I tripped over my words. I needed to make him see what was so obvious to me now. He took a large gulp of his brandy and was silent.

“It’s like when a caterpillar turns into a butterfly. Or when a tadpole turns into a frog!” A deep crease had now formed between Mr. Darwin’s eyes, but I had to finish. “The dragon is a species that hatches without wings. They must develop later, sir, maybe only when they are fully grown. And at some point their color will change from green to gold. Look.” I pointed to Farthing’s scales, but the sun must have disappeared behind a cloud because even I couldn’t see the shining glint anymore.

Mr. Darwin peered at Farthing and shook his head very slightly.

“You are suggesting these lizards will undergo a … metamorphosis? And become dragons?”

“Yes! Why not?” I said, my heart leaping in my chest.

“Because aside from everything else, they are reptiles, Covington. Reptiles do not undergo metamorphosis.”

“And mammals don’t fly, but look at bats!” I was speaking rudely, but it couldn’t be helped.

Mr. Darwin sighed and rubbed his temples.

“This must bring back a lot of memories for you, my dear fellow”—he sipped his brandy and lowered his voice—“but you have to understand, this is a critical time for me. Critical. The ideas I am working on are important, and incredibly … sensitive. I must build my reputation before they can be credited. I cannot afford any controversy.”

“But it’s the truth. I know you see it, sir,” I burst out.

“Covington. The only miracle I see here is a boy who saved my life.” His voice dropped even further. “A boy brave beyond reason who brought back a scientific marvel.”

I looked down at Sixpence. She seemed smaller than the others had been. Next to her dark slick scales, Farthing looked tired and dusty. Farthing was just a baby herself. The eggs had all survived, yet I felt a creeping dread. Mr. Darwin cleared his throat and stood, straightening his pocket watch.

“Now, we can’t keep a room full of growing reptiles. The skirting boards are already in tatters. Their enclosure at the London Zoological Society is ready, and as soon as this little one is strong enough, they will all be homed there. They will be safe, with more room for their natural behavioral patterns to develop and be studied.”

Mr. Darwin’s tone was brisk. He’d talked to me about this, but I wasn’t ready. I opened my mouth to protest, then looked at Farthing and closed it again. She couldn’t stay here; it was making her unwell. The thought of being away from her … But I couldn’t be selfish and try to keep her by my side—this new enclosure might help her.

I had no choice but to trust Mr. Darwin, even if he didn’t trust me.

The carriage trundled over the cobbles and Mr. Darwin took his customary place by the window, likely hoping for breeze but instead inhaling the heavy summer stink of London. I offered him some smelling salts, but he declined with downturned lips and a shake of his head. As always, he was a poor traveler, not as ill as he was when he was at sea, but he suffered nonetheless. I sighed. Farthing and her family had been rehomed at the London Zoological Society for eight months now and I wondered when I would stop missing her. Our weekly visit to see them made my insides churn—my heart leaping with excitement, my stomach curling in dread. The lizards had been officially named Galapagos green lizards but soon became known as Darwin’s Dragons. The Komodo dragons were in the enclosure next to them in the reptile house at the London Zoological Society and their joint space became known as Dragon Corner.