‘It’s pitch-black, Atlas.’
I hear him close the book and we lie quietly, listeningto the sound of everyone breathing.
‘Featherswallow?’ Atlas whispers.
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry for not telling you I’m with the Coalition.’
I don’t say anything until I hear him sigh.
‘Forget about it,’ I say. ‘Now I think about it, it was pretty obvious.’
How didn’t I suspect him straight away?
‘So how did you get here?’ I say quietly. ‘Did you commit a crime on purpose to get yourself sent to the DDAD?’
‘No,’ Atlas replies. ‘Father David and I were smuggling wanted rebels to hideaways in the countryside. Some Guardians found one of them hidden in our church, and I was arrested.’
‘What about Father David?’
‘The Guardians killed him.’
Horror prickles at my scalp.
Atlas clears his throat. ‘I managed to send a message to the Coalition before I was arrested, and the next thing I knew Dr Seymour was in my prison cell, recruiting me for a government programme.’
‘Did you know who she was?’ I ask.
‘No. But she told me, discreetly, during the interview. To have two rebels inside Bletchley was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so the Coalition jumped at the chance.
So Dr Seymour and Atlas have been working together all this time.
‘What about you?’ Atlas whispers. ‘Did you really release … a criminal dragon?’
‘To save my parents, yes.’
‘Did you know that they were with the Coalition?’
I shake my head, then realise he can’t see me in the dark. ‘No. They were undercover, I suppose. Like you.’
‘And now … don’t you want to help them?’
‘Iamhelping them,’ I say. ‘If I give Wyvernmire the code, she’ll pardon them.’
‘And you believe that?’
I don’t reply. A few days ago, I would have said yes. But since our meeting in her office I’m not so sure.
‘I’m tired of making decisions, Atlas,’ I whisper. ‘Tired of making the wrong ones.’
Tears fill my eyes and I blink them away. I know what Atlas wants me to say. That I’ll follow in my parents’ footsteps and become a rebel, that I’ll never give Wyvernmire the code. My throat aches with the sudden tears.
‘I’ve hurt people I love before,’ I say slowly. ‘I never want to do that again.’
‘What do you mean?’ Atlas says, his voice softening. ‘What did you do?’
My face burns and I’m glad he can’t see it. The floor creaks as he moves closer to me, shuffling into the space between me and the bookcases.
