Conquest : A Wings of Fire Fanfiction

9. Plans

Sandstorm awoke in the middle of the night.

It was dark, darker than ink, and the faraway stars shone brightly far above her. The rain had stopped sometime previously, after giving everything a thorough washing.

She didn't know why she woke.

It was a small noise. Probably just the fall of rubble from the many stone ledges and criss-crossing pathways. But somehow - a sixth sense, maybe - had detected something different. 

She crept out of the cave. 

The four dragonets had found a fairly large cave which was almost empty, save for a bit of rubble in one corner. They'd fallen asleep instantly, for it was warm inside the cave, though it was raining heavily outside.

Sandstorm breathed in the fresh air. It was quiet, extremely quiet - no chirruping of crickets, no calls of small animals, no trills of nightingales. That only meant one thing.

Something foreign was on their territory.

Something dangerous and powerful, scary enough to chase predators out of their own territory.

She pricked her ears and listened. Nothing. All was silent. Thinking that she'd only heard a bear or a mountain cat prowling around on the plateaus, she slipped back inside the cave. Maelstrom stirred, his ears twitching, and she carefully tip-taloned past him.

Yawning, she curled up, resting her head on her talons. She basked in her own warmth, enjoying the feel of her warm pale-yellow scales. The chill was definitely dissipating the longer the night dragged on.

Suddenly, there was a loud clatter outside.

Sandstorm bolted up and froze, listening carefully. The noise had wakened the others; she crept over to each one of them and hushed them, all the while listening as hard as she could.

And voices drifted towards her.

Maelstrom sat up straight, his gaze unfocused and disoriented. She filled in her winglet on what was happening in the lowest voice she could muster. All of them were slightly fearful and tense as they eavesdropped on the unfamiliar voices.

One spoke - a thin, cold one that sounded very much like and IceWing's. It was younger than any dragon in Hibiscus's group had been. Or, at least, Sandstorm thought so.

'Why do we always get put on night watch?' complained the IceWing. More rocks fell. If they really were on night watch, they weren't doing a very good job. Sandstorm was pretty sure everything alive in a five-mile radius could hear them shuffling around.

Another voice reached her ears - a low, growling voice.

'Because we're the worst, and they just want to get rid of us.' The IceWing scoffed haughtily. The two dragons were coming closer and closer to the dragonets' hiding place.

'As if! I bet -' he began, but was cut off by the other dragon.

'You youngsters think you know everything. Wake up, Changbai! We're not here because we're the best - you're the youngest, and the most naive, and I'm the oldest, with a peg leg! We're both almost useless, so we always get the worst jobs!'

The harsh voice receded, and there was a long pause. The IceWing seemed to be considering his companion's words. 'Perhaps you're right,' he said, and his voice was colder, more closed-off. 'Maybe that was why I had to carry that NightWing most of the way.'

Sandstorm clenched her talons into fists. Moon - they were talking about Moon!

She inched a bit closer to the low-hanging entrance. She wasn't sure if full-grown dragons could fit through, but she was taking no chances. Sandstorm clambered up on a thin ledge that could barely support her weight, but it was concealed from view and she was still quite near the entrance.