Excerpt: The Dragon-Tamer

Highwing Preparatory never looks as wonderful as it does to students on their first day. On that first day, to them, the school is brand new, the cracked pediment has an old-world charm, and the small dormitory rooms are cozy. They stroll through the large oak doors into the common hall with a thin layer of bravado barely masking their nervousness.

Anabell has arrived early for the opening day festivities. Her parents trail behind her, weighed down by their offer to carry Anabell's bags for her. She is in awe at the high-ceilinged brick building. She spins in her fashionable skirt, half-joyous and half-showing-off. The few other students in the spacious room seem to be feeling the same way. Quiet chatter and stifled gasps can be heard from the groups of teenagers who are exploring after convincing their parents to sit and rest a spell.

But the Murrys refuse to stop until they have a place to set down the full luggage they drag, carry, and pull.

"Come on honey, we'll be back here later," says Mrs. Maria Murry, pushing her elbow gently in Anabell's back to get her walking. She hardly resists, as she has ben wondering for months about who she will be assigned to room with. Normally, she would have been allowed to room with a friend, but her parents deemed it best for her to grow up in the mundane world, so she knows of no one else attending Highwing.

In fact, it took Anabell the better part of a year to convince her parents to look into Highwing. As mundanes, they didn't warm too quickly to the thought of sending their "odd" daughter to a school to hone her oddness. Anabell still thinks about the first time she brought it up to them, the day that led up to this all.

"Mom... Dad... Can I talk to you?" It was a cool day, one of those autumn days people talk about fondly in spring and curse when they come around. The family was outside collecting leaves together to cover the garden with. Anabell's hand was in her jacket pocket, where she had collected red leaves to press and held a couple brochures about Highwing.

Her parents had turned to her slowly, cautiously. Anabell was, after all, a sixteen-year-old girl, and her parents had been teenagers before.

"Of course." Her father leaned heavily on his rake. "What is it?"

"Well, as you guys know, I'm going to be graduating from Pran soon, and we've... well, I've been trying to decide what school to go to after that." She toyed with one of the papers in her pocket.

"I thought we had decided on Millennial?"

"Yeah," Anabell hedged, "but there's another place I've been looking at too."

She had their interested with that. "Oh? And where's that?"

Anabell's mother elbows her again, and she realizes that she's stopped halfway through the common hall. She quickly pulls her map and papers from one of the bags slung over her father's shoulder. The folds in the paper are almost worn through. Until today, Anabell wasn't able to see the campus, so instead she read over the map until she knew the building names by heart.

"I'm in Riverblock, so we need to go..." Her fingers trail over the soft, off-white paper. "...here. West side of campus."

Seeing the look of fear at the distance on her father's face, she grabs a bag from each of her parents, flashes them a jubilant smile, and starts off.

This wasn't Galen's first year at Highwing, but he enjoyed the campus more than he enjoyed home, so he sits on a bench outside the Riverblock dorms and watches the Novice girls arrive. They are typically decked out in the newest fashions to show off during the day's festivities, and this new group is the same.

Galen, now a Master, learned long ago how to use his non-magical talents to get what he wants. Which, on the first day (and on many other days), is to make the girls blush. A small smile, a wave of the hand, opening a door for a girl with too many bags. He knows all the tricks.

Not that he needs them. Dark-haired, dark-eyed, and more suave than any star, Galen is the guy the other members of the male species envy. A confirmed bachelor, he nonetheless gets invited at least twice to every school and social function.

Swarms of girls pass by Galen on the bench. Most are accompanied by parents, but there are a few wandering alone. One, for instance, is standing in the middle of the grassy area between the rows of buildings. She looks around slowly, an extravagant trunk at her feet. Galen stands confidently; he knows his way around campus better than most of the second-years.

"Need help?" The girl jumps at the sound of his voice. She's quite pretty, he thinks. Her black hair is pulled into a high ponytail that wags almost comically when she turns to him.

"Oh, yes, please." She holds out her left hand, holding her map in her right. Galen shakes it awkwardly, laughing. "Zoey," she introduces, "and I'm looking for the dorms."

"Galen, and I'm assuming you don't mean the boy's dorms."

She laughs, a sound like the bells children wear to keep away evil fairies. "You would be correct!"

Galen takes her by the arm, carrying her trunk, and leads her towards Riverblock. Along the way, he points out important buildings and places, such as where classes are held and where students meet up before going into the city together. They pass the Kissing Tree and walk along cobblestone paths to the front of the dormitory.

Galen steps inside and shows her where to pick up her room key. "Room 416," she squeals. "The top floor!" Their muscles strain at carrying Zoey's trunk between them up the narrow stairs.

Anabell is just organizing her bags, her parents on their way back to the common hall, when she hears keys rattling in the door. It swings open and Zoey and Galen burst through the doorway. Zoey's trunk gets tossed quite unceremoniously onto the free bed.

And this is why I come here, thinks Galen. Another pretty Novice.

Anabell is the first to introduce herself.

"I'm Zoey, and this is--"

Galen interrupts, extending a strong hand to Anabell. "Galen Caldmere. Just helping Zoey with her things. Now, if you ladies don't need me, I'll be going." He gives each girl a friendly smirk. "Goodbye, Novices Anabell and Zoey."

As soon as he's out of the room, Zoey falls into a string of sighs and giggles. Fanning herself dramatically with her hand, she remarks, "Ooh la la! Did you get a piece of him?"

Anabell can't help but agree, and the girls fall into a comfortable start to their living together.

Galen strolls across campus towards Eastwoods, the boy's dormitory. There is still another hour until the opening day ceremony begins, giving him some time to himself.

Two cute Novices in just half an hour. This is going to be a good year.

There is a bustle around him the whole way across campus as more and more new students arrive. Most of the Masters and Adepts moved in a few days ago, and some are walking students to the dorms.

His dorm room, shared with no one but himself since he is no longer a Novice, is lined with bookshelves and cupboards. The room is sparsely decorated, with a grey-sheeted bed and a tea set on a small table. A desk is shoved against one wall. It may be too grand for a student, but Galen insisted on having a respectable place to study.

An ancient book lays open on the desk. Its covers are made of deep red leather and the thin pages are covered in scrawled, handwritten text. Galen turns on his desk lamp, shaped like the scaled foot of a dragon, and sets to reading.

The hour passes quickly, and soon Zoey and Anabell are joining the stream of students walking to the common hall. They meet up with their parents with hugs and feelings of maturity, then settle into their seats.

The Headmistress walks onstage exactly on time. She is a tall, thin woman with a verifiable mane of greying blonde hair. From a distance, she resembles a half-dead dandelion, just waiting for a good breeze to take all her hair away.