‘A dracovol.’
The creature doesn’t land. Instead, it flies at Gideon, who shouts and bats at it with his hands.
‘Stop it, you idiot!’ I shout.
The dracovol drops a package at Gideon’s feet before zipping away.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ I hiss.
‘I thought it was attacking me,’ Gideon mutters.
‘Do you often get attacked by postal workers, Gideon?’ Marquis scoffs.
‘Wait,’ Atlas says as Gideon kneels down by the package. ‘There could be anything inside.’
We all stare at it. It’s large and wrapped in brown paper.
Gideon’s eyes grow wide. ‘You think it could be a bomb?’
‘The person sending it would have to be in possession of something belonging to Gideon for the dracovol to scent,’ I say. ‘You haven’t had tea with Wyvernmire lately, have you Gideon?’
He shakes his head and pulls the brown paper away. His shoulders slump. ‘It’s a book.’
I peer over his shoulder and feel a jump of recognition. It’s not a book.
‘It’s a journal!’ I say. ‘Clawtail’s journal. Hollingsworth must have sent it.’
Gideon frowns. ‘But why did she send it tome?’
I flick through the journal, relief filling me. Hollingsworth, despite being a liar, hasn’t abandoned me completely. A piece of paper pokes out of the top of the journal and I slip it out.
Some Eigg dragons inform me that Clawtail’s friends have an interest in Skrill-type20. If you walk in a straight line from Trill-type30 with the colourful Screech-type2 to the Skye side of the island, you might find them.
Good luck,
Dr Seymour
‘Dr Seymour?’ I say.
Gideon shrugs. ‘I had a room back on Eigg. She must have taken something for the dracovol to scent, as she didn’t have any of your belongings.’
‘How silly of me to thinkthe Chancellormight be the one helping us,’ I mutter under my breath. I look to Gideon. ‘Can you remember what Skrill-type20 means?’
He bows his head, thinking, as the others watch us.
‘She’s using echolocation calls as a code?’ Atlas says.
I nod as I try to recall our time in the glasshouse, beforewe destroyed all the translations we made of the dragons’ echolocation calls.
‘Man-made affairs?’ Gideon offers. ‘The wyverns have an interest in man-made affairs?’
‘Not affairs,’ I say. ‘Buildings. Don’t you remember Soresten once ordering a patrol around all the buildings at Bletchley Park? He used a Skrill-type20, I’m sure of it.’ I run my eyes down the note again. ‘And Trill-type30 meanschurch. Bletchley town had two.’ I glance at Atlas. ‘But are there churches on Canna?’
‘Three, actually,’ Gideon replies. ‘Screech-type2 meansglass. That’s how the Bletchley dragons used to refer to the glasshouse. Only one of the Canna churches has stained glass. It’s a few miles from here.’
I look at the pages the note was pressed between. Clawtail drew a map of Canna across them, one that I studied countless times back in London. I notice a tiny cross. Directly opposite it, on the Skye side of the island, is nothing but hills and rivers.
‘That’s the Stepstones,’ Gideon says, pointing to the spot on the map. ‘It’s used as an alternative nesting spot to Rùm. It’s quieter.’
