‘Get off me,’ I spit, but the Guardian kicks my legs out from beneath me and lies me at Ralph’s feet, pinning me by my shoulders.
He kneels down to my level and reaches towards me. I try to kick out, but another Guardian grabs my legs. Ralph lifts the sleeve of my jacket and shirt. He looks to the Guardian. ‘Hold her still.’
‘I’ll kill you!’ Atlas roars.
The knife cuts into my arm and I scream. Tears and pain blur my vision as I arch my back, but moving my arm is impossible. Ralph drags the blade along my skin and I scream again, nausea rising up inside me as I clench my eyes shut.
‘I have information about the dragon eggs!’ comes Atlas’s muffled voice. ‘Please, just stop hurting her!’
Ralph lifts the knife and I feel the cool tip at my wrist.
‘All she has to do is give us the code,’ Ravensloe says. ‘Will you do that, recruit?’
I keep my eyes shut, the dim light shining pink through my eyelids. I hear the door creak open and a gasp of surprise.
‘Prime Minister Wyvernmire,’ Ravensloe says. ‘I wasn’t expecting a visit tonight.’
The knife tip disappears. My eyes fly open. Wyvernmire is standing in the doorway, dressed in a long green coat, her dragon’s talon brooch gleaming at her throat.
‘Whyever would that be?’ Wyvernmire says sharply. Lines furrow deep across her brow, as if the past few days have aged her. ‘Did you expect me to sit in my rooms while you obtained crucial information?’
Ralph is still kneeling over me, staring up at his aunt like a little boy caught doing something bad.
‘They were found sabotaging the contents of the glasshouse,’ he says. ‘You said to use any means necessary, Prime Minister.’
‘Indeed I did,’ Wyvernmire replies, her gaze finally falling on me.
I stare back at her, and for a brief moment I hope to see atrace of the woman who told me we were alike. But her face betrays not a trace of emotion.
‘Except that is not the girl you will be torturing.’
Ralph stands up. ‘No?’
‘No,’ Wyvernmire says.
She moves aside with a swish of her coat to reveal a small, trembling figure behind her.
‘This is.’
I sit up, my whole body screaming in horror. The child stares at me, recognition flashing in her golden eyes. Then she stretches out her arms towards me and lets out a deep, desperate moan.
Ursa.
SOMEONE IS SCREAMING, AND I don’t realise the voice is my own until Ursa barrels into my arms. No one moves to restrain us and for a blissful moment, as I press my lips to Ursa’s cold cheek and breathe in the smell of her hair, everything around us falls away. My sister’s tiny body shakes with silent sobs.
‘Shh, little bear,’ I whisper into her ear. ‘I’ve got you. You’re safe.’
I’m surprised at how easily the lie comes. Perhaps it’s because I know that I’ll do everything in my power to make it true. Ursa burrows into me, her hands clutching at my hair, her dirty shoes pressing on to my thighs as if the ground is on fire. I scoop her up like a baby and hold her close as I stand up. Over the top of her head, Wyvernmire’s face comes into focus. My chest fills with fire as I recall her words. Torture my sister?
Over my dead body.
The Guardians have pulled Atlas and Dr Seymour totheir feet and Wyvernmire surveys them with barely a hint of interest.
‘What a disappointment you have all been,’ she says. She turns back to me. ‘You will provide me with the code, and all of its possible variations, immediately. Refuse, and Guardian 707 will continue his barbarous techniques on the child.’
Terror prickles my skin. Wyvernmire nods at a Guardian, who steps forward and pulls Ursa from my arms.
‘No!’ I scream as Ursa clings to my neck. ‘Please don’t take her again. Just—’
