Page 172 of Magical Mischief

The tall and domed chamber, where the stone curved like the inside of a seashell, was as magnificent as the first day I saw it. And there, tucked into the alcove at the far end, was the baby dragon.

It blinked at me as I approached, its luminescent scales glinting in the low light. It wasn’t much larger than a big dog yet, its wings still tucked tight against its back, its long tail curled protectively around the little pile of dried moss and old parchment it had collected.

I crouched slowly, giving it time.

“Hey,” I whispered.

The dragon tilted its head, then let out a puff of warm air that smelled faintly of burned cinnamon. It didn’t move toward me, but it didn’t retreat either. We had an understanding, the two of us. Not quite friendship. Not yet. But something adjacent. Something full of patience.

“I won’t stay long,” I told it. “I just needed…”

I didn’t finish the sentence. It didn’t matter.

The egg lay in the nest.

I turned toward it slowly, reverently, my heart softening as it always did when I saw it.

Large as a pumpkin, streaked in rich blue and deep silver, it pulsed faintly with a light that didn’t come from the lanterns. It breathed, in its way. The stone around it was carved in protective circles, and old symbols were etched into the floorand walls. A small shimmer surrounded the egg, like a bubble of magic maintaining its warmth.

But it wasn’t the egg that caught my attention this time.

It was the mother.

She stood just beyond the egg, half in shadow.

I hadn’t seen her there at first. She blended so fully into the darker parts of the alcove. Larger than I remembered, her body arched slightly over the space, wings folded tight, neck curved like a bow. Her eyes were open, fixed on the egg. Not moving. Justwatching.

I stepped slowly into the space, with my hands at my sides.

The baby dragon chirped once behind me, a small warning.

I stopped.

The mother dragon didn’t look at me, but I felt the shift in the room. A tightening. Not hostile. Not yet. But protective. Tense.

Then I saw it.

The shimmer around the egg hadchanged.

It wasn’t pulsing in steady waves anymore. It flickered now, uneven. Something inside had stirred, and the magic couldn’t decide how to hold it.

I moved to the edge of the carved line in the floor, careful not to cross it.

The mother dragon turned her head slowly and deliberately and fixed her gaze on me.

Everything in my body stilled.

Her eyes were the color of fall storms with gray, flecked with lightning, and they held something older than fear. Older than thought. She looked at me the way mountains might, if they could weigh your soul.

My breath caught in my throat.

“I won’t touch it,” I whispered. “I know better.”

The dragon blinked once.

Then she shifted her weight slightly, drawing closer to the egg.

Something washappening.