Chapter 21

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Meadow awoke from a deep, dreamless sleep a little after midnight. 

He blinked, his eyes struggling to focus in the black room. All around him, he could hear gentle snores from his teammates, and Fire and Hillock were pressed up against him, one on either side, almost as though they'd fallen asleep that way, protecting him. A little ways away, he could make out the rough outline of the dangling hammock where Cotton lounged. Fahrenheit had brought it to her after their little walk in the park. The part with all of the roses. The most romantic spot in the entire mountain. (He'd tried to seem unaffected by the news, but he was sure the drakes had seen right through his lies). She had been cheerful, talkative, and blushing the rest of the evening, even when Hillock not-too-subtly dropped the hint that Meadow might like to see the flowers. (Meadow had almost ruined it, beginning to protest that he really didn't, before he realized the hatchling's plan).  They had finally retired for the evening, and the boys had promised to keep watch, especially after Meadow had voiced his fears of Twisterheart attacking by night.

And if he was still the target, he didn't want anyone to get hurt in the crossfire.

He yawned and carefully slid out from between the two dragons, stretching and twisting his gaze toward the door, finding a single glowing strand of light protruding from a crack at the bottom. The halls were dimly lit, though he knew no one was there. There wasn't so much as a whisper or a heartbeat. It was just the four of them. He didn't expect anyone else.  

Cautiously prying the door open, he slipped out into the darkness. 

The mountain was eerily still as he padded along in the shadows. Halls diverged from their room, traveling every which way. Some led to other bedchambers and underwater hot springs, but Meadow was heading back the way he'd come. The garden was the heart of the kingdom, and by far the quietest place to think. And he needed to focus. The key was vital to their cause. He'd been mulling it over in his head for hours, but no matter what, he could not find a way to rescue his friends without giving Twisterheart what he wanted and handing him the very weapon he needed to destroy the universe. 

What would Cloud do if he were in this situation? Meadow could just picture the blue dragon pacing the halls, trying to work out every possible scenario and step of some crazy, bound-to-go-absolutely-sideways plan that he'd been forced to concoct last minute. 

Meadow couldn't do that. He needed to know the plan ahead of time so he could best formulate a way to succeed with the least possible hassle. But he wasn't good at any kind of plan-formulating. That was why Cloud was the leader and not him. But Cloud wasn't there. It was up to him. Whatever had to be done, he would have to make the decision. He couldn't let the others do it for him. 

Reaching the square, he settled against the base of the tree, closing his eyes and letting the moonlight pour in from the vast rift in the ceiling. He could figure out a way to outsmart Twisterheart. He just needed to think. 

"Well, hello. Fancy finding you here at this time of night."

He eyes flew open at a smothered giggle and he craned his neck upwards to see a familiar lavender hatchling peering down at him from her tightly nestled position in the trees. "Oh, hey," he replied, dropping his head back between his talons. 

"Can't sleep either, huh?" There was a crunch and a huff, and the purple dragoness landed lightly before him, white tail snaking behind her. "What's wrong? The dragmuffs steal your dreams?"

He didn't even have it in him to ask what a dragmuff was. "I'm just not tired," he lied. He didn't want to explain it to her. How could he? The possibility of becoming the master of the key and ruling Torch Mountain was a lot of pressure and a lot of responsibility that he wasn't sure he was ready for. "Why are you up?" he added, hoping to change the subject. 

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