They all had to wait painful long minutes, while it slowly fought its way free and the little girl scooped it up. She had to go past Joe, Conor and Amina, and he saw his friends’ expressions, as crushed as he felt. At least they were in this together. Just for a moment, he let himself picture the three of them afterwards, talking it over, comforting each other.

Joe didn’t look at Noah.

Two young people held two young dragons, cooing and feeding them scraps of chicken from a tray, and letting them drink spring water from little silver bowls. Isak watched everything, his blue eyes unreadable behind his glasses. Almost halfway there. There was a hushed murmur from 31the crowd: relief still mixed with anticipation. This was a sacred ceremony and no one would move until Isak spoke the closing words.

Joe looked again at the other Potentials, all except Noah. They were huddled in their places in the circle: some looked desperate now; others determined. He couldn’t think of them. He fixed his eyes on the final three eggs. He wiped his damp forehead and realised his hands were trembling, so he sat on them.

He could hear something: another one of the eggs was hatching.

With a sharp tap from within, a large zigzag split the yellow shell.

Then, with a crack, the egg broke into three pieces. A small damp body was wriggling there among the fragments.

‘Oh!’ Joe gasped.

Slowly, slowly, the dark yellow dragon pushed itself up onto four legs, and lifted its little head to listen. It turned in Joe’s direction.

Through glittering green eyes, it gazed right at him.

What could he do? What could he say? What did this creature need? Joe prayed it would be him. He had so much to give.

Before Joe could do anything, Noah started whistling a three-note tune, and the dragon turned away from Joe to stare at him instead. Noah’s face was transformed by con­centration, leaning forwards, his honey-coloured hair falling across one eye, his cheeks pulled tight as he whistled.

No, it couldn’t be. Not him. Anyone but him.32

Surely this dragon wouldn’t listen to Noah?

Noah was just pretending. He must be.

Joe tried to remember a tune, any tune, something from music class. His mind went blank. No, not now, when he needed it most.

‘Please?’ he begged in a whisper.

The world held its breath. Everyone in the whole city watched and waited.

The yellow dragon inhaled.

Joe could see its scaly ribs, glistening with egg sheen.

It chirped the three notes back at Noah.

Noah laughed and opened his hands, as the dragon started crawling towards him. Then he spared a moment to shoot a glance at Joe: full of triumph.

Joe knew he should feel some compassion. Noah had lost his father: didn’t he deserve a dragon of his own? He inhaled slowly, trying to smother his envy and kindle some kindness for his classmate.

There were still two eggs.