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Swallows were originally dragons who could speak every language in the world. But it weighed on them, being able to empathise with the stories of so many.

I don’t know what to say. The gesture is so mind-bogglingly sweet that I feel my face growing red and – to my horror – my eyes well with tears.

I suck in a breath. ‘Atlas, I—’

‘Race you to that giant egg up there.’

I peer through the gloom of the badly lit hall, grateful for the interjection. At the end is a tall silver egg.

‘You’ve been here before, haven’t you?’ I say.

Atlas shrugs. ‘Wyvernmire’s office is nearby, and I like to see what she gets up to.’

Then, without warning, he tears off down the hall. Laughter bubbles up inside me as I watch him run. I want to follow him, but my silver heels are dangerously high.

Oh, to hell with the shoes.

I run after him as fast as I dare. As he stretches out his arm to touch the egg, I catch him by the back of his jacket and he jerks backwards, tripping over my foot. I lose my balance and we both fall to the ground, breathless, nosespressed up to the silver feet of the egg.

‘You cheat!’ he wheezes, rubbing his knee.

I sit up, see the laughter in his eyes and cackle as I fall back down. The ceiling spins above me and suddenly I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe.

‘You got a head start,’ I splutter.

My pin has come loose and I pull it out so that my hair falls down over my shoulders. Atlas rolls over to look at me, propping his head up on his elbow.

‘You know what I think?’ he says, his mouth twitching.

‘What?’

‘I think this is the first time I’ve seen you laugh.’

‘And I think this is the first time I’ve seen you lose,’ I say with a smug smile.

He snorts. ‘I didn’t lose. I would have got there first if you hadn’t resorted to sabotage.’

‘I’m faster than you,’ I reply. ‘You knew that dragon egg was there before we walked through the door, so really the only cheat here is you.’

There’s a piece of wool from his suit caught in his stubble. I pull it away and his eyes linger on my fingers, then on the ribbon round my neck.

‘Why have you always wanted to be a Draconic Translator?’ he says.

The question is sudden, but I can tell he’s been wanting to ask it for a while.

‘My mother speaks to me in Bulgarian,’ I say. ‘And I think, once you’ve learned two languages, you want to know them all.’ I stare up at the ceiling again, trying toignore how his face is only a few inches from mine. ‘Dragon tongues – and dragons – have always fascinated me. I started preparing for university when I was twelve.’

‘I heard the universities are becoming stricter on who they let in. You must have worked really hard.’

I nod again. ‘We studied constantly.’

‘We?’

‘Sophie and I.’

‘Sophie told me she failed her Examination,’ he says. ‘So did I.’

I already know that. If Atlas had passed, he would have been promoted to Second Class.