Always - Moonbli

16. Jailbreaks and Tunnels

Qibli

Qibli didn't feel so good. 

His mind kept drifting to Dust. 

The SandWing slave had said he was from the Scorpion Den. After that sentence, Qibli's head went into overdrive. A memory kept replaying in his mind. Of him, two-year-old Qibli, and his sister and brother, Rattlesnake and Sirocco. 

They were sneaking around a stall bearing fresh dates, and were trying hard not to be seen by the short-tempered owner. Suddenly, a commotion ensued in front of the stall and Qibli peeked around it from the back, curious. 

The stall-owner, a bad-tempered SandWing with a wooden leg, was yelling at a cowering dragonet perhaps four or five years older than him. Apparently the dragonet had tried to steal one of the owner's prized possessions - a jewelled lamp that probably cost a lot - and had caused a lot of damage, upturning many other precious valuables. 

That was all Qibli saw, for Rattlesnake had dragged him and Sirocco away from the scene, maintaining that they would do better elsewhere. He had thought briefly of the dragon during the next few days, but hadn't really given it much thought. 

Well, now he was. 

Qibli was pretty sure the dragonet in the Scorpion Den had been Dust. Not only that - he was also sure that two years later, the same Dust had joined Queen Thorn's Outclaws. Same narrow features, same wide, permanently scared eyes, same scar on the neck. 

Yup. Unless the slave had an identical twin, it was definitely Dust. 

He paced around the guest room, recreating the path Moon had taken and trying hard to believe that they were all okay. 

The encounter with Dust had brought up unbidden memories that he didn't think about often - like the day he'd been sold off by his mother, the many times Vulture had decided to pay a visit, the time his mother had thrown him against a wall for giving her a coconut, the day Sirocco and Rattlesnake had pushed him into quicksand - at this rate, he'd be psychoanalysing himself more than that king of sociopaths, Darkstalker. 

He sighed again and spun around to walk to the other side of the room. 

Peril was not looking very knowledgeable after Turtle had told her their tragic tale. She looked like a dragon who'd been given too much information - half of it in Monkey language - and then asked to take a test on it. 

'Wait - so there's another sociopath?' she asked, tilting her head. 'A cousin of Darkstalker? She's our friend, right - oh, she isn't? Um - someone explain all this to me!' Turtle looked offended. 'Hey, I tried.' 

Peril snorted. 

'It was mostly "Oh, and then we, like, ran into a Peach - no, not a peach, a dragon named Peach - he was neon orange and wore tons of jewellery but later he became a nicer colour - yeah, he's a RainWing - and we, like, thought about doing you-know-what - fighting - but we couldn't bring ourselves to cause he was just so nice, but Winter and, um, Nightmare - no, sorry, Nightfall - I mean, Nightfrost! - wanted to do you-know-what - kill him and stuff - but we stopped them and boy were we sad later on that we didn't kill him - you'll find out why - and he, like, took us here and turned out to be Nightmare!" The only word I registered at first was Nightmare,' she growled. 

Qibli laughed. 

'Hey, I'll explain for you,' he said, grinning. 'Turtle, you can go back to your food.' Turtle joyfully ran - or took his best shot at an activity called running that he definitely had been unfamiliar with - to the cupboard that Winter's back legs had recently abandoned. 

'Hey, you stamped nearly all of the good stuff,' he complained, peering in. Then he caught sight of Winter's expression. 'What did you say?' asked the IceWing dangerously, and Turtle hastily corrected himself. 'I meant, how cramped all the foodstuffs are!' 'That's what I thought you said.' Winter looked away. And Turtle shut up.