“So you knew about it,” she said. “You knew it was going to happen.” And you didn’t stop it, you didn’t warn me, you didn’t say anything.
“Not before. After. I almost told them about you. To persuade them not to do it again, if I could.”
“Could you? Would they have listened?” The human military finding out about her and Artegal hadn’t stopped the bombings. Branigan was driven; he had plans, or else he wouldn’t have wanted to her to spy.
Artegal didn’t say anything, so she knew the answer was no. “Now it’s too big to stop,” she said.
“And yet, you risked coming here. I hoped you might. I did not think you would.” He tilted his head—glancing up, she realized. He’d been glancing up every minute or so, looking for aircraft or dragons.
She told him, “They want me to spy. They keep bombing, but they don’t know where to go. They don’t know exactly where you live, and they want me to find out. I’m supposed to spy.”
“Surely they’re watching now.”
Scrambling, she stood and looked around, through all the trees, upward to the crisp blue sky. The forest was very quiet. She only heard Artegal breathing, like a whisper of air through the trees.
They could be anywhere. Soldiers hiding in the trees, waiting to strike. They wouldn’t kill him, she quickly thought. They wanted to talk, they wanted contact with them, that was what they’d told her. But they might try to capture him.
And what if they did? Wouldn’t everyone say that she was supposed to want revenge? Shouldn’t she be feeling angry?
Her father used to say that his job wasn’t about catching the bad guys so much as keeping the peace, that he got further by being friends with people than by being a hard-ass, that if the people in his jurisdiction felt like he was their friend, they wouldn’t want to break the law. They wouldn’t want to disappoint him, not because he was the sheriff, but because he was their friend.
Her mind moved quickly, turning over everything her father had said, any advice he may have given her about this. Also, what her mother said, about taking care of herself rather than worrying about the rest of the world. And what the military said, about staying out of jail and doing her duty. But she kept going back to what her father said about keeping the peace.
And she realized that the military wanted to keep her a secret. They hadn’t released the photos or news that Kay and Artegal had flown together because they didn’t want anyone to know that a person and a dragon could work together, could be friends. But if people knew, if they saw—
“What are you thinking?” Artegal watched her. She’d frozen, standing still, staring at nothing as she pondered.
“Can you come back tomorrow?” she asked.
“If I am careful, yes.”
“We need to fly again,” she said.
He snorted. His eyes widened, and he raised his head—a gesture of surprise. “It won’t stay secret.”
“We don’t want it to. We want everyone to see. That means the military can’t keep it secret, either. We want everyone to see it. Your people, my people, everyone.”
He thought for a moment. A back claw scratched a furrow in the earth. “Dangerous for us.”
It was. She couldn’t pretend that it wouldn’t be. She’d get in trouble with her people, he’d get in trouble with his. They may never see each other again. But it seemed worth it, just to show people what they could do.
She felt insane when she grinned and said, “Yeah, but if we don’t, we’ll always wonder if we could have made a difference.”
He made the curl in his lip that meant he was smiling. “For all their long years, dragons are not so daring.”
“Then you think we shouldn’t—”
“I will be here tomorrow. Take care.”
“You too.” He was already backing up, turning his bulk through the trees as he slipped away. She waited until she couldn’t see him before she ran back.
When she reached the clearing where her mother had parked, Kay stopped at the edge of the trees and stared. Her mother was outside the car, leaning on the hood, a strained look in her eyes.
Two more cars—dark sedans with monochrome government plates—had pulled into the space behind her, and a group of men in uniform were milling around. General Branigan was there, leaning on one of the sedans, an echo of her mother. A couple of guys in olive green fatigues carried machine guns and seemed to be patrolling, moving around the fringes of the clearing and looking into the trees.
Artegal was right. They’d followed her. They were keeping track of her.
This was going to be hard. What she should have done was make herself look disappointed. She should have buried all her anticipation, excitement—and fear. She should have trudged back slowly and used the time to think of a story, either that she hadn’t seen Artegal at all or that she had, but she couldn’t convince him to tell her anything. But she hadn’t thought of it, because her mind was racing with a plan. She considered lying to them, telling them that Artegal hadn’t been there, she hadn’t talked to him, and she would have to try again another time. But she didn’t know how far they’d followed her or how much they’d seen and heard. She assumed they’d been too far away to hear, but she couldn’t be sure. If they’d heard the conversation, they’d know they couldn’t trust her.
Kay’s mother straightened, and her face suddenly shone with relief. “Kay?”
Kay met her and let herself be embraced. But she looked over Mom’s shoulder at the military people, who studied her warily.
“Are you okay? Is everything okay?” Mom said.
“It’s fine.”
A moment later, Branigan was standing next to them. “Well?”
Her mother stiffened, frowning with a spark of anger. Kay knew she’d protect her if she could. Kay didn’t need anyone looking out for her; just the same, it made her feel stronger.
“‘Well’ what?” Kay said.
“What happened?” Branigan said, enunciating, clearly frustrated. Good, Kay thought.
After a moment, Kay said, “Nothing.”
“Was it there? Did you talk to it?”
“Yeah.”
“Well?” Branigan demanded again. Kay thought that he probably didn’t have kids.
She shrugged. “It’s going to take time. I can’t come out and ask how many dragons there are and where they live. I have to be sneaky about it, right? That’s what spying’s all about, isn’t it?”
He glared. “I thought you said it was your friend.”
“He, not it,” she said softly. “I just need more time.”
“You don’t have more time!” He was done being the nice, benevolent father-figure, which was okay, because Kay had been done with him a while ago. “I’m not going to sit by and let a kid like you play games when the fate of humanity is at stake.”
Was that at stake? The whole fate of humanity? Branigan was wrong, it didn’t all depend on her, but the general had lost control of the big picture. All he could do now was harass her. Like her mother’s anger, that knowledge made her feel stronger.
“There wouldn’t be a problem if you had just left things the way they were,” Kay said.
“As long as those animals exist, humanity’s in danger,” he said.
So, he was a bigot. That made dealing with him easier.
“Sir,” she said, because it would appease him, “I’ll try again tomorrow. I’m coming back to talk to him then. I’ll try again.”
“You’re not telling it anything, are you?”
“I don’t know anything to tell him.”
Branigan seemed satisfied at that. She thought, What a small-minded man. He thought he knew what she was thinking.
“I look forward to seeing some progress,” the general said. Kay nodded.