The Secret World of Dragons

by Sandra Harvey

  ‘Don’t tell me you still live down in the grunges,’ muttered Mystic, glancing uneasily around.

  Simon shot a nasty look back at the cat. ‘It’s called Downtown Dwenin,’ he said, correcting the cat, ‘and it isn’t grungy.’

  ‘Right,’ murmured Mystic, as he rolled his eyes. He looked cautiously up at Emma. ‘You’d best be careful down there. It isn’t a very friendly place.’

  Up front, Simon snorted and shook his head. Mystic dropped his voice so low that Emma had to bend while walking to hear him. ‘We’re looking for Wheeler’s brother, but that’s all,’ said the cat. ‘We only need Matt for this.’

  ‘And what is this Matt going to help us with?’ whispered Emma.

  ‘Why, everything of course,’ answered Mystic, which made Emma scowl at him. The cat – or whatever it was – never had an answer to the real questions, only little hints that made no sense whatsoever to Emma.

  At the very end of the old road, there seemed like there was nothing left to see, but then Emma noticed an opening in the earth. A steel ramp led underground, swallowed at some point by darkness. Emma gulped and looked at Simon with questioning eyes.

  ‘We’re going … down there?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course,’ he replied.

  ‘Down to the slums,’ muttered Mystic disapprovingly.

  Simon ignored the cat and headed down the ramp. Mystic sighed and shook his head. ‘If there’s one place I hate in this world, it’s that place,’ he said, and then followed the rider.

  Emma held back, a little relentless to follow either of the two into the gloomy world below, but she really did not want to be left up here, risking the chance that someone might capture her and steal her memories.

  ‘Wait a minute!’ she called, almost running down into the dark tunnel.

  Mystic’s violet eyes shone eerily in the dimness. ‘Come on,’ he said, turning and trotting along again.

  The ramp tunnel was not shrouded in blackness, as Emma thought it to be, but rather a navy-blue darkness that seemed to be eradiating from all corners and walls alike. Pipes hung overhead the steep ramp, some of them leaking drops of who-knows-what or puffing off wisps of steam, while others were wide enough for large dogs – or even dragons – to scurry across.

  As they reached the bottom of the ramp, they stepped off onto uneven ground. It was lighter down at the bottom, but still with that bluish shine. Everything seemed to glow with a blue light: the ground, the high ceiling, the steel walls, the houses, and every other unseen thing that lurked in the darkness.

  If Emma thought the station where she had rode Flyer had been huge, this place was ten times that size, and perhaps larger, as she could not see through the gloom that far. It seemed like Downtown Dwenin was bigger than the Dwenin above. The houses were rundown, most with windows shattered or roofs full of holes. Thick walls with hanging pipes and metal bars separated sections of houses. Holes in the walls looked large enough for dragons to easily run or fly through. The ground was rough and uneven, as though an earthquake had shaken it up.

  It looked more like a dragon playground that an actual underground city.

  ‘Welcome to Underground Dwenin,’ murmured Simon, casting his two followers an unenthusiastic look. ‘My house is a bit farther down, windows and roof included.’

  Emma glanced uneasily around as she followed Simon. ‘How many people live down here?’ she asked.

  Simon shrugged. ‘Never really figured it out,’ he replied. ‘I don’t care much about it, to be honest. It’s mostly outcasts or –’

  ‘This place was created for the people who moved in after,’ explained Mystic, cutting Simon off, who looked quite annoyed by the interruption. ‘There was no room above for them, so the mayor – at that time – decided to dig a city underneath the city.’

  ‘Yeah, but it was peaceful once,’ said Simon quickly, coming to his home’s aid, ‘back when Mirthias Wheeler used to race.’

  ‘Was that a relative of yours?’ questioned Emma.

  Simon looked quickly from Mystic, who was quiet, and then back to Emma, who still had that curious look on her face. ‘No, he was more of, uh, an ancestor,’ said Simon slowly. ‘He was one of the greatest racers of his time. No … actually, he was the greatest racer of his time. No one would ever challenge him, because they knew it would be pointless to even try. He won every race he ever placed himself in.’

  ‘Wow, that’s amazing,’ said Emma, awestruck.

  ‘Yeah, it is,’ said Simon, a smile slowly spreading across his face. ‘He was titled the best racer in all of Dragonis for many years … right up until the accident, that is.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ murmured Mystic, now lending his voice to the story. ‘I remember that day.’

  ‘Y-you do?’ stammered Simon.

  ‘Of course not, you idiot,’ snapped the cat. ‘Are you going to prattle on with useless fiction all day or are you going to lead us to your house?’

  Simon scowled. ‘You hairball, I thought you were telling the truth!’

  Mystic snorted. ‘If you must know, I do recall hearing about this so called “Best Racer of the East”,’ he said, slowing his walk. ‘Yes … it was quite a long time ago, and my memory of that time is a bit hazy, but I remember the fall of “Mirthias the Myth”. Quite a sad story … I guess.’

  ‘You guess?’ echoed Simon. He glanced towards Emma. ‘I’ll tell you what happened, considering the fuzz-ball there has no heart.’

  Mystic snarled. ‘What did you just call –’

  ‘It was the last race of the year,’ started Simon, kicking a piece of metal away from their path, ‘and everyone who was anyone showed up for the grand finale. They were all anxious to see Mirthias Wheeler in action one last time.’ He suddenly took on a storytelling voice. ‘The stands were filled, the riders were ready, the announcer was, uh, announcing,’ – Mystic snorted and shook his head – ‘the dragons were uneasy, and – bam! The race signal went off!’

  Despite the gloomy environment and the quest she was now wrapped up in, Emma managed to produce an honest smile.

  ‘The dragons all dashed – like their lives depended on it – off into the winding roads of Dragon City! They –’

  ‘Dragon City?’ interrupted Emma. ‘I thought this place was called Dwenin?’

  ‘Oh, uh, right, it is,’ mumbled Simon.

  ‘What he’s referring to,’ said Mystic, ‘is the place that used to exist before Dwenin. Long ago, half of the east of Dragonis was just a huge place called Dragon City.’

  ‘Right,’ agreed Simon, and cleared his throat. ‘Anyway … the dragons were off! Down through the winding roads of Dragon City, right to the very depths, and then back up again! Around turns and corners and buildings! The race was close, as the best of the best had come to play, but it was clear to all eyes that Mirthias Wheeler was going to take home another trophy.’

  Here the story took a turn for the worse. ‘As the dragons and their riders came close to the finish line, Wheeler was in the lead, as expected,’ said Simon. His voice began to drop. ‘But … something happened. For some reason, his dragon, Beau, fell from the sky. They came crashing down onto the racetrack, rolling and skidding until they were tangled up in a heap just a few metres from the finish …’

  ‘Mirthias lost the race,’ finished Mystic, picking up where Simon had left off. ‘Some rider from the west outdid him, claiming the prize. In fact, all of the riders outdid him. Mirthias never finished the race.’

  ‘What happened to him?’ whispered Emma.

  ‘He quit,’ replied Mystic bluntly. ‘He never raced another day in his life.’

  ‘But … why?’ wondered Emma aloud. ‘It seems silly to just give up and –’

  ‘We’re here!’ announced Simon, cutting her off. Both Emma and Mystic looked to Simon, who was pointing at a house by the side of a cracked wall. The windows and roof were intact, but it still looked just as blue and gloomy as any other house in the dark Underground.

  ‘Well, shou
ld we go inside?’ offered Simon.

  Emma simply nodded, while Mystic sniffed the air uneasily. The metal door creaked when Simon pushed it open, and a bright light shone out onto the ground. Emma looked over her shoulder for a second, an eerie feeling washing over her. There was something strange in the distant blackness.

  Past the wide, uneven road and beyond the dark lumps of houses, Emma could have sworn she had seen the slits of two eyes staring out at her – two golden eyes.

  ‘Emma,’ hissed Mystic, and she snapped her attention back to the cat. ‘What are you staring at?’ he asked cautiously.

  ‘Nothing,’ she replied quickly, moving past him and into the light of the house. He followed her, but with a watchful eye over his shoulder.

  Simon closed the door behind them, shutting off the light to the world outside, and Emma found herself in a cozy kitchen. Shoes were on the floor next to her and a small coat rack sat against the wall. An island counter occupied the centre of the kitchen, while a table leaned against the far wall. A red fridge plastered with photos and magnets stood next to a matching stove, where a young man with dishevelled brown hair stood with a frying pan resting in his left hand. He turned when he heard the door shut.

  ‘Hey, little brother!’ he greeted. He had the same green eyes as Simon, but a nose with significantly less freckles. His smile was uneven. ‘Finally brought home a girlfriend, have you?’

  Simon seemed flustered about this. ‘She isn’t my girlfriend,’ he scolded his brother.

  ‘Oh? Did you bring her home to meet me then?’ Matt joked.

  Emma flushed, when Simon growled. ‘Shut up already!’ he retorted.

  Matt laughed and poured a creamy substance out of a bowl into the frying pan on the stove. ‘I hope you like pancakes.’ His statement was directed at Emma, who nodded and smiled. ‘Great, I’ll make extra for you.’

  Simon rolled his eyes and stomped across the kitchen towards the table. He slumped down into a seat. ‘They want to talk to you,’ he said, gesturing over at Emma.

  ‘They?’ questioned Matt, lifting a glass of water up to his lips.

  Emma felt something brush against her legs, and she quickly looked down to see Mystic’s tail swaying back and forth. He came out from hiding behind her, while – at the same time – Matt took a mouthful of water. Upon seeing the creature, he instantly spit out his beverage, spraying it across the kitchen.

  Simon lifted an eyebrow. ‘I’m not cleaning that up,’ he stated quickly.

  Meanwhile, Matt was staring down at the cat, oblivious of the mess he had just created. ‘What … what are you doing here?’ he breathed.

  ‘I’ve come to play an old game of ours,’ said Mystic warily. ‘A secret … for a secret.’

  Matt turned his head a little to the side and placed the glass on the island. He leaned his hands against the counter and kept his eyes on the black creature on the floor. ‘I told you the last time … no more games for me,’ he said.

  ‘What are you two talking about?’ piped up Simon. ‘What secrets?’ He rose out of his chair. ‘Why does everyone have secrets all of a sudden?’

  ‘Shut up, Simon!’ instructed Matt, not moving his eyes off Mystic. ‘Why have you come here? What could you possibly know that’s so important –’

  ‘This secret is just as big as the last,’ cut in Mystic, ‘if not bigger.’

  This silenced Matt. He leaned back, lifted his hands from the counter and slowly paced the floor. ‘And you’re going to tell me this secret … just like before?’ He shot the cat a quick glance and came to a sudden halt. ‘How do I know this won’t place me into any danger, like before?’

  ‘That’s for you to take a chance on,’ replied Mystic, leaping up onto the counter. ‘Believe me, Matt. You want to know this.’

  ‘It’s about stopping –’ Emma paused, seeing Mystic flashing a warning look at her.

  ‘Did I tell you to say something?’ he retorted.

  Emma shook her head and bit her lip. ‘Well, no, but I figured if he was willing to accept any truth at all, I should at least warn him.’

  Matt seemed to smile at that. ‘Where did you pick her up, Simon?’ he murmured, but then his smile slowly faded. He glanced back to Mystic. ‘She’s not –’

  ‘Yes,’ said Mystic quickly, inspecting his right paw.

  ‘What!’ exploded Matt. ‘How could you do something like this! How could you bring her –’ he flung out his hand in Emma’s direction ‘– into our world!’

  ‘Wait a minute …’ said Simon slowly. He gave Emma a questioning look. ‘You’re not from this world?’

  ‘No, Simon, she’s not,’ said Matt in a rather annoyed voice, ‘and this accursed creature sitting on the counter has brought her here. For that, I should wring his filthy neck.’

  Mystic clicked his tongue. ‘That isn’t a very nice thing to say. I thought we were friends?’

  Matt gave the cat a hard stare. ‘We have a history together. That doesn’t make us friends,’ he said bluntly. ‘Do you even know what the city council will do to her if they catch her? Do you know what Vanyir will do if he catches her?’

  At the very mention of that name, Simon seemed to fringe. Emma asked, ‘He’s the leader of the Black Fortress, isn’t he?’

  Matt looked her way, shock filled his eyes. He glared at Mystic. ‘What have you been telling her?’ he demanded.

  ‘Nothing,’ murmured Mystic. ‘She may have … overheard a few things, though. I had a meeting with Professor Ripley.’

  ‘Huh, that old cog,’ muttered Matt, ‘and what did he say?’

  ‘Hmm, nothing useful, I’m afraid,’ replied Mystic. ‘He was being … difficult.’

  Matt frowned. ‘What did you do to him?’ he asked.

  ‘Nothing too serious,’ said Mystic, amused. ‘I have discovered, however, that he is a traitor to our cause.’

  ‘I’m not part of this!’ snapped Matt. He pointed to his brother. ‘Neither is Simon. Understand?’

  The younger Wheeler brother opened his mouth to make a comment, but Matt flashed him a look that made him shut it again. Mystic seemed entertained by all of this, and he sniffed the air briefly.

  ‘My, what is that smell?’ he questioned.

  Matt sniffed too, and then exclaimed, ‘My pancakes!’

  With lightning speed he whirled around, grabbing the frying pan by the handle and letting it drop onto another burner. He flicked off the stove and studied his pancakes – which had all burned to a fine black crisp.

  Matt turned and glowered at Mystic. ‘Are you leaving yet?’ he snapped.

  Mystic straightened on the counter. ‘No,’ he said, his voice full of surprise. ‘But … aren’t you going to ask the girl her name?’

  Matt muttered something that sounded like, ‘I don’t care who she is …’ But then he looked towards “the girl” and said, ‘Sorry I didn’t ask, but what’s your name?’

  ‘Emma Reeve,’ she replied, though not as chipper as she was when she first arrived here.

  At the mention of her name, however, Matt seemed to be lost in thought. His eyes were nearly bulging out of their sockets.

  ‘Emma … Reeve?’ he almost whispered. He swallowed and looked down at the cat. ‘You brought the name of Lucian Reeve here?’

  ‘Who’s that?’ asked Emma quickly. ‘Who is Lucian Reeve?’

  ‘Well, not really just his name …’ murmured the cat, studying his paw again. ‘More like a … descendant.’

  ‘What?’ Matt almost choked on the word.

  ‘Who – is – Lucian – Reeve!’ Emma almost shouted. This was quite annoying … and quite frustrating. She had listened through most of the conversation, but none of it seemed to make much sense at all to her … until now.

  Matt cleared his throat, and then met her gaze. ‘Lucian Reeve … he was the owner of the Dragon’s Tear.’

  ~ Chapter Six ~

  Lucian and Vanyir

  Although their pancakes had burned to a fine pile of black rocks,
Matt got started on another batch. He would not speak to any of them until he had finished his cooking. Simon had seated himself to the table again and Emma joined him, even more confused about this world and its secrets. Mystic was lying patiently on top of the counter, watching Matt with curiosity as he flipped the pancakes and placed them all on plates.

  It was nice to have something to eat. Emma had not eaten for hours now, but her stomach was all in knots and refused to accept any food. The pancakes looked delicious, especially with golden syrup poured down over them, but she could hardly take more than a bite.

  Matt sat down next to Simon and studied her for a while, which only made her more anxious, until she pushed away her plate.

  ‘What’s your father’s name?’ asked Matt suddenly.

  Emma swallowed her first bite and put the fork back on top of the rejected plate of pancakes. ‘Lucas Reeve,’ she answered. ‘He prefers Luke, though.’

  Matt nodded. ‘And you look like him?’

  She shook her head. ‘He says I take after my mother.’ Her voice dropped as she spoke.

  ‘What other family do you have?’ continued Matt with his questioning.

  ‘Just my father and I,’ said Emma, tracing her name onto the table with her finger. ‘My – my mother left when I was only young, and I don’t know anyone of her side of the family. My father’s parents died when I was only an infant.’

  Matt stared at the table for a few seconds or so, tapping his finger against the wood, until finally glancing over at Mystic. ‘What are we going to do with her?’

  The cat shrugged and laid his head on his paws. ‘Maybe you should give her a lesson in history.’

  ‘Is that what you came here for?’ demanded Matt. ‘Stories? You could have told her those yourself.’

  Mystic yawned. ‘Of course that’s not why I came,’ he said. ‘Get on with the lesson and I’ll explain what I want with you afterwards.’