But Farthing needed to be with her own kind. And they needed her. I pushed her flank, harder with both hands, but she dug her claws into the rock—and then I felt something under her scales, above her shoulder, a hard ridge that had not been there before. I felt again.

Wings.

Farthing was becoming a dragon.

I imagined her golden and magnificent as her mother. In London, caged.

She needed to be somewhere she could fly.

Be bricky.

I waded to where the pipe flowed into the storm drain. A tug at my gaiters, Farthing had me in her jaws, hauling me back from the edge.

I grabbed her snout in my hand and pried the oilcloth of my gaiter free, then summoned all my strength and yelled with everything I had, “Go now. You can’t stay here. I don’t want you!”

The dragon stepped back in surprise, lifting one claw. I had never raised my voice to her.

Farthing whined once, her ruff laid flat. I turned my back on her.

I heard her drop into the surge of the storm drain below. Gone.

“All of them got away?” said Mr. Darwin.

I nodded, and my teeth chattered. I was still shivering, despite the heat of the stove, the blankets wrapped tight around me, and the mug of sweet tea in my hands. I had walked most of the night to end up back at Mr. Darwin’s lodgings just before dawn, although I knew it was selfish to bring him into this. I’d thought to run away, but no further than that. I was so heartsore and had nowhere else to go.

“Sorry, sir. I hadn’t meant to come back. I left a letter in your study, to the newspaper and the Zoological Society—it says you knew nothing about what I did.”

Darwin rubbed his forehead, his hair sticking up, velvet dressing gown hastily tied over his nightshirt. “And what is your plan?”

“Plan?”

“Yes,” he said impatiently, “with the lizards under the Queen’s protection—and her very specific about her wishes in writing—this could be considered treason.”

I nodded, miserable.

“I don’t think you understand, boy.”

“I do, and I am guilty. I will go to the police station now and turn myself in.”

Mr. Darwin shook his head violently. “You certainly will not! The Queen will be furious. Boys have been hanged for less, Covington! She may not show clemency. She is young and prideful, and she does not have a particularly high opinion of me; I will have no sway over her. She could easily send you to the prison hulks, the colonies … It doesn’t bear thinking …” He took a sip of his tea, his hand shaking.

Could I really be hanged for this?

My master was motionless, deep in thought, then sat up straight.

“Did you leave sign of a breakout in the caves?”

I shook my head, not understanding. “I drugged Hallam and used his key.”