The voice gives way to more crackles, then nothing.
‘Species segregation?’ I say slowly.
I’ve never heard the term before. I imagine the rebels swooping into London on dragonback and stealing documents from the Academy. Is the government really so afraid of rebellion that it would limit the study of dragon tongues in this way? Fear clutches at my heart. What will happen when I go home? Will the university refuse tore-enrol me because I’m not First Class?
‘She did that quietly, didn’t she?’ Marquis says grimly.
He’s referring to Wyvernmire – and he’s not wrong. The vetting process my family and I underwent after I applied to study dragon tongues was kept secret, and now Wyvernmire has sprung these further restrictions on the country without a word of warning. Banning the speaking of Dragonese? Why would the very woman who seemed so impressed by my knowledge of dragon tongues make such a law?
‘One of the most important steps in a coup is to gain control of the media,’ Gideon says, leaning forward in his chair. ‘Those rebels are just trying to make people believe they haven’t committed any crimes.’
‘So youdon’tthink Wyvernmire’s gatekeeping dragon tongues?’ I say hopefully.
Gideon shrugs. ‘The more the rebel humans and dragons can communicate, the better chance they have of winning the war. So maybe she is.’ He glances at me. ‘Like I said, I bet the rebel dragons don’t mind the humans learning their languages for now, if they’re going to wipe us all out when—’
‘Talking nonsense again, are you, Gideon?’
Atlas is leaning against the doorframe, wearing a red suit and black tie. The stubble on his jaw is darker, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him without the white collar. He winks at me, his eyes lingering on my dress. My hands reach up to smooth my hair before I can stop them.
‘It’s not nonsense,’ Gideon says angrily. ‘Why do youthink Wyvernmire’s fighting them so hard? She’s protecting us from the bestial nature of dragons, from what happened in Bulgaria—’
‘What happened in Bulgaria was the revenge of hundreds of angry dragons, fuelled by the response to the colonisation of the wyvern community, the dragon fighting rings and the mass kidnapping of eggs and dragonlings.’
‘You’re saying the Bulgarian humans deserved to get murdered?’ Gideon says, his eyes narrowing.
My gaze flits to Atlas.
‘I’m saying,’ Atlas says pointedly, ‘that when you oppress a community for centuries you can’t exactly be surprised when it rises up against you.’
‘Butwe’renot oppressing any dragons,’ I say. ‘Theyagreedto the Peace Agreement. The Dragon Queen signed it herself. She—’
‘The Dragon Queen signed it,’ Atlas says, ‘but the thousands of dragons of Britannia did not. That’s the same as saying that Wyvernmire speaks for every individual in this country.’ He stares at me. ‘I don’t know about you, but I don’t remember giving my consent for this so-called Peace Agreement.’
Marquis gives me an uncomfortable glance and I realise they’re waiting for me to reply. I think of what Wyvernmire said when I met her at Highfall Prison, about entrusting the study of dragon tongues only to citizens the government knows to be loyal. My heart sinks. Of course the rebel report must be true. Wyvernmire said herself that she fears languages will allow the rebel dragons and humans tocollaborate further. They’re probably what got my parents involved in the first place.
‘It must be part of her strategy,’ I say quickly. ‘And, once we’ve won the war, everything will go back to normal and people will be able to study and speak dragon tongues again.’
Atlas gives me a glance that resembles pity.
When the others join us, Owen escorts us through the dark hallways to a wing I haven’t been in before. Laughing voices ring along a corridor and we follow it to a door with light pouring out from beneath it. Owen pushes it open and the noise explodes.
The ballroom stretches out in front of us, a sea of glittering bodies gathered beneath crystal chandeliers. Moulded ceilings rise high above the marble fireplaces and a vast mirror reflects the scene of more people than I’ve laid eyes on in months. Women in beaded dresses gasp as a butler on a stepladder pours a rush of champagne into a pyramid of glasses, then ooh as it cascades down into the coupes below. There’s a huge Christmas tree decked with candles and beads, a small orchestra and a singer with a harp. Her voice fills every corner of the space, languid and dizzying. Heads turn as we edge into the room and I feel Marquis move closer to me.
Dr Seymour is walking towards us in a long red dress. She looks dazzling. The other category leaders join her in ushering us into the room, and Lumens whisks Atlas and Dodie away to meet a tall, important-looking man.
‘Don’t be shy,’ Dr Seymour says to Marquis and me. ‘Allthese people are desperate to meet you.’
I glance at my cousin, whose face mirrors my own confusion. Desperate to meetus? I follow Dr Seymour, horribly aware of my every movement, and when I’m offered a glass of champagne I almost grab it from the tray, just to have something to do.
‘Who are all these people?’ I say to Dr Seymour, taking a sip of my drink.
I watch as Sophie and Serena are beckoned away by a group of smiling young men, and Karim is pulled into the twinkling light of the Christmas tree by an elderly woman who bears him like a trophy to her friends.
‘Supporters of the war effort,’ Dr Seymour says after some hesitation. ‘That man with the moustache, the one talking to Knott, is the German Secretary of Defence. Next to him, the woman in the silver silk, is our Minister for Education.’ Dr Seymour pauses. ‘And that woman there is the Chancellor of the Academy for Draconic Linguistics.’
I smother a gasp and look where Dr Seymour is pointing. Standing next to the baby grand piano, her silver hair coiffed into a neat bob and rings glittering on every finger, is Dr Hollingsworth. I lay a hand on Marquis’s arm as his face turns red.
‘You can’t,’ I say to him because I already know what he’s thinking.
