Voices of Dragons

“Kay, we should get going,” her mother called from the living room.

So this was it. It was time. She had everything she needed—she hoped. Her cell phone was fully charged. “Just a minute!”

She looked around her room one more time, then the hallway, then the living room. She looked over the house where she’d lived her whole life and tried to remember. On one of the bookshelves in the living room sat the family picture from last Christmas: her, Mom, and Dad. All smiling, laughing almost. Dad had cracked a joke right before the camera clicked. Something about this maybe being their last formal Christmas picture together because Kay would be going away soon, to college and the ends of the earth to climb foreign mountains.

His image seemed to be looking at her. “Dad, I hope this is okay,” she whispered.

Her mother drove them both to the press conference. Kay watched the house slip away.

She turned to her mother, who in her pantsuit and pi

“Yes, of course. Do you want me to check it over for you?”

“No, no—that’s okay.” She was kneading her hands in her lap. Mom glanced at them and smiled another tight-lipped smile.

“Maybe they’ll make you an ambassador,” Mom said, full of false cheer. “I’ve talked about it with the director. I’ve given him all the arguments why we shouldn’t prosecute.”

“You’re biased—they’ll never buy it coming from you.”

“But what sounds better, putting a cute seventeen-year-old girl on trial or making her into an ambassador? This is all about PR. It’s all about public opinion. I know which option will make the bureau look better.” She quirked a smile. PR indeed.

They drove a little while longer. Then Kay said, “What would that involve, being an ambassador?”

“Nothing, if we can’t get the dragons to talk to us.”

They were about an hour early. Mom wanted to be early. She said it would give them the high ground. Let them control the situation better. Maybe she was even right. Kay let her go on her PR kick. Kay had one of her own.

Jon and Tam were already there, waiting in Tam’s car, lost among all the news vans. Kay spotted them on the drive to the middle school gym.

“Mom, stop! There’s Tam. I want to go talk to her.”

Mom looked hesitant, but Kay pleaded with a longing expression she hadn’t used since she was thirteen.

“Okay, but just for a minute. I want you out of sight of all those cameras until the press conference. I’ll wait by the doors there.” She gestured to the gym doors, where two men in army camouflage stood guard. Just seeing them made Kay’s stomach knot.

Kay ran out, and her mother went to park. She went straight to Tam’s car, and Tam saw her just before she pounded on the window. Jon, sitting in back, opened the door for her and slid over to give her space. Almost the whole gang—they were missing Carson.

Longing and anxiety furrowed Jon’s thin face. If anything was going to make her change her mind, that would be it. She leaned toward him and threw her arms around him, holding tight.

“I can’t believe it,” he murmured. “I can’t believe this is all happening.”

None of it should have happened. From Kay falling into the stream, all the way back to the atom bombs dropping, to before that to when the first battles between dragons and humans took place. A cascade of terrible events.

And she was continuing the cascade. But the alternative was ending up in jail and watching the world burn.

“Are you really going to go through with this?” Jon asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I could still chicken out,” Kay said.

Jon stared at her. “I’m right on the verge of telling Tam to drive away. We could kidnap you. For your own good.”

Tam shook her head. “I couldn’t do that.” Kay met her gaze in the rearview mirror. She should have kept them out of this—how much trouble were they going to get in because of her? But she was glad they were here.

“Jon, I need you to hold some stuff for me. Wait out by the football field, that’s where he’ll land. And can you look out for my mom?”

“Okay.”

Kay swallowed. “Tam, can you drive out toward the border? Keep a watch out for him. Call me when you see him, so I know when he’s on his way.”

“This isn’t actually going to work, is it?” Tam said.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re bringing your phone on this adventure, right? I expect you to call me.”

Kay got out of the car, and Jon followed. “Totally.”

“Be careful!” Tam said out the window.

“You too.”

Tam pulled out of the parking lot and drove away. Kay and Jon watched her. He grabbed Kay’s hand and squeezed; she squeezed back.

“Where’s this stuff?” Jon said.

Kay went back to her mother’s car and found the backpack. Before giving it to Jon, she pulled out the dress. The gesture was starting to seem overly dramatic. But she didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding.

Jon touched her hand, holding the gown. “Is that your homecoming dress?”

She was kind of thrilled that he recognized it. She doubted Carson remembered what Tam’s gowns looked like. “Yeah.”

“You’re not the only virgin around here. I should do this. I’ll do this. Why does it have to be a girl in a white dress?”

“Tradition?” Kay said.

“That’s sexist bullshit and you know it. I’ll do it.”

“Jon. You don’t know how to ride. Artegal doesn’t know you. I don’t want to you get hurt.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t. That’s why I have to do this. I’m not afraid.” And she realized she wasn’t.

“Kay. When are you coming back?”

She looked at him, the worry in his eyes, a tightness in his jaw. He looked at her so intently, and she wondered if it was love. She said, “I don’t know.”

They kissed. None of their kisses had ever felt like this, long, intense, rough almost, as if they were making up for lost time. She gripped his shirt in her hands, and he held her close. When she had to catch her breath, she turned away and rested her head on his shoulder. She was crying.

It was almost noon. She was ru

He nodded, and she pulled away. As she slipped through the door to the school, she glanced over her shoulder to see Jon looking back.

Mom came toward her, as if on her way to meet her. Kay scrunched up the dress and hid it behind her back.

“Where are Tam and Jon? Did they come with you?”

“They wanted to watch from outside.”

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“Can I hit the bathroom first?”

As she’d hoped, her mother gave her a look of sympathy. “Come out the gym doors when you’re ready.” She walked off in that direction herself, toward the hubbub and chatter of the temporary offices.

Kay ducked around the next corner, into the bathroom, and into the gown.

She was going to freeze in this thing.

Temporary, she told herself. It was only temporary. As a compromise, she kept long underwear on and wore her hiking boots. It wouldn’t look great, but she had limits she’d go to in the name of fashion.

Squaring her shoulders, she looked in the mirror. Her hair was in a quick ponytail, coming undone, brown strands loose around her face. The dress looked lumpy rather than sleek, with thermal underwear and without heels. With all those cameras out there, she was going to end up on every TV cha

But it didn’t matter if she looked glamorous. It was the symbolism that mattered; she looked like the image in the book. People wouldn’t need to be able to read to understand what was going on. They’d look at her and know, from that deep tribal memory of the stories.