‘Of course you will be different. This war will shape you, human girl. But this is not the first time you have remade yourself. And it will not be the last.’
I sniff, my eyes on the pitiful, bloody knife on the ground.
‘If you choose to dig that bullet out of me when I’m gone, be sure to use a better blade. We both know we cannot count on your teeth.’
I smile at the old joke and for a moment I’m back with one of my old selves, the frightened, confused, angry little girl who was about to release a criminal dragon and begin a war. Then I look down at the familiar, spiked face and realise I can’t feel her breath on my skin any more.
‘Chumana?’
The golden orbs close.
The cries of battle carry from the other side of the cliff and I know I cannot stay. I feel a tender ache in my throat. A series of sharp pains in my chest threaten to crack me open.
‘But I love you,’ I whisper, biting back sobs. ‘I love you, so you can’t leave.’
I stare at the tremendous creature who deigned to make a deal with me, who flew across the sea to find me, who sat with me in a watery ditch and told me I was worthy of a second chance. She glows pink-orange in the sunset. Fiery, even in death. I plant a kiss on Chumana’s warm snout as a flight of swallows dip and dance above us.
I stand up, my most recent memories of her flooding my mind. Flying with her in the sunrise. Watching her burn Wyvernmire’s camp to free me. Lying next to her in the sugar house, my unlikely roommate, her presence a path of light through the darkness of my nightmares.
‘You once had the honour of being like her,’ I murmur to the birds. ‘Watch over her. She’s not used to sleeping alone.’
A HIGH CHIRRUP.
A chatter.
A dracovol zips around my head, fluttering its wings and breathing out a puff of grey smoke.
It lands on my shoulder and I jump as I see someone walking towards me. Her hair is gold in the sunlight and her eyes linger on the dead dragon behind me.
‘Ruth?’ I say.
‘This way,’ she tells me, beckoning towards the sea.
I follow her. ‘How did you know I was here?’
‘Atlas.’
‘Atlas?’
We reach a series of rocks just out of reach of the waves and Ruth crouches down. ‘In here.’
I frown, peering closer, and she disappears between the rocks. The dracovol follows her. I drop to my knees and look down. What I thought was a small pool is actually a hole. I siton the low rock, dangle my legs over the edge of the sandy tunnel and jump down. It’s a short drop and when I stand up I’m in a dark but wide space.
‘Ruth?’ I whisper.
There’s the sound of a match striking and then a small flame fizzes to life. Ruth lights a lamp and lifts it up to my face. Atlas is standing beside her and behind them, the walls are covered in faded tweed.
‘Viv!’ Atlas says, grasping me by the shoulders. ‘I saw you fall. I thought . . . I thought . . .’ His eyes land on my bleeding arm. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ I say, but my voice breaks. ‘What are you both doing here? Where are we?’
‘Abandoned wyvern tunnels,’ Ruth says.
‘They go all the way to Sanday,’ Atlas tells me.
‘Across the whole island, actually,’ Ruth says.
I stare at her. ‘These tunnels are how you get around?’
