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Contents ( 50)
  1. CONTENTS
  2. PROLOGUE
  3. CHAPTER ONE
  4. CHAPTER TWO
  5. CHAPTER THREE
  6. CHAPTER FOUR
  7. CHAPTER FIVE
  8. CHAPTER SIX
  9. CHAPTER SEVEN
  10. CHAPTER EIGHT
  11. CHAPTER NINE
  12. CHAPTER TEN
  13. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  14. CHAPTER TWELVE
  15. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  16. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  17. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  18. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  19. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  20. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  21. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  22. CHAPTER TWENTY
  23. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  24. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  32. CHAPTER THIRTY
  33. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  34. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
  42. CHAPTER FORTY
  43. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
  44. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
  45. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
  46. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
  47. EPILOGUE
  48. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  49. Also by Liz Flanagan:
  50. COPYRIGHT

‘Wait,’ Winter said, stopping so suddenly that Joe bumped into her shoulder. ‘What’s that noise?’

A high-pitched cry floated on the still night air.

‘A cat?’ Joe guessed.

But then a loud jeering blotted out the cry. It came from a few streets away.

‘Oh no.’ He recognised a voice. ‘The Brotherhood.’ He started sprinting towards the sound.

‘Joe, no!’ Winter shouted after him. ‘Wait! Not tonight!’

But he had a horrible feeling about that noise. He sped round the last corner, and halted.

There were only a handful of men, but they were making so much noise, echoing from the walls of the ruined shadow strip, that it seemed like more. They were standing round 137something huddled on the floor. One held a lantern high, casting a pool of greasy yellow light.

Joe tried to peer through their legs.

It was a person. A young man, Joe saw. He was curled up, with his hands protectively over his head. They were taking it in turns to kick him.

Joe was filled with that boiling rush of anger again – just like on Hatching Day – but this time he welcomed it. He let it fill him – burning, powerful – and without a second thought he pushed through the men.

‘Stop!’ Joe roared. ‘What are you doing?’

They paused, surprised to be interrupted.

His anger won him a few moments. With his heart racing, he glared round the circle. Only then, standing there, facing the men, did he realise how foolish he’d been.

He became their new target.

One of them pushed him hard from behind, and he stum­bled into a black-clad man who looked familiar.

Yannic!

‘Hey, look, Asa. Look, lads: it’s our new friend, Joe Thornsen. The waddler!’ Yannic shoved his face close to Joe’s.

Backing away, Joe almost tripped over the young man on the floor. He glanced around the circle of faces – three new ones, and the tall man, Asa, their leader.

‘We meet again. It must be a sign,’ Asa said with a slow smile.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Joe clung to his anger, because the alternative was helpless fear. 138

The man on the floor groaned.

‘Let me get rid of him, Asa. We were nearly there with the other one. Quick, before someone comes,’ Yannic said.

‘We’ve got to get help – he needs a healer now.’ Joe looked over his shoulder, and by the wavering lantern-light, caught a glimpse of the injured boy’s round face, patched with the beginnings of a beard. He spat blood-streaked saliva. With horror, Joe realised it was Tiago, from Conor and Amina’s dragonhall. ‘I don’t understand. Why would you hurt him?’ He searched their faces for some clue. Last time these men had offered him food, ale, warmth. He’d sung with them.

There was silence.

Five men stood there. Tiago was barely conscious. Joe was unarmed. He prayed that Winter had run to fetch some­one. He had to make this last long enough for help to arrive.