Spying on the D.A.R.K.

Spying on the D.A.R.K.

There were human passageways and there were dragon passageways throughout the library. Madame Lobellia never hesitated to use the latter; she had the wit and cleverness needed to go undetected there. But she didn’t trust herself with being in the open tonight. For one thing, Darcy was with her, and that girl couldn’t keep from squealing whenever she saw the dark shadow of a dragon fly overhead. Secondly, guards of D.A.R.K. were in the building, watching the entrance to the Humanities Hall. You wouldn’t see them, but they would be there, camouflaged into the ornate pillars that fanned out from either side of the large wooden doors. Lobellia couldn’t risk her intern’s life by entering the hall properly. That left them with the Human passages

The Daily Drake – Library Closes Controversial Humanities Hall

The Daily Drake – Library Closes Controversial Humanities Hall

Written by Ruviana Spark       Angor Mountains, The Library for Dragons. It’s true: the library is closing down an entire section for refurbishment. Which section, you ask? The old Humanities Hall, housing the most controversial subject carried by the library: Humanity. The organization heading this closure is the Dragon Academy of Remedial Knowledge (D.A.R.K.). Many say they trust the organization’s decision, but not all. And for good reason. The project is riddled with contradictions. First, it happened with no warning. Second, the story keeps changing. When D.A.R.K.’s statement first released, it was said the closure was due to the much-needed conservation of the hall, which is well over three hundred years old. If they had stopped there, it would have made sense, but

A New War

A New War

Madam Lobellia tried to pace her office at a respectable speed. Her mother had taught her that a lady should never rush, but, then again, her mother never thought her daughter would work with dragons. Lobellia picked up speed and wrung her hands. She was outraged. This wasn’t the first time The Dragon Academy of Remedial Knowledge (D.A.R.K.) had interrupted her schedule. Oh yes, she had a schedule. She had every moment of Interference lined up like a row of targets she never missed—unless D.A.R.K. got in the way. D.A.R.K. was the only dragon organization that acted as though they suspected the existence of humans, yet didn’t want confirmation of that existence. Ever. Their purpose at the library was as vague as the reasons they

Proof of Doubt

Proof of Doubt

There had been a sound—a small sound—before the books tumbled to the floor. Something like silk sliding over marble, fast, delicate, smooth. Like a fragile spell-cast. There had been movement too. On the other side of the room, near his toy province, something had stood. Something with eyes. But could he admit that to anyone? Even himself? Could he trust his own senses? Only seconds before he had wished a human would make itself known to him, prove once and for all that humanity existed. Nothing prepares the mind for misinterpretation like wishful thinking. By the Angorians! He was a professor. He should be logical. Rational. For him, proof should rest solely on research and analysis. How had he become so enamored with the idea

When a Human Interferes with a Dragon

When a Human Interferes with a Dragon

Madame Lobellia parted a few of the twigs in Prestor’s toy province and maneuvered her way through them, careful not to snag her violet, taffeta dress. She’d wrapped her ring of keys in strips of velvet so that they wouldn’t clink and give her away. She picked her way over the spongy moss, keeping her eyes fixed on the dragon. When he flipped his tail, she froze, waiting to see if it was a precursor to him shifting his entire body around. When he didn’t move, she walked backwards a few steps and leaned against one of the cold stones Prestor had laid across his toy province to represent the Angor mountain range. The longer Lobellia watched him, the more her muscles relaxed and her

A Spell Without a Name

A Spell Without a Name

Prestor’s thick dragon lips curved into a smile. It was finished: his own toy garden laid out in the lid of a biscuit tin, just like C.S. Lewis’. It was full of moss, twigs, pebbles and red spiral (a hardy plant only found in his province). He even laid a row of speckled stones diagonally across the lid to represent the Angor Mountains in which the library lay burrowed deep in the western ridge. It was quite a surprise to the dragon when he realized he had created not a garden, but a miniature map of his entire province. But never mind all that. It was time for the test. Prestor leaned over the lid, waiting for moss and stone to do what it had done to

A Toy Garden and a Real Dragon

A Toy Garden and a Real Dragon

Prestor’s tea had gone cold. It was, of course, the fault of Mrs. Audley, a silver ridgeback with a finlike tail and a ghastly northern accent. She’d taken the liberty of invading his private study to inform him of the recent dragon raids on Evecott tower in the lower marshes of Switch (a subject he was not so very interested in as she assumed). For twenty minutes she lectured him on how dragons should respond to other dragons who acted so abominably and what Evecott tower should do to prevent further raids. All time lost, in his opinion. Evecott was so very far away, more than a hundred miles from their province. But now, thankfully, the library’s head archivist (for so Mrs. Audley was) had

How to Borrow a Book from a Dragon (Part 3)

How to Borrow a Book from a Dragon (Part 3)

– Continued from How to Borrow a Book from a Dragon (Part 2) – Stay still. Pretend you’re a word on the page. The dragon is close, but hopefully he won’t choose to wander this aisle. Although…well, never mind. I was only going to mention that if he sees a book lying open on the floor, he’ll want to  investigate. Courage, he’d have to notice it first. Well, he’s noticed. He’s definitely noticed. He’s flying right toward us. Goodness, look at the arc of his wings. I’ve worked here for over a decade and I still haven’t grown accustomed to that magnificent sight. Brace yourself. He’s going to land. Shhhh. *** “What’s this?” Grar’s voice rumbles as he lands on all fours. He’s spotted something on the floor of