Chapter 7
MY EYES SNAP OPEN AS A low bellow sweeps across the forest. Daylight filters through the leaves and I remember where I am – halfway up an oak tree.
The realisation startles me and I grab hold of a branch to stop myself slipping out of my sleeping bag.
My eyes scan the ground for the source of the noise until I spot a boy below, blowing a horn.
‘Everyone stay put!’ Jasper shouts from the tree opposite mine.
Birds fly from their nests as children slip out of their sleeping bags to stand on the wide branches, their faces turned to the sky. My heart hammers as I peer up at the clouds and then I see it.
The red belly of a Bulgarian dragon.
Philippa begins to cry above me and I hear Marquis’s voice soothing her. The dragon glides like a bird of prey as everyone watches in silence. It turns on its side, basking its pink scales in the morning glow. I step on to the branch below mine.
‘Viv!’ Marquis whispers loudly. ‘What are you doing?’
I climb down, my feet finding branch after branch.
‘Featherswallow!’ Atlas hisses from somewhere. ‘Do you have a death wish?’
‘It’s Chumana, Atlas,’ I reply calmly.
I reach the ground and walk through the forest to the wheat field, where the storage huts sit outside of the protection of the trees.
Chumana has landed, knocking over a pot of stinking clam shells.
She shakes her head to rid herself of the dust and dirt swirling around her.
We glare at each other, her bright, orb-like eyes reflecting my entire face.
‘Getting arrested by Guardians seems to be becoming a habit of yours,’ she snarls.
I feel a contemptuous smile on my lips. My fury has been simmering all night, and has almost reached boiling point.
‘I’m glad it has,’ I reply. ‘Otherwise, how would I have come across the dead boy you brought back to life by feeding him your blood? Did you forget to mention that, back when we were nest-mates?’
Chumana swings her head down close to mine. ‘I did not forget. I kept it a secret from you. Those were my orders.’
‘Hollingsworth’s orders?’ I hiss. ‘So you both lied to me. You both let me believe Atlas was dead, for your own gain.’
‘For the gain of the cause,’ Chumana says. ‘Hollingsworth knew your desire for revenge would motivate you to do your duty, and that you’d abandon it to go looking for Atlas if you discovered he was alive.’
I let out a weak laugh. ‘My duty? I did my duty at Bletchley Park by smashing the loquisonus machine and joining the rebels! And yet still the Chancellor keeps me in the dark, letting the teenagers do the work without giving us any of the information we need. Do you know she hasn’t told me what I’m supposed to ask of the wyverns, if we even find them? If she were a true rebel—’
‘Rita Hollingsworth has been a rebel since before you were born!’ Chumana spits.
‘It must be easy to be a rebel while living in the Prime Minister’s pocket, enjoying a prestigious job and the advantages of being First Class.
She sits there, day after day, writing those disgusting Babel Decree articles, while my friends consider themselves lucky if they don’t get eaten by Canna’s dragons!
At least now I’m one step closer to finding the wyverns I’m supposed to communicate with.
For all I know, Hollingsworth was never going to send me—’
‘So you compromised her position and risked the entire rebel movement being dismantled in a day for your own ego,’ Chumana snarls. ‘Then she was right to keep secrets from you. You cannot be trusted.’
‘You cannot be trusted!’ I scream.
Birds streak from the trees, shrieking.
A hand lands on my arm. Atlas pulls me backwards, his eyes flashing with fear, as Marquis and Serena watch from the tree line. I shake him off and turn back to Chumana.
‘You speak of duty,’ I say, my voice laced with hatred. ‘Was what you did during the Massacre of Bulgaria your duty?’ Tears burn my eyes. ‘Was that following orders, too, Chumana?’
My heart sinks as the words leave my mouth. Tension grows taut in the air as Chumana’s eyes narrow. I’ve referred to what she confided to me back at Bletchley Park: how she helped the Bolgoriths massacre Bulgaria’s human population on the orders of the British government.
Her most devastating regret.
The accusation hangs in the space between us, cheap and cruel. Her tail sways dangerously. The hairs on my arm stand on end. Slowly, I turn to look at Atlas.
‘Run.’
We both jump into movement as Chumana’s tail swipes into several food storage huts, sending them splintering to the ground in a spray of wood and feathers. Our boots slam the hard ground as we dart back towards the forest, but something makes me hesitate. I look over my shoulder.
‘Human girl!’ Chumana roars.
Terror fills me as I see the amber of her eyes turn a dark, cloudy brown.
She takes a step towards me and snaps furiously at the air.
I turn and flee, following in Atlas’s footsteps as the forest fills with terrified screams. A gust of wind hits me as I reach the trees and I turn to see Chumana lift into the air.
She flies off towards the sea and I collapse beside Atlas, gasping for breath.
‘She’s gone,’ Marquis says in disbelief.
‘So what?’ I spit. ‘We don’t need her.’
‘She could have helped us!’ Serena says. ‘Protected us!’ She flings an accusatory glare in my direction. ‘Do you have an ounce of self-control?’
‘She told me Atlas was dead!’
Children stare down at us from the surrounding trees. I see Gideon, cowering on a high branch, and Jasper, pale-faced and mutinous.
Atlas is staring at me with a mix of curiosity and confusion.
‘What did you mean about the Massacre of Bulgaria?’he asks.
I turn away, feeling my body flood with shame.
I’m not about to admit how I crassly brought up Chumana’s mistakes, when she was the one who first told me I could be forgiven for mine.
But I don’t have to reply, because Jasper has climbed down and is walking towards us, Philippa clinging to his hand.
‘You brought a Bulgarian dragon to our camp?’ he shouts, looking from Atlas to Marquis to me. ‘Out, the lot of you. Now.’
I shoulder the loquisonus machine as the others gather their belongings.
I don’t know what I’m going to do with it, but I can’t leave it here.
The camp is basking in an orange sunrise, the air suddenly alive with the sounds of birds and dragons.
Philippa stands mournfully beside Marquis, pressing loaves of bread and a gourd of water into his hands.
She cries as Jasper escorts us out of the camp and he whispers comfortingly to her.
‘Why don’t you find us some strawberries?’ he says as we walk uphill in stony silence. ‘The plants have white flowers, see?’
He points to a patch of small red berries, glowing like jewels in the morning dew.
‘Here,’ Marquis says, handing me a black armband. ‘Hollingsworth’s orders are to keep them on at all times.’
More orders.
‘Why?’ I say, taking the armband and glancing awkwardly at the swallow meant to represent me.
‘To identify our bodies in case of dragonfire,’ he replies, avoiding my gaze. ‘They’re made of dragonhide. Flameproof.’
‘Wow,’ I say dryly. ‘How generous of her.’
We come to a stop on the edge of a cliff and Jasper points out to the sea. ‘Over there is Sanday,’ he says. His finger traces the curve of Canna’s shore and then the length of land that juts out across the water directly ahead of us, a stretch of green that lies between us and Rùm.
‘At low tide, you can walk from here to there across the sands.’ Jasper glances at Philippa, whose mouth is full of strawberries. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Ruth’s girls might be able to help you with those wyverns you’re looking for.’
‘Ruth’s girls?’ I say.
Jasper hands me a pair of binoculars and I direct them towards Sanday.
The first thing I spot is a group of pigs, grazing in a pen.
Then I see a girl, wearing white furs. My fingers fiddle with the focus thumbwheel.
She has blonde hair, chopped lopsidedly above her shoulders.
She’s looking directly at me with her own pair of binoculars.
Slowly, she lifts her hand high and raises her middle finger.
‘Ruth used to be with us, back before the groups started fighting.’
‘There are more of you?’ I ask.
‘Three clans, these days,’ Jasper replies as he shoves his hands into his pockets and stares out at Sanday.
‘Ruth attacked a boy from the other group. I don’t blame her.
He never told anyone what he got sent to Wean Island for, but it wasn’t hard to guess.
When it came to girls, he liked to take . . . liberties.’
‘Let me guess,’ Serena says. ‘Ruth told him where to go?’
‘She killed him,’ Jasper says. ‘In self-defence, but still . . . we had to banish her. For breaking our most important law. Enough of us die by dragon as it is, without us killing each other.’
I hand the binoculars back to him.
‘What we didn’t expect was for the majority of the girls to go with her.’
‘Really?’ Marquis snorts.
‘When was this?’ I ask.
‘Years ago,’ Jasper says. ‘But now, Ruth can’t set foot on Canna and we don’t go to Sanday. Couldn’t, even if we wanted to. Their defences are impressive.’
‘No surprise there,’ Atlas says darkly.
I glance at the boys, then gesture to myself and Serena. ‘You’ll have to let us do the talking.’
‘We’ll leave you here, then,’ Jasper says. ‘If Wyvernmire comes looking for you, we’ll tell her what we did last time, that we’ve never heard of you. But don’t come back. If she finds you with us, we’ll wish we’d left Canna when we had the chance.’
With that, he takes Philippa’s strawberry-stained hand and leads her away.
We bask in the morning sun, sharing some of the bread as we wait for low tide.
I watch Atlas as he sits on a rock, a small leather notebook sticking out of his pocket.
He’s loading his gun, humming quietly as he recites what sounds like a prayer.