‘Good to see you too, boy,’ he murmured.
Matt clicked open the door and the three entered. Mystic decided to wait outside, muttering something about being trampled alive.
Emma had seen many dragons that had looked very different from one another, but these two looked very similar. They almost looked identical, if not for their colour.
‘They’re brothers,’ replied Matt, when Emma had enquired about it. He patted the green dragon’s neck. ‘Inseparable since birth.’
Emma smiled at the irony. ‘Just like the two of you,’ she said, glancing from one Wheeler sibling to the other.
‘Yeah, just like us,’ said Simon, giving a face.
‘This is Shartaug,’ introduced Matt, laying his hand on the green dragon’s head and ignoring his brother. ‘He’s my dragon.’
‘I think that was obvious,’ muttered Simon. He smirked at his brother, who glared back.
‘Simon here couldn’t think up a proud name for poor Redfyre,’ retorted Matt.
‘Red likes his name just fine, thank you very much!’ rejoined Simon. ‘It’s you who couldn’t think up a good name. I mean, Shartaug. What kind of name is – h-hey! Cut that out!’
Simon jumped back, the jaws of Shartaug snapping near his torso. Matt laughed and wrapped his arm around his dragon’s neck. ‘You shouldn’t make fun of Shartaug like that,’ he said smugly.
Simon scowled and looked up at Redfyre. ‘Aren’t you going to at least pretend to defend me?’ he questioned. The dragon snorted and lowered its head, pushing it against Simon’s chest. He sighed. ‘You’re completely useless, you know that?’
Emma sat down on the top of the metal fence and watched the two brothers strap thick, heavy saddles onto their dragons. She noticed the one Simon had taken from the back of the stall had two seats instead of one, which meant she was going to be riding with him. She glanced over her shoulder and down at Mystic, who had curled up against the side of the stall fence opposite of her. His eyes were watching the people of the Compound. She lowered herself down from the wall into a crouching position and looked through the gaps in the steel.
‘Mystic?’ she whispered to him.
The cat’s ear perked and then drooped again. ‘What is it?’
‘Where are we going?’ she quietly replied.
‘To the east,’ he answered.
Emma bit her lip. ‘I thought you said not many travel east, and that it was … starting to become like a wasteland.’
‘It is,’ he said. ‘But you’ll be safe with me.’
She slowly rose to her feet – her thoughts troubled – and then lowered herself back down to the ground.
‘Mystic?’ she whispered again.
‘Yes?’ he said, not even trying to hide the irritation in his voice.
‘Those Dark Riders …’ said Emma slowly, ‘they came to my house too. They … they didn’t hang around there, did they? I mean –’
‘Your father is fine,’ interrupted the cat.
‘How do you know?’ questioned Emma, her voice shaking. ‘How do you know they didn’t stay there and wait for him?’
‘I just know,’ said Mystic. ‘They aren’t after him, so stop worrying.’
Emma slowly nodded her head. ‘All right,’ she said gently. She rose up to full height once more and looked to the Wheeler brothers, checking their progress with the saddles.
To her surprise, they were already hoisting themselves up onto their dragons’ backs. The knapsacks were strapped to Shartaug’s back.
‘Are you coming?’ asked Simon, holding out his hand to her. She swallowed anxiously and then took the offer, allowing him to help her up into the saddle.
‘Where’s Mystic?’ questioned Matt, searching the ground.
The cat had climbed up the metal railings of the stall fence, and was now perched on the top rung. He jumped straight onto Emma’s saddle. Matt raised an eyebrow.
‘I can strap you to Shartaug,’ he suggested. ‘It would be safer.’
Mystic snorted and dug his claws into the fabric of the saddle. ‘I think I’ll take my chances where I am,’ he replied. He glanced – light-eyed – up to Emma. ‘You wouldn’t push me off, would you?’
Emma gasped. ‘Never!’ she exclaimed, which strangely caused the cat to laugh.
‘All right,’ muttered Matt, clicking his tongue. Shartaug moved forward towards the door. ‘You’ve had your fun, so let’s go now.’
‘The fun is just beginning,’ murmured Mystic, and then closed his violet eyes.
Emma griped the horn of the saddle as Redfyre trotted out of the stall, following Shartaug back down through the Compound. Their pace was quick, eager. It was almost as though they knew where they were headed.
The guards did not stop them, or even give more than a glance at the two dragons and their riders as they passed. The creatures ran through the steel doors and up the dirt trail into the city. Even though she was sitting atop Redfyre, Emma did not feel safe. The monsters those Dark Riders rode were twice the size of a normal dragon. They could easily tear Redfyre and Shartaug to pieces.
Thankfully, it seemed the evil beasts were nowhere to be seen. With no danger at hand, both dragons broke into a run, heading east through Dwenin. Despite their size, their feet landed lightly against the stone streets, and Emma felt as though she was gliding on nothing but air.
Shartaug halted near a coffee shop, his head stretching up to sniff the air. Redfyre whimpered behind him, pawing at the ground.
Matt turned to Simon. ‘Split up,’ he instructed.
‘Are you crazy?’ questioned Simon, directing Redfyre to step up in place with Shartaug. He lowered his voice. ‘If we separate, they’ll have us right where they want us. They’ll all gang up on Redfyre.’
‘Not unless they catch you,’ said Matt, giving his brother a smirk. ‘Are you going to let that happen?’
Simon glared back. ‘No,’ he muttered.
‘Well then,’ said Matt, pushing Shartaug forward. ‘You take the back roads and I’ll take the main roads. Meet me at the White Rock.’
Without another word, Matt rode off on Shartaug, leaving behind nothing but blank stares from his companions. Simon snorted and clicked his tongue, giving Redfyre the signal to run. The dragon nimbly jumped over a garden fence – Emma hanging onto the saddle horn to keep from falling – and landed in the back yard of a small house. He darted over another railing and onto the dusty back roads of Dwenin. The rears of houses were their only view now.
Voices faded away and so did the pleasant atmosphere of the city. Redfyre’s loud breathing was the only thing heard, along with his quick steps. Then the cozy homes disappeared and only the fences remained. Concrete buildings and ruined houses rose up, giving the air of a ghost town. Farther down the narrow path, grass shot up through the dirt and covered the old road.
‘Where are we, Simon?’ whispered Emma, frightened of the sudden change.
‘Old Dwenin,’ he replied, cautiously looking around. ‘Fire destroyed it nearly fifty years ago. It’s been a hangout for rogue dragons ever since.’ He glanced over his shoulder at Mystic. ‘I bet he knows the whole story.’
‘Mystic seems to know a lot of stories,’ said Emma quietly, watching the cat sleep.
Simon gave a short laugh. ‘That’s because he’s been around since … I don’t know, forever?’
‘Just because my eyes are closed,’ spoke up Mystic suddenly, ‘doesn’t mean I can’t hear you, idiot.’
Simon took on a mocking tone of voice. ‘Just because my eyes are –’
His imitation stopped, though, as Redfyre let out a low growl and dug his talons deep into the ground, bringing his running to an abrupt halt. Emma was thrown against Simon and then dropped back into her saddle again. She realized whiplash would not have been much different from what she had just experienced.
‘Are you okay?’ asked Simon, glancing over his shoulder at Emma.
‘Is she okay?’ growled Mystic, whose paws were over his
head. ‘I almost got crushed to death!’
Simon smirked. ‘Well, Matt did offer to strap you to Shartaug,’ he said. He turned back to Redfyre. ‘What’s wrong, boy? Why’d you stop?’
The dragon’s ears were laid back against his head, his eyes alert and searching. Simon did not like that at all, and he reached down and pulled out a black rod from underneath his saddle. He gripped it firmly at the centre and it suddenly extended another few inches at each end, revealing sharp blades.
‘Tch,’ murmured Mystic. ‘What do you think that’s going to do? Scratch someone?’
‘Want me to demonstrate on you?’ snapped Simon.
‘Your impudence is really getting to me,’ said Mystic through his teeth.
A loud crash sounded behind them. Redfyre whipped his head around, a deep rumbling filling his throat. As Emma turned to look, a black shape emerged through the dust-filled air. The Dark Rider had seemingly plunged his steed through a concrete wall, which explained the crashing noise and the swirl of chalky powder that cloaked the road farther down.
The black dragon dropped his jaw and a piercing roar escaped its mouth. The dust swirled back as though a gust of wind had blown it away.
‘How I hate those monsters,’ muttered Mystic. ‘They’re a disgusting mockery of G’zardac’s children.’
The beast took a step forward, but only one step was enough for Simon. ‘Run, Red!’ he shouted.
Redfyre did not wait for second instructions. He broke into a fast-paced sprint. Behind them, in the drifting dust that Redfyre created, followed the black dragon, its jaws still open and demanding.
Emma watched in horror as the black monstrosity chased them down the narrow road, its spiked wings and tail demolishing the fences as it ran. The rider on top raised a slim sword above his head.
‘A rapier,’ murmured Emma, and gripped tightly onto the saddle horn. She felt Mystic’s ears brush her wrists and her head turned to glance down at him. He was also watching the black dragon, his eyes wide and dark.
‘Faster,’ he hissed. ‘We have to be faster.’
‘We are going fast,’ snapped Simon, concentrating on the road. ‘Red is going as fast as he can!’
‘Then maybe he should be going faster!’ snarled Mystic. ‘If we don’t get off this road that Dark Rider will be upon us in seconds!’
Emma gulped and glanced over her shoulder again. The cat was right. The black dragon was gaining ground. Redfyre was no match for something twice his size and length. Whatever those creatures were, they had no comparison in looks to the other dragons. Now that it was so close, Emma could see the muddled features of its face. It had no qualities of a proud and noble dragon, but a more deathly and vile look. The inside of its mouth had two long rows of what looked like narrow, shark-like teeth.
‘That building!’ exclaimed Mystic, pointing his paw towards a concrete structure to their right. ‘Fly over it! The monster behind us won’t have enough wingspan to take flight! By the time they reach the other side, we’ll be long gone!’
‘Nice idea, but you fail to notice that Redfyre doesn’t exactly have enough wingspan, either,’ retorted Simon.
‘You’re such a stupid human,’ muttered the cat, and he tilted his head down against Redfyre’s side. ‘Think you can do it?’ he addressed the dragon. ‘One flight over that building and touchdown on the other side?’
Redfyre roared softly and spread his rusted-coloured wings. Simon looked bewildered. ‘W-what are you doing, boy?’ he stammered. ‘You can’t fly here!’
The dragon was not listening to his rider, as he beat his wings once … twice … three times against the fast wind. The fourth time he struck a leaning fence post and pierced his wing. Redfyre faltered, flapping only one wing, and sauntered off to one side, both humans and the cat slipping from their seats.
‘You stupid cat!’ shouted Simon, glaring over his shoulder at Mystic. ‘Look what you’ve done!’
Mystic said nothing. His dark eyes were locked on the concrete building. Redfyre seemed to regain his balance, but the black dragon was nearly upon them now, with its open mouth snapping shut against the scent of fresh blood in the air. It let out a whimpering roar.
‘Now,’ hissed Mystic, his eyes flickering to Redfyre. ‘Do it!’
The red dragon forced his left wing to flap again, and then he jumped. Emma held her breath as they plunged upwards into the air. For a moment, it felt as though gravity had suspended them there, but Redfyre was only gliding. Then, with a powerful beat of wings, the dragon was flying. Emma looked over her shoulder and down at the world below, where the black dragon was trying desperately to chase after them. Fortunately, Mystic had been right. It could not find enough space on the road to spread its wings to fly.
Redfyre was high into the air now, heading straight towards the concrete building, and as he flew over it … Emma looked down.
She gasped at what she saw.
Stone dragons – dozens of them – were within the walls of the roofless building. Some of the dragons were lying on the ground, seemingly lifeless. Others were up on two legs, their wings spread and their mouths wide, as though defending themselves. Most had an arm missing or a tail cut off. Then there was the one at the far back, which was the largest and most slender of the bunch. Its tail was curled, its back arched, its wings tucked in, and its head held high and proud. A certain sadness reflected from its stony, yet shiny, eyes.
‘That was Syria,’ said Mystic softly. ‘She was the second daughter of G’zardac. Her end was tragic.’
‘But … they look like stone statues,’ murmured Emma, as they flew away from the building and the figures faded from her sight. ‘I thought that dragons decomposed … like normal animals.’
‘Dragons are not animals,’ said Mystic. ‘They are magical creatures. When they die, they turn to stone and are forever preserved within rock.’ He turned away from the building. ‘That is where the people of Dragonis believe dragons truly come from – the earth itself.’
Redfyre landed on the road, now on the opposite side of the building. Their foe was left on the other, but possibly still figuring out a way to get around in the rat-maze ruins.
‘How did she die?’ asked Emma, as Redfyre broke into another run.
Mystic was quiet for a while, and then softly said, ‘She chose her own death.’
~ Chapter Nine ~
The White Rock
As Redfyre and his riders left Dwenin behind, no followers pursued them, and the four companions were somewhat relieved. The open land stretched out before them as far as Emma could see. Grasslands rose and fell for miles upon miles, with nothing only scattered trees and rocks to set eyes on. A river ran alongside them, reflecting the redness of the evening sun on its clear surface. Overhead, the sky was beginning to darken.
‘It’s like … a magical world,’ murmured Emma, her eyes taking in the beautiful landscape that surrounded her.
Mystic chuckled. ‘That’s because it is a magical world,’ he said.
When the grass grew higher, farther to their left, the small heads of dragons peeked above the green blades. They were half the size of a normal dragon, wingless with short arms. Emma wished she had a camera. She felt like she was on some sort of safari adventure.
‘Herder dragons,’ said Simon. ‘Some people like to ride those. They’re quite fast and good for climbing.’
The tall grasses swerved right, and Redfyre soon plunged through the meadow. Grass brushed against Emma’s jeans, creating a swishing sound. Redfyre opened his jaws and snapped up a mouthful of grass. He nibbled on it.
‘Hey! Spit that out!’ instructed Simon, tapping his dragon on the neck. ‘Do you want to end up sick?’
Redfyre snorted, but then grudgingly obeyed Simon’s reasoning. He spat the grass out and lapped up a field mouse instead.
‘Yeah, that’s good,’ retorted Simon. ‘Just eat and run at the same time; a great way to burn off all your calories.’
Redfyre lifted his head up an
d roared, which made Emma laugh and Mystic snigger.
‘Yeah, laugh it up,’ muttered Simon.
As they emerged out of the grasslands and onto open land again, Emma noticed the peaks of sparkling, jagged rocks in the distance. They expanded out in the shape of many crystals, the rocks farther to the back shadowed and more sinister looking.
‘What’s that?’ breathed Emma, rising in her saddle to get a better look.
‘The White Rock,’ replied Mystic. ‘Matt said he’d meet us there. You’ll be safe once we arrive.’
The gap between the grasslands and the crystal-like structure did not take long to cross upon the back of Redfyre. They reached it within five minutes, which Simon clearly stated was not their best record. The White Rock seemed eerie to Emma, as its sharp edges pierced the air like the points of many swords; the outer rocks all basked in the warm sunlight.
Redfyre leaped up onto the lowest rock from the ground and walked carefully around a tall, crystal-shaped stone. The sun faded from their view and Emma noticed how chilly it became without that bit of light. It was not dark, but a pale dimness that radiated coldness and death. As they turned corners and manoeuvred around more rocks, they grew closer to the centre of the strange structure, until – at last – they were at its heart.
The centre was hollow, with a sloping floor like the shape of a bowl. Shards of sunlight came down through the jagged roof, only lighting up tiny sections of the core. Curled up on the rounded, stone slab was Shartaug, and leaning against the dragon’s side was his rider, Matt. A fire in the middle crackled pleasantly in the windless structure.
‘How long have you been here?’ asked Simon, guiding Redfyre over towards his brother and dragon.
‘Long enough,’ answered Matt, a handful of twigs between his fingers. He chucked one into the fire. ‘What took you so long?’
‘It seems those monsters like the back roads more than the front roads,’ said Simon, sliding off Redfyre. ‘One of them followed us almost to the outskirts of Dwenin.’
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