Everyone turned to look at Isak’s partner, Luca, the King of Sartola, who was standing in the front row beside Tarya. Luca smiled and nodded at this welcome, raising one hand to wave at the crowds.

‘We are fortunate to be blessed with this clutch,’ Duke Vigo went on. ‘As you know, this is a sacred ceremony, pro­tected by law.’ The duke looked fierce as he spoke the formal warning, and there was total silence for a moment.

Joe wondered if this was aimed at the Brotherhood. He had a quick look round, but he couldn’t see anyone wearing black. 26

Then the duke smiled, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, and his face changed entirely: ‘Let the ceremony begin!’

Isak lifted the protective covering from the eggs.

There were five eggs! Joe counted and re-counted to be sure.

The whole marketplace was filled with a soft twittering of anticipation mixed with awe.

Five eggs. Ten Potentials. Half of them would be going to the dragonhall. Half would be going home miserable. Joe held his breath and prayed it wouldn’t be him, Conor or Amina.

There was a tawny-cream egg, a blue-green egg, a golden yellow and, unusually, two the same colour: both pale lilac. That was a kind of purple – not the deep purple from his dreams, exactly, but close enough.

I’m coming, he said silently to the eggs, to the dragons waiting inside.

Milla was standing in the front row behind her enormous blue dragon. She leaned round Iggie’s neck to smile at Joe and mouth at him, ‘Good luck!’

Still no one moved.

What was the delay? Joe rubbed his neck, feeling the sun hot on his skin. He started to itch with impatience. His face was on fire. He studied the crowd to calm himself and his gaze snagged on the only face looking stricken. It was Winter, one of the Dragonless. Her dragon had died two years ago in the Great Loss. Some of the Dragonless had died then too. Most had fled the island, unable to live 27with the constant reminders of what they’d lost. Only she remained.

There were rumours of a ghost in the ruined north-west quarter of the island – the shadow strip – but Joe’s parents always said it was just Winter, in her grey dress and dark cloak, emerging from the shadows and vanishing again.

Her mother still lived in the lower town, but Winter wandered the streets day and night, talking to her dead dragon, Jin. People were kind, steering her home, giving her food, but she was gaunt and ragged as a scarecrow, looking much older than her fourteen years.

Usually her grey eyes looked right through everyone. Today though, Winter’s gaze fell on Joe, and what Joe read there was too much to bear. He saw unimaginable pain, fathom-deep. He had to look away.

‘Potentials! Come and sit in a circle. Not too near. Give the eggs space.’ Isak was calling them forward, finally.