‘I thought the rebels didn’t have the numbers?’ Marquis breathes.
On the beach, Guardians are loading a line of Speerspitzes under Bulgarian supervision, pointing them at the influx of British dragons. And from somewhere far off comes the distant hum of planes. A Sand Dragon lands next to me.
‘Greetings, recruit,’ Soresten says, bowing his head. ‘We were told we would find the Swallow here.’
‘It’s good to see you, Soresten,’ I say breathlessly.
Someone slides off Soresten’s back. I recognise him only vaguely. He’s the man I saw with Dr Seymour when we landed on Eigg after the Battle of Bletchley, the father of her child. As someone bellows orders and the rebels around us begin to organise themselves, I catch glimpses of other human faces behind folding wings. Arthur Burke from the Academy. Hollingsworth’s driver, Johnstone. A greengrocer from Pimlico. My stomach lurches. George Beecham, who hosted the Pimlico party and . . . Edward? When did he join the Coalition? Is Hyacinth here too? My head snaps back towards the crowd, searching for her face, but someone grabs me by the arm. I spin around.
A skinny figure, long blonde hair and the flash of a red friendship bracelet.
Sophie.
I burst into tears.
‘Viv!’ she says, grinning. ‘What’s the plan?’
She looks different. Her face is rounder and there’s an athletic curve to her body. I stare, slightly stunned, into her bright eyes.
‘Why do you look happy to be here?’ I say through tears.
She laughs as a Speerspitze explodes. ‘Isn’t this what we’ve been training for? Last year we were prisoners, Viv, but now, we’re rebels!’
Her last words are muffled as Marquis pulls her into a hug. Serena turns to say something to me and a flicker of orange is reflected in her eyes.
‘Get down!’ Atlas screams.
Dragonfire rains down on us, so hot that the grass at my feet wilts. A pink veil descends on me as I fling myself to the ground. When I open my eyes I see the paper-thin leather of Chumana’s wing and then Atlas’s face next to mine, his eyes scrunched shut, his arm flung across my back.
‘Serena?’ I scream, and my voice is muffled behind the protective tent of Chumana’s wing.
‘Here,’ Serena says weakly.
The wing lifts and I see her lying in the grass next to Hollingsworth, Sophie and Marquis. Fire rages across the grass, licking up the legs of the dragons and sending the humans running for cover.
‘Where’s Gideon?’ Marquis says.
‘With Aodahn,’ I say as I get to my feet, spotting the wyvern towering over Gideon, his tailed curled protectively around him as a Bolgorith circles.
A hand slips into mine.
Atlas.
There’s a boom as Guardians fire the Speerspitzes below. I look at him. He stares back.
He might as well be a stranger.
Chumana lets out a scream and she and Daria rise to meet the Bolgoriths as they attack. The sky is crammed with dragons and I stay low as I spot a massive black dragon flying over the hills in an erratic manner, rising high before swooping low, the left half of its body dragging on the wind.
‘Is that Goranov?’ Serena says.
‘And Ralph,’ Atlas says grimly.
As Goranov gets closer, I see Ralph on his back, nestled like a parasite between the dragon’s wings. Guttural screams echo from the beach as Bolgoriths swoop down on the rebels. Metallic clangs ring out as scale meets scale. There’s a flash of pink. Chumana and Daria crash back across the hillside, entangled with a third dragon. We duck again, pressing ourselves to the ground as the dragons tumble over the edge and into the air. I see Western Drakes, Sand Dragons, Ddraig Gochs and even several Silver Drakes battling the Bolgoriths.
‘I can’t see Krasimir,’ I shout to the others. ‘We need to draw him out here!’
Hollingsworth’s eyes meet mine and she nods in silent agreement.
