by Wesley King
“That’s not your fault,” Marcus said.
“It is,” she replied numbly. “I started it. And I could have saved him. The fire didn’t hurt me. But my dad dragged me out.” She turned away. “I can still hear him screaming.”
Marcus reached out in the darkness and found her hand.
“You were five,” he said gently. “You didn’t have a choice.”
Dree let him hold her hand—she let the warmth flow through her.
“Maybe,” she said at last. “But that doesn’t stop the memories.”
Marcus squeezed her fingers. “Those won’t stop until you let them.”
They let those words hang in the air until both succumbed to the darkness.
The days passed in a haze. Dragon sentries returned once in a while with reports of attacks, but soon those too blurred together. Houses destroyed, buildings leveled, fields of dead Outliers shot from the sky and left to dissolve into the soil. The Sages were long gone, the Nightwings were hidden in Forost, and the Flames were secluded in the Teeth, so the Outliers and the humans were taking the brunt of the drone’s attacks.
The stories were of death, and it only made them work faster.
They didn’t speak of the fire again, but Marcus and Dree both felt that a wall had disappeared between them. They were comfortable in their silence. Dree was relieved that Marcus knew the truth about her and still hadn’t left, and he was relieved that she trusted him enough to share her secrets. He hoped it meant she had forgiven him for leading the drones into Dracone.
Dree may have felt some relief from her guilt, but Marcus’s was growing worse. With every story from the sentries, his stomach hardened into stone. They had to hurry.
A week passed, and a rudimentary hybrid began to take shape. With Lourdvang’s help, Dree built wings from the sheet metal—designed more for maneuverability and speed than lift. The drones had the engines; she just needed to improve on the design. Crude legs and claws were formed and attached to the central frame of the drone, built on pistons and cogs. The wiring of the drone was completely intact, and Marcus showed Dree how to run it through the hybrid. But technology was not enough. In places she showed him where fire could power movement, and Lourdvang proved very useful in that matter, pointing out things that made no sense to Marcus. And yet when they created the shape, Lourdvang blew fire in the heart and limbs began to move. For Marcus it was hard to fathom, but he realized it was their only chance.
Somehow the fire had the ability to power things in a way that didn’t make sense on Earth—fire didn’t move objects by itself. It needed a whole internal combustion system or water to turn to steam. Obviously this was not regular fire as Marcus understood it. When he asked Dree about it, she just shrugged and said dragon fire had always been considered magical among the dragon riders of old. Marcus wanted to study it more, but they didn’t have the time. So he just watched in fascination as the combination of Lourdvang’s fire and the drone’s circuitry and engines brought the hybrid to life.
Even fire couldn’t bring artificial intelligence and voice command though, so Marcus spent most of his time restructuring the code. He used the one written on the wall as a guide and found that it did outline how to create open-ended code. They were instructions, and he could use them to give the hybrid limited intelligence. It was essential: A robot that responded to commands wouldn’t be enough. They needed a weapon that understood how to fight.
Twelve days after they started, the hybrid was ready for its first test. The time had passed quickly, despite the arduous work. Stories of destruction in the city and the outskirts had continued to pour in from dragon scouts, and Dree worried constantly about her family. She and Lourdvang hadn’t dared risk a visit to the hidden cave, however, for fear of attracting unwanted attention. Marcus and Dree had also slept very little, and both were wavering as they stood in the shadowy cavern, examining their creation. It was crude and unpolished, but it was still pretty impressive.
The wings were sheet metal attached to great frames of steel, bordering a rudimentary dragon shape built around the hulk of the drone. The body had been easy to fashion, but building enormous legs and a neck and even a fully formed dragon head had been feats that had driven Dree to the very edge of her patience and talent. She was fairly confident that she was the only person in Dracone who could have created something like this, and still she was skeptical. Erdath and a few other dragons were gathered at the entrance, having heard that the first test would take place that afternoon. They were even more dubious than she was, and Erdath had blown out an unhappy puff of smoke when he saw the bizarre creation.
“Well,” Marcus said. “Should we try it?”
Dree glanced at him. “Might as well.”
An equally tired Lourdvang lumbered over to the hybrid and leaned down to where Dree had created a large shaft to the heart of the dragon, the same as she had for the toy dragonfly. She was using the same mechanics, but with the help of powerful fuel cells and advanced wiring from the drone, which she hoped wouldn’t immediately incinerate under Lourdvang’s fire. Theoretically, the combination of the two power sources would allow for greater energy, more power, and a mechanical creation that bordered somewhere in a dangerous place between technology and magic.
“Do it,” Dree said, chewing on a nail nervously.
Lourdvang nodded and sprayed fire into the shaft, trying to keep the blaze narrow and focused. It shot into the hybrid, which instantly lit it up like a candle, an orange glow beaming out from every opening. Marcus fidgeted anxiously, focused on the eyes. The processing core was placed in the heart of the hybrid, right where it had been originally, but they had worked hard to run wires up to the head as well. Nothing happened.
The hybrid lit up the cavern, but it didn’t move.
Dree scowled and threw her torch on the ground. “I knew it wouldn’t work.”
Marcus remained silent as Dree walked over to the hybrid.
“It’s too big,” she ranted, feeling the heat rise up in her. “And the wires and computer parts and whatever else you said—it doesn’t mix with fire. We’re wasting time in here when we should be figuring out a way to—”
“Baby Hybrid,” Marcus said calmly. “Stand up.”
He didn’t know if it would work for sure, of course. But he thought he saw a flicker of light in the eyes. As soon as he spoke, they flared orange. The hybrid immediately climbed to its feet, all straining metal and groaning and noise like a factory churning to life. Dree froze and stared wide-eyed as it stood up, half as big as Lourdvang but still massive. It waited there silently, its legs firm and steady.
“Impossible,” she whispered.
“Obviously not,” Marcus replied, cracking a lopsided grin.
Lourdvang looked leery of the hybrid, as did Erdath and the other dragons. They also looked stunned, which was exactly how Dree and Marcus felt.
“Baby Hybrid,” Marcus said. “Fly.”
Instantly, the engines began to hum. They had managed to relocate the propulsion engines of the drones to the back of each stationary wing and kept the main one on the bottom to ensure that the hybrid could hover and maintain altitude. The hybrid didn’t need to flap its wings, but it could angle them slightly for better maneuverability. The engines flared, receiving full power, and the hybrid began to slowly lift off the floor.
Dree shrieked with laughter as it started floating into the air. “I can’t believe it,” she said, grabbing Marcus by the shoulder. “It’s amazing—”
The words were barely out of her mouth when the engines sputtered and went out. The hybrid fell three feet onto the hard stone floor, and one of the huge legs snapped right off at the weld. The entire thing slammed into a heap and went dark. Dree and Marcus just stood there for a moment, unable to speak.
Erdath and the other dragons chuckled and left. Lourdvang pawed the hybrid, as if testing to see if it was
really defunct.
Marcus shrugged. “Let’s try it again.”
That night, Marcus and Dree sat across from each other examining the hybrid’s wiring. Marcus was explaining how it worked, and Dree listened, fascinated. Even Lourdvang was curled up beside them, watching intently as Marcus explained about electric transmissions, polarization, and programming. These were things Marcus had loved since he was a kid, and he wasn’t used to anyone listening so intently, never mind a girl and her dragon. He was flushing as she asked questions and shook her head in amazement.
“Does everyone know these things where you come from?” Dree asked.
Marcus smiled. “No. I was a bit . . . keen on this stuff.”
“So you must have been important.”
“Not quite,” Marcus said awkwardly.
They had a small lantern lit beside them, which Erdath had kept stored from years earlier when humans used to frequent Forost. Dree had lit it with her finger, and Marcus had stared at her in wonder of his own as the freshly born shadows leapt over their faces.
“They don’t really value these things in junior high school,” Marcus added. “I didn’t have a lot of friends. Never did, really.”
He was exhausted, with dark circles around his eyes and bags below them. His hair was tangled and greasy, matted against his forehead with long-dried sweat, and he didn’t even want to know what he smelled like.
But he knew Dree didn’t care. For one thing, she was just as dirty, and maybe worse. Her face was scorched black from the welding, and her hair was a knotted mess.
“Me either,” Dree admitted.
“Why not? An awesome girl like—” Marcus stopped, flushing.
Lourdvang snorted. “I think he complimented you.”
“I got that,” Dree said dryly. “Thank you, but I have Lourdvang and Abi. They are all I need.” She paused. “And I guess I never really took the time to try. I was thinking about other things.”
“The past,” Marcus replied quietly. “Same with me. I just wanted to find my dad.”
“And I just wanted to save my brother,” Dree whispered.
They were silent for a moment.
“How about we save Dracone instead?” he offered. “And call it even.”
Dree smiled. “Deal.”
They sat there until the torch had burned out and then lay down next to Lourdvang to sleep. Marcus stared up into the darkness, his hands behind his head.
“That was pretty sweet today.”
Dree smiled. “Yeah. By the way, what’s with the name Baby Hybrid?”
“I don’t know. I was just calling it that in my head all along, and so I programmed that name into the processor. What do you think?”
“It’s stupid,” Lourdvang rumbled.
Dree burst out laughing. “Sorry. We’re still working on his social skills.”
“I see that,” Marcus said sourly. “Well, I can change it if you want.”
“No,” Dree replied. “I like it. Let’s make Baby Hybrid fly.”
Marcus looked over at her. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“The fire you started . . . with your hands. What is it? Have you always been able to do that?”
Dree stared up at the ceiling. “For as long as I can remember.”
“It’s only started recently for me,” he said quietly. “I started melting things. Does anyone else have that power here?”
“Not that I know of. It’s rare. There were a few riders who had it, but not many. What about in your world?”
Marcus snorted. “Definitely not. We don’t have a lot of . . . magical things.” He paused. “What do you think it’s for? Why do we have it?”
“I don’t know,” Dree said. “But I’m guessing we’re going to find out.”
They both drifted off to sleep, but soon Dree woke with a start. She’d just been in a fire again—the house was collapsing, her family screaming. They were all there, trapped, and she couldn’t get to any of them. The fire was coming fast, and she had to save them.
Leaving Marcus on the floor, she grabbed her torch and got to work.
The next morning Lourdvang took Dree and Marcus to a small waterfall in the valley below Forost—a place that Dree had never seen. They had slept for an hour or two at most, and they were both absolutely filthy with sweat and grease and dirt. Dree reluctantly agreed to go with Lourdvang so that they could all wash themselves off.
As Lourdvang swept to a landing on the shore of the river, Dree was instantly glad she’d agreed. The waterfall spilled off a thirty-foot sheer cliff lined with brambles and ancient-looking oak trees that soaked up the mist. The water then crashed into a rocky pool before racing down through the valley, settling there like glass. Marcus smiled.
“It’s beautiful,” he said.
“Even dragons bathe once in a while,” Lourdvang replied. “This is where we go. We call it the Mountains’ Tears. The water is cold, but it’s very fresh.”
Marcus and Dree tentatively approached the water, sneaking an awkward glance at each other. It was late summer and cool in the mountains, but the sun was shining down through the peaks overhead, and it was warm enough that the water was tempting.
Dree turned and slipped off her filthy woolen shirt, leaving just a hide undershirt. Marcus immediately flushed and looked away. He had long ago taken off his fire-resistant armor, but he self-consciously stripped down to his boxer shorts and tip-toed into the water, hoping to escape notice. He didn’t really want her to see his pale, bony arms and stick legs. Lourdvang did though.
“You look like a snow rabbit,” he commented, curling up by the rocks bordering the falls. “After the winter. Maybe we need to get you more food.”
Marcus flushed even brighter as Dree broke out laughing.
“Lourdvang! Social skills!”
Lourdvang closed his eyes. “Just an observation.”
Feeling his cheeks burning, Marcus quickly waded out into the water. Goose bumps raced up his entire body. The water was freezing cold, but it was incredibly clear and the current was gentle and relaxing. Dree shot Marcus a lopsided grin and then dove into the pool like an otter, disappearing below the surface and splashing Marcus with icy water. He gasped as she emerged in the middle of the pool, heading for the waterfall.
Dree climbed up onto the rocks and proceeded to wipe the dirt and grime from her body, letting the water crash around her.
Dree looked at him. “You going to join me or what?”
Marcus hesitated and then climbed up onto the rocks beside her. They both laughed as the water pummeled them like torrential rain, and Dree had to grab Marcus’s arm at one point to keep him from spilling backward into the deep water.
“Clean yet?” she called.
“I guess,” he said.
“Good!”
She pushed him right off the rock, and he yelped and plunged into the water, the current carrying him back into the gentle eddy in the middle of the pool.
After a while, they both climbed back onto the shore and dried themselves in the sun.
“Well?” Lourdvang rumbled.
“It was a good idea,” Dree said.
“A very good idea,” Marcus agreed, stretching out.
Marcus turned back to the sky again, looking at the snowcapped mountains and the brilliant morning sun, realizing with a start that he had barely even thought about Jack or Brian the entire time he had been in Dracone. What was wrong with him? Why did this place feel so much more right than his life in Arlington?
He tried to shake the feeling, but as he snuck a glimpse at Dree, he realized that he wasn’t even sure he wanted to go home.
Beside him, Dree was thinking that she didn’t want Marcus to leave either.
Two days later, the three of them gathered around the hybrid once again. I
f they were tired the first time they’d tested her, they were well beyond that now. They had checked over every section, and Marcus had finally realized that the power cells weren’t quite aligned, which he hoped explained the outage. But Dree also had to weld the leg back on, and while she was at it, she had fortified every single joint and pivot and surface on the hybrid. She had even double plated the wings for more armor.
It was a little bulkier, but far stronger. Baby Hybrid was ready.
Without thinking, Dree reached out and took Marcus’s hand. Heat raced between them, shooting tingles up both their arms, but Marcus held on. They were both nervous.
Dree nodded at Lourdvang, and he bent down in front of the shaft again.
“Here goes nothing,” he growled.
He breathed a stream of fire into the hybrid, and once again, it lit up.
“Baby Hybrid,” Marcus said, squeezing Dree’s fingers. “Fly.”
The hybrid thrummed and shifted as it stood, the engines immediately kicking in and lifting it off the ground. It was silent and smooth, just as they had hoped. It rose higher and higher, stopping about five feet from the ceiling, which was also a good sign. It meant the sensors were working and it wouldn’t fly into a wall.
Marcus and Dree exchanged an anxious look.
“Follow us,” Marcus said.
They hurried out into the main cavern. Baby Hybrid followed closely behind, moving slowly and shakily as it floated through the opening. The other dragons looked at them in shock as they hurried outside to the ledge, the hybrid still hovering along behind them. Its eyes blazed orange, and its metal jaw caught the morning light. It looked like some nightmarish version of a dragon, but smaller and more awkward. It was flying, though, and there were machine guns beneath each wing, as well as ten missiles sitting in the bay in its gut, left in place from the original drone.
It had all the firepower of the drones, along with the fire of a dragon.
As they walked out on the ledge, Dree and Marcus turned to the hybrid.