“Now,” he continued as I sat there, reeling from the announcement. “We have business to discuss. As a full-fledged member of the organization, you now know how serious the rogue threat is. Your own sister committed a heinous act against one of her own kind, allowing her to be slain by a soldier of St. George. Such is often the case with dragons that go rogue. Without structure, they become violent and unpredictable, a danger to themselves and to the organization. Your sister has started down a very dark path, but we believe it is actually the rogue dragon Cobalt who is influencing her. He is an extremist whose hatred of Talon is well-known, and his tactics against the organization border on terrorism. Cobalt and his network of criminals must be stopped at all costs. How dedicated are you to bringing this about, Mr. Hill?”

Rage burned, and I clenched a fist on my leg, careful not to let Mr. Roth see. Cobalt. The rogue dragon who had lured my sister away, turned her against me, was my personal enemy now. He had almost cost me everything and would pay for what he had done. “Whatever it takes, sir,” I said evenly. “Whatever Talon needs me to do.”

“Even if it means working against your sister?”

I took a deep breath. “Ember made her choice,” I said. “She has to live with the consequences of her actions. My hope is that she’ll realize her mistake and return to the organization willingly, but if she doesn’t, I will bring her back by force if I have to.” Mr. Roth raised an eyebrow, appraising, and I spoke firmly, confidently. “The rogue movement must be eliminated, for the good of us all. I’m fully committed to seeing that happen, sir.”

“Excellent.” Mr. Roth beamed. “Then I do believe you are ready.” He stood, extending a hand to lead me out of his office. “Rest up, Mr. Hill,” he announced as he escorted me to where Mr. Smith stood waiting in the hall. “Tomorrow morning, you have a plane to catch.”

* * *

The elevator slowed, and finally stopped with a faint ding. As the doors slid back, revealing a sterile white hallway and a pair of guarded metal doors at the end, Mr. Smith turned to me.

“Keep in mind, Dante,” he warned as we stepped into the hall, passing humans in white lab coats scurrying from room to room. “This is one of Talon’s greatest secrets. That you are even allowed to be here shows the amount of faith and trust the organization has in you. Do not abuse that.”

“I won’t,” I promised, and meant it.

We came to the doors, and the Talon agent flashed a badge at one of the armed guards, who nodded briskly and waved us through. We stepped into an even smaller room, barely larger than the elevator box, where the guard pressed his hand to a small sensory pad by the door. It lit up, green lines scanning his palm and fingers, before it beeped once, and the light above the metal door turned green.

“Remember, Dante,” Mr. Smith warned again, and pushed back the door.

My eyes widened. I stumbled forward in a daze, hardly believing what I saw. Steam billowed through the frame, and the air was hot and humid, as if I’d stepped into a rain forest. I was almost instantly drenched in sweat, but I barely felt it. I couldn’t tear my gaze from the wonders of the scene before me.

Dragons. Hundreds of them. In rows of huge cylindrical vats marching down the aisles. They floated in translucent green liquid, eyes closed, wings and legs folded neatly to their bodies. Tubes jutted from their necks and stomachs, snaking to the tops of the canisters, where they disappeared in a tangle of machinery. From their size, most of them were hatchlings, some barely out of the egg, but there were a few near the end that were larger, older.

And they all looked the same. Through the glass and the green-tinted murk, their scales were a dull metallic gray, with no hint or spark of color at all. They all had the same ridge of ivory horns over their eyes and along their jaw. The same bony spikes jutting from their backs, shoulders and forelegs. The similarities were more than coincidence, more than sharing the same bloodline or parents. They were identical. Down to the same crooked horn on the left side of their head.

I smiled, as I realized what Talon had been planning, all this time.

“Behold, Dante Hill,” Mr. Smith said, walking up behind me, his deep voice full of triumph. “Welcome to the future.”