“When will he wake up?” Mabel asked, stroking the little dragon’s back.
“Within the hour,” answered the man.
“Are you going to keep him?” Mabel asked Professor Enplencourt, her voice hopeful.
Enplencourt sputtered. “I…ah, well. I hadn’t thought…”
I’d never seen her flustered before. Mabel turned to the draconarian. “Can she, please? He could teach us so much about the life cycle of dragons.”
“Clever idea, but the little dragon has a life of research ahead of him. Well, he’ll be participating rather than conducting it.” He chuckled at his words, but no one else did. Research sounded a lot like a nice word for torture.
Enplencourt’s head snapped up from where she’d been staring at the dragon. She fixed her small dark eyes on the man. “Is a classroom full of students eager to learn about dragons not valid enoughresearchfor this handsome young creature to participate in?”
The man recoiled slightly at the venom in her words. “Well, if the school would like the dragon for study, I’d be happy to leavehim with you,” said the draconarian with a firm nod. “He was bred for study, as it were.”
Enplencourt’s sour expression faded into a beguiling smile. “If it really isn’t too much to ask?”
“Not at all.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Back when I was a student here, the headmaster kept a pair of young dragons. They were always scampering down the halls and getting into trouble. Left a rat in the girls’ dormitory once.” He chuckled at old memories.
“Well, now.” Enplencourt stared down warily at the little beast. “We can’t have that. You’ll be better trained than that, of course,” she said to the dragon, tucking him against her like a child.
The draconarian looked relieved to finally be packed up. “If that will be all. Good day to you.” The man took his things and walked out, leaving us with a sleeping baby dragon.
When the man’s footsteps had vanished down the hall, a girl from Sapphire moved forward to look at the little dragon. “Thanks, Professor. You saved him.”
Enplencourt nodded firmly. Then she turned toward the blackboard, a dragon asleep on one arm, and picked up her chalk. “All right, class. Here is your homework.”
That afternoon,I penned a letter to Merlon, telling him in as vague a language as possible, in case the words were intercepted, that I was afraid our secret was out. I had no way of knowing if Covington would keep his word, and I felt the need to call in the cavalry just in case. Not that Merlon would be capable of saving Myth, should word get out that he was wild, but I knew Icertainly couldn’t, and I needed to feel like I was doing all I could to keep my dragon safe.
Autumn was making a bold entrance, with cooler temperatures than normal for this early in the season. When I walked to the lair that night, well after Vanya had gone to sleep, I shivered under my uniform’s blazer.
Covington was waiting for me, leaning up against the wall on the far side of the rotunda. He watched me from across the wide dark space, the only light the moonlight from the oculus.
He peeled away from the wall, grabbed his unlit lamp, but said nothing.
“Hello to you too,” I said.
He snorted, leading the way to Myth’s den. He heaved open the door and slipped inside, then closed it again after me.
He set down the lamp, lit it with a match, and replaced the chimney over the flame. Then he withdrew a small glass jar from his pocket, his face eerily lit from below like this was some bizarre seance.
“What’s the glass for?” I asked again, moving to greet Myth, who’d hopped off the hammock when we entered.
Covington unscrewed the lid and eyed me narrowly. “Just tell him to burn it.”
One hand on Myth’s side, I turned to him. “No.”
“Don’t be difficult. Remember that I hold his life in my hands.”
“Ever the gentleman.”
He licked his lips, which appeared dry and chapped now that I looked. “Just get on with it, Miro.”
“Tell me what you’re up to, and I will.”
Myth snorted, signaling his approval, and I smirked.
Eyes on Myth, Covington sighed. “I’m not giving you anything. I’m letting you be here. That’s all.”
