Victor

By E. A. West

The tiny collar weighed heavy in my hand. I’d always known Victor was special, the kind of kitten who had magic hidden deep inside. Despite his belief that he could fly, he had taken one too many risks. How he’d gotten on top the refrigerator remained a mystery, but his loss left a hole in my heart so large I wasn’t sure it would ever heal.

I set the collar on the nightstand and adjusted the silver bell. How I missed hearing those tinny jingles as Victor raced through the apartment.

Wiping away another round of tears, I turned off the lamp. My whisper drifted into the darkness, “Good night wherever you are, my sweet friend.”

That night, my dreams were filled with memories of the short time I’d had Victor in my life. His soft purr making him vibrate beneath my hand. His love of sliding the throw rug across the hardwood floor in the living room. His demanding mews filling the air when I didn’t give him what he wanted soon enough.

And through it all, the jingling bell on his collar filled the air. Then the ringing started fading into the background, becoming barely noticeable…

… until it stopped.

My eyes popped open. Dawn peeked through a crack in the curtains, illuminating my bedroom with the faintest light. No kitten lay on the pillow beside me. The only sound in the room was that of my own breath.

“He’s really gone,” I whispered, my heart breaking all over again.

I turned my head toward his tiny collar on the nightstand and blinked. There, in the center of that thin strip of blue nylon, sat a light-colored egg.

“What on earth?” I switched on the lamp, rubbed my eyes, and looked again. The baseball-sized egg was still there, gleaming in the faint light. It appeared to be the same shape as the bell on the collar. The bell that was no longer there.

The collar hadn’t moved overnight, but the tiny silver bell had, in fact, vanished, and a pale gray egg had appeared. When I picked it up, warmth radiated from it. The sudden burst of grief surprised me until I realized the egg was the same temperature and weight Victor had been…

The egg rocked in my palm.

I set it back in the circle of the collar and watched with bated breath as it continued to move. A tiny crack appeared in the smooth shell. More fissures spiderwebbed out from it. Then the first chip of eggshell fell onto the nightstand with the softest of taps.

“What are you, little one?” I leaned closer, hoping to catch a glimpse inside.

A longer crack formed and traveled around the side of the shell. I resisted the urge to help. As much as I wanted to see the creature, I didn’t want to risk doing anything that might harm it.

After what felt like an eternity, the top half of the egg separated from the bottom. It rose slowly, pushed up from the inside. A scaly, black nose appeared. The little nostrils flared as if the creature was sniffing the air.

A squeaky sneeze threw the animal backward. The top of the shell dislodged from its head and fell to the nightstand. The creature scrambled out of the bottom of the shell and sat on the wooden surface of the nightstand.

A scaly black head with luminous golden eyes topped a long, slender neck. The body was thin but muscular, almost cat-like. A set of leathery wings sprouted from the animal’s back.

My mind finally caught up with what my eyes were seeing, and I gasped. “A dragon?”

It turned its head and stared into my eyes. My heart raced as I sensed it probing my mind. A soft mewl tumbled from its mouth—the same one Victor had made when he was feeling cuddly. And the way it crawled toward me… so familiar.

“Victor?”

The dragon stopped and cocked its head.

“Is that you?” I bit my lip, afraid to hope and more afraid not to.

A low rumble sounded in the dragon’s throat as it smiled at me. Then it continued the short trek to the edge of the nightstand, purring the whole way.

I held out my hand. The dragon crawled onto my palm and curled up with its chin resting on its tail.

“I can’t believe it.” I stroked a finger along the dragon’s smooth side and was rewarded with a contented sigh. “You are my Victor, aren’t you?”

The dragon stood and stretched out its wings. And when it stared me in the eye, I knew. The new Victor braced his paws on the edge of my palm, flapped his wings, and took flight. After a circuit around the bedroom, he returned and landed gracefully in my palm.

The proud, toothy grin on his face made me laugh.

“Yes, Victor, you can fly.” I petted him, enjoying the way his little scaled body vibrated under my touch. “I never should have doubted you, my sweet friend.”

He head-butted my fingers and flew from my hand to alight on the pillow beside mine. As he curled into a ball, my grief vanished, my joy recovered. Victor had never been a normal kitten, but as a dragon, he was perfect.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Award-winning author E. A. West is a sucker for happy endings. She’s also an animal lover, a yarn crafter, and a research junkie. Tea and chocolate fuel her imagination. She has two dogs who are her constant companions and have helped brainstorm more than one story, which could explain a lot.

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