The Dragonet Prophecy: Chapter 31–Epilogue

"She doesn't trust prophecies," Tsunami said. "Especially ours. It says two of the sisters will die—of those 'who blister and blaze and burn'—but it doesn't say who. She'd only like it if it said really specifically that Burn was going to have a great victory. Right now it's too vague and cryptic for her. She'd rather get us out of the way and fight the war on her own terms."

"If we can believe the scrolls and everything the guardians told us, she's cunning and manipulative and doesn't care what she has to do to become queen. Even if it means destroying the other tribes and the rest of the world along the way."

"I knew she was angry about something."
“About what?" Sunny asked with a bewildered look at the darkness.

The ground was churned up into mud, but not welcoming mud—here it had blood and bones ground into it, with broken wings sticking out from large sodden lumps, like tree branches smashed by a storm.

Some of the bodies below were intact, but twisted into horrific positions of agony, their mouths agape as if they'd been frozen mid-scream.

Some of the bodies below were intact, but twisted into horrific positions of agony, their mouths agape as if they'd been frozen mid-scream.

"This isn't where the MudWing queen lives," Glory said. "She's farther south, in the swamps. We're on the outskirts of the Mud Kingdom here. Not that that makes it safer, I guess."

Sunny nodded vigorously.

They seemed to be practicing a formation—turning and lashing out and defending their flanks without losing their positions.

Clumps of reeds shushed and swished in the breeze and gnarled trees dotted the marsh.

The deep croak of bullfrogs warbled through the air.

Others emerged from the mounds through low doorways hacked out of the muddy bases.

But there was a heavy smell of rotting vegetation and no sign of life from the last mound. They paused outside of it, glancing at the stagnant reed-choked water in the lake.

He hoped fervently that this wasn't his father.

She shook out her wings, which had dappled patterns of paler brown scales, and frowned down at Clay and Glory.

She gave them a look that was suddenly sharp and furtive.

She would have been one more dragon under the mountain to take care of them—but this one kind and affectionate, idealistic and hopeful. A guardian who would have given them faith in the prophecy and themselves.

A burly SandWing was stamping his feet in the center of the mud village, trying to shake off the wet mud that clung to his claws.

"Hey," Clay said to them. He hoped he sounded casual and nonthreatening. “We were just leaving."

He dug his claws into the duck, suddenly famished.

"You're not peculiar!" Sunny said. "I'm the one that's peculiar and little."

Glory, Tsunami, and Clay all tackled him at once. Sunny tried to come to his rescue, and the five of them ended up scuffling in the grass, laughing.

She was smaller than Burn, with a long, cunning face and a black diamond pattern running down her spine.

A blast of wind buffeted the sea against the rocks and yanked at the dragons' tails.

The wind caught her splayed wings and tossed her against the rocks until it got bored and dropped her in the ocean.