Voices of Dragons

by Carrie Vaughn

“Oh, it’s a mad house here.” She must have been at the FBBE main office. Kay could hear voices, telephones, and activity in the background. “I think every newspaper and TV station in the country has been calling us for a statement. We don’t have enough people to take care of the PR and assess the situation at the same time. They’ve got me handling the press, and I can’t keep up with it.”

  “What is the situation?”

  Her mother sighed again, and Kay imagined her—brown hair with its scattering of gray strands coming loose from its ponytail, suit jacket looking rumpled, face lined with stress as she dashed around the office from one phone, desk, or computer to another.

  “Waiting, unfortunately. We can’t do much until we see what they’re going to do. The biggest problem is we have no way to get in touch with the dragons to try to prevent a misunderstanding.”

  Kay could say, But Mom, Artegal will talk to them. They’ll know what happened because of him. But then she’d have to explain Artegal, and she couldn’t do that. She was hoping the pilot wouldn’t tell anyone—or maybe no one would believe him. Maybe they’d think he hit his head on the way down or something.

  Mom said, “Kay, I’m probably going to be here all night. Can you get yourself dinner? Will you be okay?”

  “Yeah, Mom. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Now that she wasn’t flying around on the back of a dragon….

  “Stay inside. I’ll call you if anything else happens. Or Dad will, but he’s going to be working all night, too.”

  “Okay.”

  “I love you.”

  Again, like she had with her father, Kay said, “I love you, too.”

  If nothing else, all that love told her how worried her parents were.

  Jon arrived ten minutes after she finished her shower. She baked a frozen pizza for dinner, and they camped out in front of the TV watching news channels, even though no one had any new information. The pundits spouted predictions over video footage of the territory north of Silver River, the endless forest, distant peaks, and dragons wheeling above them. This far away, they were like insects fluttering, like dragonflies—maybe that was how the insect got that name. It was almost as if the cameras were waiting for the dragons to get closer. Wouldn’t the networks love it if there were an attack?

  Her mother was interviewed at one point. She looked harried, no makeup, her hair quickly pulled back. Even on TV, Kay could see the shadows under her eyes. The caption under her image read, ALICE WYATT, ASSISTANT DIRECTOR FOR THE FBBE IN SILVER RIVER. She gave the camera a thin-lipped frown and said, “Other than some increased flight activity, we haven’t detected anything suspicious on the dragon side of the border, but we’re going to continue to monitor the situation closely.”

  That was it, her mother’s fifteen minutes of worldwide fame, looking like she needed to sleep for twelve hours.

  A little later, CNN showed a video of a group of military guys leaving a helicopter parked on the black tarmac of a runway. The camera focused in on one of them; he looked pale, tired, and the worse for wear. She recognized the pilot from the crash. They’d found him. He’d crossed the border okay and was safe.

  A caption at the bottom of the screen labeled him Captain Will Conner.

  Everything the news anchor said about him had to do with the “downed pilot not talking to reporters” and various “statements issued by the air force.” No one said anything detailed about what had happened to him on his adventure. And no one said anything about him encountering a girl riding a dragon. Maybe he would keep silent about them.

  “Hey, you okay?” Jon asked.

  They were sitting on the sofa, plates with pizza crusts and empty soda cans to the side. She held the blanket draped over their laps in a death grip. Consciously trying to relax, she smoothed the blanket and rubbed her hands together. “Yeah. I guess this is stressing me out more than I thought.”

  “If they thought there was going to be trouble, they’d evacuate, wouldn’t they? If they knew something—”

  “No, I think it’s okay. I think everything’s going to be okay.”

  He took her hands in his and squeezed. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. His hands were warm; she hadn’t noticed that hers weren’t until he touched her. It had gotten dark outside, and they hadn’t turned on any lights. They just had the glow from the TV.

  She felt suddenly nervous, her skin prickling all over, and it had nothing to do with the uncertain situation outside.

  Jon leaned forward, very slowly, and kissed her. She didn’t move away. If she was really that nervous, she would have turned her head, stopped him. She wasn’t scared of Jon, because she trusted that he would always listen when she said no. Of course, if she kept saying no, he may not stick around. At least that was what Tam kept saying. But her heart was racing, and her hands were trembling a little. She didn’t want Jon to think she was scared. She squeezed his hands back, and he kissed her again, longer this time, his mouth opening, hers opening with his.

  Her hands weren’t cold anymore.

  She broke away to take a breath and smiled. “It almost looks like you set up this whole thing.”

  He looked around at the dark room, at them lounging together on the sofa. Even in the near dark she could tell he was blushing. She was close enough to feel the warmth. He shook his head.

  “No, not like that. I mean, it wasn’t on purpose, it just happened—”

  “I’m teasing you.” She gave his arm a light punch.

  “If you’re uncomfortable—”

  “No. No, I’m not.” She wasn’t, she realized. Not uncomfortable, even if it was strange. If I wanted to, she thought. If we wanted to go all the way, we could, right now. But this was good, just the way it was. So she leaned against him, nestled her head on his shoulder, as he put his arm around her. They rested, just like that, and she finally relaxed. She settled into his embrace, tipping her head back to look at him. “But you’ll probably want to get home before my dad gets back,” she said.

  Jon tensed at that, looking nervous. Kay reflected that it took some bravery to date the sheriff’s daughter. Grinning, she said, “I’m teasing again.”

  “You sure about that? Your dad’s scary.”

  “Not that scary.” Although when he’d pulled her over this afternoon, he’d been pretty scary. He didn’t look all that terrifying, but he projected attitude without ever saying a word. She’d love to learn how to do that.

  A cell phone rang—Jon’s, by the ringtone. His mother this time, calling to find out where he was. Kay could hear the strain in her voice over the phone. Everyone in town was probably worried.

  “I have to go,” he said, folding his phone shut and putting it back in his pocket.

  “Yeah, she sounded worried.”

  “You’d think if something was going to happen, it would have happened by now,” he said.

  “Nobody knows what to expect. That’s the problem.”

  He pulled his coat on, and she saw him to the door and lingered. “Thanks for coming over,” she said. “It was good to see you.” She took his hand, and he kissed her. That warm flush ran through her again. She could get used to this.

  After he’d gone, Kay cleaned up the remains of dinner and returned to the sofa, curling up in the blanket and watching more news. Nothing changed, but she felt like she ought to be keeping vigil. Her parents were out there working. She wanted to be doing something, too.

  Something besides worrying about Artegal and wondering if their secret would be discovered.

  10

  “Kay, honey. Wake up.”

  Someone shook her shoulder.

  Kay sat up, bleary eyed, and brushed hair out of her face. Her mother kneeled beside the sofa. The TV was still humming with the same footage and text scrolls as earlier in the evening.

  “What’s wrong?” Kay said. Suddenly anxious, she knew that something had to be wrong.

  “Nothing, everything’s okay. I just thought you’d be more comfortable in your bed.”


  “Yeah, I guess. Is Dad okay?”

  Mom actually smiled. “He’s fine. He’s on his way home. Everything’s fine. Nothing’s happened so far.”

  “I saw you on the news.”

  She rolled her eyes. “They didn’t even let me run a brush through my hair.”

  “You looked fine. You sounded good.”

  “You, on the other hand, look beat. Did you eat something?”

  “Yeah, some pizza,” Kay mumbled. She didn’t say anything about Jon coming over.

  “Good. Get to bed, all right?”

  Kay must have looked exhausted for her mother to comment. But she couldn’t exactly say, Well, of course I’m tired—I rode a dragon and dodged the air force today.

  Strangely enough, once she’d made it to bed and under the covers, she couldn’t sleep at all. Her father arrived home shortly after, and sounds of conversation from the kitchen distracted her. She couldn’t make out what her parents were saying, but their tones were serious. There were pots and pans and kitchen noises, probably them eating something, then footsteps down the hall, their bedroom door closing, then silence. Kay rolled over and looked at her clock. Two A.M.

  She stared at the ceiling. Wondered if dragons slept.

  Over the next few days, statements from the air force confirmed that the fighter was on a routine patrol when an electrical malfunction caused the pilot to veer off course and lose control completely. All planes of that type, the F-16, were now being examined to ensure that the malfunction didn’t repeat. The pilot was praised for doing everything he could to keep the plane out of Dragon and for minimizing his own presence in dragon territory. Incursions by firefighting helicopters had been necessary to douse flames started by jet fuel, but once again it was hoped the dragons would understand and not take offense. The president even made a speech about peaceful coexistence and understanding and all the same lines that presidents had always gone on about. It sounded rote. How could there be peaceful coexistence when everyone was so scared? When the two sides never even talked?

  They had a drill at school that week. When the alarm went off, a couple of people screamed—short, shrill, panicked—because it could have been real. Nobody joked, nobody talked as they found their places in the hall and huddled, waiting for an attack. Even the teachers, most of whom usually looked bored or annoyed during drills, seemed pale, nervous. The vice principal kept glancing out the front-door windows—against the rules, but Kay couldn’t blame him. The front doors looked north.

  After that night of eating pizza, watching the news, and kissing Jon, something felt different to Kay. She felt closer to him, but more uncertain, too. They never talked about it directly. Kay couldn’t be sure how close they’d really come to going further, physically. “We’re taking it slow. It’s okay. It’s totally okay,” Jon kept saying, as if he had to emphasize it, afraid that she was actually nervous—when he was the one who sounded more nervous, like he was trying to convince himself. She used to be able to tell what he was trying to say. But now, was he trying to say it was okay that they were going slow, or did he really did want to go further?

  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?”

  “Annoyed.”

  “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 Conner had told anyone about them.

  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.”

&
nbsp; “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 running in fear. It would mean never talking with Artegal again, never flying again. She didn’t want to have to be afraid of him. But it was like her mother kept saying—they didn’t really know anything about the dragons. Could Kay say she knew anything about dragons, or just Artegal?

  “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.