by Cheree Alsop
The professor’s eyes widened. He felt his head quickly. The little brown bird that had been sitting in the nest gave a perturbed peep and flew to one of the nearby trees. The professor searched deeper in the nest and his mouth fell open. He gingerly withdrew a small egg and held it out.
“Look, Mr. Briscoe. You helped me find it!” he said.
I crossed to him to get a better look at the egg. It wasn’t like any egg I had ever seen before. Instead of an oval shape, the egg was more oblong. Its shell was purple with white specks and looked rather leathery.
“What kind of egg is that?” a boy asked from behind me.
At that moment, the egg stirred in the professor’s hand. His eyes widened. “One that I was not supposed to incubate,” he said.
The egg twitched again. He set it in the middle of a desk. The egg gave another jerk and started rolling to the edge.
“Catch it!” someone shouted.
“Save the egg!”
A girl with red pigtails caught the egg before it could roll off. When she put it back in the middle, she set her book below it to keep it from rolling. The egg shuddered and the rolled toward the other side. A moment later found the egg safely ensconced inside a wall of books.
“It’s hatching,” Alden breathed.
Everyone leaned closer.
Instead of cracking, a tiny set of claws appeared. The claws pulled down, tearing through the leathery shell. Then they withdrew. We held our breaths.
“Do you see it yet?” someone from the back shouted.
Five or six voices hushed him. Silence settled over the group as another set of claws appeared and ripped sideways. A flap of the egg dipped down and a head stuck out.
Gasps sounded all around me; I couldn’t break my gaze from the tiny creature.
“I-is that a dragon?” I asked.
At the sound of my voice, the little head turned. Bright green eyes locked on mine. The creature blinked, its purple eyelids matching the tiny scales on the tip of its nose and around its eyes. The rest of its head and down its neck were black.
The dragon opened its mouth, revealing two rows of sharp-looking tiny fangs. It gave what sounded like a cough; a small blue flame came out so fast I couldn’t move away. The fire hit me square in the face. I closed my eyes, sure my skin was about to be melted. When it didn’t hurt, I opened my eyes again. A scent of mint lingered from the strange flame.
The dragon had pushed out of the egg completely and stood on four claw-tipped legs. Tiny black wings were held tight to its body. Everyone stared as the little creature looked at me and gave a little mewling sound.
“She has chosen you to be her mother,” Professor Seedly said with a very pleased expression.
“What?” I asked in shock.
A few students laughed, but others patted me on the back.
“Lucky,” a boy with green hair said.
“I thought dragons were forbidden,” a girl with orange scales on her face pointed out. I remembered her name to be Fren from conversations in class.
“Oh, they are,” Professor Seedly said with a vigorous nod that upset the bird who had perched in the nest again. “They most definitely are. I wasn’t supposed to have the egg at all, let alone allow it to be incubated.
The little dragon walked on wobbly legs toward me. I didn’t know what to do.
“Hold out your hand,” Fren urged in a hushed voice.
I did so numbly. To my surprise, the little dragon climbed onto my palm and up to my wrist. Its little claws tickled as it crossed my skin. The dragon wrapped around my wrist, its long tail holding it snug, and it closed its eyes. A moment later, a tiny sigh emanated from the little creature.
“Will you look at that!” Professor Seedly said with a grin. “She’s sleeping!”
I lifted my wrist. The little dragon didn’t budge. “Uh, what do I do with it now?”
“She chose you to be her keeper,” Fren said. “Now you have to take care of her.”
“But what if the Mist finds her?” the boy next to me asked.
Professor Seedly shook his head, his gaze sad. “They would destroy her. She is an outlawed creature because the presence of a dragon would undoubtedly also reveal the presence of the mythics that the Mist have tried so hard to keep a secret.”
“Who are the Mist?” I asked, watching the sleeping dragon. Her belly was cool where it pressed against my skin. She weighed little more than a mouse. Wrapped the way she was, she felt securely clasped as though nothing would move her.
“The Mythical Integration and Social Trackers,” another student said. “They help keep us hidden, keep us safe. There are laws against stuff like this,” he concluded in a stern tone.
“Take it easy, Clarence,” Fren told him. “What are you going to do? Turn the dragon in?”
Everyone looked back at the little creature wrapped around my wrist.
Clarence eventually shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t do that.” He reached out a hesitant finger. “Can I pet her?”
It felt strange to be suddenly in charge of a creature I never even knew existed, but everyone looked to me as if I was as much the dragon’s keeper as she apparently thought me to be. I lifted my wrist and the boy ran a finger gently down her scales.
“She’s so smooth,” he said in awe.
“I want to pet her!”
“Me, too!”
I was enveloped by students who took turns to admire the tiny dragon. She slept through it all as though breaking out of the egg had been the most exhausting thing she had ever experienced. I supposed that was entirely true.
“Do you have any other dragon eggs?” Fren asked eagerly.
“Not any that you know of,” the professor replied evasively.
“How much bigger will she get?” I asked the professor.
Professor Seedly watched her with a proud expression as if he had hatched her on purpose. “Not much bigger. She’s a sylph dragon. Her presence is good luck. The fact that she’s chosen you is a good thing for you.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about being unexpectedly selected by a newborn dragon, a species I had always though was something from fairytales. Life hadn’t exactly prepared me for such a circumstance.
“What do I feed it?” I asked, gazing at her worriedly.
“She’ll eat flies and bugs, anything protein,” Professor Seedly replied. “Don’t worry. Pretty soon she’ll be catching her own prey. Dragons this size don’t eat much, I think.”
I glanced at him. He gave me an embarrassed smile. “They’re quite rare. We may be learning this together.”
“I’ll take her if he doesn’t want her,” someone piped up from the back of the group.
Professor Seedly shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. Once a sylph dragon chooses its keeper, they’re bound together. That’s what the blue fire was about. It didn’t burn Mr. Briscoe; it gave him her scent.” He shot me an interested look. “I guess that means even more to a werewolf.”
I was embarrassed by all the attention and replied with a mumbled, “I guess so.”
“What if he refuses to keep her?” the boy in the back persisted.
“She’ll die,” Professor Seedly said, his voice grave. “A sylph is very sensitive. They don’t need much, but they are fiercely loyal and require the same loyalty in return.” He held my gaze, his light blue eyes showing his age. “I know you didn’t plan for this. I had hopes that if the egg ever hatched, I would be the one chosen, but fate is a funny thing. From all I’ve learned here,” he gestured to indicate the plants that filled the room, “I know that nature has its own will. One cannot change the course, one can only find a place within it.” His gaze moved to the dragon when he said, “Do you accept your place in it?”
I nodded, realized he was still looking at the dragon, and said, “I do.”
Professor Seedly gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Keep her protected, Mr. Briscoe,” he said before he turned to the board between two large blueberry bushes. The board showe
d multi-colored drawings of a strange bulbous plant with what looked like fangs.
Professor Seedly lectured on the various varieties of Venus fly trap, including one big enough to devour a horse with pictures showing the one he had raised at the Academy until a student got inexplicably trapped inside. After that, the late Headmaster had forced him to find it another home. Someone said the name Horsey and laughter rippled through the room.
By the end of class, I felt like I belonged with the rest of the students. Whispered conversations about the dragon and how neat it was included me instead of occurring around me. In accepting the dragon, I had inadvertently garnered their respect. It was a unique feeling.
When the bell rang, I approached the professor. He was busy spraying ferns with a water bottle.
“That’s it, Gerald. Everything is going to be just fine. I know you’re worried, but we have to keep on going, just like I told the—”
“Uh, Professor?”
He spun around and blinked at me for a moment, his eyes huge behind his glasses. I held up my hand to show him the still-sleeping dragon around my wrist. Recognition dawned and he nodded.
“Ah, yes. The sylph chose you. How can I help, Mr. Briscoe?”
“Well, uh, what do I do now?” I asked.
I was reluctant say goodbye to the dragon, but I didn’t know what to do with the creature during my other classes.
“Do?” Professor Seedly asked. He blinked again and ran a hand down his tattered white beard. “I don’t understand.”
“With the dragon, Professor. I’m sure you want her to stay here,” I said.
His eyes widened and he shook his head quickly, unsetting the bird yet again. “That’s not possible,” he protested with agitation. “You can’t. She chose you.” His hands fluttered in front of him. “If you leave her, she’ll waste away to nothing. She’ll die.”
I stared at the little dragon in shock. She slept curled around my wrist, as still as stone except for the nearly inaudible breathing my sensitive ears could hear. She appeared oblivious to the world and content to sleep the hours away.
“What if…what if I do something wrong?” I asked.
“What could you do wrong?” he replied, confused.
I looked at the floor, the wall, and then the ceiling, anywhere but at him. “What if, well, what if I phase. What if I hurt her?”
He put a hand on my shoulder, making me look at him.
“The dragon chose you for you. You will find a way to make it work. Trust me.” His light blue gaze was pleading when he concluded, “She needs you.”
The thought of letting the dragon continue to sleep seemed small in the face of what the professor implied would happen to her if I left her in his care. I swallowed and nodded. “Alright. I’ll take care of her.”
He smiled in relief. “I know you will. Sylph dragons never choose wrong.”
I walked out of the door careful to keep my left hand safely protected against my chest in case somebody bumped me. Everyone else was busy filing out of the class. A few congratulated me again on the dragon; it seemed like a bizarre thing to say thank you for, but I was glad that they had forgotten my werewolf heritage for the moment.
“That’s so awesome she chose you!” Alden said, reaching my side.
“I just hope I can do what she needs,” I replied. “I’m not really sure what that means.”
“You’ll figure it out,” he said with more confidence in me than I had in myself.
“Let me know if you need help catching flies for her,” Fren said. She walked beside us down the hall.
“I can catch spiders,” a boy with slimy-looking skin offered.
“We want to feed her, not poison her,” Fren replied.
“Actually, her stomach contains a type of bile that neutralizes any poison from the insects she’ll eat,” a girl with blue feathers in her hair said. I recognized her from my Human Interaction’s class. If my memory was right, her name was Espy.
“Really?” Alden said. “That’s neat. I wish I could do that.”
“So you could eat spiders?” the boy persisted.
Fren rolled her eyes. “Go to class, Martus.”
He grinned, showing flat gums instead of teeth. “Good idea. If I see a spider, I’ll let you know.”
We watched him and Alden head down the hall.
“He’s really interested in spiders,” I said.
Fren laughed and shook her head. “Martus is a taniwha entomophage. His family eats only bugs and lives in the water. He has to wear some sort of special lotion to keep his skin from drying out.” She gave a shudder. “His lunch tray is full of bugs; it’s disgusting; trust me.”
“Sounds like the dragon would like it,” I replied.
She tipped her head to one side. “That’s not a bad idea. It would save us running around the forest trying to catch bugs.”
I grinned at the idea. “Now that sounds like fun.”
She laughed. “Yes, it does.” She gave me a sideways look. “You’re different than I thought a werewolf would be.”
I don’t know why the statement bothered me. I glanced at her as we made our way up the hall. “What did you expect?”
She gave a small, teasing smile and said, “I don’t know. Maybe that you would howl at lot and pee on things.”
That struck my funny bone. I couldn’t help laughing when I replied, “Sorry to disappoint you.”
She laughed in reply and said, “You’re a vast improvement; trust me.”
I paused at the stairs. “Glad to hear it. I’ve got to head up to catch my next class.”
“What do you have?” she asked.
“History of Witches and Warlocks,” I replied.
She made a sympathetic sound and said, “With Professor Briggs. He scares me.”
I remembered how I felt about him my first day and nodded. “He does give a pretty intimidating first impression, but he’s not that bad.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “I still get nervous to go to his class. It’s creepy in there. I mean, what’s wrong with electricity?”
“I know,” I replied with a chuckle. “Maybe I’ll suggest that to him.”
“Really?” she asked, her eyes wide.
I shook my head. “No way.”
She laughed and continued down the hall. “Have fun, Finn the werewolf.”
That made me smile as I jogged up the stairs.
Chapter Fifteen
The tiny dragon was still sleeping when I slid into my seat in the candlelit room. A glance at the board showed it full of notes to copy down. I nudged Aerlis who was already busy writing in his notebook.
“Can I borrow a pencil?” I whispered.
He turned to me, his orange eyes incredulous. “Really?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve got one. I just wanted to see what you’d say.”
He grinned. “That’s hilarious.”
I smiled and copied down the words without really reading them. Professor Brigg’s limping steps caught my ear. Intent on finishing what I needed to write, I didn’t look up when he walked by. A folded piece of paper landed on my desk as he continued past without missing a step. I unfolded it, careful not to awaken the sleeping dragon. Professor Brigg’s swirled penmanship said, “Meeting early tonight right after school. Bring the team. We need to talk.- Briggs”
By the time I walked into Creature Languages, the dragon was beginning to stir. It gave little squeaks in its sleep, its claws scratching lightly at my skin. I hoped I could make it through third period before the dragon needed to eat.
Word of the creature was definitely traveling. I noticed classmates nudging each other and whispering.
Someone tapped my shoulder. I glanced back to see Adalia smiling at me, her cat eyes glowing. “Can we see her?”
“Where did you hear about it?” I asked, worried about how many students looked just as eager as she was to see a dragon. How was I supposed to keep the creature a secret with word traveling so quickly?”
“We have Professor Seedly for second period,” Melzie, her friend, replied.
I stared at her. “He told you? He said I was supposed to keep it a secret.”
Adalia grinned, showing sharp eyeteeth. “He’s horrible at keeping secrets. By the end of the day, everyone’s going to know.”
I figured if the professor was telling students, there was no reason to pretend I didn’t know what they were talking about. I turned to face her fully and held out my left hand.
“Aw!” Adalia said.
“She’s so cute!” Melzie squeaked.
“Man, that’s so cool,” the boy behind her said.
Students crowded around to look at the dragon.
“Does she eat a lot?” someone asked.
“What if she burned down the school?” another mused.
“Haunted High burned down by a dragon. That would be a great headline,” another said.
Professor Mellon’s voice broke through the chatter. “Alright, students. Go to your seats.”
Everyone sat quickly back down. By the furtive looks the students gave each other and me, it felt like we were all in on a secret. I turned back around with a grin and hid my hand under the desk.
I looked up to find Professor Mellon standing in front of my desk. My eyes focused on the creature she held. I blinked, but it wasn’t my eyes. The professor actually carried a two-headed black cat. Her hand ran down its back as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Uh, hello,” I said, at a loss for words.
“Good morning, Mr. Briscoe,” she replied with a beaming smile. “I thought that with your success with the fox, you could help me with my cat.”
I shook my head. “It has two heads. There’s nothing I can do to help that.”
The students around us laughed.
She gave a light laugh also. “There is nothing wrong with this cat, Mr. Briscoe. I don’t want you to fix how he looks. I want you to communicate with him. He’s been very anxious of late, meowing all the time and refusing to eat. I would like you to try to figure out the problem.”
The thought that the cat, or was it cats, would probably view the tiny dragon with the same hungry intentions as a mouse made me keep my left hand beneath the desk.