Her mother squeezed her hand again. She hadn’t let go all this time.
“We just talked. Really. He isn’t a spy,” Kay said.
Branigan smiled that awful fake smile again. “We know you’d like to think that. Tell me, Miss Wyatt—why did you cross the border in the first place?”
“I told you, it was an accident. I fell in the creek and he—the dragon—pulled me out. He saved my life.”
“I hate to start making accusations,” Branigan said, but Kay got the feeling he was all too happy to make them. “But it sounds like if you managed to get close enough to the border to fall over it, the local Federal Bureau of Border Enforcement may have gotten a little sloppy.”
“Now wait just a minute,” Mom said, straightening and glaring across the table.
“General, if I may,” Captain Conner said, hand raised. “I’ve been in those woods, and if someone determined enough wanted to get across the border, they could. Especially someone who grew up around here and knew the area and FBBE procedures. Am I right?”
“Nothing bad happened,” Kay said again, pleading. “We weren’t hurting anything.”
“Young lady, we’re at war here,” Branigan said.
“That’s your fault,” she replied. She continued, before he could yell at her. “What’s going to happen to me? I broke the law by crossing the border, I know. I knew it then. I’m the one who crossed, not him. So what’s going to happen to me?” Whatever it was, she just wanted to get it over with. She wanted it all to be over.
Mom’s boss, the regional bureau director, should have been the one to answer that question. There were no cops in the room. It was his jurisdiction. But he, her mother, everyone, in fact, looked at General Branigan. Kay didn’t want him to decide what happened to her.
“None of us is out to get you, Miss Wyatt. The situation we’re in right now is a little too unusual to be worrying about something like that. But I think what you’ve given us here is an opportunity. I think you may be able to help us, if you’re willing. If not—well, you’re right. You’ve broken the law. Pretty spectacularly.”
Mom’s hand clenched even more tightly around hers. Branigan’s meaning was clear. She’d help, or she was screwed. Kay didn’t see how that was any choice at all. She had to play their game. She had a bad feeling she knew what he wanted.
The general said, “If we asked you to, do you think you could get in touch with this dragon again? You see, Miss Wyatt, you probably know more about the dragons than anyone else in this room. And we need to find out as much as we can about them. I think you can help us do that. Miss Wyatt—Kay—think about your father. Think about what they did to him. This is your chance to do something about that. Do you understand?”
Except that her father worked to keep the peace, that was how he saw himself. He wouldn’t have wanted her to take revenge. He’d wanted to keep the peace. He’d always said keeping the peace was easier when you made friends rather than made threats.
“Well?” Branigan said. “Will you help us?”
“It’s just talking,” Conner said. “We just want you to talk.” Although the glare Branigan threw him said that maybe the general didn’t quite agree.
That was it, then. Artegal may not have been a spy, but Branigan wanted to turn her into one. She didn’t know more about dragons. She just knew Artegal.
Kay’s head really started swimming, but her response was mechanical. It wasn’t much of a choice at all. She nodded, agreeing, because she would have done nearly anything to get out of that room just then.
17
Kay and her mother drove home from the meeting in silence. Kay didn’t know whether to be terrified or furious. The general’s threat had been obvious—spying was the only way she’d stay out of jail. At seventeen, she could be tried as an adult and sent to prison. But they were using her. She hated that.
When her mother spoke, she did so softly. “It’s almost funny. All that bombing isn’t having an effect because they don’t know what their targets are. Those bombing runs have been random. They have satellite and infrared photos that show where their dragons may live, but they also think the dragons may be making decoys, setting fires to make some areas look hotter. So they need information. They need you, Kay. I can’t believe they’re basing their strategy on what a teenager can tell them,” she muttered.
“What if I don’t do it?” Kay said. “I could just not do it.”
“Besides the fact they’ll send you to jail? Without specific targets, they’ll start using more destructive weapons. Branigan’s talking nukes, but he doesn’t have that authority. At least not yet.”
He would do that? Kay thought, disbelieving. Did he think it was okay to destroy that much land, to risk the radiation—to make such a large area unusable for everyone, just on the chance that it might harm the dragons? Did he hate the dragons that much? She didn’t understand. Even before she’d met Artegal, she wouldn’t have understood wanting to destroy the mountains and forest to get to the dragons, who just kept to themselves, after all.
Kay’s mother continued as if speaking were difficult. “I know you think of the dragon as your friend. I know you think of this as betraying him. But, Kay, he doesn’t need you to protect him. He can take care of himself. You have to think about you. And your family. I can’t lose you, Kay. I can’t lose you, too.” She shook her head in a slow denial, staring straight ahead over the steering wheel with wide eyes.
Kay and her mother had only each other now. Kay loved her mother, of course, but this felt like a burden. Kay could barely keep her own head on straight; she couldn’t keep her mother safe, too.
The next day, she dressed for winter hiking and packed a backpack of supplies. She was vaguely relieved that she wouldn’t have to worry about sneaking around this time. She had official military sanction for what she was doing now.
She found her mother in the living room, curled up with a blanket around her, clutching a mug of steaming coffee. The whole house smelled like fresh coffee. It was a sign of normality—but a little normality made things seem even more surreal. On a usual morning, Mom would have been at work before dawn. Kay would have been getting ready for school, but she hadn’t been back since the fire. Her mother was watching TV, but not news. A shopping channel or an infomercial. Something completely neutral. Even more surreal.
Kay stood for a long time wondering what she should say. Maybe she should just leave her mother alone. But she couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that to her mother.
“I’m going,” she said.
Mom looked at her like she hadn’t understood.
“He probably won’t even be there, so I’ll be back in a couple of hours, I think,” Kay continued. “I won’t go far, I promise. Just to our usual spot across the border. I wouldn’t know where else to go anyway.”
Then Mom started to get up, setting aside coffee mug and blanket. “I should go with you. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”
Kay held up a hand to stop her. “No, Mom. It’s okay. I can do this.”
The look of anguish on Mom’s face was as bad as Kay had ever seen it. Like the world was falling apart all over again.
“Mom, I’ll be careful.”
“At least let me drive you there.” She went for her coat across the arm of the sofa and her purse on the dining room table.
Kay started to argue, then didn’t, because it would be easier just to let her mother drive her. And if it made Mom feel better, well, it didn’t cost Kay anything.
Kind of nice, Kay thought, not having to worry about hiding the Jeep.