The dragon lowered its head. <We don’t care.>
“You should.” I stepped forward, sylph fanning around me. “Because when it happens, the earth will crack open and fire will spit out. There’s an enormous volcano under the city, powerful enough to make the surrounding lands boil. You’re far away from the volcano, but not that far. Not far enough. Ash will rain all over your hunting grounds, smothering the plants and animals. This frozen land will be even colder and deadlier.”
<Why do you want our help?> Acid Breath angled his face at me so that one of his eyes was an arm’s length away, and the ringing in my ears intensified. <You hate us as much as we hate you.>
“I—I don’t hate you.” Though I certainly hated whatever dragons had killed Sam in previous generations. And maybe some of the dragons from Templedark, but several of those were dead. “I came because I thought you would like another chance to destroy the temple.” And how did one bring up a mysterious weapon?
<It will only mend. Our journey will be futile, as you said, and humans will kill us. We aren’t like you. We don’t come back.> Acid Breath settled back onto the wall, jaw propped on one forefoot. <If our hunting grounds are destroyed, we will go somewhere else.>
This couldn’t be it. I couldn’t have come all this way, actually succeeded in speaking to dragons, only to be turned down.
An idea sparked in my mind. “What happens when Janan begins hunting dragons?”
Acid Breath rumbled, as did the others. <What?>
I nodded. “When Janan ascends, he’s going to be immortal. Maybe unkillable. He stole a phoenix’s magic and made himself like this. But before, five thousand years ago, he was the leader of a group of people—the people who live in the city right now. And considering how many times they’ve been killed by dragons, I’m sure Janan will want some kind of revenge.”
It could happen. Maybe.
<He won’t harm dragons. He cannot.>
“Are you sure?” Everything inside me twisted, numb from what I was about to say. In spite of what they’d done, I didn’t want to hurt my sylph. It was the same as with Sam and all my other friends. They’d made a decision or followed orders, yes, but that was five thousand years ago. It hadn’t been just another lifetime, it had been another world. They’d all changed. Their decisions from then didn’t affect my love for them now. “Because five thousand years ago, Janan and his warriors trapped a phoenix.”
The sylph shivered and whined.
<Phoenixes cannot be caught.>
“They can.” I made my voice hard. “They can and they have been. You may think Janan won’t or can’t come after you, but if humans had menaced dragons for the last five thousand years, wouldn’t you want revenge?”
Acid Breath lifted his head and looked at the others, and the ringing in my ears intensified. I couldn’t understand what they said to one another, but there was definitely something going on. Wings tensed. Words crackled around the edges of my thoughts, but the dialogue—what I could hear of it—didn’t seem complete. There was something in the way they moved that added to the conversation—something I couldn’t quite understand.
But the fragments I could hear—they were interesting.
<She wants us to destroy the temple.>
<And the song?>
<She doesn’t have it. I don’t see it in her.>
<Perhaps she hates the one with the song.>
<We should help.>
<We should destroy her before she destroys us.>
<She can’t. She doesn’t have the song.>
<Test it.>
Finally, the lead dragon turned back to me and settled on the wall. <Make a song for us again. Like you did earlier.>
“What?” I needed to ask them about the weapon the temple books had mentioned, and whether they could use it to fight Janan. But they were interested in a song?
The dragon growled, its anger rippling across the forest. <The song you made to lure us here. Make another one so we can hear.>
“Play my flute?” My words came out like squeaks as I lifted my flute, making the sylph stir with anticipation.
-Will the dragons help?- Cris asked me.
<Now!>
I stepped backward and held my flute to my chin.
The others began with a low hum that rolled across me, through me. I shifted my shoulders to readjust my backpack, still weighing me down, then played a few scales and arpeggios to warm up. The dragons grew still, watchful.