A hand shoots up. It belongs to a girl with long fiery red hair and glasses.
‘Please, sir,’ she says, ‘what does DDAD stand for?’
Ravensloe gives her a patronising smile, as if the question is a stupid one. I feel a wave of revulsion for him.
‘Let me rephrase that for you, young lady,’ he replies. ‘Welcome, all of you, to the Department for the Defence Against Dragons.’
The door opens with a bang and two more Guardians march in. Between them is a girl with singed clothes, her blonde hair streaked with dirt.
‘Here’s the last one, sir.’
My heart flutters as I take in the familiar light-footed gait and the red string round the girl’s wrist. I feel the blood drain from my face. The girl looks up.
I stare, my whole body erupting in goosebumps.
Our eyes meet and the girl’s bottom lip trembles.
‘Excellent,’ Ravensloe says. ‘Class, let me introduce you to our last recruit. Her name is—’
‘Sophie,’ the girl says. ‘My name is Sophie.’
I STARE STRAIGHT AHEAD AS Sophie takes the last empty seat. I can sense Marquis trying to get my attention, but I can’t move. My mind feels like it’s spinning out of control. Sophie’s parents told me she’d been missing for weeks. And suddenly she’s here. At the Department for the Defence Against Dragons. On the same day as me.
I’ve barely registered a word of what Ravensloe is saying.
‘The DDAD was set up upon the signing of the Peace Agreement, a precautionary measure to preserve us from a tragedy like the one that took place in Bulgaria …’
I slowly turn my head to glance at Sophie. She’s wearing her favourite blue jumper – the one her mother bought her last Christmas – but the sleeve is blackened and torn. Her fingernails, always so neat and clean, are bitten, and the little silver earrings that used to adorn her ears are gone.
‘. . . gathering intelligence that could help us in the event that we were forced to combat dragons …’
Sophie’s fingers run along the string round her wrist. She doesn’t look at me.
Where has she been all this time? And why does she look like she’s walked through flames? Is she a criminal, too? I jump as Ravensloe’s hand slams on my desk.
‘Vivien Featherswallow, are you quite with us?’
Sophie doesn’t move, but everyone else turns to stare at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Marquis roll his eyes.
‘Yes, sir,’ I say as if we’re at school.
When Ravensloe continues his speech, I look at Marquis.
What is going on?he mouths.
I shake my head and concentrate on Ravensloe.
‘With the government being targeted by rebel dragons and humans alike, the DDAD has suddenly become crucial to the survival of our nation’s values and way of life.’ The Deputy Prime Minister paces the floor. ‘That is why, for many months now, Prime Minister Wyvernmire has been recruiting diamond-sharp minds – strong, healthy people with a specialised skill set, who work well under pressure.’ Ravensloe pauses to look at us. ‘We believe you fit the bill.’
I wait for the polite laughter that usually follows a terrible joke, but none comes. I may work well under pressure – the years leading up to the Examination made sure of that – but a diamond-sharp mind? I’m good at languages, that’s true, but I’m only seventeen. And Marquis? I practically had to beg for him to be here.
‘Each of you have found yourselves in a situation of societal rejection,’ Ravensloe continues. ‘You are all, in one way or another, misfits.’
I flush, surprised at the sudden shame flooding through me.
Misfit.
It’s a sad word, used to describe someone whose behaviour is strange or out of place, someone who disregards the rules. I never imagined it would be used to describeme.
