If it’s a rebel Hollingsworth wants, a rebel she shall get.
ONE OF THE PERKS OF BEING Penelope Hollingsworth is that I can commandeer any of the Chancellor’s cars, which are driven by her most loyal Guardians. They have no idea the woman they serve is secretly the leader of the Human-Dragon Coalition. At nightfall I say goodbye to Dr Hollingsworth, but she barely looks up from her desk as she mutters to herself from inside a cloud of cigarette smoke. The Guardian in the driving seat of the motorcar gives me a nod and a smile when I slide on to the back seat, the leather cold against my legs.
‘Out to dine, Miss Hollingsworth?’ he says as the engine roars to life.
‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘Churton Street please, Johnstone.’
My heart flutters in my chest, but Johnstone doesn’t flinch at the fact that I’m out after curfew.
Clearly, the latest restrictions don’t apply to the First Class.
Hyacinth’s friend George lives in the top half of Pimlico – First Class and bordered by Belgravia and Westminster –while I live in the bottom half, closest to the Thames. The car drives through the streets of London, past Hyde Park where Guardians and dragons are lifting some sort of statue from a lorry in the dusk. I peer out of the window as an Irish Basilisk hoists the gleaming white stone on to his back and wonder if he’s workingwiththe Guardians orforthem. The difference is crucial when you’re a dragon. We pass by countless Underground stations and I think about how I could easily step on to a train and ride it all the way to Highfall Prison, where my parents and uncle are still being held. But Hollingsworth has made me promise not to. She says the only thing keeping my parents alive is Wyvernmire’s hope that I’ll go looking for them.
The Prime Minister’s lies about me have spread among her Guardians and politicians, and the general public might soon start believing them, too. That the Human-Dragon Coalition is working with a young translator who is against Britannia and against peace, a translator who will use her Draconic tongues to help the dragons take over.
Thanks to Wyvernmire,Iam London’s most wanted rebel.
I slip a small, square photograph out of my pocket. Ursa’s round, rosy face, framed by blonde pigtails, stares back at me. A gift from Dr Hollingsworth, stolen from the government’s files on my family. I’ve already kissed the glossiness of the paper away.
We come to a stop outside a house flanked by stone pillars. I spot Hyacinth and her brother, Edward, outside. I know Edward well enough now, although he was suspicious of me when Hy told him I was Dr Hollingsworth’s niece. I don’t thinkhe entirely believes it, but if that’s the case, then surely seeing me arrive in a Guardian car will convince him of my lie. And lie I must, even though it bothers me to deceive them both. If anyone were to find out that the Chancellor’s assistant was a rebel, the scandal would be huge and Hollingsworth’s true identity as the leader of the Coalition would be uncovered.
‘Thank you, Johnstone,’ I say. ‘No need to wait.’
‘Pen?’ Hyacinth sings. ‘Oh my goodness, you came!’
I force a smile and stop myself from pulling awkwardly at my skirt. It’s plain next to the pink satin dress Hyacinth is wearing.
‘Evening, Penelope,’ Edward says uncomfortably.
He’s wearing a gold watch and a pinstriped suit in an unflattering shade of yellow. His hair is the same pale blond as his sister’s and his eyes are too wide apart. A single paintbrush pokes out of his breast pocket.
‘He fancies himself a starving artist,’ Hyacinth joked to me a few days ago. ‘That’s why he dresses like the Third Class.’
I didn’t bother telling her that the Third Class don’t wear suits. I’ve snuck out to meet with Hyacinth before, but she doesn’t know I’ve been doing the same with her brother. She doesn’t know I’ve been meeting him after dark.
‘No roommate?’ she asks casually.
I hesitate. ‘No. She’s not really the party type.’
We ring the doorbell and a maid answers. There’s barely time to stuff our class passes into the pockets of our coats before they’re taken away.
‘Ready to meet some friends, Penelope?’ Hyacinth says. She taps my nose with her perfectly manicured finger.‘You are going to bequitepopular.’
The maid leads us through a quiet hallway lit with old gas lamps. A grandfather clock stands tall and imposing on the panelled wall and the maid pushes open the door beside it. Music erupts into the hallway as Hyacinth takes me by the hand and leads me inside. Heads turn to look at us through clouds of cigarette smoke and modernity contrasts with the hallway we just came from: a chandelier gives out pretty, electric light and several girls are sprawled across the green velvet sofas, all bare arms and long legs.
‘Hyacinth, darling!’ one of them screeches.
Two young men, playing cards with roll-ups smoking in their mouths, look up at the sound of Hyacinth’s name. Before I know it she’s kissing the girls and they are kissing me, pressing their sticky lips to my cheek and asking my name, their skin carrying the warm scent of champagne and expensive perfume. I’d never spent much time with the First Class before I met Dr Hollingsworth and Hyacinth – unless sharing a dorm with Serena at Bletchley counts – but now I find myself surrounded by them. I catch Edward’s gaze and he rolls his eyes. His sister evidently insisted onhispresence tonight, too.
‘Penelope is a colleague of mine,’ Hyacinth says.
‘Oh, another secretary,’ one of the girls giggles.
‘Niece to the Chancellor of the Academy for Draconic Linguistics, actually,’ Hyacinth replies, her seductive gaze suddenly cold.
The girl sinks back down into her seat and I offer her an apologetic smile. Hyacinth, I know, only has a job because shewants one. As a First Class heiress to her father’s successful printing business, her future is that of the wife to an equally wealthy First Class man. But for now, at least, she seems to like pretending otherwise.
A boy with tousled hair strides towards us and Hyacinth allows him to kiss her cheek, too. I feel myself blush – I had no idea so much physical contact was normal among the First Class. The boy offers me his hand and I shake it.
