I feel my lip curl. The last time I saw her, she had just let Atlas bleed out on to the forest floor. Hatred bubbles inside me, snaking through my veins like poison. Nobody moves. The maintenance workers are cowering beneath the plane, their eyes on the smoke escaping Goranov’s nostrils. I glance up at the cockpit. I don’t have a choice. I know it and Wyvernmire knows it too. I can board the plane with her or be burned up by Goranov.
I walk calmly towards her, even though the heatsmouldering off Goranov’s scales warns me to run. Because I have to convince her, too. Wyvernmire might not be a dragon, but she’s a monster, nonetheless. When I reach her, she gestures a bony hand up the steps. I hold her gaze.
‘Where will it take me?’ I ask coldly. ‘Bulgaria?’
‘I’ve seen enough Bolgoriths for one day, haven’t you?’ Wyvernmire replies with a smirk. ‘Besides . . . I think the Swallow will be of far more use to me on Canna.’
THE PLANE RATTLES AS IT HURTLES down the runway. I stare out of the window at Goranov’s hulking figure and marvel at the fact that I’m still alive.
And that I’m aboard a plane to Canna.
Wyvernmire sits in the row of seats across the aisle, watching me. ‘I’ll admit I’m surprised to see you.’
I feel my face flush hot as the sound of her voice brings more flashbacks – the dragon blood across her face, Atlas’s hand in mine, the cool orders she gave as he lay dying. I want to close my eyes and forget but I can’t, because here she is in front of me, her face like porcelain, that vulgar dragon’s talon brooch pinned to her breast.
‘Likewise.’ I glower. ‘Shouldn’t you and Goranov be off building a nest somewhere?’
I sound like a petulant child, but I can’t help it. I hate her.
‘You’ve joined the rebellion,’ she says flatly.
I don’t reply. The plane vibrates as it lifts into the air.
‘What use have they foryou?’ she asks. ‘Aside from having you author those silly pamphlets?’
‘Recruiting,’ I lie. ‘Rallying sympathisers for the cause.’
‘And who do you take orders from? Serge Hammond in North London? Ava Richmond in Kent? Tommy Coin in Manchester?’
‘I – I don’t know,’ I stutter. ‘There was a long chain of command. They never told me who was at the top.’
Wyvernmire glances out of the window. ‘The rebel leaders are unanimous in their determination to keep secret the identity of their faceless patriarch.’ She lets out a bitter sigh. ‘Such a waste of talent you are.’
‘Why are we going to Canna?’ I ask.
‘I plan to finish the war there. Mainland Scotland still belongs to the rebels, and the neighbouring island of Eigg is home to the headquarters of the Human-Dragon Coalition.’ Wyvernmire smiles. ‘The female Grey Wyvern often lies with her enemies before killing them. Did you know that?’
I jump at the mention of wyverns. All this time I’ve been desperate for Hollingsworth to send me to Canna, but now Wyvernmire is the one taking me there. Does she know about the Hebridean Wyverns? Does she know the rebels are looking for them?
‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ I say coolly. ‘You’re not worthy of your dragon-descended name.’
She smiles again. ‘General Goranov disagrees.’
‘You think you’re in power,’ I say slowly, ‘setting up camp near Eigg so you can defeat the rebels, but what if Goranov is letting you fly to Canna because the Bolgorithswant you out of the capital?’
‘Letting me?’ Wyvernmire gives a girlish laugh. ‘I know you believe that the Bulgarian dragons only came to my aid in order to tempt and entrap me, Vivien. And Bulgaria is powerful, of course, but the rest of Europe is human-run. If the Bulgarian Bolgoriths want to regain respect and legitimacy in the eyes of their neighbouring countries, they need the support of powerful humans. The support of the Empire.’
My heart sinks.
‘Besides,’ Wyvernmire says as clouds gather at the windows. ‘If Goranovisplotting against me, then you might prove useful indeed.’
I frown.
What does she mean?
‘It is outlandishly fortunate that you appeared on the airfield at the very moment I was preparing to fly to Canna. Some might call it suspiciously convenient. But I know the rebels would never have sent you to me. Like you told Goranov . . . you are their greatest asset.’
Her green eyes flash dangerously.
