After the dragons returned, just before Joe was born, the army of Arcosi was halved in size – the island just didn’t need that many soldiers when it now had dragons to defend it. Half the army had been paid off to leave their jobs, all those years ago. And some of them, the ones who resented it, had banded together and now called themselves the Brotherhood. They loitered around, causing a nuisance and calling out insults, but no one took them too seriously. 10

‘It’s not Tarya’s fault!’ Joe defended his sister, the island’s general. ‘She was generous to the soldiers who left.’ He’d heard his father saying this many times.

‘She still is. That’s the problem.’ Milla sighed. ‘I under­stand she can’t ban them, in case that makes them more popular, but—’ She stopped herself.

‘What do you mean?’ He remembered seeing the men, still wearing their old black uniforms, tattered and faded. They gathered on street corners, drinking in the daytime, trying to get people to listen to them. ‘They’re harmless … aren’t they?’

‘I’m sorry, Joe.’ Milla put one hand on his shoulder. ‘I shouldn’t talk about my worries, not on your birthday. Don’t let this spoil Hatching Day. Your first time. How are you feeling?’

Joe paused, really considering that question. ‘Excited? A bit nervous.’

‘Don’t worry – all the dragons are healthy now.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asked anxiously.

These were only the second clutch of eggs laid since the Great Loss. Two years ago, a terrible sickness had swept through Arcosi’s dragonhalls, killing more than half its dragons. Joe’s brother, Isak, one of the first dragonriders along with Milla, was the Head Dragonguard of Arcosi, and his hair had turned pure white overnight from the shock.

‘Isak has been so vigilant,’ Milla said now. ‘He’s nurtured these eggs as if they were his own.’

It must be a nervous day for them all too, Joe realised in a rush. When the Great Loss came, no one could save 11those dragons: not Milla with all her healing skills; nor Isak with all his wisdom; not Tarya with all her battle skills; nor Duke Vigo in spite of his power. He’d heard the rumours, everyone whispering that it was a sign that these youngsters didn’t know what they were doing and that someone else should take charge of ruling the city. So they all needed this to go well.

Just not as much as him.

Joe looked down, and noticed he was gripping his silver medal tightly between his fingers. Please let it be me today, he wished. Please don’t let me be a waddler!

That was a rude word for people who couldn’t bond with dragons. Someone stuck on the ground: a waddler. Someone who would never fly on dragonback. It was whispered by the children before each ceremony. You weren’t supposed to say it. Most people on the island were waddlers. Only a lucky few were dragonriders. It didn’t stop every child praying, dreaming, wishing that a dragon would choose them.