Alexis had been droning on for a solid ten minutes now, about his family’s loyalty to Satan, and their dedication to the occult and the satanic arts.

Scaly chin rested on clawed hands, lizard eyes drooped half-closed, while Rave’s stomach loudly digested his breakfast of buttered crumpets.

Rap leaned on him, affectionately, patiently waiting for the human wind-bag to wind his neck in.

Anar sat at the end of the desk, his arms folded, waiting for his turn to give a presentation. He’d hoped Alexis would be last, as he had so much to say about his item; a family heirloom, a gift from the Dark Lord himself, a brooch made of charred bone, shaped like a skull. It reeked of evil. Used as the clasp of Aleister’s ceremonial robes, it had travelled with its owner into the Underworld, returning via the class ritual to his great-grandson who was proudly showing it off to his peers. There was a hope that the teacher would forget about Anar altogether, and save him the ordeal.

“And you’re planning on offering this heirloom back to our Dark Lord, are you not, Alexis?”

Mean little eyes darted to glare at Anar as he spoke, “yes, indeed, it’s a priceless treasure full of malevolent energy. I’ll be in favour with the whole Inner Circle for this. A royal gift fit for a fallen angel, no-one else can offer anything half as magnificent.”

Anar locked onto the bragging git, looking right at him, face impassive. He yawned.

The raptors followed suit.

Crowley’s mouth quivered with hatred.

“Admirable,” the lioness gestured for him to sit. “Warlock!”

Anar shoved his chair back with a scrape and stood, hunched, his collar up as usual in an attempt to hide his nerves. Back at high school he loved being the centre of attention. Now, not so much. His wings curled round himself and his tail sagged. He reached out for the small object on the table. It crackled beneath his fingers and a little tingle made his fingertip quiver.

He had dragon in his blood. What would his ancestor think, to see him shrinking away, hiding from everyone?

He held it up, proudly, straightening his back, lifting his head. “This,” he said, “is a dragon scale.”

Rap dropped his head on the tabletop with a groan.

“Idiot!” Rave huffed.

“Now I know what you’re all thinking,” Anar added quickly as scoffs were heard in the room and Alexis looked ready to let loose a barrage of insults. “There’s no such thing as dragon’s, well my ancestor five hundred years ago was a General in charge of a big army and he would have travelled all around the world and seen a Komodo dragon and not known any better, because they didn’t have school back in the olden days. In fact,” he continued, watching Rap’s head come back up, interested, “there’s lots of creatures that have been mistaken as dragons throughout history. The basilisk was believed to be a dragon, and preserved remains of the giant moa bird were thought to belong to a dragon. So this is from a dragon and it’s a part of my family history because my ancestor had it.”

Miss Hinkling’s violet eyes blinked. “Very interesting, Warlock, thank you.”

He sat down. Nobody had any questions. Nobody was about to challenge him. He sighed with relief.

“What’s a Komodo dragon?” Rave asked. “Does it know kung-fu?”

“It’s a massive lizard on an island far away. They’re really dangerous, they eat people.”

“COOL,” Rap and Rave breathed in unison.

“But it’s not really?” Rap asked, nosing at the pale scale.

“I had to say something. Had to write something. All that research I did paid off. It seemed a bit disrespectful to just make up any old thing, when I knew the truth about what it really was, about what it really means.”

There was a loud knock at the door, and one of the security jackals coughed as he entered.

“Can I help you?” Miss Hinkling asked, unhappy at being disturbed mid-class.

“I’m looking for Anarchy Warlock?” he asked, whiskers twitching.

Anar shrunk in his seat. Oh no. What was he in trouble for, now? It could be a number of things.

The lioness nodded in his direction.

The jackal brightened, “oh, it’s you! Thought the name was familiar. Madam Shay wants to speak to you, down in the archives. If you would follow me?”

The dinosaurs both gave Anar a hard look. “The History keeper!” they hissed. “We’re coming with you. In case she gets stabby again.”

Anar grabbed his bag, stuffed his scale in his robe pocket and followed the guard. He hadn’t told his friends about stealing the knife. Nobody knew he had it except himself. This was going to be a right mess!

Alexis was slapping the table with glee at his rival being in trouble yet again, “be seeing you, demon donkey! On the streets!! I’LL THROW YOU SOME CHANGE.”

His pixie chittered, happily.

Anar paled. His ears flattened, “is it that serious?” he asked.

The jackal’s booted feet thumped down the corridor and steps. “I can’t say anything at this time.”

Rave rumbled, “maybe she’s in trouble for stabbing you?”

“Shhh! Shut up!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have given her those flowers?”

“Rave, I swear I’m gonna throttle you!”

What if he was made to hand the blade back? What would he offer up, then? He’d already had one letter sent home for thumping Crowley in front of staff, imagine if his father got a second letter about thieving ancient artefacts? Demons were meant to break rules, sure, but not get caught! That was shameful.

The archives were a mess. The contents of the cases were jumbled, placecards and item number IDs were scattered, drawers were open in cabinets; someone had been looking for something desperately, not caring if important treasures were jumbled in the process.

Anar’s chest hurt. He felt unwell. The urge to confess his deed and make everything alright again was overwhelming.

“This place is a tip!” Rap complained. “It was tidy when we left it, honest!”

“Yeah,” Rave agreed, “it wasn’t us for a change.”

The jackal knocked on the little wooden door that led to the windowless cubbyhole.

“The student you asked for, madam Shay!”

“Come in,” the lizardess’s voice didn’t sound too angry. Yet.

Anar pushed it open with a creak. A jade-scaled hand shot out and grabbed the front of his robes, yanking him inside.

His eyes widened. His bag clanked as it hit a tall set of drawers. He stumbled inside, unsure what his fate would be. ‘The History keeper’ – Madam Shay as she was called – pushed her scaly snout towards his and he wondered if this had all been a ruse for more illicit kisses.

“It’s a conspiracy!” she hissed, her eyes darting left and right.

Rave was the only other person in the room, and he was immediately interested in rifling through the unusual oddities to see what might be worth something.

Where had Rap gone? Anar couldn’t see much more of the room at the moment as he had a crazy lady all up in his business.

“A conspiracy?” he asked with a wobble.

“It’s gone! The dragon-finder! Stolen, right after I used it on you, too. Someone somewhere knows we know too much! Did you tell anyone about your… power?’

“No!” Anar blurted, “well, my familiars. But they don’t know what day of the week it is, never mind what’s been going on.”

Madam Shay watched Rave stick his tongue in a canoptic jar. “Yes, I can believe that.”

“Is this sherbert?” he asked, smacking his lips.

“Yeah mate, from about three thousand years ago.”

“Thought so. Definitely past its best-before date. Yech!”

“I told you that I had my theories about why dragons have been kept secret all this time. And now look! Evidence stolen from under my nose.”

Anar’s mind raced. The iguana lady believed some shady third party had taken the knife to stop her telling the world about the existence of dragons. It was X-Files all over again!

“Oh heck, so, they’re onto us?” he hissed back, playing along.

Her head nodded, “yes! The dragons are here, there could be one in this very institution as we speak! Trust no-one. Record any suspicious activity. Have you had any bouts of memory loss recently? Dream premonitions? Visions? Strange feelings of being watched? Spied upon?”

“I… have, actually.”

“Me, too! Oh, you might be in danger, my lovely…” her look of fear had turned to one of affectionate concern as her hand stroked his grey cheek.

He gulped.

“You’re so naughty,” she murmured.

“I haven’t done anything!” he squeaked.

She pressed her lips against his and kissed him.

Rave opened the door and shouted into the museum; “he’s snogging the History keeper again!”

“Is there anyone that aardvark won’t kiss?!”

She pulled back, smiling, “hmmm, now you have. I should show you some of my other dragon-related treasures sometime. In my room. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Anar’s mouth moved but no comprehensible noise came out. He looked at Rave and gave him a pleading look.

Rap opened the door, coming to his rescue as always. “I’ve helped tidy up the mess outside, now what’s going on? Anar’s got work to do. Is he in trouble or what?”

Stepping back and acting innocent, Madam Shay waved her hand dismissively, “everything is fine. Keep an extra watchful eye over him, especially as it’s Hallowe’en tomorrow! A dragon could be wandering around clear as day and you’d assume it was a classmate in disguise! Poor Anar could be in danger. You’ll have to protect him at all costs.”

Rap gave him an ‘oh yeah?’ look. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure Poor Anar is safe from dragons.”

“They’ll go to any lengths to keep their existence a secret!” she insisted, “I still have the photograph, I’ve sent a copy of it along with my thesis to the Sorcerer Journal. My life’s work! If I disappear… you’ll know what’s happened to me,” she frowned.

“You got fired for snogging a student?” Rave asked.

“Oh please, you don’t know half of what goes on in this place,” the curator scoffed.

Anar felt faint, “you… you wrote about me in your paper?”

“Oh, sweetie, of course I didn’t name you! It may not even be published, but I will never stop in my efforts at exposing the truth! One day the world will see how dragons have been controlling everything. They’re behind the New World Order! The Illuminati!”

Rap was nodding along, “the lizard people are behind everything.”

Rave’s forehead creased again, “we ARE lizard people!”

“No no, the lizard people who run the world are from outer space. That’s why they keep that crashed spacecraft in Area 51.”

“Ohhh, is that what its all about? I thought it was aliens. Huh. You’d think a dragon could fly a spaceship without crashing it.”

“That’s what they want you to think!” Shay cried, triumphantly. “They want you to think it was aliens, but it was dragons. They built the pyramids and were worshipped by the Incas! The feathered serpent? A dragon! The ancient hieroglyphics showing anthro animals? The dragons created us to serve them! Cinder Claws herself is a dragon!”

“Well, yeah, but Cinder Claws isn’t real. Like Santa isn’t real.”

“Isn’t she? We’ve woven dragons into everything, convincing the world its fiction, but they’re real! Your friend proved it!” she pointed at Anar.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Did you really stab him?” Rave asked her, jealously.

“It was a tiny prick,” she sighed. “Are you ok, dear? That’s a nasty cough you’ve got there.”

Rave bent double, wheezing, wiping his eyes, “I’m ok,” he rasped. “Dust.”

“Just you watch; strange things will happen to you. I can guarantee it.”

Rap tapped his mammalian pal’s arm, “you DO say that! Don’t you?”

“I say lots of things,” he edged towards the door. “We can’t stay here too long, yeah, got stuff to do.”

“Please stay safe,” Shay begged. “There are so many unfortunate things that can happen here of all places…”

“Dragons are out to get you?!”

Anar hurried along the corridors, “no, they’re not! She’s just a crazy lady. Hot. But crazy. She thinks a dragon stole the funny knife she used on me.”

“Oh. But they didn’t?”

“No, Rap, they didn’t. I stole it! I’m going to offer it up as my gift tomorrow at the Hallowe’en ceremony.”

Rap thought about this. “So, in a funny sort of way, she was actually right.”

“I’m not a dragon!”

“You’re part dragon. If it’s in your blood. Like… one eighths or something.”

“You do look a bit like a dragon,” Rave mused as Anar entered the classroom to hand in his sheet of homework.

Miss Hinkling peered over her marking, “you’re back? Crowley was convinced you were being kicked out. He will be disappointed.” She was smiling. She took his work and scanned it. “It’s a lovely story you’re weaving here,” she said, crisply. “But is it the truth?”

“Hell no, miss, what kind of student demon would do that?”

“Very good, Warlock. I wasn’t sure about you at first, but I see potential. You’ll find Alexis out at the pumpkin patch if you wish to antagonise him further.”

Rap was surprised. “The pumpkin patch?”

“Just because he’s too good for the rest of us, doesn’t mean he can avoid his student duties. Everyone mucks in with the preparations for our sacred day. You included. Have fun. Try not to get caught doing anything you shouldn’t,” she winked.

“Preparations?” Rave asked, following Anar back down the stairs and out towards the gardens.

“Yeah. Getting stuff ready. Pumpkins and cobwebs and skulls and bats. Making the College look extra spooky.”

“Work?” he complained.

“Shit happens, mate.”

The gardens were quiet. Anar lit up a crafty cigarette as they ambled through the mud towards the small group loading orange vegetables onto wheelbarrows.

Crowley was stood to the side, bossing the others about. Or trying to. They weren’t paying him much attention.

He spun round, his red face a picture; “you’re still here??” he demanded.

“Yeah, the lady in the museum just wanted to get off with him,” Rave taunted.

The human spluttered, “security came for you! I know you’re lying!”

“Wish I was. I had to watch,” the big dinosaur pulled a face.

Anar leaned on a tree trunk, enjoying every moment of Crowley’s suffering. “Looking forward to carving a pumpkin tomorrow?”

Mean little eyes narrowed, “I’ll carve your face.”

“Ooooh, you’re so tough!” Rave bared his horrible teeth. “I’ll eat your pixie for breakfast and make you my main course!”

“You’re going to have to make a sacrifice, Warlock, you know that right? You’ll have to pledge your allegiance to the Dark Lord. I don’t think you’ve got it in you. Silly little demon donkey. It’s serious business tomorrow and all you have are jokes and capers. I’ve been trained for this day since I was created; feeling the warm spray of blood on my face as a living animal breathed its last at my blade. Reciting the Latin as I drank black elixir to invigorate the senses…”

“Alright, Lex, no need to make it weird.”

“You’re a disgrace!”

“You’re a creep! I know which I’d choose.”

“Watch your back tomorrow, donkey, there are fiends worse than I around.” With a huff, he returned to the wheelbarrows with an air of authority.

“Pumpkin Prince,” Rap jeered.

Anar sucked on his Marlboro thoughtfully. He wasn’t much looking forward to making a sacrifice, nor pledging any allegiance to anyone, nor drinking any suspicious drinks while speaking Latin. But he needed those marks, now more than ever.