Dragons in a Bag: Chapters 9–13

“They lived from the late Triassic to the Cretaceous period, though technically they’re not dinosaurs,” Kavita says in a know-it-all sort of way.

I pretty much knew that already, so I move on to my next question. “Are you, like, a witch? Or a warlock?”

He taps his snout with one claw before rising up on his haunches to sniff the air.

“I smell a thief!” he says in a grave voice.

My cheeks start to burn, and suddenly, I want nothing more than to be squeezed inside the dark guardhouse, hurtling through time.

Trub shakes his head. “I doubt Ma would still be there. But I think she may be in the vicinity, so to speak. It’s possible those dragons you got in that bag pulled the transporter off course—it read their intention instead of Ma’s.”

Trub nods and says, “I expect so. Africa’s called the cradle of civilization. Know why?”

Trub sighs and looks at the bustling avenue.

On either side of the road are enormous, stately trees that look like their roots are growing into the sky instead of underground.

The strange sheen on their bark makes me want to hug the tree closest to me, but my arms would never reach around its stout trunk.

The strange sheen on their bark makes me want to hug the tree closest to me, but my arms would never reach around its stout trunk.

Trub shakes his head. “L. Roy doesn’t really stay in one place—he’s more of a nomad.”

Mama didn’t want me going to the school right around the corner from where we live. She said I’d learn more in an “integrated environment.” I wonder what it would be like to live in a world integrated with magical creatures!

Up ahead there’s a bright orange tent with open flaps billowing in the breeze.

Her own straight black hair is gathered in a single long braid, and her nimble brown fingers are weaving Ma’s white hair into tidy cornrows.

A neon-green butterfly flits around her head before landing on her ear.

He’s wearing faded jeans with a hole in one knee and a brightly colored dashiki.

“Always a pleasure, Trub,” the man replies with a dignified bow.

“L. Roy Jenkins,” the man announces before giving my hand a hearty shake.

“Strong family resemblance,” he muses, as if I were a specimen in a science lab.

Sis sucks her teeth and looks at me with disdain. “What did you expect from a mere boy?”

“Too late,” L. Roy says with a smug smile on his face. “They’re growing! This Kavita—she fed them, I presume?”

“Too late,” L. Roy says with a smug smile on his face. “They’re growing! This Kavita—she fed them, I presume?”

“Remember, Jax,” he says solemnly, “magic will find you—if you believe.”

I try to sound respectful, but Ma must hear the resentment in my voice because she says, “You understand why I did that, right?”

“But I was supposed to help you! I guess you don’t want me to be your apprentice anymore,” I say sullenly.

“The lost dragon must be returned to me,” Sis says solemnly. “The girl is no thief—she now feels bound to the creature just as it feels bound to her. But those dragons—all of them—belong here, with me. They do not belong in your world.”

I don’t see how a flimsy butterfly is going to help us transport a fast-growing dragon, but Ma and Sis must know something I don’t.

She glances up at the darkening sky and shakes her head. “It’s too late for a messy extraction—and it will be messy. We better think on it tonight and come up with a plan.”

I feel a pang of guilt as I think about what Mama’s day must have been like.