Dragon Overnight

by Sarah Mlynowski

  “So lucky.”

  “Which do you like better, flaring or fluxing?” asked Nory.

  “Neither, because I’m not choosing between them,” Mitali said sharply.

  Nory’s cheeks grew hot. Had she said something wrong?

  “Sorry,” Mitali said. “It’s just, your dad told me I have to choose one type of magic and stick to it if I can’t keep them separate. You know, my kitten isn’t supposed to breathe fire. My robin isn’t supposed to make the temperature around me heat up.”

  “Is that why it was so warm when we were flying?”

  “Yeah, I was flaring. But not on purpose!” Mitali shook her head. “I don’t think your dad knows how hard it is to unmix them. It’s not as if I haven’t tried!”

  “Father’s pretty old school,” Nory said. “I wasn’t admitted to Sage Academy because my magic isn’t one of the five Fs. At least, not the way the five Fs are supposed to be.”

  “I know,” said Mitali. “I mean, your dad doesn’t talk about it, but kids do. In the halls and stuff.”

  It stung to hear it, but Nory knew she shouldn’t be surprised. Of course people talked about the headmaster’s wonky daughter. How could they not?

  “When my magic first came in, I tried so hard not to be … well, the way I am,” Nory told Mitali. “But I am who I am, so now I focus on making the most of it. I mean, I can learn to control my magic better, and I can get better at the kind of magic I have, but it’s never going to be typical.” Nory thought for a moment. “I’m sorry my father can’t accept you just as you are.” She blinked hard. “I can tell he really likes you, though.”

  Mitali smiled awkwardly. “I know he’s proud to have a double-talent student at Sage, but he wants me to be a proper double talent. He doesn’t want me to flare while I’m fluxing, or flux while I’m flaring.” She sat forward and drew her knees to her chest, locking her arms around her shins. “I feel trapped sometimes. Like … this’ll sound weird … but like I’m a slippery, oozy blob, and he and the other teachers are trying to squish me into a too-small container.”

  Nory laughed. It did sound weird. But she got it, because a while ago she and Elliott had read a book called The Box of Normal. It was all about taking “wrong” magic and pretending to hide it away inside a box. Nory had even tried the book’s strategies, and it was just like Mitali said: trying to wrangle a large blob into a small jar.

  The more time Nory spent at Dunwiddle—especially with Ms. Starr for her teacher—the more convinced she grew that “normal” was a dumb idea in the first place.

  “You know what might make you feel better?” Nory said.

  “What?” Mitali said.

  “To do whatever you feel like doing without worrying about getting in trouble. I’m the only one who’ll see, and you know I won’t judge you for it. I’ll even do it with you! Seriously, Mitali, let’s just wonk out. Let’s go for it!”

  Mitali seemed unsure, but Nory knew she was right about this. She got on all fours, arched her spine, and whoosh! She was Kitten-Nory! She puffed out her kitten ribs, curled her kitten claws, and thought dragon-y thoughts. Double whoosh! She was Dritten-Nory!

  She pranced happily. She flapped her dritten wings, making Mitali’s hair whip about.

  Mitali laughed. Still, uncertainty lingered in her eyes.

  Dritten-Nory pounced and roared, a tiny flame shooting from her mouth.

  Mitali bit her thumbnail, and then her body shimmered and shrank. She was Robin-Mitali again!

  Dritten-Nory was delighted. A playmate! She made sure Robin-Mitali was watching, then flew toward the river. Dritten-Nory had an idea, but it involved being near water.

  She picked up an autumn leaf with her teeth and tossed it in the air. Then she blew fire on it. Sparks glowed orange before what was left of the leaf hit the water. Dritten-Nory grabbed more leaves and tossed them at her friend.

  Robin-Mitali hovered for a moment, and then she opened her beak and breathed out fire! The leaves burst into flame—glorious and shining. The sparks fell into the water, and the sizzling sound made Dritten-Nory’s fur feel electric.

  Robin-Mitali squawked. Dritten-Nory meowed. Robin-Mitali blew a fire bubble. Dritten-Nory popped it, and Robin-Mitali promptly blew more, a whole stream of beautiful, magical fire bubbles!

  Robin-Mitali and Dritten-Nory circled and chased each other in the air.

  They played until the bell rang for afternoon activities.

  They had fun.

  Back in the Great Hall, Mo told the campers they had three options for their afternoon activity. Andres was sitting between Tip and Phoebe, but he could feel Nory staring at him. Elliott, too.

  Okay, he hadn’t sat with them at lunch.

  And he hadn’t hung out with them at free time.

  But seriously, did Andres have to hang out with the UDM kids every minute of every day? Was that part of the UDM rule book?

  No. There was no UDM rule book.

  “… blahbitty blahbitty blah something about interactive online tutorials in the library,” Mo was saying. “We designed this track for those of you who have expressed interest in the more academic aspects of dragonology. Not everyone wants to do fieldwork, and that’s okay.”

  “Blech,” Tip whispered, pulling a face. “We want to do fieldwork, right, Andres? We want to be out in the open!”

  “Right,” Andres said.

  “Libraries are like cages,” Phoebe said. “We’re too wild to be caged.”

  “Heck yeah!” Andres said, his blood warm in his veins.

  “Shhh,” one of the Sage girls said, giving them a withering look.

  “We can’t,” Andres whispered. “We’re too wild to be shushed.”

  Phoebe, Lark, Tip, and Tomás cracked up. Low fives were passed from hand to hand.

  Mo moved on to the second option for the afternoon activity. It sounded far more fun than the library tutorials, even if it wasn’t technically fieldwork. It involved visiting the dragon nursery, where clutches of dragon eggs were carefully monitored night and day.

  “There are eggs in one clutch that could hatch at any moment,” Mo said. “To witness the birth of a whelp is a once-in-a-lifetime experience—unless you’re a dragonologist, that is.”

  Excited murmurs flew about the room. One look at Nory and the other UDM kids told Andres they’d be choosing that activity.

  Mo laughed and held up a finger. “Hear me out before you choose. The third option is tracking and monitoring river dragons. This particular activity is geared to the Flyers among you.”

  “Say no more!” Tip cried, jumping to his feet. He looked at Andres, Tomás, Lark, and Phoebe, who scrambled up beside him. “Flyers reporting for duty!”

  Some kids laughed. Others groaned. Mo tried to look stern, but even she couldn’t resist Tip’s eager charm.

  Mo waved the five Flyers toward a man wearing green army pants. He had a handlebar mustache and forearms the size of hams.

  “Andres!” Nory called. “Don’t you want to see a dragon hatch?”

  The man with the mustache pushed open the door of the Great Hall and strode into the sunshine. Andres followed.

  The mustache man introduced himself as Blade. He drove the group of Flyers across Dragon Haven in a jeep. Veins popped out over his biceps whenever he turned the wheel. When they reached the river, he braked hard and hopped to the ground.

  He passed out helmets. He showed them a speedometer and another measurement tool called a variometer. Then he asked, “Which one of you is the fastest?”

  All four Sage Flyers pointed at Andres. Andres swelled with pride.

  “Right, then.” Blade tossed him the speedometer. “You take this. And remind me, you’re the one who’s upside down, correct?” He asked the question calmly, as if he was simply gathering basic information.

  Andres nodded.

  “In that case, hand me your leash and take off the backpack,” said Blade, matter-of-fact. Andres gave him the leash, which Blade clipped to his b
elt. Andres floated into the air. It felt good to have the pack off.

  Blade jerked his chin at Phoebe. “You’re clocking the dragons.”

  He sized up Tip, Lark, and Tomás. “You three will fly behind us. What’s your skill level? Two feet? Three feet in the air?”

  “Three feet,” said Tip.

  “All of you? This isn’t the time to stretch the truth. Some fifth graders don’t get three feet up till the end of the school year. No shame in it. I just need to know so that I can keep an eye on you.”

  “We all go three feet,” said Lark, lifting her chin. “We attend Sage Academy. The standards are very high.”

  Blade grunted. “Some of these dragons can jump two feet out of the water, see. And they’re fast. When they find the current, they really get going. I don’t expect you to keep up with them once they reach their maximum velocity. Shoot, I don’t expect you to keep up with them at half their maximum velocity. But do your best.”

  “We will,” Lark said, as if that was obvious. “But why does it matter how high the dragons can jump out of the water?”

  Blade leveled her with his gaze. “Would you like to be hit dead-on by a dragon going fifty miles an hour?”

  Lark opened her mouth, but no words came out.

  “Exactly,” Blade said. “These aren’t cute little cantaloupe-eaters, people. Don’t forget it for a minute.”

  Andres swallowed. The cute little cantaloupe-eaters were neither cute nor little, not if Blade was referring to the Tangerines they’d fed from the bridge. They were huge and hungry. He could only imagine how large and ravenous the river dragons must be.

  Blade nodded curtly. “Those of you with devices, keep track of your measurements. If you don’t have a device, your job is to observe, observe, observe. I want to know if any of the dragons look hurt, if any are having trouble swimming, that kind of thing. And remember, safety first. Levitation at all times. Three feet up. Got it?”

  “Yessir!” the kids responded.

  All six Flyers cruised along the river. Andres kept up easily with Blade, who was a very strong Flyer. Andres realized he had never before had his leash attached to another Flyer. Back at Dunwiddle, even his tutor stayed on the ground during their sessions.

  Flying with such leeway felt wonderful.

  “There!” Tomás said, spotting the first river dragon. Its large blue head peeked above the surface of the water. It blew a snort of mist out its nose.

  “Let’s clock it,” Andres said, getting as close to the dragon as he dared. He pointed the speedometer.

  “Two point five clicks,” Phoebe called, checking the variometer.

  The river dragon dove underwater and came up with a catfish the size of a cow caught in its powerful jaws. Andres and the others watched, mesmerized.

  “There! Another one!” Tomás cried.

  Together, Andres and Blade flew above the second dragon. She was a beauty, with sleek gray stripes highlighting the vivid yellow of her body. Faster and faster she went, and Blade and Andres matched her pace. Andres held the speedometer directly over her for five straight seconds.

  “Forty miles per hour!” he called.

  Man, it feels good to zoom like this! Andres thought. The wind whipped his skin and made him squint. Blade wasn’t pulling him. He didn’t need to. Blade was just keeping him from going up in addition to going forward.

  “Andres! Blade! Slow down!” Tip yelled.

  “Tomás is going low!” called Lark. “He can’t stay three feet up and go so fast at the same time!”

  “Shut up, Lark!” yelled Tomás. “I can so!”

  “I’m tired, too,” said Phoebe. “Can’t stay up much longer.”

  Andres didn’t want to stop. His mind, his body—flying!

  But Tomás. And Phoebe.

  And Lark and Tip.

  Andres remembered being dragged along behind the bus when the UDM kids first started off to Dragon Haven. He didn’t want anyone to feel left behind like he had.

  He slowed down, and Blade slowed with him. They turned around and flew back with the weaker Flyers, staying a solid three feet above the water but greatly reducing their speed. Blade gripped Tomás’s elbow and didn’t let go, despite Tomás’s protests.

  As they flew, Blade pointed out some smaller river dragons who were floating on their backs like otters, glinting red in the afternoon sunlight. He also trained them to watch for the moment when a fast swimmer caught the current and surged forward like a rocket.

  “Look how they ride on the current,” Andres marveled. “It’s amazing.”

  Blade nodded. “It’s something we have in common with them,” he said.

  Later, as Andres shrugged into his brickpack so they could climb back into the vehicle, Blade clapped him on the shoulder. “You got some nice power there,” Blade told Andres. “You take passengers?”

  Andres shook his head. Then he remembered that he’d flown Tip up to the top of the Great Hall. “Well … once, but it happened accidentally,” he said. “I think I could learn how, though. I’d like to.”

  “I took my first passenger at age eleven,” said Blade. “But I dropped that kid in a sandbox, nearly broke half his bones. Turned out I could only hold him for a couple minutes. It took a good long while to master that skill.”

  “I can’t even master going down,” Andres admitted.

  “So I’ve heard,” said Blade. “Your teacher told me. But you’ll learn how, just like I learned not to drop my passengers. Might not be easy, but you’ve got a lot of power, kid. You just gotta keep training. Check?”

  “Yessir!” Andres said, and he saluted. He didn’t mean to. It just happened.

  Blade didn’t laugh, or even smile. He lifted his hand from the wheel and returned the salute.

  The non-flying Sage kids had all filed off to do the online tutorial. The online tutorial, when they were at an actual camp with actual dragons. So boring! Why would they choose that? Nory didn’t understand until she happened to glance at Mitali.

  Oh.

  Mitali, Anemone, and the other Non-Flyers had looked to their headmaster to tell them what to do. And Father wanted them doing academics.

  They could have learned so much more from Dr. Nubbly, though! Nory knew that from the moment they arrived at the hatchery. Dr. Nubbly was a soft, round woman with flat hair, pale skin, and pink cheeks. She wore a Dragon Haven sweatshirt and didn’t look glamorous, like Mo, or tough, like Blade. Instead, she looked whip-smart and cuddly.

  “Remember, keep your voices low and calm,” Dr. Nubbly told them as they walked into the hatchery.

  In a small glass box sat a group of three glowing purple eggs, each the size of a grapefruit. Nory put her hand up to the glass. It was warm to the touch.

  “These eggs,” Dr. Nubbly continued, “are special eggs. All dragon eggs are special, of course, but Blurpers almost never hatch in captivity. These were found in a nest abandoned a thousand miles from here. They were transported in the back of a truck hauling soda pop and pretzels. Can you believe it? They’re only a couple of hours from hatching. If they survive in this human-made environment, we’ll get the chance to observe infant Blurpers.”

  “If they survive?” Nory said. “You mean they might die?”

  “Are Blurpers the ones with huge talons?” asked Willa. “I read about those, I think.”

  “Sure are,” said Dr. Nubbly. She turned to Nory. “We have high hopes that they’ll hatch. They’re fighters, and quite fierce. It’s amazing the eggs are so small, isn’t it? Now if, by chance, we’re lucky enough to see one of the dragons emerge, I’m going to need you all to step immediately away from the box.”

  “How come?” Nory asked.

  “Because whelps are like ducklings,” Dr. Nubbly said. “They imprint on the first living creature they see.”

  “Imprint?” Nory repeated. “What does that mean?”

  “It means to get attached,” Sebastian explained. “A duckling is supposed to imprint on its mom, because it
s mom is the best duck to take care of it. But sometimes a duckling imprints on, like, a farmer or whatever. Then the duckling thinks the farmer is its mother.”

  “It is not ideal, not for the duckling or the farmer,” Dr. Nubbly concluded. “Same goes for whelps. If an egg shows signs of hatching, we’ll quickly box it up and take it to the Tangerine Dragon habitat you visited earlier. The mother dragon there will hopefully take care of these Blurpers, the way she cared for her own whelps. Blurpers can fly, but they’re related to Tangerines and sometimes cohabitate. It’s the best shot we’ve got, really.”

  “I’ve read about Blurpers, too,” said Elliott. “They’re kind of scary.”

  “They can be,” Dr. Nubbly answered. “But a Blurper won’t eat you, if that’s what you’re wondering. Blurpers don’t have carnivore teeth. Their teeth are flat. Still, you don’t want to be alone with an angry one—I’ll say that.”

  The group watched the incubator for several moments.

  The eggs sat there, being eggs.

  “Moving on, then,” Dr. Nubbly said. She headed for a door on the other side of the room. “In the next wing, we have two Cuddlepuss whelps who are thriving. They have fur. Like rabbits!”

  “Are they scary?” asked Elliott.

  “You think that everything’s scary,” Sebastian pointed out.

  “I do not.”

  “You’re scared of dragons,” said Sebastian. “Admit it.”

  Nory was at the end of the line. She dragged her feet, not ready to leave the Blurper eggs. Would the Blurpers really hatch soon? She wanted one more look.

  She hesitated at the door. She could hear the others’ voices growing dimmer. She’d take one last look, she decided, and then catch up.

  She returned to the glass box.

  Crack.

  Nory’s eyes widened. Had she really heard what she thought she heard, or had she made it up?

  C-r-r-r-ACK! She heard it again, louder this time.

  One egg, the smallest one, had gone from a dark purple to a lovely bright magenta.