Voices of Dragons

On the other hand, Tam didn’t have any doubt. They were in the bathroom when Kay told her what had happened. She hadn’t meant to. She started by talking about the day of the plane crash.

“What were you doing out driving around?” Tam asked. Just like Kay’s Dad.

“I just was. I’d been hiking.”

“And your dad caught you? Oh my God, how pissed off was he?”

She shrugged. “I think he was too busy. He just sent me home. He and my mom didn’t get home ’til like midnight.”

“So you had all night to think of an excuse.”

“Sort of. I mainly just watched the news with Jon.”

A pause. Kay wished she could see Tam, but Tam was still in the stall. “Jon came over?”

Kay hesitated, because she knew she’d walked into a trap and Tam was about to pounce on her. “Yeah—”

“Wait a minute,” Tam said, throwing the door to the stall open as the toilet flushed behind her. “You and Jon were home alone, your parents were gone, you were together on the sofa, and you didn’t do it?”

“No.” Kay pouted, defensive. “It was kind of in the middle of an international crisis. Not exactly the right kind of mood.” Except for all that kissing they’d done…

“What better time?” Tam glared while she washed her hands. “I swear, there’s going to be a big war and you’re going to die a virgin. Then how will you feel?”

“A lot like I do now, I bet,” Kay said.

“Which is?”

“A

“There, you see?”

Kay let the subject drop by not commenting. Jon didn’t seem to mind, and that was the important thing. This was about the two of them and no one else. At least, she didn’t think Jon minded. He’d have said something, wouldn’t he? Wasn’t it normal for guys to want to sleep with their girlfriends? She was the crazy one, according to Tam.

Arguing with Tam over whether or not to have sex was bad enough. If she and Jon started arguing about it…Maybe it would be just as well if the situation never changed at all.

That Saturday, Jon called Kay in the morning and asked if she wanted to go climbing. “I have to get out of the house,” he said. “Away from all this news.”

She knew the feeling. Her mother had been interviewed again about Dragon and the border, along with historians discussing old newsreel footage and commentators agitating either for peace or for an invasion to take back the territory with all its valuable oil reserves and mines. “How dangerous can the dragons be?” reporters kept asking, referring to the old films from when the Silver River Treaty was negotiated. They could fly; they could burn entire towns with their fire. But they’d taken people by surprise last time. This time, we knew what they could do, we’d be ready for them. That’s what people were saying, and the talk made Kay nervous. She didn’t want to find out how dangerous the dragons could be.

Jon picked her up, and they went to a favorite spot south of town, an established sport climbing rock with permanent anchors—and well away from the border, thankfully. Driving, they talked about nothing in particular. School gossip, summer job prospects—both of them had worked for a rafting company the summer before and were debating about returning. College, the future. It seemed so vague, especially when all Kay could really think about was whether Artegal was okay. Whether Captain Co

Then, fortunately, there was the climb, and that took all of her focus. Other problems slipped away.

It seemed strange to be using her climbing gear for actual climbing. In fact, she was seriously out of practice. Her hands cramped, and her calluses had faded. It was like learning to do this all over again. Jon had to talk her through tough spots once or twice. In terms of excitement, rock climbing left something to be desired after you’d flown on the back of a dragon. Maybe her mind wasn’t on the climb after all.

It was nice to be outside: The day was unusually warm, with a blazing sun heating the crisp winter air and making the snow on the trees sparkle. She wore sweats and a T-shirt, and was sweating from exertion. The warmth felt good.

When a jet raced overhead, roaring and leaving a contrail behind it, they paused, watching it. It moved parallel to the border—just a patrol. Nothing unusual.

Kay still had to swallow her heart out of her throat.

Jon was on the ground below her, holding her belay line while she clung to the craggy rock face, resting a moment. Finally, looking at him, she called, “I’m coming down,” because her limbs were shaking and she didn’t want to keep going. Kay braced on her feet and sat in her harness while rappelling down with Jon’s help. On the ground, she absently brushed chalk off her hands. Jon was still looking up, where the jet’s contrail was dissipating.

“Have your parents heard anything?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “It’s all just wait and see.”

“Even if they did attack the town,” Jon said, “it’s not like we’re all going to die. We can run. We can hide out, fight back. That’s what people did in the Middle Ages before the dragons disappeared, right?”

So, neither of them was really thinking about climbing. She’d gone almost a half an hour without thinking about the dragons and what could happen, and in a moment Jon had come up with the worst case scenario.

“Can we talk about something else?” She untied the rope from her harness and handed it to Jon for his turn up the rock face.

“Sorry. It’s just kind of hard not thinking about it, you know?”

Kay didn’t want to fight the dragons. She didn’t want to see those old films come to life, with the fires, bombs, and crowds of people ru

“What if we could talk to them? I keep thinking we ought to find a way to talk to them.” She was blushing. Talking around the issue, so close to blurting out what she’d been doing.

“But how?” he said.

“I don’t know. Maybe someone should just…walk across the border.” She’d never been so close to telling anyone.

Jon shook his head. “Somebody would shoot you. Or eat you.”

If she could trust anyone with the secret, it would be Jon. He wouldn’t tell anyone, she was sure. But she wasn’t sure how he would react. He certainly wouldn’t be happy. But he might not be curious, either. He might freak out, and he might tell someone—for Kay’s own good, to protect her. He’d tell someone for all the right reasons.

“I don’t think there’s going to be a war,” she said.

“Why not? Does your mom know something?”

“No, I just think it would be too weird.”

“Yeah, it would,” he said. “Hey, can you hand me a little chalk? I think I’m out.”

She scooped a handful and handed it to him. She rubbed the chalk on his hand, and he squeezed her fingers before pulling away.

Hooking the belay to her harness, she anchored for him, studying him as he knotted the other end of the rope to his harness and started his climb. The muscles of his arms flexed under his T-shirt, his strong fingers keeping a sure grip on the rock. His skin shone with sweat, and his face flushed with the effort. His smile was wry. He looked really good. She was lucky, dating one of the best-looking guys at school. Lucky to be dating someone who thought it was cool to go rock climbing on a warm winter day.

Silver River settled back to normal, mostly. Most of the news vans and crews that had arrived to cover the situation packed up and left. The sense of relief was plain—people tended to smile a little too big, laugh a little too hard, for the next week or so. A few more cynical people said that the dragons were just biding their time, lulling the town into a false sense of security, and that the air force ought to bomb them first, before it was too late. Everyone else felt like they’d avoided a disaster. They could still see dragons flying around the mountaintops, far to the north.