Voices of Dragons by Carrie Vaughn Page A

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
    â€œKay, 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.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Kay said. Suddenly anxious, she knew that something had to be wrong.
    â€œNothing, everything’s okay. I just thought you’d be more comfortable in your bed.”
    â€œYeah, 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.”
    â€œI saw you on the news.”
    She rolled her eyes. “They didn’t even let me run a brush through my hair.”
    â€œYou looked fine. You sounded good.”
    â€œYou, on the other hand, look beat. Did you eat something?”
    â€œYeah, some pizza,” Kay mumbled. She didn’t say anything about Jon coming over.
    â€œGood. 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 malfunctiondidn’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 theone who sounded