CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I GET OUT OF BED at a quarter to midnight. In the hallway, a floorboard creaks beneath the Guardian’s feet as he readies himself for the end of his shift. Sophie sits up in the bed next to mine, lights the lamp and glares at me.
You’ll pay for what you did to me.
‘We’re going to get caught,’ she whispers.
‘No, we’re not,’ I say. ‘We’ll go as soon as that Guardian leaves.’
I pull on my jacket and boots.
‘How nice for you, to be Wyvernmire’s pet one day and a rebel the next,’ Sophie says. ‘Will you go back to being a Second Class snob when it’s all over?’
‘You were a Second Class snob, too, once,’ I say.
‘But I didn’t betray my best friend to get into university.’
There’s the pang of guilt again, the one that will never go away. How did I even entertain the thought that Sophie might forgive me?
‘No,’ I say. ‘You’re a better friend than I ever was. Now will you please get dressed?’
We hear the shuffle of footsteps going down the stairs. The Guardians usually have a cigarette break together in the courtyard before changing shifts. We have about two minutes to get out. I open the door a crack and jump as a face appears on the other side.
‘All right?’ Marquis says.
Karim and Atlas are standing behind him. When I slip out on to the landing, I let my hand brush against Atlas’s. He has a large pack on his back.
‘This is going to get us killed,’ Sophie says to Marquis as we hurry down the stairs.
Marquis shrugs. ‘Better than waiting for Gideon to come and murder you, wouldn’t you say?’
We walk through the dark hallways and the kitchen, then out the back door and into the walled garden where Ralph broke my arm.
‘You’re meeting the dragon at the top of the forest,’ I whisper to Karim.
I wonder if Serena really is hiding in town. She must be terrified. For all I dislike her, I wish that she was here with us now, about to escape. We walk through the trees in silence and when we reach the glasshouse Atlas stops. He pulls the pack off his back and hands it to Karim.
‘Give it to the dragon,’ he says. ‘She’ll know what to do with it.’
Karim gives Atlas a wary look, then opens the pack and almost drops it.
The three dragonlings are curled up inside, their tails entangled, and poking out from beneath them are two dragon eggs.
‘Where did you—’
‘This is what mine and Dodie’s work involved,’ Atlas says darkly. ‘Kidnapping babies.’
‘Keep walking straight up,’ I tell Karim, ‘until you reach a field. She’s waiting for you.’
He nods nervously as I turn to Sophie. ‘You should go with him. Now’s your chance to—’
‘To live as a fugitive for the rest of my life?’ Sophie glares at me, then glances at Atlas. ‘If his rebel friends burn Wyvernmire tonight, I want to be here to watch.’
Next to me, Karim is locked in Marquis’s embrace.
‘Be careful,’ Karim tells him fiercely.
Marquis nods, his hands cupping Karim’s face. ‘You too.’
They kiss – one chaste kiss – and I stiffen. Marquis glances at me, as the secret we’ve guarded all these years finally emerges into the open. Then Karim walks up into the forest and I lean against my cousin.
‘You’ll see him again soon,’ I say.
He forces a smile. ‘I know.’
It strikes me then that we could all go, Atlas, Marquis, Sophie and I. Climb on to Chumana’s back and fly away from Bletchley tonight. But I want to be here, I realise. I want to see the rebels with my own eyes, want to watch as Wyvernmire witnesses her stupid plan backfire.
And I want to be the one who makes sure she never sees a single translation of the Koinamens.
‘Atlas!’ a voice hisses.
I jump, then relax. A pale face, lit up by a lantern, is peering out of the back window of the glasshouse. Dr Seymour.
We pile through the window, stepping through the mess of wires from the reperisonus machines, and Dr Seymour hands Marquis a second lantern. He lifts it towards the two loquisonus machines on the sofa, their brass speakers glinting in the light. Next to them is a hammer.
Sophie’s eyes widen. ‘We’re going to destroy them?’
‘It’s the only way to keep them out of the wrong hands,’ Dr Seymour says. She passes the hammer to Atlas. ‘That can be your job. Sophie and Marquis, I need you to move the sonar blockers. Get them as far away from here as you can. We have to make sure they don’t interfere with any echolocation calls sent by rebel dragons flying over the glasshouse.’
Marquis nods and he and Sophie creep back outside.
‘And me?’ I say to Dr Seymour.
‘The indexing system,’ Dr Seymour replies. ‘And the logbooks. Every translation we’ve made has to go.’
I feel my stomach drop. I glance at the box of index cards on the table, months of hard work. All about to be destroyed. Atlas looks at me, the hammer held between his hands. I nod. Then he lifts the hammer over his head and brings it down on to the loquisonus machine. It smashes into a hundred pieces, sending splintering glass across the sofa and floor. He lifts an arm to protect his face as glass continues to skitter, then brings the hammer down again. I wince at the noise.
‘Where is Soresten?’ I say to Dr Seymour, realising I didn’t see a guard outside.
‘I saw him talking to Muirgen this evening. He seems to have abandoned his post.’
I feel a fizz of hope, then unease. Has Soresten deserted Wyvernmire to help the rebels? Or has he gone to warn Queen Ignacia?
‘How do you want to destroy this?’ I ask Dr Seymour. ‘We can’t light a fire.’
But Dr Seymour is already dragging a bucket of water towards me.
‘Soak it all,’ she says.
I take a handful of index cards, each one covered in my handwriting, or Sophie’s, or Gideon’s, or Katherine’s. I read the lists of trills and skrills and sweeps and feel a strange rush of grief. I plunge the cards into the water. They float for a moment, then sink. In a few minutes, I’ll be able to mash them to a pulp. I help Dr Seymour push more papers into the bucket, ripping page after page out of the logbooks. I jump as Atlas hits the loquisonus machine one more time, then pulls the second towards him.
We don’t have a choice , I tell myself as I stare at the most beautiful invention I’ve ever seen lying twisted and bent on the ground. Dr Seymour, I notice, hasn’t looked at it once.
Footsteps sound outside. I crane my neck to look for Sophie and Marquis, but no one emerges through the window. Instead, the steps go round the other side of the glasshouse. Dr Seymour’s eyes meet mine and we freeze. The door to the glasshouse bangs open.
‘Dolores Seymour, you are under arrest for collaborating with the enemy.’
Ralph is standing in the doorway, pointing a gun. When he sees me and Atlas, his mouth spreads into a smile.
‘Three for the price of one.’
I grab the last of the index cards and plunge them into the water as a group of Guardians storm in and seize us, snatching the hammer from Atlas’s hands and handcuffing Dr Seymour. Ralph grabs me by the hair and I scream as he pulls me to my feet.
‘Get off her!’ Atlas shouts.
‘I should have known you’d be involved in this, too,’ Ralph says in my ear. ‘What will the Prime Minister say when I tell her that her best recruit is a spy?’
‘The Prime Minister is working with Bulgaria,’ I say as a Guardian wrestles my hands behind my back. ‘She’s going to get us all killed.’
Dr Seymour is glaring at Ralph with pure hatred. ‘How did you find out?’
Ralph smiles and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out the dracovol, blood pouring from its nostrils, its eyes staring.
Oh no.
Dr Seymour closes her eyes and lets out a shaky breath.
‘We caught the blighter returning to its nest, no doubt after having completed a delivery?’ Ralph sneers. ‘Passing messages to the rebels right under our noses. Perhaps I didn’t give you enough credit, after all, Dolores.’
He stares at me and Atlas. ‘Where are the rest of the recruits?’ he barks.
Neither of us speak.
‘Are you going to tell me you have no idea where your cousin is?’ Ralph snarls.
‘I suppose he must be in bed,’ I say. ‘He’s not involved in this.’
‘Liar.’
‘Do you really think we’d go looking for the other recruits?’ Atlas says. ‘They’ve been trying to murder us!’
‘Take them to Ravensloe,’ Ralph tells the Guardians. ‘Guardian 257, stay here and guard that machine. The rest of you, find out where the hell the fucking patrol dragon’s gone.’
They take us to the seminar room, where Ravensloe is standing by the desk like on the first day we met him. But any trace of his fake friendliness is gone.
‘You dare betray your benefactors?’ he snarls as we’re lined up in front of him.
‘Benefactors?’ Atlas says. ‘Is that what you tell yourself you are?’
‘You’d be dead without Bletchley, boy,’ Ravensloe says.
‘We’ll all be dead soon, Deputy Prime Minister,’ says Dr Seymour. ‘How could you? How could you do this to Britannia? The Bulgarian dragons—’
‘Silence!’ Ravensloe roars. ‘I’ll not be lectured to by you deserter scum.’ He jerks his head towards Ralph. ‘Where are the rest of them?’
‘My team is still searching,’ Ralph says. ‘They’re—’
‘It stuns me how incapable you are of keeping track of a group of teenagers,’ Ravensloe says.
Anger flickers in Ralph’s eyes. ‘They’ve been given too much freedom,’ he says. ‘The Prime Minister put her trust in the wrong—’
‘The Prime Minister expects everyone to perform their duty, recruit and Guardian alike,’ Ravensloe says, staring at Ralph. ‘When she hears of this, she’ll—’
His voice is drowned out by a loud whirring sound. Through the blackouts, lights flash. It’s the sound of propellers. A helicopter.
‘Oh, and here she is now.’ Ravensloe feigns a cheerful voice. Then he points at Atlas. ‘You. Have you anything to show for your work in Zoology? Any information to give your Prime Minister in the morning?’
Atlas snorts. ‘I’m afraid not,’ he says. ‘I did pass on a lot of information to the Coalition, though.’
The Guardian behind him lands a punch to his head, smashing his face against the floor. Dr Seymour and I both scream.
‘And you?’ Ravensloe says, looking at us. ‘Have you cracked the dragon code? Or will I be sentencing you both to death this evening?’
I look at my friends, at Atlas’s bleeding face pressed to the floor by the Guardian’s boot, at Dr Seymour’s defiant glare saying one thing, but the hand pressed to her stomach another. We’ve lost before we’ve even begun. Ravensloe has us now, and Marquis and Sophie are out there in the dark. What if the Guardians find Karim and the dragonlings before they reach Chumana? Maybe we should have just waited for the rebels to get here, continued to play along …
I look from Ralph’s goading face to Ravensloe’s expectant one.
‘Yes,’ I tell him calmly. ‘I’ve cracked the code.’
Ralph’s sneer disappears.
‘Viv!’ Atlas shouts. ‘Don’t be stupid. You can’t—’
‘They’ll kill us if I don’t,’ I snap. I glare at Ravensloe. ‘Won’t you?’
‘If you fail to complete the work required of you, you will be judged for your crimes and punished accordingly, as made very clear to you when you accepted this job,’ Ravensloe says. ‘Unfortunately, those crimes now include treason, which is punishable by death.’
‘If we’re guilty of treason, then so is the Prime Minister,’ Dr Seymour says. ‘She’s on the verge of putting Britannia under foreign rule.’
I close my eyes. Marquis and Sophie might still live, but Sophie will spend the rest of her life in Granger’s Prison as a class defector. Serena will be demoted or forced into marriage. And Gideon? I don’t even know what he did to get here.
‘She’s lying, Deputy Prime Minister,’ Ralph says sharply. ‘She doesn’t have the code.’
‘I’m not lying,’ I say. ‘I’ve been learning it for months, but I needed to be sure I was giving the Prime Minister the correct information. I’ll give you the code and all of its translations, but only if you let the rest of the recruits go. Only if you pardon them.’
‘They failed to keep their side of the deal, Miss Featherswallow—’
‘Giving Wyvernmire the code is the only chance you have at cancelling this alliance,’ I say.
Hesitation flickers in Ravensloe’s eyes.
‘If it’s confirmed, the Bulgarians will turn against the Prime Minister eventually. We all know that’s inevitable.’
I glance at Atlas staring up at me from the floor.
‘So let Atlas and Dr Seymour go, call off your search for the others and I’ll give it to you.’
Ravensloe moves slowly out from behind his desk, his eyes on Ralph.
‘Guardian 707, if I am not mistaken, your time in the German Freikorps taught you a wide range of persuasion techniques?’
Ralph stands up straighter. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘What were they?’
‘The techniques were for use on dragons, sir,’ he says. ‘We couldn’t use brute force, which was easily equalled by our prisoners, so we resorted to subtler, sharper techniques.’ Ralph removes a long, thin knife from his belt. ‘The fine art of cutting was one.’
‘Would you care to demonstrate?’
Ralph gives Ravensloe a stunned look, as if trying to gauge whether he is serious. Then he smiles. A Guardian grabs me from behind and thrusts me towards Ralph.
‘No!’ Atlas and Dr Seymour scream together.
‘Get off me,’ I spit, but the Guardian kicks my legs out from beneath me and lies me at Ralph’s feet, pinning me by my shoulders.
He kneels down to my level and reaches towards me. I try to kick out, but another Guardian grabs my legs. Ralph lifts the sleeve of my jacket and shirt. He looks to the Guardian. ‘Hold her still.’
‘I’ll kill you!’ Atlas roars.
The knife cuts into my arm and I scream. Tears and pain blur my vision as I arch my back, but moving my arm is impossible. Ralph drags the blade along my skin and I scream again, nausea rising up inside me as I clench my eyes shut.
‘I have information about the dragon eggs!’ comes Atlas’s muffled voice. ‘Please, just stop hurting her!’
Ralph lifts the knife and I feel the cool tip at my wrist.
‘All she has to do is give us the code,’ Ravensloe says. ‘Will you do that, recruit?’
I keep my eyes shut, the dim light shining pink through my eyelids. I hear the door creak open and a gasp of surprise.
‘Prime Minister Wyvernmire,’ Ravensloe says. ‘I wasn’t expecting a visit tonight.’
The knife tip disappears. My eyes fly open. Wyvernmire is standing in the doorway, dressed in a long green coat, her dragon’s talon brooch gleaming at her throat.
‘Whyever would that be?’ Wyvernmire says sharply. Lines furrow deep across her brow, as if the past few days have aged her. ‘Did you expect me to sit in my rooms while you obtained crucial information?’
Ralph is still kneeling over me, staring up at his aunt like a little boy caught doing something bad.
‘They were found sabotaging the contents of the glasshouse,’ he says. ‘You said to use any means necessary, Prime Minister.’
‘Indeed I did,’ Wyvernmire replies, her gaze finally falling on me.
I stare back at her, and for a brief moment I hope to see a trace of the woman who told me we were alike. But her face betrays not a trace of emotion.
‘Except that is not the girl you will be torturing.’
Ralph stands up. ‘No?’
‘No,’ Wyvernmire says.
She moves aside with a swish of her coat to reveal a small, trembling figure behind her.
‘This is.’
I sit up, my whole body screaming in horror. The child stares at me, recognition flashing in her golden eyes. Then she stretches out her arms towards me and lets out a deep, desperate moan.
Ursa.