In response to your recent correspondence, I am afraid your suggestion remains impossible. I would like to personally commend you on your commitment to their welfare, but these animals will remain safely under my protectorate in perpetuity. I know you will respect my wishes on this matter.

Victoria R.

I wished I had not written. Now I had the Queen’s wishes in writing; if I disobeyed … it would be treason. I didn’t even know what happened to people who committed treason nowadays. In the old days, they’d have their head on a spike on Tower Bridge. I did know it would be a scandal and would affect Mr. Darwin’s reputation as my master.

Sometimes I was overcome with doubt.

But when I faltered, I thought of Quartz. And Jenny.

I drew out the key and unlocked the gate set in the bars at the main entrance to the mine, and the damp mossy scent of the cold darkness hit me. I lit the oil lamp that was left by the gate. Mr. Darwin had not visited the caves in over a month and had given me free access to the key.

This was down to me, alone.

And tonight was the night for it. The rain had been belting down for days with no sign of stopping, and much of the caves were flooded, which was exactly what I needed.

I felt a surge of hope. The waters were higher than I’d ever seen them, and it felt like a good sign when I reached the level of the main tunnel and the water lapped at my knees. I waded on toward the gate. The dragons were all underwater, floating on their fronts with only their nostrils above the surface. The guard sat on a ledge opposite the barred cavern, smoking a noxious-smelling pipe.

I was relieved to see it was Hallam, the eldest of the team of four guards, all men whose families had worked for the Royals for generations and the Queen had known since childhood. They now worked alone.

I cleared my throat so as not to startle him, but the sound of the water drowned it out. I walked a little closer.

“Evening, Mr. Hallam, sir,” I said.

The older man did startle and then slid down from the ledge in the wall that had been cut so the guards would have someplace dry to sit when the caves were wet. He tipped his cap.

“Covington. You really should not be here at this hour. And in this weather. You’ll catch your death, boy.”

I shrugged. I liked to release my Bedford accent when talking to the guards alone, and to act my real age. I thanked my lucky stars again that it was old Hallam on duty that night.

“Couldn’t sleep, Mr. Hallam, sir. You know how afeard I get. I brought the dragons their titbits.”

Hallam nodded, his muttonchop whiskers seeming to droop a little lower, and a drip from the roof splatted on his cap, so he looked up and caught another on his cheek.