The dragon had green and gold scales, which reflected in the rising sun as he skimmed over the rooftops, blowing aside chimney smoke with his misty breath. He had no wings, but his six taloned feet stepped on the air as easily as if it was solid ground. He landed on the cobblestones in front of my family's house on Coghill Street. Even hunched over, his yellow eyes were level with the second-story window.

Now, dragons aren't real, so we were pretty terrified. We wondered if the police would show up, and if their muskets would do anything to dragon scales anyway.

But he wasn't here to eat us. He was here to talk. His voice came from the big jewel in his forehead, echoing inside our heads.

"I am here for Roxana Cowen," he said. I hid behind the kitchen table, my face turning pale as he said my name.

My mother stood in the doorway, wielding a rolling pin. "We ain't got a Roxana here," she spat.

The dragon regarded her with amusement. "You misunderstand," he said. "I am here to collect her. She is invited to participate in a competition. The prize is immortality."

I thought of my father, a stonemason, who died of the plague before he could see the completion of the beautiful bridge he helped design. In the River Ward, they say we die with a flicker and a whisper because there isn't enough wood to kindle a blaze of glory. The truth is we die young because there isn't enough food to fill our bellies.

I stood up. "I'm Roxana," I said, "and I accept."

My mother looked at me, her jaw hanging down. "Roxana, no," she said. "You can't go with this dragon."

But I was already packing up my things and running out to meet him. I watched the city grow smaller beneath me as the dragon galloped through the sky, taking me to the strange competition he had promised.

Taking me to the possibility of changing the world.