She disappears behind one of the tall reperisonus machinesand I follow her. Behind the machine and the mess of wires, one of the panels of the glasshouse is open like a window. Dr Seymour steps out of it, the envelope clutched to her chest. Then she closes the panel and disappears into the forest. I meet Sophie’s gaze. She has one hand on the loquisonus, the other pulling nervously at her brooch. A dragon in a net. If I told Wyvernmire that Sophie helped me crack the code, would she even believe me?
‘I’m going out there, too,’ I say. ‘To find the library dragon and ask her to help us.’
She nods.
I run past the sonar blockers, deeper into the forest, past where Chumana found me last time. The ground gets steeper here and suddenly I’m climbing uphill, tripping over broken branches and piles of leaves. Dr Seymour’s question plays in my mind on repeat.
Do you intend on giving Wyvernmire this first dialect?
I stop, snatching a breath, before slipping through the barbed-wire fencing separating Bletchley Park territory from the farming fields beyond, so far deep in the forest that it’s not even patrolled. My feet trip on something heavy, sending it rolling loudly across the frozen dirt. A Guardian helmet. I stop. Just beyond the felled trunk of a tree is a pile of bodies, their uniforms glinting beneath the packed snow. The Guardians who heard Atlas break the Official Secrets Act after Dodie was killed. They didn’t go home for Christmas. I stifle a sob and clench my eyes shut, terrified that I might see a lock of long red hair.
I keep climbing, pushing through the forest until I comeout the other side into a grassy field. There it is, the ditch Chumana brought me to. I peer over the edge. It’s empty, save for the dragon skin and several puddles of water from the melted snow. Chumana is gone.
Of course she is, idiot. You all but told her to get lost.
I slide down into the ditch anyway, plastering my boots and trousers with mud. The air smells of fresh earth and chimney smoke. I crouch next to the dragon skin and sob. I can’t bear to lose Ursa or the rest of my family. And the only way to save them is to give up Atlas and Sophie, the rebels and possibly the whole United Kingdom. So that’s what I’m going to do.
Atlas is wrong. Iwasborn bad. No matter how hard I try, I can’t bring myself to make therightdecision. Not if it comes at a personal cost. I’m not brave enough, not selfless enough. And I’ve made too many mistakes to go back now.
‘To what do I owe the pleasure, human girl?’
Chumana towers over the ditch, her tail extending halfway round it. She crawls down towards me.
I sniff. ‘You’re still here.’
‘I had a feeling you would be back.’
I brush the tears from my face. ‘I need your help getting some people out of Bletchley Park.’
‘You needmyhelp?’ she purrs. ‘Again?’
‘It’s not too much to ask, is it?’ I say dryly. ‘You and Dr Seymour must be used to working together now.’
‘Indeed we are,’ Chumana says. ‘And you should be glad of it – I might possibly have killed you if it wasn’t for that boy.’
‘Boy?’
‘Atlas,’ she hisses gently.
‘You’ve met Atlas?’
‘Yes. He must have known you would aggravate me. His patience with you is astounding.’
My mind races. Atlas has been visiting Chumana? He never mentioned her, even after he admitted to being a rebel, even after I told him I freed a criminal dragon who broke the Peace Agreement. He must know Chumanaisthat dragon.
He doesn’t trust me. My heart sinks and the truth appears before my eyes with such clarity that I can’t believe I didn’t see it. Last night’s promises that Sophie would one day forgive me, that stuff about God calling him, the kissing … It was all an act to make sure I don’t give Wyvernmire the code. I blink away more burning tears. How could I have believed Atlas could actually have feelings for someone like me? How could I have dared hope to be forgiven for the unforgivable?
‘Have you given Wyvernmire the secrets to my ancestral language yet?’
I will myself not to cry. ‘Not yet.’
‘Even though the Bulgarian dragons are set to arrive?’
I look up. ‘How do you know?’
‘I’ve been listening.’
‘Dr Seymour just sent word to the rest of your … to the rebels.’
