Dragons vs. Drones (11 page)

Chapter
13

D
ree looked around in wonder as they followed Lourdvang into Forost, a place that no human had set foot in for over a decade. It was brighter than the Flames' lair, as multiple tunnels to the surface let pale daylight spill into the cavern. Dragons didn't need furniture or care much for decor, so it too was just barren stone, but everything felt a little less ominous, if only because she felt far safer with Nightwings.

Still, Dree and Marcus could feel dozens of eyes on them as they walked into the cavern, where a large crowd of dragons had already gathered. They glared at the humans as they walked by, and Dree heard many of the dragons muttering in their language. She knew the ones at the gate had spoken the human tongue only so Marcus and Dree
could understand them and be suitably afraid. Mostly, when dragons talked to one another, they stuck to their own language. Grumbles and hisses and snorts filled the room as the creatures conversed.

Erdath stepped onto a raised stone dais—much like the one Helvath had been perched upon, though thankfully not made of bones—and looked down at them. Marcus couldn't be sure, but he thought that Erdath seemed sad as he stared at Dree and Marcus. He looked like a wizened old man.

“It has been a long time since a human stood before me,” he said.

Dree bowed her head. “That is the fault of my people.”

“You're right,” he agreed. “But it is the sadness of mine.”

Dree felt a sharp stab of guilt. Humans had turned against the dragons, not the other way around. They had expanded into dragon territory, they had hunted them like deer, and then, to add to the insult, they had worn their fangs and scales like jewelry. Humans had turned on their ancient friends, and they had done so swiftly and without apology.

“Tell me,” Erdath said, “what are these things that have taken over our skies?”

Dree opened her mouth to speak, but Marcus beat her to it. He had been looking around the room in awe, amazed at the assembly of dragons. This was a community of sentient, intelligent beings, which made the fact that he had seen their body parts for sale in the city all the more disturbing.

“They're called drones,” he said.

Lourdvang turned to Marcus, his eyes narrowing again.

“Drones?” Erdath asked.

Marcus nodded. “They're automated machines, meaning there are no people inside of them. They can be controlled from anywhere, and they are very dangerous. They have heavy armor, air-to-surface missiles, and dual machine guns.” Erdath tilted his head in confusion. “Guns . . . they're weapons that shoot tiny pointed pieces of metal. The metal looks invisible because it moves so quickly, but guns are extremely deadly.”

“How do you know all of this?” Erdath asked.

“Because they come from the same place I do,” Marcus said, shifting his eyes to the ground. “The United States. I've seen them before. Well, the one kind with the red eyes, anyway. But I don't know what they want or why they're attacking Dracone. It doesn't make any sense.”

Dree stared at him, scowling. Marcus had never mentioned that he'd seen the drones before.

“These machines have killed one of my kin already,” Erdath growled.

“And hundreds of mine,” Dree said, looking up at the ancient dragon. “That's why we've come. We want to find a way to destroy them, and we need your help.”

“How do you know Lourdvang?” Erdath asked suddenly, as if the thought had only just occurred to him.

Lourdvang shifted, and Dree spoke before he could say anything. “He saved our lives. We were under attack in the city, and he swooped down and saved us.”

“Is this true?” Erdath asked, turning to Lourdvang.

“It is,” Lourdvang said, not meeting Erdath's eyes.

Erdath watched him for a moment, and then looked at Dree. “And what do you want from us?”

“Help. We want you to attack the drones and destroy them.”

“I see,” he replied softly.

Erdath looked out over the assembled dragons, and Marcus watched as he seemed to consider each one individually.

Finally, he spoke. “We cannot help you.”

Dree started and turned to Lourdvang, who looked surprised.

“Why not?” Lourdvang demanded.

“Because I believe these drones are after the humans,” Erdath said calmly. “The dragon that was killed was flying near a human settlement. I don't think he was targeted. You say the drones have killed hundreds of humans, and I doubt the attacks are done. I have ordered all my clan to remain in the mountain until these drones leave Dracone.”

He met Dree's eyes, looking sad.

“Once I might have risked our clan to help humans—once they were our brothers and sisters. But those days are long past, lost in the memories of my dead kin. We will not punish you for asking, and you may leave this place unharmed, but we will not help you. If the drones wipe out your people, I will weep for them, but my children will be safer. Take shelter for now, if you wish, and make your plans. If Lourdvang wants to help you, so be it.”

Dree sat perched against Lourdvang's stomach, feeling his familiar heat running through her. They were sitting in a shadowy corner of the main cavern, partially hidden from the scrutinizing eyes of the others. They had decided to stay there for the moment, until they could come up with some sort of plan. But no matter how hard Dree tried, she couldn't see a way to defeat the machines without the help of the Nightwings. Even with Lourdvang by their side, they were outmatched—and there was no one else to turn to.

The Outliers would attack on sight if Dree and Marcus went to their lair, and the Sages wouldn't fight even if Dree could find them. The Flames, of course, weren't an option—they'd sooner die than help the humans or another dragon clan.

Dree watched as Marcus paced back and forth, wringing his hands and muttering to himself. He had spoken very little since they had gotten to the cavern, and he kept checking his phone.

Marcus just kept mumbling questions.

“But how can the remote transmitter be reaching them?”

“Can the drones cross back and forth through the portal?”

“Is there some way to block the signal?”

Dree was busy wondering if her family was all right. It had killed her to leave the city without checking on them, but she knew they would have nowhere to hide if the drones decided to level Dracone. Until the drones were destroyed, her family was in danger.

She had originally thought she could use Lourdvang to attack the drones, but having seen them in action a few times now, she knew that even Lourdvang didn't stand much chance against five drones. Marcus was right: They would tear his wings to ribbons.

“Have you made any more weapons?” Lourdvang asked her quietly.

She shook her head. “No. And without access to the forge, I can't make anything. Besides, I don't think any of my weapons would do much good against flying steel. My weapons were designed to fight soldiers—to protect you from lances and arrows and spears.”

“Where did you meet this boy?” Lourdvang asked quietly, eyeing Marcus as he paced.

“The street. He appeared out of nowhere.”

“Do you think he's connected to these drones?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “Maybe. But they tried to kill him like everyone else, and he seemed just as surprised to see them.”

“I don't trust him.”

“I know,” Dree said. “But I don't think he's involved.”

Lourdvang snorted, blowing out a cloud of black smoke.

Marcus was still marching around, muttering under his breath and adjusting his glasses. He was completely covered in soot, but he had wiped the glasses, and Dree could see his gray eyes scanning over the phone.

“Besides,” Dree said. “I still think he's our best chance to figure out—”

Marcus suddenly froze, staring at something on the far wall. The cavern walls had looked barren at first glance, but he saw now that wasn't the case. There was something written on the stone near the entrance. Without another word, he sprinted over to the wall.

“I knew it,” he whispered.

Dree and Lourdvang exchanged a look and then followed him over.

“What is it?” Dree asked, examining the numbers and letters on the wall.

Marcus just stared at them in silence, scanning over the complicated pattern. It was drawn with some sort of black clay—it must have taken hours of work. Marcus doubted it came from the dragons. There was no way they could write with their massive black claws. He wasn't even sure it was written by anyone in Dracone. The sequence of numbers, dashes, and semicolons . . . they could be only one thing: code. Someone had written an extremely complex programming code on the wall. He couldn't understand it, but it meant his suspicions had been confirmed. Someone from his world had been there.

And there, small at the bottom, was the symbol. Three rectangles, but no eyes. It was the same symbol that had been carved into his father's desk. Could it have been him?

“How long has this been here?” he asked, turning to Lourdvang.

“Many years,” Lourdvang said. “Erdath told me that a human put it there. It's just nonsense.”

“No,” Marcus said softly, turning back to the wall and carefully running his hands over the numbers. “It's computer code. Programming.”

Dree was confused. “Do you know what it means?”

“No,” he said, “not yet.”

Marcus removed his phone from his pocket and took a picture of the writing, the flash lighting up the cavern. He could plug the code into his laptop later and analyze it with HTML software.

“Did Erdath know the human's name? Did he ever tell you?”

“No,” Lourdvang said. “The man never said his name. He came twice. The first time he came asking about the Egg, and when Erdath told him the Flames had it, he left. He returned a few years later and asked to leave this message here.”

“The Egg?” Marcus asked.

“Ancient dragon magic,” Dree replied. “A relic with terrible power.”

Marcus turned back to the wall. Could this mysterious man really have been his father, or was it someone else? Someone who wanted Dracone's treasures.

He thought about the rolling green fields, the untapped mountain ranges, and the lake stretching off into the horizon. This world was probably full of resources: oil and gold and diamonds. Bizarre creatures and artifacts that could be priceless on Earth.

A new theory abruptly fell into place. One that explained the appearance of the drones and the vicious attacks on the
city. He couldn't prove it yet, but it made an awful lot of sense.

Maybe whoever was controlling those drones didn't want Marcus. They wanted Dracone and the rest of this unspoiled world. The implications hit him right in the gut. His father might have figured it out. What if he had disappeared that day to
close
the portal?

If that was true, then Marcus had just undone his father's work. He met Dree's eyes, the grim truth finally revealing itself. It was even worse than he thought.

“I think I know why the drones are attacking,” he said. “And if I'm right, they won't stop until every living thing in Dracone has been completely wiped out.”

Chapter
14

D
ree stared at Marcus, confused. “I don't understand. Who is attacking us?”

Marcus turned back to the code. He scanned over the numbers again, his lips moving with silent words. It was highly advanced programming—much more complicated than anything he had ever attempted. He used HTML to build websites and even to hack into media databases, looking for unpublished stories about his father's disappearance—but that was child's play compared with this. As far as he could tell, this code was layered with variable instructions and open-ended algorithms. It could deliver messages like any other, but it could also decide by itself the best way to fulfill its mission. It was highly advanced artificial
intelligence, unusual and very complex. It also gave him a very strong indication of what this code was for.

“The place where I come from,” Marcus said. “It's a country called the United States of America. My father worked for the government there.”

“So?”

“So when my father disappeared eight years ago, he took off suddenly and never told me where he was going. Agents showed up the next day and said he was a spy and a traitor and all these terrible things that I never believed. Now I think I know why.”

He gestured around them.

“The government already knew about Dracone. They'd already been here. And they found a new world full of resources and minerals . . . unclaimed. Everything is untapped here: gold, oil, diamonds, even water. It's priceless, and they can access it through a rift in space. Immeasurable resources . . . all available within their own borders.”

Dree rubbed her forehead. “You're losing me.”

“I think the U.S. government wants Dracone for itself. If they destroy all of Dracone's citizens and the dragons, they can take this entire world and use all of its resources. I believe my father found out about this and tried to stop them. He came here and tried to disrupt the storms—the portals to Dracone—but now the storms have started again, and the government has sent in the drones to wipe you all out.”

The information was too much for Dree. So much of
it didn't make any sense, but there was one thing that had stood out to her.

“The drones came in a storm?”

Marcus nodded. “Yes. In my world a violent storm appears once every year. The date counted down, and on the final day the portal opened.”

Dree narrowed her eyes. “You came in a storm.”

Marcus stopped, shifting uncomfortably. He adjusted his glasses, refusing to meet her stone-faced gaze. Beside Dree, Lourdvang was watching in silence. He wondered how the enormous dragon would react. Hopefully not by eating him.

“Yes,” he said softly. “I came in the same storm. They were chasing me in my world, and . . . I think they followed me through the portal.”

Dree didn't even think. She just cocked her fist and punched Marcus right in the chin. He dropped, stunned by the unexpected blow. She stood over him, her fists balled and quivering. He had brought the drones here. He was responsible for the deaths of all those people. He had put her family in danger.

“I deserved that,” Marcus managed, rubbing his chin. “But it wasn't my fault.”

“You just said—”

“They followed me,” he said weakly, looking up at her. “I don't think they knew how to find the portal. I didn't know. . . . I just rode into the center of the storm. I was trying to find my father.”

Dree softened. Marcus's voice had a pleading tone to
it, and Dree could hear his terrible guilt. She understood searching for a father. She was always looking for hers—the proud man he used to be. She loosened her fists and stepped back, crossing her arms across her chest instead.

Marcus slowly pushed himself to his feet.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I never wanted this. I'll help you stop them.”

“How?” she snarled, not ready to forgive him quite yet.

She had saved his life, dragging him through the streets of Dracone and even onto Lourdvang's back. All that time, he had known exactly what the drones were and where they had come from, but he hadn't been honest. He may not have orchestrated the attacks, but he was at least partly responsible for them.

Marcus hesitated. “I don't know yet. But I know what they're doing, and I believe this code may have something to do with it.” He patted his bag. “I probably have another couple of days of power on my laptop if I leave it off, so we have to move quickly.”

Dree was still reluctant, and she looked at Lourdvang. He stared at Marcus.

“Why should we trust you?” he asked.

“Because if I had anything to do with those drones, I could call them here right now and kill you all.”

Dree and Marcus exchanged a resigned look.

“So we have to find the drones,” Dree said.

Marcus nodded. “Yeah. But how to find them without being killed is the question.” He met her eyes. “I am sorry, really.”

Dree kind of wanted to hit him one more time, but she knew he was being sincere. And maybe he could help her stop the drones. It might be their only chance.

“Fine,” she muttered. “But from now on you tell me the truth—”

She was interrupted as a Nightwing suddenly swept into the cavern, skidding to a halt in the center of the room. He was clearly young, half the size of Lourdvang and so black he looked like a living shadow. He also seemed agitated, hurrying toward the circular stone dais, which was currently empty. Erdath emerged from a back cavern.

“We were worried, Ralar,” he rumbled. “You were gone too long.”

Ralar replied in the rasping dragon tongue, and Dree and Marcus hurried over to see what was going on, followed by Lourdvang. Erdath glanced at them.

“Speak in the human tongue,” he ordered.

Ralar seemed confused and then noticed Dree and Marcus for the first time. He started, stepping away from them and lowering his head menacingly.

“It's fine,” Erdath said impatiently. “Speak.”

The dragon looked reluctant but continued. “The machines do not tire. They travel the skies like a flock of fell birds. I have seen three different ones now: some with red eyes, black as night, that watch the cities; others small like sparrows, sweeping the countryside tirelessly; and others white as snow—bigger than the rest—that strike without warning and then vanish again.”

Marcus listened, fascinated. There was a third type as well? Where were they coming from? Was the portal still open? If it was, they needed to close it. Soon.

“What have they attacked?” Erdath asked.

“Everything. Towns have crumbled. The city is hit again and again. I saw dragon hunters try to fight them with steel arrows and spears and hooks, but they were no use against the machines. They were all slain. Three Outliers stumbled across their path, and they were shot out of the sky. I heard them screaming.”

Ralar shuddered, and a sick feeling settled into Dree's stomach. Erdath looked at her, guessing at her thoughts. “Is the city destroyed?”

“Some of it,” Ralar said. “They have not hit the palace yet, nor much of the downtown area. So far it is mostly the outskirts. Even the children are not spared.”

Dree's head popped up. “What do you mean?”

The dragon hesitated. “They attacked one of your schools. It burns even now.”

Dree felt her knees buckle. She could barely speak.

“Was it near the lake?” she whispered.

The dragon nodded. “Yes. It burns right on the water.”

“I'm coming with you,” Marcus said, hurrying after Dree as she raced out of the cavern.

Dree didn't even stop to look at him. There was no time.
Her family was in that school, and if it was burning, they were all in danger. She needed to save them.

A memory flashed by: a little girl in the moonlight making a promise she couldn't keep.

“You're not,” she snapped. “You've done enough.”

“I can help—”

“I don't want your help!”

Lourdvang crouched onto the ledge ahead of her, extending a hind leg so she could scramble up onto his back. She was just about to jump on when Marcus grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. She relented, turning back to him for just a moment.

“Please,” he said.

“Let go of me—”

“I need to help,” he said sharply. “Don't you understand?”

She paused for just a moment, feeling sudden warmth where his slender hand was locked on her arm. She recognized the burning sensation. Fire—just waiting to erupt.

Dree knew she couldn't leave him there anyway. Some of the more aggressive dragons might decide they no longer wanted a human hanging around their lair, in which case they might kill him when Erdath wasn't around. Leaving him alone could be sentencing him to death. More importantly, whatever else Marcus represented, she still had a strong feeling she would need him to defeat the drones. He certainly understood them better than she did.

“Get on,” she barked.

Marcus nodded and climbed on after her, once again
wrapping his arms around her waist. She quickly dug her fingers into the scales on Lourdvang's neck and nodded.

“Let's move!”

Lourdvang didn't waste any time. He launched himself into the air and beat his wings more frantically than she had ever seen before, propelling them through the sky like a cannonball. He gained altitude very fast and then half flew, half dove back toward the city, moving so quickly that Dree could barely open her eyes against the screaming wind.

As they flew, images of her family in the school raced through Dree's mind. She thought back to when Abi was seven, walking with Dree through the south end of the docks. It was already evening—Dree had picked Abi up from rehearsal for a play at school and walked her back, as she had just started at Master Wilhelm's and was working until evening herself. They had to pass a seedy tavern on the way, perched at the edge of the docks. It was a rickety old structure of rotting beams, filled with drunks lurching through the darkness, slurring and vomiting on the street. Dree and Abi stayed on the far side of the road, but as they passed a dark alley, a hand suddenly reached out and grabbed Abi's shoulder.

“Ain't you a pretty thing,” the foul man slurred, stepping out of the shadows.

Dree reacted instantly. She turned around and punched the grizzled older man right in the mouth, dropping him in a splatter of hot blood. As soon as he hit the cobblestone she kicked him hard in the arm, hearing a snap as she broke a bone.

Dree looked down at him in disgust. “Touch her again and I'll kill you,” she spat.

She left him there, a groaning pile of rags. As they quickly walked away from the scene, Abi looked up at her big sister, her eyes betraying a mixture of surprise and fear.

“What was that about?” she asked.

Dree stopped and looked at her. “There are a lot of bad people out there,” she said, taking Abi's hand in hers. “Trust me. But I promise, I will never let anything happen to you. If that means knocking out a few wretched drunks, all the better.” She grinned. “Remind me to teach you how to punch.”

Abi laughed and hugged her tightly, and Dree remembered being afraid even then that she couldn't keep her promise forever. As much as she tried to shield her sister, there was just so much darkness and evil in the world. Now, just two years later, she had already failed her.

It wasn't long before Dree saw black smoke on the horizon, spewing out of the wrecks that now littered the south end of the city. It seemed the drones were mostly attacking the poorer outskirts. That part of the city was a war zone.

“Faster!” she shouted, fighting off an image of her little sister in the flames. If anything happened to Abi, she didn't know what she would do.

Lourdvang tightened his body into an arrow point and dove toward the ground, faster than he'd ever gone before. Dree and Marcus leaned forward as well, lest they risk being blown right off his back by the raging wind. Dree spotted the school near the shore and saw flames shooting out from the
roof like flickering candles. Fire raged all across the area. There were no soldiers to be seen—obviously they had fallen back to the palace.

Above the neighborhood, drones raced across the sky, leveling everything. They made one undiscerning pass after another, destroying homes and shops and carts with equal ferocity. And in the middle of it all, the school was burning, already half-destroyed.

“What should we do?” Lourdvang growled over the wind.

“Drop us and get out of there!” Dree said, preparing to jump off as soon as they touched the ground. She felt her skin burning, but she didn't care. She had to save them.

“I won't leave you—” Lourdvang objected.

“Lead the drones away,” she shouted. “Buy us some time.”

Lourdvang seemed to think about that. “Be careful,” he said.

Dree glanced back at Marcus, who was watching the scene in horror. His hands were trembling on Dree's waist, but he had to leave them there or risk flying off of Lourdvang's back. He wondered if she thought he was a coward—if she did, she was probably right. Either way, he was going to help her.