The words froze on his lips as he realised Noah wasn’t alone. Behind him there was a short, heavyset man in a black uniform, a sword in his belt. Yannic! He was studying Joe through pale blue eyes, and frowning slightly.

Joe might be able to fight Noah, but he could never defeat Yannic, not with that sword.

Flavia started crying quietly.

‘Jowan Thornsen,’ Yannic said, ‘we’ll have to stop bumping into each other like this.’

From the corner of his eye, he saw Tiago stumble back­wards, his breathing fast and shallow: he must be recalling his attack.

Joe swore. He felt his anger ready and waiting, like a beacon, ready to blaze. He was trapped and powerless, which made him even angrier.

‘Ah, Joe. You never know when to give up, do you?’ Noah smirked at him, and his dragon took flight, hissing at Joe. ‘You’ll always be a loser.’

Just as on Hatching Day, Noah’s words ignited Joe’s temper. He channelled it deliberately now, drawing energy from his anger. ‘I’ll never give up, not against you.’ He ducked the dragon, launching himself at Noah, and they both slammed hard on the ground. Joe’s forehead crashed painfully against Noah’s chin.

They rolled on the floor, both cursing and grunting, flailing around, arms tangling so Joe couldn’t land a proper 221punch. Then he was looking up at Noah’s lip dripping blood onto him, his hair full of grass and dirt.

Noah glared down and pulled one arm back. ‘You’ll regret this, Thornsen.’

Joe braced, but nothing came. Instead, the weight lifted from his ribcage; Noah tipped off him sideways and slumped on the grass. Joe pushed himself back onto his feet and stood there swaying, hands raised, still ready to fight on.

Noah’s eyes were closed and he didn’t move. His dragon, Della, stood over his body, spreading her wings protectively and hissing at the person behind Joe.

Joe glanced round warily. Conor, Tiago, Amina and Flavia all wore the same dazed expression.

He spun round to face Yannic. From its position, Joe guessed he’d just used the rounded pommel of his sword to knock Noah out. ‘What did you do that for?’

Yannic slid the sword back into its scabbard. ‘To save you,’ he said. ‘Even if you’re an idiot who doesn’t know when to stop fighting. Let’s go.’

Joe was baffled. ‘What? Go where?’ Was he being arrested? But why had he hit Noah?

‘You tell me,’ Yannic said.

‘We’re not going anywhere with someone from the Brotherhood,’ Joe spat.

‘Oh, didn’t I say …?’ Yannic added with a grin. ‘Easy mistake to make. I actually work for your sister and the duke.’

222

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Joe was paralysed, unsure what to believe. Could Yannic really be Tarya’s spy? Sure, he’d knocked Noah out of the game, for now, but that could be a ploy. He thought back. Hadn’t Yannic tried to take him aside, when they were beating Tiago? Could he have been trying to protect Joe, or let him escape? His mind spun. This was worse than playing chess against his father, he thought. Then he realised, with a stab of loss, he’d never do that again. Never. Never was such a long time. The pain of his father’s death ambushed him – again.