A Screech and a Click

By A. J. Skelly

Time is running out.

So help me, if I can’t get this stupid locker open and retrieve my dragon’s muzzle, I can’t go to my Dragon Hatcher’s Apprenticeship class. And if I miss one more class, I’ll be kicked out of the program, and my life-long dream of becoming a full-fledged dragon hatcher will go up in smoke.

I resist the urge to glare at Simone, my hatchling dragon, as she perches innocently on my shoulder. Her humming sends vibrations down my arm. I was so proud of her sweet little purple-scaled body the first day I brought her into class. Then she opened her mouth.

And the most hellish sound known to the Seven Realms proceeded from her skinny little body.

Professor Injar’s hands clamped around his pointed ears so fast my eyes couldn’t even track the movement. Of course, I was just as shocked as everyone else. Simone had been a model hatchling up to that point, making only quiet little mewling noises no louder than a cat’s purr. But not in Apprenticeship class. Oh, no. I still haven’t figured out what it is about the room that sets her off, but every time we enter, she squawks her fool head off.

Professor Injar has since forbidden her entrance into the class unless she wears her muzzle. And since I’m not permitted to class without my dragon, I have to get this stupid locker open.

I kick the bottom of the impenetrable metal cabinet—I’m that frustrated. I yank on the lock again, to no avail.

With all the threads of magic weaving down this hallway, you’d think one of them would be helpful. But no. The old stone walls of Magik Prep Academy leach the charmed substance into the air, but it’s rarely the useful sort. Certainly not the kind I could use to break into my own locker.

Simone rubs her little horned head affectionately against my cheek.

“You know this is all your fault,” I mutter as I spin the dial once more, trying desperately to hear the clicks that will tell me the tumblers have moved inside.

It’s no use. There’s just too much noise in the hallway, and my lock is too finicky.

I should have sprung the extra ten darrits and bought a bio lock, but I’d used the cash I saved to buy the upgraded muzzle instead. The one with the enhanced silencer. Oh, the irony.

“All right, come on, come on,” I mutter under my breath. My fingers give the dial the barest brush of movement.

“Yes!” One tumbler moved. I heard it with my left ear strained against the cool metal of my locker.

Simone belches a thin trickle of smoke next to my right ear.

“Not helping, Simone.”

Green light zings down the threads of magic in the hallway, and my heartbeats kick up another notch. It’s the five-increment warning light. I have to get this lock off. Now.

I press my ear as close to the lock as I can and bite back a curse as another student laughs loudly behind me. I mash my cheek into the locker, knocking my glasses askew.  Someone trips over my backpack at my feet and thumps into me.

“Sorry, Bryon. You okay?”

It’s Liara Songstrum. One of the most gorgeous girls at the Academy. I spend half of Apprenticeship class trying not to stare at her. Could this day get any more humiliating?

“Here. Your glasses are all crooked.” She reaches out and straightens them.

My face flames, and I wish I could melt into the floor. “Fine,” I mumble, even more flustered now that Liara is watching me try to get my stupid lock undone.

“It’s stuck?”

Obviously. 

Miraculously, I feel more than hear the next tumbler click into place. Sweat breaks out on my forehead as purple light streaks down the hall. Two increments! Only one more tumbler left.

I move the dial, Liara peering over my shoulder. I move it, but it doesn’t click. I just can’t hear it! A frustrated growl builds in my chest. “It’s so loud in here!”

“Oh. I can help with that,” Liara says. With that, she plucks Simone from my shoulder, points her in the general direction of the hallway, and gives her purple tail a quick pinch.

Simone screams her devil cry. As I wince, a shocked hush falls over the hall.

I waste no time. With delicate fingers, I move the dial just a hair to the left.

Click.

Yes! My future career as a dragon hatcher has been saved.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A. J. Skelly is a writer, blogger, and lover of all things fantasy, medieval, and fairy-tale-romance.  As a former high school English teacher with a master’s in Creative Writing, she’s always been fascinated with the written word and has spent many years working with teenagers.  She lives with her husband, children, and many imaginary friends who often find their way into her stories.

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