He pulled up as he reached the treetops and skimmed along the tops of them, up the side of the hill, over and out of the valley. He kept going, beating his wings hard to speed up. Level now, somewhat stable, Kay had a chance to see where the plane had gone. The plane was on the wrong side of the border, and this time it looked to be on purpose. But that was crazy.
The jet had looped around and was following them.
It had seen her. That was the only reason why it had turned. The pilot had seen her and Artegal together and had to investigate. The dragon was growling with every breath; he’d seen the jet following them. They both knew he couldn’t outrun it.
But she didn’t expect Artegal to slow down.
The whole sky seemed to be filled with the mechanical roar of the jet. It echoed and thundered like Artegal’s roar had, but felt different. It had no breath of living air behind it.
The dragon’s flight had become almost lazy. He barely moved his wings, and the trees passing below them slowed to a crawl. Kay wanted to scream at him—why wasn’t he doing something? Why wasn’t he doing more? But his strategy became clear when the jet roared past and raced far beyond them.
Artegal wheeled, changing direction and flapping back the way they’d come, back to the valley where maybe they could hide before the jet had time to loop back around and find them.
But the jet did a flip in midair. Artegal stopped and hovered. The plane overshot them—then it pivoted, starting another long loop and simply flipping until it faced backward and shot ahead, barely losing momentum. Kay had been watching jets patrol her whole life, and she’d never seen one do that. They weren’t supposed to be able to do that. The dragons had always been more maneuverable.
Artegal panicked. He twisted in midair, wings flapping, shifting, until he launched in yet another direction. Then he flew, straight and fast, not wavering—away from the border, to what he thought of as home and safety. He roared again, and for the first time Kay saw the beast of legend, the dragon that had haunted human tales for thousands of years. No wonder people had been surprised that dragons could speak. A dragon flying over a medieval village, roaring like this, maybe breathing fire, wouldn’t notice people scattering like ants before him. She was just a piece of fluff clinging to his scaled hide, helpless. The direction that meant safety to Artegal meant a greater danger to her.
The jet, for whatever reason, did not follow them any farther into dragon territory. Again, it did its strange midair flip to match Artegal’s direction, but after following a mile or two, it looped back and rocketed away, south and across the border to human territory.
Kay was relieved. But she couldn’t get Artegal to slow down, to consider landing. He wouldn’t look at her no matter how hard she leaned on the knots in the ropes.
He just kept going, as if terrified of the monster that had chased him.
She huddled on his back and tried to figure out what to do. Really, though, she wouldn’t be able to stop him no matter what he did. She was so small and weak.
Maybe this was why people had started killing dragons. People didn’t like being helpless, and some people weren’t very good at being friends. So people and dragons fought. Now, both sides were too scared to even look at each other. Artegal seemed like he was going to fly all the way to the distant mountains before stopping. If that happened, she was pretty much screwed.
Her parents would never know what happened to her. She’d never see Tam again. She’d never see Jon.
She got up on her hands and knees and pounded her fist on Artegal’s shoulder, putting her whole body into it. He had to feel that—scales flinched under her hand. Then she screamed, “Stop!”
He snorted, shuddered, as if waking up from a nightmare. He spread his wings, which caught the air like sails, and braked, dropping straight down to a clearing below. Kay closed her eyes and sighed, breathing out thanks. Once she was on the ground, she could run. On the ground she could do anything. It was only a hundred feet up that she was helpless.
Hind legs forward, he slammed to the earth, and she slid across his back, yanking hard against her harness. Instead of folding his wings back, he rested them on the ground. His neck slouched, and he was breathing heavily. Exhausted, maybe. Still frightened.
Hands shaking, she unhooked herself and slid down his shoulder. The ground rocked under her. Her legs wobbled, and she sank. It was as if she’d ridden a roller coaster times a million. She sat there, trying to breathe, reminding herself that she was supposed to be running away. She was facing a wall of silvery scales, and a great gray wing was tented almost directly above her.
He raised his head on its long, snakelike neck. She looked back into those onyx eyes. She scrambled backward through dirt and pine needles. She didn’t mean to, but she saw those eyes, that mouth that could close over her in one bite, remembered how scared she was and wanted to get away.
Artegal lowered his neck and head, pressed his body to the ground. Pulled his tail tight around him, making himself smaller. He looked like a rock now, instead of a monster. This was a different kind of frightened.
He said, voice low, “Panicked. Didn’t think of you.”
He was apologizing. This was dragon body language she’d never seen before. Almost like a dog with its tail between its legs.
Kay stopped. Her heart was still racing; she was still having trouble catching her breath. But she didn’t want to run away anymore. This wasn’t his fault. He’d been frightened—of course he had, they both had. Like he’d said, no one had ever done this before. They were still learning.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice shaking.
He drew a couple of deep, steadying breaths. Then he said, “That plane. Flew like a dragon.” And that was what terrified him. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it. I could ask—my mom might know something. The bureau must be freaking.” She stood, brushed dirt off her hands, looked around. She had no idea where she was. North of home. That was all. “I have to get back. I have to get back right now.” She was miles from the border. This was completely different from being able to hop over the creek to get back home.
“The plane. Saw us. Yes?”
It hadn’t just seen them, it had followed them. “Yeah.”
“What will they do?” he said.
“I don’t know. It depends on if they figure out who I am. I have to go back and find out.” She was going to get in so much trouble. She could just feel it.
“We should stay away from the border,” he said. “For a little while.”
And how long was a little while? A lump stuck in her throat, because this felt so final. A real good-bye this time. She didn’t want to go, not knowing when she’d be able to come back. “Then…then I guess I’d better get going. Let’s get that stuff off you—”
He sat up, his neck curled, his usual pose. “Will carry you. As far as I can.”
After his panicking and flying blind, she may have hesitated ever riding him again. But she didn’t. It wasn’t his fault—they’d both been scared. Besides, she could either ride him or hike for hours with climbing gear slung on her back.
They didn’t fly again; Artegal carried her on foot. Compared to the headlong flight, it was slow going. The motion wasn’t a smooth glide, but rocking that almost made her sick. It took a lot more effort for him, and he was getting tired. She was going to be much later than expected getting home. If there was any kind of an uproar going on about the jet, her parents would be livid.
As soon as she recognized the lay of the land, the slope of hills, she tapped Artegal’s shoulder. “I can walk from here, I think,” she called.