Disclaimer: I do not own Wings of Fire.

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Everyone, this is Ember," Carnelian said. "Kestrel's son."

The rest of the group had gathered when they saw the three SkyWings approaching, no doubt curious about who the new dragonet was. At her announcement, Carnelian saw Asha and Hvitur's eyes widen. Dune's eyebrows raised and he blinked, as though that was the extent to which his stoic face could manage a look of surprise.

Since those three were Kestrel's fellow Talons of Peace, Carnelian figured that they were the ones who knew the most about her past. Even so, I wonder how much they know about Peril and Ember's story. It was practically legend among the SkyWing tribe, but she wasn't sure how much anybody else had heard about it.

Naiad glanced between Kestrel and Ember several times, clearly needing to rearrange her concept of the rust-colored dragon. She probably didn't even know Kestrel had children. But Naiad knew what it was like to be a mother, to have a son. Carnelian watched the blue SeaWing tilt her head slightly to one side and wondered if she was putting herself in Kestrel's scales.

Arctic glanced away, as though he were feeling uncomfortable. Carnelian had only seen him interact with his own son briefly, but it was enough to give her the sense that their relationship was complicated at best and a disaster at worst. This is probably dredging up some bad memories for him, she realized. She was starting to feel sorry for the aggressive IceWing, but she wasn't going to admit that anytime soon.

As she gauged the reaction of each dragon in turn, the red dragonet realized that the gathered group seemed a little smaller than usual. Wait. We're missing a few people.

Carnelian surveyed the area around them, trying to figure out who. Morrowseer was standing a few paces down the shore from the rest of the group, having been banished there by Kestrel's death glare as soon as they returned. Carnelian didn't blame the older SkyWing for trying to keep her son as far away as possible from a dragon who had participated in her murder.

That's Morrowseer accounted for, but where's Orca?

Now that she was really looking, Carnelian realized she couldn't see the green SeaWing anywhere. She sat back on her haunches, craning her neck to peer around the other dragons. She expected that her friend was just standing behind someone else and being blocked from her view. But no, Orca really was nowhere in sight.

Worry twisted suddenly in Carnelian's stomach.

Don't be ridiculous, she told herself. I'm sure someone knows where she is. I can't possibly be the only one who notices that she's gone.

Everything is fine.

"Hi, Ember," said Asha, crouching down slightly so she was closer to the orange dragonet's level. Carnelian latched onto what was happening in front of her, welcoming the distraction. "I'm Asha."

She seemed the happiest of all the dragons to see Ember, not counting Kestrel herself. Carnelian dimly remembered someone telling her that Asha had always been fond of dragonets. For the first time, the red SkyWing found herself wondering if the swamp dragon regretted that she'd never gotten the chance to have dragonets herself.

"I'm Hvitur," the silver IceWing chimed in, as Ember's curious gaze roamed from Asha's face to his.

The little SkyWing's nose crinkled up. He stared at Hvitur for a long time, in that eerie dragonet fashion that always made Carnelian nervous. Then Ember suddenly shied away, retreating toward Kestrel and ducking under one of her wings.

Hvitur blinked, looking hurt. What did I do wrong? his expression seemed to say.

Carnelian felt a laugh rise unexpectedly inside her and did her best to quell it. "I think he's afraid of your name," she muttered in the IceWing's ear.

"That seems unfair," he said. "It's not my fault nobody can pronounce it."

Naiad introduced herself to Ember next, smiling tentatively as he approached from under Kestrel's wing. She waited until he was standing in front of her, then illuminated one of the stripes on her snout, the line of pearly white light ebbing gently in and out of existence.

The orange dragonet was immediately entranced, his eyes widening until they were as round as the moons. He's probably never seen anything like it before, Carnelian realized, amused.

Naiad's smile became more relaxed. "It's nice to meet you, little one."

Dune hung back, as though the dragonet's presence made him uncomfortable. Carnelian thought about Arctic's unease and wondered if there was some similar bad experience with parenting in Dune's past.

Wait, he was one of the guardians for the Dragonets of Destiny too, right?

Carnelian was pretty sure she remembered someone mentioning that before, though at this point she was starting to get confused about what she'd heard while she was still alive and what she'd been told here after her death. She supposed it didn't really matter; information was information, and as long as the source of it was reliable, when she'd heard it was irrelevant.

I wonder what kind of parent Dune was. He did tell us all that fable when it was raining, so maybe he was the type to tell stories to the dragonets before bed. But he's also been reserved for as long as I've known him, which doesn't really seem like a good trait for a parent to have.

For the first time in quite a while, Carnelian thought about her own mother. She was never the loving sort either… did that make her a bad parent? The two of them had never been close, but Carnelian had never blamed her mother for it. She'd just thought it was the way dragons were.

But then she'd met Naiad, who cherished her bond with her son. Maybe she could have attributed that to a SeaWing versus SkyWing difference, but there was also Kestrel, who was harsh toward her adult daughter yet fiercely loving toward her young son. Maybe my own mother was caring like that once, and I just outgrew it. Carnelian certainly couldn't remember a time like that, but no one remembered the earliest months of their life, so it was still a possibility.

I wish I could remember.

"Hey," said a voice beside her, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Did I miss anything?"

Carnelian turned to see a familiar pair of sapphire eyes gazing thoughtfully at her. She felt relief bloom in her chest, banishing the cold worry like a flower coming to end the winter. Orca. The young SkyWing allowed herself a moment to take in everything about the other dragonet: the smooth emerald scales, the pearlescent stripes across her elegant snout, the slight curve of her jaws as she smiled in that way that always made it look like she knew a secret.

"Where have you been?" Carnelian asked, finding her voice.

Orca shrugged. "Just out for a walk. I should have figured that something interesting would happen the one time I decided to go out and do something."

You shouldn't go out by yourself, Carnelian wanted to say. It's risky. The thought surprised her; she'd always been more inclined to take risks than to tell others not to take them. What's gotten into me?

Orca didn't seem to notice her sudden grapple with cognitive dissonance. The SeaWing's eyes landed on Ember and she went oddly still. "Who's that?"

"His name is Ember," Carnelian explained. "He's Kestrel's son. She mentioned to you earlier that she wanted to look for someone, right? That's who it was."

"Hmm," said Orca. "Kestrel never struck me as the motherly type."

"Me either," Carnelian admitted. "But maybe that's just because we've never seen her around her own dragonets before."

Orca made a face, surprising Carnelian. It was an oddly endearing expression on someone who was normally so graceful and composed.

The SkyWing couldn't help but laugh. "What?" she asked. "You don't like dragonets?"

"I have too many siblings," Orca said. "Let's leave it at that."

Sometime later, Carnelian lay comfortably on one side, watching the rest of the group as she wound down for the evening. Ember seemed to have gotten over his initial shyness and was running around all over the place, making circles around Asha, who was trying to catch him. The MudWing raised her wings and stomped her feet, pretending to be a monster, while the dragonet giggled madly. Kestrel looked on, still wearing the face of someone who thought she was dreaming.

Orca lay beside Carnelian, not quite close enough to touch, but within the comfortable distance of companionship. "I was just thinking…" she began. "That little creature has been here for quite some time, hasn't he?"

Carnelian glanced at the green SeaWing, not sure where she was going with this. "Yeah, he has."

"How long?"

"Eight years, give or take."

He should be older than me, actually. That's… really weird.

Orca drummed her claws thoughtfully on the ground in front of her. "That's a long time for a dragonet his age to be by himself."

"You're right," Carnelian realized. She distinctly remembered Ember saying there's nobody here. She'd thought it was lonely and a bit sad at the time, but she hadn't even thought about how damaging that isolation could be. "I'm surprised he still seems like… you know, a normal dragonet."

"There wasn't anyone with him, as far as you could see?" Orca checked.

As far as you could see. It was a weird way to phrase the question. Carnelian frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't see any dragons with him," Orca mused. "But that doesn't necessarily mean he was alone."

Carnelian felt a chill run down her spine, like something with icy feet was tiptoeing almost imperceptibly down her back. There was only one thing here that she knew of that could speak but couldn't be seen. "Do you think this world could have been speaking to him all this time?"

"Anything's possible," Orca replied. "But if that's the case… he might know a lot of things that could help us."

The rest of the riddle. The place Darkstalker said we should go, if we could find it.

"How would we even go about asking him something like that?" Carnelian wondered aloud. "He's so young… he might not even know what we're talking about."

"That is a problem," the SeaWing agreed. "And I doubt Kestrel would let us ask him anyway. She's bound to be extra protective of him now that she's just gotten him back, and I'm sure that means she wouldn't be willing to make him think back to anything potentially traumatizing. Even if it could get us some valuable information."

Carnelian was still thinking about something else the green dragonet had said. "Hey Orca… can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You thought maybe Ember's been hearing this world's voice, but as far as we know, you're the only one who's been able to talk with it at will," said Carnelian. "Do you know why that is? Is there something special about you that Ember might have in common?"

Of course, Carnelian already knew there was something special about Orca, but she doubted that her reasons for thinking so and the afterworld's were the same.

The tapping of the SeaWing's talons grew still, leaving an odd sort of silence in its wake. Carnelian could still hear the distant sounds of Asha and Ember's game, but they seemed suddenly more remote.

"I have a few theories," Orca said at last. Her gaze met Carnelian's, then flicked away to stare into the distance. "But I can assure you, Ember wouldn't have any of those traits in common."

"How do you know?" the SkyWing asked.

"Believe me, there's no way," Orca said, her tone more serious than Carnelian had ever heard it. There was even a degree of tension to it, she thought, which was unusual for the calm SeaWing. Carnelian looked more closely at her friend's face and was startled to find it totally devoid of its usual good humor.

Without it, her face was almost unrecognizable. Without the glitter of mirth, her eyes seemed somehow cold, like they really were just empty blue gems and not windows to her soul.

"We don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to," the SkyWing said, suddenly afraid that she'd crossed a line somewhere without realizing it.

Orca took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. "I'm waiting until I have more proof. Then I might be able to talk about it."

I wonder what she could possibly be thinking of. The green dragon had only just met Ember; surely there was very little she could know about him with such certainty.

But if Carnelian was being perfectly honest with herself, she had been unsettled (or perhaps even a bit frightened) by Orca's sudden change in demeanor. The SeaWing seemed back to her normal self now, perfectly at ease as she watched the other members of their group relaxing and having fun. But something about that sudden look of intense seriousness had wormed its way into Carnelian's chest, leaving a bad feeling behind.

There had been nothing overtly threatening about that look. The green dragonet hadn't even really seemed angry. Yet Carnelian found herself wanting to avoid awakening that side of Orca again, and that meant staying away from the subject that had upset her, at least for the time being.

As Carnelian took her mind off Orca, she became aware that something had changed in the scene before them. Gone were the sounds of Asha's roaring and Ember's laughter. The quiet seemed eerie.

"What's going on?" she asked Orca, but before the SeaWing could even open her mouth to reply, the red dragonet spotted the cause for herself.

Ember had stopped running and stood mostly upright, but he was hunched awkwardly forward with his wings half-spread. He clutched his throat with pale orange claws, suddenly struggling for breath, his small body racked with spasms. Asha had stopped chasing him and was watching in stunned horror.

For a moment, time seemed to stop. Carnelian couldn't breathe.

I have to do something.

"Where's Kestrel?" she yelled, running toward the two.

The sound of the SkyWing's shout seemed to break Asha out of her paralysis. "Sh-she was watching just a minute ago," the MudWing stammered.

"Go get her!" Carnelian said. "I'll try to help Ember."

The swamp dragon nodded and ran off.

Carnelian turned her focus to the young dragonet. His chest was heaving rapidly, and he was letting out a harsh wheezing sound, but his face was flushed, not turning blue. He was still getting some air, apparently, which made the situation a bit less dire. "Ember," she said, grabbing his shoulder. "Can you hear me?"

Ember opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't seem to get in enough breath to make a sound. He gave up and nodded. His eyes were wild with fear.

"Try to calm down," she told him. She wasn't really sure if that would help him, but she'd heard that hyperventilating was as likely to make a dragon pass out as not being able to breathe. Either way, he wasn't getting enough oxygen. "You're gonna be okay. Your mom will be here in just a moment."

"Where is he?" Kestrel barked, appearing beside Carnelian. She spotted her son and pulled him toward her. "Deep breaths," she told him. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. I know it's hard, but you need to control it."

As Ember struggled to slow his breaths and began to cough, Kestrel rubbed soothing circles on his back. She must have been worried, but her eyes were focused, and there wasn't a hint of fear in her voice as she murmured quietly to her son.

After a few tense moments, Ember's breaths seemed to calm. "I… I'm okay," he panted.

Asha turned to Kestrel, her brown eyes wide with distress. "Kestrel, I'm so sorry," she said. "He was running around like normal and all of the sudden he started gasping and choking. I didn't know what to do. If not for Carnelian, I…"

"It's not your fault," Kestrel sighed. "I should have kept a better eye on him. I should have been paying more attention to make sure he didn't end up like this."

"What's wrong with‒" Carnelian began, then realized how that would sound to Kestrel and changed tactics. "What happened?"

"He's always been like this," Kestrel said. "Ever since he was born, he's gotten tired far more quickly than most dragons. And if he tries to keep going, he eventually gets sick."

"B-but… I just… wanted to play," Ember protested weakly.

"I know," Kestrel said. "But you need to take care of yourself. Don't do too much."

Her son coughed harshly. It sounded so horrible that it made Carnelian's own chest ache just listening to it, but it seemed to be an improvement over the gasping, at least.

A few moments later, Ember's coughing eased, and his eyelids began to droop. Kestrel picked him up and cradled him against one arm, and before Carnelian knew it, he was fast asleep.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Carnelian asked, peering at him. "He's not going to stop breathing in his sleep, is he?"

"Of course not," Kestrel snapped, her voice lower than usual. "He's just worn himself out."

Carnelian took a step back and held up her front claws. "Sorry."

The rust-colored dragon sighed wearily. "No, I suppose I should be the one apologizing. I'm mostly angry at myself. It's my job to know these things about my own dragonet. But ever since I—we found him, he's seemed so much more energetic than I remembered, and that made it easy to forget that he isn't as strong as most dragonets."

I guess that's a side effect of being born the way he is, with no fire, Carnelian thought. He's not as healthy as Peril.

Everyone else had gathered around them as the commotion wound down to a halt, even the insensitive ones like Arctic and Morrowseer. Kestrel looked around and noticed everyone staring. "All right, show's over," she snapped. "Get out of here."

Carnelian figured that was her cue to give the mother and son some space. She wandered away, returning to her place beside Orca, who was the only one who hadn't moved to watch the incident. "He's okay," she told the SeaWing, figuring that she'd want to know. "Just tired himself out."

"That's good," Orca said mildly.

Carnelian lowered herself to the ground, resting her head on her talons. Three moons, that wore me out. It was weird how just a few minutes of panic could leave a dragon feeling like she'd flown a marathon.

Today had been a long day, even if it was hard to tell exactly how much time was passing, and Carnelian was tired. But there was a lot for her to think about. We found Ember. I helped. Kestrel can finally make peace with her past. And her son could be the key to everything. It was exciting.

But she also remembered Orca's brief mood swing, which was less exciting and more… unnerving.

Nobody can be calm all the time. I guess I should have expected that there was another side to her in there somewhere. It's not such a big deal, really.

Still… sleep was a long time coming.

A/N: I have no idea how a dragon marathon would work, but I assume it would be an aerial event, not a race on foot.

Thank you so much for reading! And thank you for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. I know I don't usually reply to reviews, but I just wanted to say that I read and appreciate each and every one. All your feedback, support, and kindness means the world to me, and it really keeps me going when nothing else does.

Now that it's summer, I should have more time to work on this story, but be warned that updates might still be infrequent. I'm really starting to get into the plot now, and I'll admit that after all the slow-paced, character-driven chapters, it's pushing me out of my comfort zone. There's more pressure to get these chapters right, and I tend to be insecure about my writing to begin with, so that's not a great combination. Bear with me, and I hope the end result is worth the wait.

Thanks again! Until next time.

-Blaze