‘Well, what about turning them anticlockwise every full moon?’
‘I’ve tried that, too, sir. I’ve also bathed them in saltwater, like you suggested.’
He’s a good liar.
‘Very well,’ Lumens says. ‘In that case, I believe we have no choice but to have them fostered.’
‘Fostered, sir?’
‘By a dragon,’ says Lumens.
Atlas stands up. ‘What dragon will agree to foster eggs that Prime Minister Wyvernmire has … that were stolen?’
‘The Prime Minister seems to think that a criminal dragon, one that is imprisoned, might be convinced—’
‘That won’t work, either,’ I say and they both spin round.
‘Recruit Featherswallow?’ Professor Lumens’s eyes widen in surprise. ‘What are you doing down here?’
‘You can’t threaten a dragon into caring for those eggs,’ I say. ‘Trust me.’
To do so, Wyvernmire would have to force the dragon to echolocate to the eggs to make them hatch. And, to ensure that happened, she’d have to have someone sit day and night with the dragon. Someone with a loquisonus machine. Someone fluent in that particular dragon’s Koinamens dialect, someone who could understand the exact calls needed to hatch a dragonling, who could raise the alarm if the dragon echolocated something different. Or refused to echolocate at all.
The odds of that happening in the next two days are zero to none.
‘I must insist you leave,’ Lumens says sharply. ‘This is highly unusual—’
‘Actually, Professor,’ Atlas says, ‘Vivien has been down here before.’
Vivien.
I startle at the sound of my full name, the one only used by teachers and my parents. What happened toViv, toFeatherswallow?Atlas looks at me, his eyes full of hurt.
He got my note, then.
‘Down here before?’ Lumens looks from Atlas to me, aghast. ‘The confidentiality of the programme must be respected, even among yourselves—’
There’s a squawk from the far end of the room. I peer down into the dimness and see the shapes of three young dragons, now slightly larger than dracovols.
‘How long have you been studying dragons, Professor Lumens?’ I say.
‘Thirty years, a number entirely irrelevant to this conversation,’ Lumens replies.
‘I assume your studies took you all round the world, before the Travel Ban?’ I say. ‘My parents’ research took them to Europe, to the Americas, to Albania—’
‘Your parents?’
I nod. ‘John and Helina Featherswallow.’
Surprise shines in his eyes. ‘I had no idea,’ he says. ‘Your parents are hugely respected dragon anthropologists, experts in their fields. I was shocked to read in the papers about their—’
‘Rebellion?’ I say.
Lumens looks uncomfortable.
‘So was I.’
Atlas is watching me curiously.
