Chapter 15
I HEAR SERENA SCREAM AS MY face grazes the forest floor, before the person on top of me pulls me roughly to my feet.
I blink dirt from my eyes. Marquis and Gideon are on their knees, their captors standing over them in brown clothes and odd-looking masks made of tree bark and leaves.
Serena writhes in the arms of another, spitting insults.
Where is Atlas?
‘Do what they tell you,’ Gideon says, his eyes on the ground.
Ten people surround us, their faces hidden, poison pouches hanging around their necks.
‘Search their packs,’ someone barks.
A couple of them take our packs and begin rifling through the contents, pulling out medicine and spare socks and ammunition.
One takes a step towards Gideon. The person is broad-shouldered with long, blond curls tied back with a piece of cloth.
Their hands are small, fingernails bitten down to their beds.
‘I don’t believe my eyes.’
The voice behind the mask is low and gravely, but young. I hear a London accent, probably Third Class. Its owner removes their disguise and behind it is a boy our age. He has a round, bullish face and a sneer that means nothing good. His green eyes watch us hungrily.
‘Gideon?’ he says.
‘It is!’ one of them laughs. ‘Thought they took you back to the mainland.’
The first grabs Gideon by the hair and stares into his face. ‘Giddy, my boy. Is it really you?’
Gideon scowls, his arms still pinned to his sides by the person holding him.
‘Hello, Freddie,’ he mutters.
Freddie lets out an incredulous laugh. ‘We just get luckier and luckier, don’t we boys?’
The boys surrounding us let out loud jeers as they remove their masks.
‘Gideon?’ I say. ‘Who is this?’
Freddie’s head jerks towards me. He comes so close his nose almost touches mine and as I breathe in the hot, dirty smell of him, I see Marquis tense in my peripheral vision.
‘Viv, right?’ he says. ‘Pretty. You can stay.’
Freddie moves to Serena. ‘Nice accent,’ he says with a coy smile. ‘Could have listened to you all day. But what’s a First Class girl like you doing so far from home?’
Serena doesn’t flinch as she meets his gaze. ‘We’re here as part of the Human-Dragon Coalition.’
Freddie snorts. ‘So that’s what you call it. And what’s your name?’
‘Serena Serpentine,’ she replies, lifting her chin.
Freddie’s eyes linger on Serena’s face as two more boys burst through the bushes.
‘The other one took off,’ the first mutters.
I blink back tears as I stare at my boots.
Did Atlas really just abandon us? Freddie doesn’t seem to care that he has escaped.
His eyes narrow in Gideon’s direction. ‘But how can Giddy be a rebel, when he was taken from us months ago by order of the very Prime Minister the rebels are fighting? Turncoat, are you?’
I look at Gideon. ‘This is the group you were with on Canna?’
Gideon nods miserably.
‘This is the group that the boy who attacked Ruth was from?’ says Marquis.
Freddie’s eyes light up when they land on Marquis. ‘Look at you!’ he says. ‘You’re even prettier than the girls are.’
He looks around and is rewarded by a few laughs, then turns back and punches Marquis in the stomach. Marquis drops face first in the dirt, wheezing as he clutches his sides.
‘Marquis!’ I shout.
I fly at Freddie, escaping the grip of the boy holding me, and when my nails meet with the back of his neck I dig them in hard.
He screams and twists arounds, catching me by the collar of my coat and flinging me away so that I land next to my cousin.
Freddie breathes heavily as he stares at me in astonishment.
His hand goes to his neck and when it comes away it’s smeared in blood. A slow grin spreads across his face.
‘Maybe they are rebels, after all.’
I reach over to Marquis and pull him into a seated position. Our eyes meet.
‘Are you all right?’
He’s gasping for breath, his lungs, still struggling from the poisonous gas, desperately drawing in air. But he manages to nod.
‘Now,’ Freddie says. ‘Who’s Ruth?’
‘The one that offed my cousin Sinclair,’ says another boy, pulling his camouflage away. He has a shaved head and small, sharp teeth. ‘His frigid girlfriend. Perhaps I should pay her a visit. Show her a good time.’
‘I’d like to see you try,’ Marquis croaks.
‘Shut up, Roy,’ Freddie says. He turns to me. ‘You’ll have to excuse Roy. Living out here has caused him to lose his manners.’
‘And you yours,’ Serena spits.
His lip curls. ‘We’ll finish this back at camp,’ he says. ‘It’s almost feeding time and that Bulgarian ain’t caught anyone in weeks.’
The boys haul us to our feet.
‘What do you want with us?’ I say as they push us deeper into the forest.
‘Speerspitzes, mostly,’ Freddie replies. ‘But we’ll take what we can get.’
The boy pinning my arms to my sides grips them tighter, as if my question might allow me to escape again. I twist around and look him in the face. He’s skinny with brown hair and huge, dark eyes.
‘What’s your name?’ I ask.
He blushes and pushes me onwards. ‘Pascal.’
‘What’s a Speerspitze, Pascal?’
We reach the edge of the forest and through the trees I see an old stone church. Its spire is blackened and falling apart. In the place of the door is a dirty curtain, blowing in the wind.
‘The Speerspitze is the key to our hunt,’ Freddie says.
‘We had pretty much mitigated the threat of death by dragon until these Bulgarians came along. They hunt in packs, appearing out of nowhere so we don’t even have time to use those.
’ He nods at the poison pouch around my neck.
‘Since the start of spring, we’ve lost a third of our number. The Speerspitzes’ll change that.’
‘Jasper’s group has barely lost anyone,’ Serena says as we reach the church. ‘So perhaps you’re just slow.’
‘It’s because the Bulgarians prefer to hunt on this side of the island, smart arse,’ says Roy. His fingers dig into Serena’s shoulder. ‘We must taste sweeter.’
‘Ain’t nothing sweet about you, Roy.’
Freddie and Roy snicker and when I catch Serena’s eye I feel a sense of unease.
‘So . . . what?’ I say. ‘You think you’re going to hunt Bulgarian dragons?’
‘It’s about time the tables turned, ain’t it?’ Freddie says.
Freddie lifts the curtain in the church doorway but doesn’t move from beneath it, so when Pascal pushes me through we brush against each other.
I’m close enough to see the peeling skin on Freddie’s dry lips, and then I notice the dragon scales beneath the string of his poison pouch.
They’re sewn together in a long strip and wound around his neck so that he looks like he’s slowly turning into a reptile.
He catches me looking and leans forward.
‘The Bolgoriths like to go for the throat.’
The church is bare and cold, but light filters in through the stained-glass windows, casting the pews in a purple glow.
The blue sky peers in through a hole burned in the ceiling.
Blankets and old mattresses litter the space and at the back are long tables covered in an assortment of scavenged weapons: knives, a few guns and several fire pokers.
There’s a pungent, overpowering smell in the air.
Above the old church organ, tens of pheasants and rabbits have been strung up, a few feathers occasionally floating down.
I feel my face pale. Surely they must attract dragons?
More boys, of various ages, look down at us from the balconies, all wearing the same hostile look.
Pascal lets me go. I sit down on one of the pews next to Serena.
There’s a busyness to the boys, a feeling of movement that we’ve just interrupted.
Through the wooden balcony railings I see food being sorted and packed. They’re preparing for something.
‘Lads,’ Freddie calls out. ‘I’ve brought you something none of us have seen in a while. Girls!’
Cheers and laughter ring out, echoing through the church. I see a smaller boy sitting on the balcony, his legs swinging down and his face smeared with jam, watching us with a grin.
Freddie jumps up on to one of the pews. ‘Here we have the sophisticated Serena,’ he says with a mock bow, ‘and Viv, a true vixen.’ His eyes flash. ‘And this maiden here is Marquis.’
Marquis glares at Freddie as the air rings with more whoops and jeers.
‘And of course, our very own snivelling, spineless sissy, Gideon, still as terrified of dragons as he always was. Who remembers him pissing himself?’
The boys stamp their feet as Gideon hangs his head, dust pouring down from the rafters into his hair.
‘Give it a rest, Freddie,’ says a familiar voice.
I frown as a tall boy emerges from behind the altar.
‘Jasper?’
Jasper skulks towards us, hands in his pockets. He’s wearing more clothes than when I last saw him, but his feet are still bare.
‘What are you doing here?’
He glances at the boy next to him, also from his camp. I remember that his name is Henry.
‘Allying,’ Jasper replies. ‘Wyvernmire’s Guardians destroyed our camp.’
My face falls as Marquis swears. ‘Was anyone hurt?’
‘No,’ Jasper says. ‘The rest of the group is sheltering not far from here.’
‘You know these lot, Jasper?’ Freddie asks.
‘I wish I didn’t.’ Jasper glowers.
‘There’s a war on, Jasper,’ Serena says. ‘Wyvernmire would have come for your camp with or without us.’
‘The Bulgarians just murdered dozens of rebel dragons a few miles from here,’ I say. ‘You should all be hiding.’
‘We won’t need to hide when we have the Speerspitzes,’ Freddie says.
‘What,’ I ask again, ‘are Speerspitzes?’
‘Guns that kill dragons!’ the small boy on the balcony shouts.
Freddie sees our confusion. ‘You really ain’t heard of them?’
I glance at the others, then shake my head.
‘Bulgarian Bolgoriths, fire-breathing planes and Speerspitzes,’ he says. ‘Wyvernmire has the full set.’
‘Imported from Germany,’ Pascal says in a gentle voice, ‘and named after a snake, a lancehead.’
‘Spearhead,’ Gideon says. ‘The German translates to spearhead.’
‘Whatever,’ Pascal says. ‘She’s using them against her enemy dragons. They’re being set up right now, along the coast.’
‘The Bolgoriths are using them,’ I correct him. ‘They’re in control of Wyvernmire and her government now. And if you don’t let us go, they’ll kill the rebels and seize the whole of the United Kingdom.’
‘How do you reckon you’ll be getting your hands on these guns?’ Marquis snorts.
‘There’s a stash hidden behind the sand dunes near our camp,’ Jasper says.
‘Have any of you ever been trained to shoot a dragon from the sky?’ I say coldly.
‘The Bolgoriths are stronger than British dragons. That’s why the poison pouches don’t kill them.
Even with a hundred Speerspitzes, they’ll still be the predator and you the prey.
’ I glare at Jasper. ‘Krasimir is like a rabid dog. If you don’t give up on this ridiculous idea, you’ll have children’s blood on your hands. Philippa’s blood.’
His expression darkens.
‘Go to Sanday,’ I say. ‘Beg Ruth to take you in. You’ll be safe there.’
‘And risk getting shot by a crossbow?’ Freddie says.
‘Better than getting mauled by a dragon, you great prat.’
In one swift movement, Roy grabs Marquis by the throat. I jump from my seat as they stand nose to nose, Roy’s shirt caught in Marquis’s fist.
‘Go on, then,’ Marquis snarls. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’
I take a step towards Roy and a hand grabs my sleeve.
‘Don’t,’ Gideon warns me.
Roy presses his face up against Marquis’s, his eyes bulging.
‘Not this one, Roy,’ Freddie says slowly.
Roy’s lip curls and for a minute I think he isn’t going to listen. But then he lets Marquis go. Neither boy lowers his eyes.
‘Send a group for the Speerspitzes in the dunes, if you must,’ I say quietly as I sit back down. ‘And then go to Sanday. Ruth has the best view of the island. You’ll be able to shoot whatever you want from there.’
A shadow falls across the pews as a dragon flies over the church. Everyone tenses. When the light bursts back in, we wait in silence to be sure it isn’t about to return.
‘That’s if you make it that far,’ Marquis mutters.
‘Why should we let you go?’ Freddie says.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. ‘You heard us arguing in the graveyard, didn’t you? We’re part of a rebel military operation against the Bolgoriths, and if you don’t let us get on with it, I promise you, not all the Speerspitzes in the world will save you.’
Freddie stares at me, then nods.
‘Where will you go?’ Jasper asks.
‘To find Chumana.’
And Atlas, I add silently. He’s not in the fields around the church and when we traipse back through the forest, there’s nothing among the trees but a salty breeze.
‘I reckon they’re all barking mad,’ Marquis says, rubbing the spot where Freddie punched him.
‘That Roy certainly is,’ Serena mutters. ‘Do you think they’ll go to Sanday?’
‘Probably. Jasper lost his pig-headed nerve when Viv mentioned Philippa,’ Marquis replies. ‘Where the hell is Atlas?’
I bite my lip. If Atlas managed to escape Freddie’s group, then why didn’t he wait for us nearby? I think back to our argument and feel a sinking sense of dread. What if he’s right and the wyvern echolocation is the key to winning the war?
We walk for hours, until the sun is high in the sky and we can see the sea. Below us is Canna House and then the bay with the footpath that leads to Wyvernmire’s camp. A huge tent has been erected on the beach, so tall that the top of it is higher than the cliffs.
‘Get down,’ Marquis says, pulling me into the grass as a dragon flies overhead.
We crouch in the purple heather as more of them soar over the beach and back again. Across the fields, at the same height we’re currently at, is the top of Compass Hill. I stare out to sea. Big clouds of black smoke are rising off Rùm.
No.
Horror pricks my skin.
The smoke is further back, coming not from Rùm but from somewhere else.
‘Eigg,’ I say. ‘The Bolgoriths have attacked Eigg.’