‘Something about prey,’ I say as I concentrate on the sounds. ‘There’s a Trill-type42 . . . I think that meansunfamiliaror maybeforeign. And then . . . something about forces or fliers or—’
The door behind Ralph slams open and he spins around, lifting his gun.
‘Get away from her,’ Atlas spits.
I rip the headphones off my ears.
‘Take another step, King,’ Ralph snarls, ‘and I’ll shoot you again.’
I feel the colour drain from my face. On either side of Atlas, Serena and Marquis are pointing their own weapons. I stand up with the loquisonus machine in my arms.
‘Stay where you are,’ Ralph barks at me, his eyes still on Atlas.
‘Viv, walk towards me,’ Atlas says.
Ralph swings his gun around and points it at me. Atlas’s jaw tenses.
‘Keep the machine, Wyvernmire,’ Marquis says. ‘We only want Viv.’
‘It’s useless without her,’ Ralph snaps.
I can feel sweat beading on my skin. I know just how capable Ralph is of firing that gun.
I slip the machine into the case. ‘Andronikos will help you,’ I say, holding it out to him. ‘Have it, and let us go.’
‘No!’ Atlas says. ‘Don’t give it to him.’
‘What are you on about?’ Marquis says. He looks at me. ‘Leave the machine, we don’t have time for this!’
I drop the loquisonus at Ralph’s feet and walk slowly towards the others. Ralph won’t shoot me if he thinks I’m the only one who can translate the Koinamens for him, but Marquis keeps his gun raised all the same.
‘We’re going to close the door now,’ Serena tells Ralph as I reach them.
I back out into the hallway where Gideon is waiting.
‘One,’ she says.
Marquis keeps his gun on Ralph.
‘Two.’
Ralph scowls.
‘Three.’
Atlas dives through the door into the nursery with his arm outstretched. Ralph shouts and his gun goes off, the bullet burrowing a hole into the wall.
‘Atlas!’ Marquis screams.
Atlas stumbles back towards us, the loquisonus machine case flung over his shoulder. We run for the staircase and my feet barely skim the top step. I’m vaguely aware of the others behind me as Ralph shoots again and then there’s grass beneath my feet. Guardians in white suits turn towards us as we race down the garden path into the fields and Serena shrieks as more bullets blow up pieces of grass around us. Sheep scatter as we run upwards, the land sloping invisibly beneath the thistles and ferns.
‘We’ll never outrun them,’ Gideon wheezes.
Atlas’s hand slips into mine as we charge past a second herd of sheep. When I look over my shoulder, the herd has moved so that the Guardians have to run straight through. They’re forced to slow, to swerve between the grazing sheep. There’s a flash of blue amid the woolly white coats.
Wings erupt from the herd and a juvenile Western Drake emerges from its hiding place, snapping up the first Guardian with one jerk of its head. I see his body break in the dragon’s jaws, see its talons rake the back of another Guardian’s suit, piercing his bulletproof vest as if it were made of gauze.
The ground drops out from beneath me and suddenlywe’re falling, down the side of a ditch as Atlas’s hand is tugged from mine. Pain radiates through my shoulders as I hit the bottom. I spit out a mouthful of leaves and look up. Atlas and Serena are beside me and Marquis and Gideon are scrambling down the slope and into the forest where we’ve landed. Up on the hillside, the Western Drake roars.
