Voices of Dragons

Her mother and the FBBE director set up the press conference at the temporary headquarters in the morning, and Kay went along with it, unable to argue. And maybe it would work. But she didn’t think so; it wasn’t just a matter of convincing the military to stop bombing. She had to convince the dragons to stop attacking as well, and a press conference wouldn’t do it.

She and Artegal could get their attention. They’d proven that. She needed help, though: She needed someone to leave a note for Artegal.

Her mother was on the phone, still talking about the press conference. Without a word, she and Tam cleaned up after supper and went to the living room to watch news on TV. As soon as she saw the images—of cities burning, landmarks in Washington, D.C., forests in Florida, buildings in Japan, like an old postwar dragon movie come to life—she wasn’t sure she wanted to see the news after all. The footage of her and Artegal soaring over Silver River was just a footnote to the destruction.

She tugged on Tam’s sleeve. “I have to show you something.” She went to her room, and Tam followed.

All afternoon and even now, Tam had been looking at her strangely, as if something were wrong with Kay, like Tam expected her to do something weird or crazy. She looked like the best friend of the drug addict trying to tell her to get help in those public service videos.

This wasn’t going to make things any better.

In her bedroom, Kay pulled the book from her dresser. Sitting by Tam on the bed, she held it open on her lap.

“What’s this?”

Kay said, “I think it’s kind of a history book. Artegal—the dragon—gave it to me.”

“The dragon gave it to you?”

“They have books too. And libraries.”

“Nobody ever said that—why wouldn’t they teach us that in school?”

“I don’t think anyone knows.” And would it change anything if they did? If people knew dragons wrote and read, would people like Branigan still want to destroy them?

Tam turned the pages carefully, using only her fingertips, and after a few moments murmured, “It’s beautiful. But—do you think it was really like this?”

She was looking at a picture showing a dragon blowing fire into a blacksmith’s forge. The blacksmith was making something curved, unidentifiable—a tool, not a weapon, Kay thought. The weapons came later.

“I think it was. I think it must have been. Tam—I need your help.” Kay swallowed. “I want to do something kind of crazy.”

“Crazier than usual?”

Kay turned pages until she reached the one showing the sacrifice.

Tam stared at it for a long time before shaking her head. “You’re joking. This is a joke.”

“They used to do this as a pledge. We talked about it—it was supposed to show what people were willing to give up to have peace. And it’ll be okay because Artegal and I have a plan, but I need your help.”

Tam shook her head. Horror furrowed her brow. “I can’t do this. You can’t ask me to do this! How can you even think like that? How can you even look at this after what they’ve done? You saw what they did to the town!”

“That wasn’t Artegal’s fault.”

“Kay, dragons killed your father.”

“I know.” She hadn’t meant to, but her face screwed up, and the tears fell. She hadn’t meant to admit it at all. Tam was at her side, moving the book away and hugging her. Face pressed against her shoulder, Kay choked back sobs. She didn’t want any of this to be happening. But she was the only person who had any chance of talking to the dragons. She could imagine her father saying that, which meant she had to try. The sacrifice was something, a symbol that the dragons would understand.

She said, “I think he would understand. I think Dad would understand about this.”

Tam was still shaking her head, not so much in denial but in disbelief. “What can I do?”

“I need to get a message to Artegal. If I try to do it, they’ll know I’m up to something and stop me. But you can go. I’ll show you where.”

“Kay, no, I can’t go talk to that thing!”

“Artegal. His name is Artegal, and he’s my friend.” Kay held Tam’s hands, trying to get her to be quieter. “You won’t even see him. Just leave a note for him. Tomorrow morning, before the press conference.”

“I can’t cross the border!”

“Just for a minute. Everyone else is looking up, looking for dragons—they won’t even see it.”

“Kay—” Tam had tears in her eyes. Strangely, Kay was worried about her makeup smearing.

She touched Tam’s cheeks. “Don’t do that. It’s going to be okay.”

“Kay, why are you doing this?”

She had to think about it, because she hadn’t tried to put it in words. “Because I have to try.”

“It’s not up to you to…to save the world!”

“Hey, maybe there’s a reason I’m the only virgin at Silver River High. You ever think of that?”

As she had hoped, Tam laughed, at least a little.

Kay hugged her. They held each other tightly for a long time.

Tam said, “What’s going to happen?”

“I’m not sure.”

Kay wrote the note on a huge piece of sketch paper, the biggest paper she could find. She described what would happen as briefly as possible, large, so it would be easier for him to read. She folded it up, found a map, and showed Tam where to take it.

“I can’t read this. I’m not the big mountain chick like you are,” Tam said, staring at the topographic map as if it were in a different language.

“Take it to Jon. He’ll show you exactly where it is.”

“Kay, I’m scared.”

“I know. Call me if you can. It’ll be okay.” If they just kept saying it, maybe it would be true.

After that, they came out to the kitchen, Tam said good-bye to Kay’s mother, and they had to act like nothing was wrong, even though their eyes were red. They hugged once more before she left to go home. Tam looked at her like she was convinced they’d never see each other again.

Kay went back to her room, found her phone, and dialed Jon’s number. He picked up halfway through the first ring, as if he’d been waiting with the phone in his hand. “Kay!”

“Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said tiredly, before he finished asking. “Are you okay? What happened? What did they do to you?”

“They put me in a room and asked me a lot of questions. But I couldn’t tell them too much because you haven’t told me anything.” He sounded accusing.

Her impulse was to say she was sorry, but she was tired of feeling sorry. She wasn’t the one who made the world this way and put the military in charge. “What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t tell anyone.”

“Until you decided to tell the whole damn world. If you wanted attention, you’ve got it.”

“I didn’t. Not really,” she said. She said it after all. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Kay.” He sighed. “It’s…it’s amazing, what you’ve done. You’ve shocked the whole world.”

“It was an accident, Jon. The whole thing started as an accident. It’s just that since then…”

“You’re glad it happened,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“So what happens now?”

“Tam’s probably going to be calling you soon,” Kay said. “I asked her to help me with something. She doesn’t like it—”

“Is it anything like you asked me to help you with?”

She hesitated—but maybe Jon was right, maybe he’d been right all along. She couldn’t keep all these secrets to herself anymore. “I need to get a message to Artegal.”

“What are you pla

“It’s big, Jon. It’s dangerous. But if it works—” What was she saying? This wasn’t going to work. She was being naïve. “It’ll at least make everyone think about this, about what’s happening.” That, she decided, was the best she could hope for, and it would still be worth it.

“Kay—”

“There’s a press conference tomorrow at noon. Mom set it all up. It’s going to be at the middle school. Outside, in the parking lot. Can you be there? I’m going to need help.”