembered that Moon had shrieked loud enough to bring a stern SkyWing librarian bustling over to grump about how hopping up and down was not allowed in the library.

“This much excitement about scrolls is strictly forbidden,” he said in an imitation of the SkyWing’s pinched voice.

And he remembered this, too: the way Moon collapsed against him in giggles after the librarian left, exactly as she was doing now.

“Why would you be a librarian if you don’t get excited about scrolls?” she cried. “I will never understand some dragons.”

“I wish I could find them this exciting,” he admitted, a little nervously.

She tilted her chin up to look at him, then reached up to touch his face. “Not everyone has to be a scrollworm. For you, other dragons are like scrolls — you love meeting new ones and trying to read them. You’re always thinking about how other dragons think and what they’re like on the inside. That’s what … I mean, that’s one of the interesting things about you.” She pulled back suddenly and looked down. “Sorry. I know you don’t like hearing about what I overheard in your thoughts.”

“I don’t mind anymore,” he said, catching her talon. “I mean, if you don’t mind what a mess it is in there.” Or the mean thoughts I have sometimes. If she has looked all the way into me and still wants to be my friend … maybe I’m … maybe I’m actually worth something.

“Least messy brain I’ve ever met,” she said, smiling and squeezing his claws.

She doesn’t seem enchanted at all. She seems exactly like herself. But we haven’t talked about Darkstalker yet …

Moon whacked his side with her wing. “You’re distracting me with library talk,” she said. “How did you really get here?”

I shouldn’t tell her about Anemone, he realized. Just in case. He didn’t want to lie to her — but he had to, at least for now, for Anemone’s safety.

“You’re not going to believe it,” he said. “Winter remembered that the IceWings call those mountains out there ‘Darkstalker’s Teeth.’ So we thought, huh, maybe the ‘lost city of night’ is on the other side. And here you all are.”

“That’s why I’m here!” she said. “I mean, in the library. I’m still trying to figure out the prophecy. We found the lost city of night … so now what? Is Jade Mountain saved? Or is there something here we’re supposed to get or read or figure out … maybe something that Fathom or Clearsight left behind? But I can’t find anything about what happened to his friends afterward.”

Qibli tilted his head at her. It was a relief to discover she was still worried about the prophecy. (And kind of cool that she’d had the same thought he did, that maybe Fathom or Clearsight had left something for them.) He’d expected that Darkstalker’s bewitching would make her think everything was absolutely fine, like everyone else did.

“I can help you look,” he said. “But I, um — I have kind of a weird request first.”

“Everything about my life has been weird since school started,” she said. “Give it your best shot.”

The amber teardrop of the earring glowed like a captured ball of fire, reflecting the light of the torch up above them. Qibli cupped it in his talons for a moment, wishing he could add more armor to the spell for her, and then he held it out for her to see.

Moon blinked at the earring, then at him. “Matching earrings?” she said curiously. “Is this a SandWing thing? Are we — um, does this mean —”

“They’re enchanted,” he said quickly, before she misunderstood any further. “There’s a protection spell on both of them — all of them — there are others.”

“Oh,” she said. Did she seem disappointed? Or relieved? Maybe in brighter light he would have been able to tell. “What kind of spell?”

“I asked Turtle to make me immune to any spell Darkstalker casts,” Qibli confessed. “It protects me from his magic — and this one can protect you.”

Now she definitely looked sad. “I hope I don’t need that,” she said, but she lifted the earring out of his claws. “He promised not to cast any spells on me. I want to trust him.”

“Even if you trust him, isn’t it better to be safe, just in case?” Qibli asked. “It’s like the skyfire. We trust you, but you gave it to us anyway so our thoughts would be private. He might cast a spell accidentally — or think he’s trying to help, but it’s something you don’t actually want. You know?”

“I do.” She touched the amber gently with one claw, then reached up and put the earring on.

Just like that. He’d expected more arguments — he’d worried that Darkstalker’s spells on her would be so strong they’d repel any effort to fight them. But there she was now, safe, with a tiny sun on her ear. Qibli smiled.

“It’s a weird feeling, right?” he said. “Doesn’t everything feel different? Like the air around you was full of smoke and now it’s all blowing away and everything is clear?”

She gave him a funny look. “No,” she said slowly. “I don’t feel any different.” She glanced around the library and shook her head. “I really don’t think I had any Darkstalker spells on me, Qibli. I’ve been confused since he came out and I’m still the same amount of confused now. He’s a complicated dragon. I know that. But I don’t think he’s evil, I really don’t. He’s my friend.”

Qibli stared at her in astonishment. It sank in slowly. She’s not bewitched. She genuinely likes him.

His understanding of Darkstalker shifted around, like a puzzle box clicking into a new configuration.

Because he genuinely likes her. I bet he wanted to have one dragon in the world who likes him for real — not because of a spell. She’s important to him.

They’re really friends.

But she doesn’t know everything he’s done.

Can I tell her? Is it safe? Darkstalker can still read her mind. Anything I tell her, he’ll find it there. The spell on Winter — threatening Kinkajou, imprisoning Turtle — the plague killing the IceWings — his alliance with Vulture. Will it put her in danger if he realizes she knows about all of that?

I need to find skyfire for her. Then I can tell her everything.

He shivered suddenly with a realization. As soon as he sees her, he’ll know about the earrings, too.

“Don’t worry, Qibli,” Moon said. “We’re together now. We can figure out the prophecy and save Jade Mountain. I’m sure of it.” She clasped his talons, her face lighting up. “Oh, and the best thing ever happened! Kinkajou’s awake! She’s all right, Qibli!”

“I know,” he said. “That’s awesome. And Winter’s here, too.”

He watched her face intently for a reaction, but she just looked happy. Happier than she’d been to see him? Or the same? Did she feel anything more for either of them? He couldn’t tell.

“Our winglet,” she said with a smile. “Now we just need Turtle.” The smile faded from her face. “I haven’t seen him for days. There was a — a problem with Anemone.”

“I know about that, too,” he said.

“You do?” she said. “How —”

A soft thump from outside interrupted her. They both turned toward the door, and Qibli heard talonsteps slowly approaching through the central hall. He reached out to twine his tail around Moon’s (carefully, carefully, the way SandWings always had to because of their venom barbs). He remembered the crawling feeling of being watched by something in the palace.

But it was no ghost who poked his head into the room.

It was Darkstalker.

“There you are,” he said cheerfully to Moon. “That party was SO boring without you. Don’t worry, I get it, you don’t like parties like that. Clearsight didn’t love them either.” He transferred his smile to Qibli, looking thoroughly unsurprised to see him. “Welcome to the Night Kingdom, Qibli. I was wondering when you’d show up. I didn’t think you’d be able to wait very long before coming to find Moon.” Darkstalker winked, and Qibli wondered if he looked as flustered as Moon did.

“This is a really cool library,” Qibli said quickly, spreading his wings to indicate the vast space around them. “So … am I supposed to call you Your Majesty now?”

Darkstalker shrugged. “You’re not one of my subjects, so it’s up to you.” He wriggled his shoulders slightly. “King Darkstalker. It’s weird how it kind of feels exactly right and kind of doesn’t fit.”

And then he froze suddenly, with his ears pricked as if he was listening to something. A small frown crossed his face. He stepped forward and ducked his head way down to peer at Moon.

“New earring,” he said flatly. He shot a sideways glance at the one in Qibli’s ear.

He knows, Qibli thought with a twist of fear in his heart.

“Don’t be sad,” Moon said, meeting Darkstalker’s eyes. “You know it’s just a precaution. You’d do the same thing, if our situations were reversed. Wouldn’t you?”

“Hmmmm,” said Darkstalker. “It just … reminds me of a bracelet I made for someone once. Because she didn’t trust me. Which, turns out, should have been the other way around.”

“You promised not to put any spells on me or my friends,” Moon reminded him. “So these shouldn’t make any difference.” She tapped the earring with her claw.

“I promised your friends would always be safe,” Darkstalker corrected her. “What if you get attacked and I need to heal you, like I healed Stonemover? What if Qibli gets kidnapped and I can’t get him back for you? And all the beautiful magic I’ve made. No more dreamvisiting? I was going to fly you to one of the moons — dragons standing on an actual moon, can you imagine?”

“Let’s see what happens,” Moon said, kindly but firmly.

Darkstalker swiveled his head to focus on Qibli. His gaze was intense, and yet Qibli got the impression that Darkstalker was looking through him as well — like he could see all the Qiblis that had ever existed and all the ones that might ever be.

He’s checking my future.

Qibli didn’t know if it would do any good, but he bent all his willpower toward imagining the future he wanted most — and a future that would alarm Darkstalker the least. A future where Qibli was a loyal advisor to Queen Thorn, living in the SandWing palace. With Moon. She appeared in his vision without him realizing it at first. He was imagining walking the palace grounds, and there she was beside him, brushing his wing, and they were flying over the desert, laughing, and they had a suite of their own that she filled with scrolls …

He couldn’t delude himself that Darkstalker would really find this idyllic dream in Qibli’s actual future. But hopefully he’d see only Qibli trying to help Thorn and nothing about Qibli trying to stop Darkstalker’s plans.

He wished he knew more about how future-seeing worked.

Unexpectedly, Darkstalker chuckled. He dipped his head to Qibli as if he’d just eaten a particularly delicious goat that Qibli had caught for him.

“Well, do what you feel you have to do,” Darkstalker said to Moon, sounding much more cheerful. “Can you come outside for a moment? I want you to meet someone.”

He turned and padded away, swinging his tail back and forth to some music in his head.

That was the most ominous thing I’ve seen him do yet, Qibli thought. What did he see in my future? Why did it make him stop worrying?

Moon gave Qibli an amused shrug, like, well, that went better than I’d hoped. She flew up to get her torch and they went out through the central room, through the arched doorway, and into the moonlit square.

Darkstalker had paused by one of the scroll-like columns, as if he’d been arrested by the sight of something ahead of him. The expression on his face … the closest Qibli could get to describing it was the way Winter looked at Moon sometimes.

A beautiful black dragon was walking through the toppled statues and overgrown weeds of the square. Her wings reached out to brush across the stones, as if she needed to touch them to believe they were real.

She looked up and saw them, and saw Darkstalker, and Qibli thought, OK, that is what seeing someone you love looks like.

“Moon, Qibli,” Darkstalker rumbled. “I’d like you to meet Clearsight.”