Sirens and Scales

by Kellie McAllen

  In less than thirty minutes, I’ve filled an entire page. Different countries have different kinds of dragons and different origin stories, but they’re all similar in the dragon’s most prominent features, such as the head, though the bodies vary greatly. In China and other Asian cultures, they’re more snakelike, their ability to fly stemming from magic, whereas European dragons have full bodies, four legs, two wings, horns, and they’re larger. That’s what Yackros must be. I can’t say I noticed a distinguishable European accent in his voice. Another thing I’ll have to ask him about.

  “Whatcha doing?” Max asks, appearing beside me.

  I nearly jump out of my skin. “What are you doing here?” I minimize the browser on the screen, though there’s no hiding my notes as he looks over them in my notebook.

  “I got a hall pass to use the bathroom and decided to surprise you. But it seems you got me because I totally did not expect this.” He chuckles awkwardly, still staring at my paper. “What is it?”

  “Just some research.” I shrug, trying to act like it’s no big deal.

  “On dragons?” He looks down at me, his brows raised, a disbelieving smirk on his lips.

  “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?” I ask, sounding much more defensive than I intended. Oh, how I wish I could just tell him.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t peg you for the fantasy kind of person. What inspired all this? Please tell me it’s not a homework assignment I missed.” His tone changes instantly as that last thought occurs to him.

  I’m tempted to let him think that, but what do I say when we’re never asked to turn it in? And what do I say now?

  “No, it’s not homework. I, uh, I just find it interesting.” I shrug again.

  He pulls the chair away from the computer next to mine and sits down. “This doesn’t have to do anything with when you were five, right?” He looks me in the eye. I don’t know what answer he’s expecting, but now I’m in an even more awkward situation.

  It doesn’t matter what I say now—I’m stuck. I’m not a good liar, but I can’t tell him the truth. So I’ll answer a question with a question. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Well . . .” He rubs the back of his neck. “I can’t help but notice similarities to some previous events. I mean, can you blame me for wondering, all things considered?” Now he’s feeling the awkward. Good. We’re on equal ground.

  “What are these things being taken into consideration, Max?” But I already know. As much as I love Max’s entire family, nothing good comes from Dillon visiting from college. Every time he does, Max goes pseudo-therapist on me.

  “The first time you tried to convince everyone dragons were real, you were five and wandered into the forest alone. And two days ago, you’re in the same mountains with me and my family and we get separated and you wander too far into the same forest alone, again, and now you’re doing research into dragons? You can’t tell me that isn’t odd. Are you saying there isn’t a connection?”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you that. But what if I told you that I wasn’t incorrect either time? What if you’re looking at this wrong? The fact that I’ve gone there twice, alone, and come back believing in dragons could be a sign that they’re real, right?” I know where this conversation is going, and I’m not looking forward to it. But he started it, and I can’t do anything but let it take its course now.

  “Wait!” He shakes his head, smiling, but I don’t think he’s happy, based on the judgmental tone in his voice. “You’re telling me that not only am I right, but you really believe in dragons?”

  Oh, look. Our first fight as a couple.

  “No, I believe in myself. I believe in dreams. I believe that true love always wins at the end of the day. I believe in good. I know that dragons are real, and I know that no matter what I say, you’re not going to believe me because you’ve already made up your mind. Which is why I didn’t tell you.” That’s not the only reason, but it’s still true.

  Max licks his lips, looking around, moving his arms like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. I let him think about what I’m saying. I want him to believe me. I need him to believe me, but I’ve always known he’s never been one for fairy tales. And if I’m being honest, neither am I. He wasn’t wrong when he said that, but I’m not putting blind belief in this. I know they’re real. I know I’m not crazy.

  I’m also aware that I just broke my promise to Yackros, which is something I’ll have to admit to him tonight. Though it seems like it doesn’t matter—Max isn’t going to do anything. He doesn’t even believe in them.

  “I’m sorry, Alita. I don’t want to fight over this, so I’m going to pretend that what you’re doing is all a joke. I’m sorry if that’s not what you were hoping for. Do your research—believe whatever you want. I don’t want this coming between us, so I think it’s better if we just don’t discuss it.”

  “I agree. Which is why I didn’t tell you in the first place.” I put my hands in my lap, unsure how to proceed from this point on.

  “So, we just leave it at that?” he asks, though it sounds more like an offer of truce.

  “We leave it at that. You still coming over after school?”

  “Yeah. I’ll see you at lunch.” He nods. “I’m going back to class.”

  “Okay. See you at lunch,” I reply and watch him leave.

  I turn back to the computer and begin logging out of everything and clearing the browsing history.

  “Is Max okay?”

  I look up to see Kayla Montgomery beside me. Her curly dark brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail so tight, it pulls at the skin on her forehead. She always looks so put together, even now just wearing her purple cheerleader outfit with the matching jacket.

  “Yeah. I think so. Why?” I try to shrug it off. We’re not really friends, though she’s kind enough. We just don’t have anything in common.

  “He seemed upset when we passed in the doorway. Though I can’t say you look much better.” She offers me a pitying smile.

  “I’m okay. But thanks.” I put my notebook back in my bag and make sure I got everything. “See you later.”

  “I hope whatever’s going on works itself out,” she hollers after me.

  7

  The circle of trees around us is as familiar as home, blocking us from the views of any passing dragons—not that I’ve seen, let alone heard one since coming here. My back is against Yackros, who lies in the tall grass, an occasional snore escaping his snout and causing a tickle throughout my whole body.

  I pick a white flower from the ground, twirling its stem between my fingers, a sneeze escaping me with only enough warning to cover my mouth and nose, leaving the daisy as my tissue. With utter disgust, I toss the now snotty blossom aside.

  “Yackros?” I ask, not really wanting to disturb him. I’m perfectly happy and content in our meadow. I could stay here forever if it meant never losing him.

  “Hmm?” the dragon grunts.

  “Will you tell me other stories about your kind?”

  “Perhaps, Little Wingless.” He laughs softly, an odd sensation, given his size. I ignore his pet name for me. Knowing that Alita, my given name, means “winged,” Yackros can’t help but find humor in the fact that I am, in fact, without wings.

  “Then spill, Sparkles,” I say, grinning at how much the dragon both loathes and loves the nickname I gave him as a child. But in my defense, Yackros was far too complicated for me to say when we first met. And the shining flecks in his burnt orange scales makes it so in sunlight, he really does sparkle.

  “What is it you wish to know, exactly?” He turns his neck around to look at me without disrupting my comfy position.

  “Tell me about your family. Life before going into hiding. I want to know everything. Tell me how magic works, how bonds between our kinds started.”

  “Dear child.” He chuckles, followed by a sigh, before I give him the look. Yackros clears his throat. “Dear woman, I don’t know ho
w you can wish for so many stories, and yet not even give me time to tell one before asking for more.”

  “To be honest, Yackros, I’m surprised you’re answering any,” another deep voice says.

  I jump up, turning to face him, my heart hammering against my ribcage. This dragon is slightly larger than Yackros, with sky-blue scales and kind eyes. I’ve seen him before. “Guthrie.” His name slips out, though I had every intention of remaining silent and waiting for Yackros to handle the situation.

  The large dragon looks at me, his head slightly tilted. “And she knows my name,” he states plainly.

  “Please listen to me before you react. You are my closest friend. You should know that I would never betray you, or anyone else. Not without good reason.” Yackros stands and faces his friend.

  “If I thought you had betrayed someone, I would not have come alone. But I would like to know what you’re thinking, allowing this girl to visit continually. Once was an accident. Twice was a mistake, and your excuse had better be worth dying for.” The elder dragon speaks not with anger or malice, but from experience, understanding, and warning.

  “Alita,” Yackros says to me without moving from the spot where he seems to be rooted. “Return home.”

  “She will do no such thing, Yackros. Come, child.” Guthrie beckons.

  I hesitate, unsure who to listen to. I want to stay, but I trust Yackros. I know him. Guthrie, not so much.

  “Do as he says,” Yackros instructs.

  I move toward the older dragon. Either I’m going to make a second friend, or die. I go forward until I’m standing before him and feeling tinier than ever.

  Guthrie looks me in the eye. “I imagine he has explained our situation?”

  “I know of the war between our kinds, and that dragons went into hiding to protect us.” I keep it short, to the point, without a clue as to how this dragon is going to react. Does he want me to know? Is it a secret? Is Yackros going to die?

  “Alita, have you told anyone about Yackros and or the existence of dragons?” Guthrie leans down so we’re closer to eye level.

  I want to lie. Oh, how desperately I wish I could. But I know this is a matter of security for them. “Yes,” I say in a hushed tone.

  Yackros gasps, while Guthrie snorts, a huff of smoke escaping his nostrils.

  “It’s not what you think, though. I didn’t give details. And I didn’t mean to tell him. He found my research and asked me about it because of what happened ten years ago. His brother is going to school to become a psychiatrist and has taught him how to psycho-analyze everything. But even after I admitted that dragons were real, I didn’t tell him about the forest, or Runavelius, and I didn’t give him Yackros’ name. But most importantly, he didn’t believe me. Even if he did, he wouldn’t hurt you guys. He wouldn’t share your secret with anyone.” Or at least, I don’t think he would.

  Now that I realize I’m not sure, perhaps it’s for the best that Max doesn’t want to be a part of this world with me. It’s okay. I’ll be his girlfriend in what everyone else considers the real world.

  “Your name suits you, human. You are without wings, and loyal. I will not give you cause to leave, as Yackros has shown me why it is important that you remain. I believe you will be the first step toward our return to the world we had before the war. But I caution you never to speak of us again unless otherwise instructed. Do you understand? You may visit Yackros, but do not engage with any other dragon, for they may not understand. And while you are going back and forth, do so with caution. Create a schedule. Do not stray from it. Do not enter if Yackros does not know to be here waiting to watch over you.”

  I nod, confused at this change of heart, and how or when Yackros had the time to show him the importance of me staying, but I’m not going to turn it down. I need this. I can’t give it up now that I’m here.

  “And Alita?” Guthrie says.

  “Yes?”

  “Do not hurt Yackros. I feel a sense of mutual trust, and I will respect that. But if you hurt him, betray him, desert him without cause, I will eat you for supper.”

  I audibly gulp because I believe him. I take a step back and clear my throat. “Understood.”

  He laughs. “Very well. One last thing, then.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You must understand that you are in danger every moment you’re here. I will leave you to make a schedule with Yackros to help lessen that risk.”

  “Thank you, Guthrie.” I bow my head as I’ve seen them bow, assuming it’s the way they show respect.

  “You are welcome, my princess.” He returns the gesture.

  I don’t understand why he calls me princess, but I certainly don’t mind it, so I don’t point it out. And it doesn’t matter because he’s already leaving our little meadow.

  It’s just me and Yackros again.

  8

  One Year Later

  The flames in his eyes burn so bright, it appears as though they could scorch me just as badly as the fire building in his lungs. I can feel heat emanating from him, see as he inhales, preparing to turn me to ash, a blow he’d already have delivered if not for my sudden outburst mere seconds before.

  His neck cranes as he stoops to my height. I swallow the lump in my throat, trying to speak, but unable to make a sound. The acid in his breath reeks like spoiled meat and sulfur. I try not to squirm away or let the utter disgust show on my face.

  “Either you wish for death, or you dare interrupt your punishment for nothing. You demanded my attention, and yet you do nothing to keep it. Cowering before me will get you nowhere. Speak or die alongside your friend.” With every word he speaks, the ground trembles beneath me. The way he enunciates that last word frightens me. What does he mean by that?

  I look up. My friend watches me, struggling against the arms and wings holding him back, ensuring he’s unable to come to my aid. The guards know that if he could, we would have escaped together already, and I wouldn’t be faced with this impossible decision, one I thought I would never make. Not because it was a difficult choice, but because it shouldn’t be possible.

  “You cannot kill him.” I hate how small my voice is compared to these creatures. But I stand a little straighter, goose bumps rising on my arms, my heart beating so fast, it physically hurts. “If you do, you’ll have to kill me too.” I look Ruxsiu in the eye, knowing this is the end.

  Everyone has heard that your life flashes before your eyes right before you die, but that’s not what I’m seeing at all. Instead, I’m envisioning everything I haven’t done. All the moments when I could have been doing regular teenager things instead of spending every possible moment sneaking off to visit my dragon in the hidden forest. But after a year of doing just that, we’ve been caught. And now we have to pay the price.

  We’re both going to die, and there isn’t anything I can do to stop it. Only offer up my own life in hopes of deterring King Ruxsiu from killing my best friend. I guess it’s a good thing I don’t regret a single decision I’ve ever made regarding how to spend my time.

  At least I will die knowing I finally stood up for something rather than letting people treat me however they want with no consequences.

  Especially considering it’s my fault that we’re facing such consequences. I cannot allow Yackros to pay the price for my disobedience. He told me never to come again, and upon every visit, he begged me to walk away forever. I didn’t listen. And now he’s going to die because of it. The least I can do is remain by his side, to take the sentence with him, or better yet, for him.

  My back is against the rock. Dragons are surrounding me. Temperatures rise as beasts prepare to burn me and leave my dried-up skeleton—if even that much remains—here never to be found. The sun is already beating down on us. Sweat drips from my forehead. My hair sticks to my skin like it’s been glued on.

  It feels like my insides are boiling, thanks to the bubbling, sick feeling in my stomach. A slight breeze goes by, and for a second, everything is still. No nois
e, no movement. There’s no impending death. I look at Yackros, who’s watching me, trying to reach out, though he can’t. And there’s a click, though I’m not sure if it’s audible or just in my head.

  A sense of peace washes over me and I relish this moment, frozen in time, because it may very well be my last one. And then the moment disappears, carried away on the fleeting wind.

  King Ruxsiu, ruler of all dragons, his scales as black as death and then some, laughs. Throwing his head back, chortling to the sky, the sound reverberating off the trees. He leans down to face me again.

  “Is that what you interrupted the execution for? To tell me that I must kill you too? You say it with such pride, dear human, and yet I am baffled as to why. Is it because you see yourself as innocent? Or you think I could not do it? Don’t for a moment think I wouldn’t take pleasure in it,” he sneers. His scales flash red before turning black again. “You have invaded our lands and corrupted one of the only competent dragons left. You have tainted our home and damaged our barrier. Do you think I won’t gut you with my talon? Or roast you with my fire? Do you think that because you’re small and pathetic, I couldn’t toss you into the canyon without pause? You have ruined everything. This—” he gestures to Yackros and the guards holding him, “is your fault. You brought this about. So I will gladly punish you the same as your dragon.”

  My ears ache from his tone, volume, and the sheer terror he causes. Every part of me is exhausted. His questions are cruel, his soul evil. I imagine his heart must match the color of his scales. This was all a mistake. I’ll never get to say goodbye to my family. To Max. They’ll never know what happened to me.

  But at least I will have died defending Yackros. I look to him, immense sorrow drowning me as I look at the anguish in his eyes, the pain he emits. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, knowing he can hear it.

  He opens his mouth, but no sound comes. Only an odd choking noise as another dragon clamps down on his throat, holding him down so he cannot come to my rescue or his own. His scales burn brighter orange, filled with more rage, trapped, unable to do anything but watch.