Smoke Signals and Strange Smells

The smell hit me first. It wasn’t a bad smell, not like rotten eggs or my brother’s gym socks. It was more… smoky. Like a tiny campfire had popped up somewhere it shouldn’t have. I was busy trying to teach Sparky how to do a proper dragon roar, which mostly involved him making a series of squeaky hiccups, when I heard Mom’s voice floating up the stairs.

“Leo? What is that smell?”

My stomach did a somersault that would have made Sparky proud. “Uh, nothing, Mom!” I yelled back, trying to sound casual, like I wasn't currently sharing my room with a creature that could, apparently, produce smoke.