Sure enough, the boarded up windows and loose siding of a building came into view, and Luke stopped the car. That had to be the place. He got out – forgetting to lock his vehicle – and wandered over to the place. He looked in through the window, saw the vacant room inside, and smiled.
‘Clever, indeed,’ he murmured. He moved over to the doorway and knocked on it three times.
It only took a few seconds of waiting before the door swung open. A short man appeared, his black hair combed back over his head. He squinted at Lucas, and then looked him over.
‘Who are you?’ he demanded.
Luke glanced over the short man and inside the theatre, where a bar and restaurant seemed to be thriving. He saw a hallway to the left of the bar, which would be the most possible way to the portal.
‘Are you deaf!’ said the podgy man.
Luke looked back down to the gatekeeper. ‘I’m very sorry,’ he apologized. ‘I got sidetracked.’ The man snorted. ‘My name is Lucas – uh – Raven.’
‘Raven?’ said the gatekeeper warily, looking over Luke once more. ‘I’ve never heard of a Lucas Raven.’
‘Of course not, ’said Luke. ‘I’ve never introduced myself to you before. Now please, I’d like to get back home.’
‘Home?’ laughed the gatekeeper. He swung his hand out towards the room inside. At the moment there were no people inside, just the dim lights that hung overhead. ‘What do you see in here, Mr. Raven? Do you see a house or do you see a bar and diner?’
Luke frowned and pressed his hand against the door, pushing it in further. The short man widened his eyes and took a step back, letting a growl escape from his lips.
‘What do you think you’re doing!’ he demanded. ‘Do you want me to call the police on you!’
‘Try it,’ dared Luke, stepping into the room. ‘I’ll have one of the drayskuls eat you later.’
The gatekeeper gulped. ‘Ah, well, you do live here, and are one of them,’ he rambled. ‘Pardon old Pilmer’s rudeness, and please don’t report me to your lord, sir. I have to use caution when strangers come knocking.’
‘About that,’ murmured Luke, shutting the door behind him. ‘Have you seen a girl come through here lately?’
‘A girl?’ said Pilmer.
‘Yes, a young teenage girl,’ explained Luke. ‘She would be just a little shorter than me with brown hair and eyes. Have you seen her?’
Pilmer scratched his chin, murmuring to himself for a moment, and then he snapped his fingers. ‘Yes! Yes, I remember a girl!’ he exclaimed. He lowered his voice just as quick. ‘But she was with that cat.’
‘Cat?’ questioned Luke, raising his eyebrows.
‘Yes, Ripley’s messenger,’ muttered Pilmer. ‘Nasty little creature, always meddling around with everything. Don’t ask me how that thing learned how to talk, because that’s beyond my knowledge.’
‘A talking cat?’ Luke tried to wrap his head around it, but he had never heard of such a creature. Though, if the gatekeeper was right about that...
Then Emma really had been led into Dragonis!
‘Yes, Mr. Raven.’ Pilmer shifted over towards the counter of his bar. ‘Shall I get you something to eat or drink? People travel all the way from Dwenin and beyond to sit down here for a spell.’
‘No thank you,’ murmured Luke, heading towards the hallway on his left. ‘I – I have to get home.’
He ran down over the flight of stairs, ignoring the gatekeeper’s voice behind him. At the bottom a shimmering wall stared back at him, casting a faint glow upon his young face. He swallowed anxiously and touched a hand to the surface of the wall. His fingers drifted through it like the surface of a river. He pulled away, suddenly uneasy of what awaited him beyond the portal.
I have to go now, dad. I’ll see you tonight, okay? I love you.
Emmaline’s voice cut into his thoughts, pushing out his fear. That was the last thing she had said to him, and he knew – from that line alone – that she had been in trouble. Just the apprehension in her voice had made him doubt her wellbeing. He had not reached her in time, though. She was lost somewhere in the world of Dragonis.
‘Time to go back,’ he murmured, and then pushed himself through the magical barrier. A bright, blue light filled his eyes. He threw up a hand, blocking the gleam of the other world. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he let his sights settle upon a different place than what he had once remembered.
He was an underground train station. Only a few other people joined him in the massive area, along with something he had not seen in a long time: a dragon.
‘Flyer,’ whispered Luke. He smiled, despite his predicament, and walked towards the large, green dragon.
Flyer saw him coming and stretched out his large head, the passengers onboard sliding to the side in their seats as he did so. Luke laughed and reached up his hand, touching the dragon on his broad nose.
‘Hey, boy,’ he murmured. ‘Did you miss me?’
The dragon gave a gentle roar, and Luke’s hair fluttered back. He laughed again and pushed against Flyer’s nose. The dragon guffawed and pulled away, his eyes shining.
‘I’m ready for a ride into the city,’ said Luke. He lowered his voice. ‘My daughter was here yesterday. You haven’t happened to see her?’
Flyer lowered his head and snorted. Luke frowned. ‘In that case, I’d better get moving,’ he said.
He climbed aboard Flyer, taking a seat beside a young girl with an annoyed expression on her face. The other passengers had the same look, which caused Luke to flush and turn away. He guessed they were angry at the holdup … and about nearly sliding out of their seats.
Flyer beat his wings against the still air of the underground station and Luke felt a familiar excitement course through his veins. The dragon rose into the air, leaving the earth behind, and started his flight down the dark tunnel. Luke gripped his seat in anxiousness and breathed out his contained exhilaration.
Sunlight filled the end of the passageway, and Flyer shot through the light as though he was breaching the surface of a lake instead of the exit of a tunnel. Lucas leaned forward in his seat and waited.
He waited to see something that didn’t exist.
~ Chapter Eleven ~
The Outlands
It only took one call to wake Emma from her dreamless sleep. She sat up and yawned, unused to waking so early, and then looked around. Simon was inspecting Redfyre’s wound again, but Matt and Shartaug were nowhere to be seen. Mystic was pacing a wide circle around the dead fire, stopping ever so often and turning, only to walk the same path again.
‘Where’s Matt?’ questioned Emma, slowly getting to her feet. Her back felt unusually stiff.
‘Oh, hey, morning,’ said Simon, looking her way. ‘Matt’s gone out patrolling. Seems there were some drayskuls out there last night.’
‘Yeah,’ murmured Emma, rubbing her neck. ‘I think sleeping on that rock floor might have permanently injured me.’
Simon gave a small smile. ‘No, it wasn’t the ground,’ he said. ‘It’s from riding, but you’ll get used to that after a while. We all do. Just keep your back straight. It’ll be fine.’
Emma nodded and then wondered how long she would be stuck in this world. It was not that she did not like her newfound friends – Simon, Matt, and even Mystic. It was not that she didn’t like the beauty of this magical world, either. She missed the things that made sense, the things that were real, and the things that reminded her that secret worlds never truly existed, only in dreams and stories. With those things came the feeling of comfort and safety, emotions that were never present here.
Mystic had promised – repeatedly promised – that he would keep her safe, that she was safe, but what could a simple cat do? And who was he anyway? There were just so many questions bubbling inside her head to which she wished she had the answers. Some of those questions even her three companions knew not the answers of, like: why did Vanyir want the stones? And: how were they going to defeat the thousand
year old dragon rider?
The word defeat took on a completely new meaning this morning. Before, they were only talking about stories and old legends. Now, they were actually on their way to the east where she assumed the Black Fortress stood.
‘Simon,’ said Emma. ‘What does the Black Fortress look like?’
The young rider instantly stopped his inspection of Redfyre, turning his head slowly towards Emma, a mixture of fear and dread in his eyes.
‘Why – why do you want to know that?’ he stammered.
‘Well, we are going there, aren’t we?’ questioned Emma. ‘I just wanted to know what our destination looked like.’
‘W-well, it’s … uh … black and …’ Simon rubbed his neck and shrugged, ‘tall?’
‘That’s it?’ said Emma, disappointed. ‘You mean … you don’t know what it actually looks like?’
‘Such impudence,’ muttered Mystic from the ground. He had halted his pacing, but his back was turned to them both. ‘Asking such a question will get you nowhere.’ He tilted his head a little so that one violet eye was visible. Emma frowned when she saw the way its centre seemed to come to life, like travelling clouds in the sky. ‘The Black Fortress – within Vashgal – is not a place that should be discussed so openly.’
‘Why not?’ demanded Emma. ‘You talk about its leader loudly enough. What’s so bad about speaking of the place?’
Mystic suddenly hissed, spinning around with darkened eyes. ‘Vashgal is a cursed place, a dragon graveyard!’ he snapped. He turned his back to them again, too furious even to look at either of the two humans, even though Simon had taken no part in the questioning. He sat down quietly. ‘Never ever ask that question again, not until we’re standing on Vashgal’s darken grounds.’
Emma frowned in disappointment, but she let the conversation slide. It was not her place, after all, to ask questions that would cause Mystic pain. Simon did not seem to have an answer for her either, judging by the apprehensive expression that had covered his face when she mentioned it. That did not mean she couldn’t ask Matt later, though. Maybe he had an answer for her.
‘We don’t know where we are going,’ said Mystic, his voice still plastered full of anger. ‘If Vanyir still has the stone, then yes, we are going to the Black Fortress. As it currently stands, we are just trying to get as far away from Dwenin as possible. Ripley probably has the place swarming with Dark Riders by now.’
‘Why do you think he betrayed you?’ questioned Simon. ‘I mean, he’s the mayor of Dwenin. Why would he sell out the safety of his city? He knows what Vanyir is like, so shouldn’t he have kept it all a secret?’
Mystic gave an impatient sigh. ‘If I knew the answers to those questions then I would have never gone to the old professor in the beginning.’
‘So much for trustworthy people, huh?’ muttered Simon.
‘Yes,’ murmured the cat, glancing sideways at the freckled-face human. ‘They are hard to find.’
The sound of running echoed faintly in Emma’s ears, until it grew loud enough to hear within all the walls of the White Rock. Shartaug’s head appeared through the secret passageway, snorting and huffing as his heavy footsteps slowed into a leisurely walk. Emma just glimpsed the end of a blade retreating into its hard, black casing when Matt came into view. He slid the black staff underneath his saddle and rode over towards the other three.
‘There’s nothing out there,’ he announced. ‘They must have moved on.’
‘On to where?’ Simon shifted uneasily. ‘They may be behind or in front of us now. Personally, I’d rather be following them, but if it turns out the other way around …’
‘Then we stay here,’ finished Matt.
‘We’re not staying here,’ snapped Mystic. ‘We’re leaving … right now.’
Matt snorted. ‘Trying to be a hero?’ he retorted. ‘Or are you trying to kill us all?’
The cat narrowed his eyes, which gave more effect than one would think. ‘The last time I checked, I was in charge of this journey, not you.’
Matt did not look the least bit happy about listening to anything the black cat had to say, and Emma did not see him as the type of person to just obey every order thrown at him.
‘No, maybe we’d all rather follow your advice and wait here until one of the Dark Riders discovers us,’ said Mystic tartly. ‘There’s a town farther east called Gunclove. We will stay there for the night. The dragons can hide outside the village. That way, if the Dark Riders come snooping around the inn’s stables, they won’t find any clues.’
Matt sat upon his dragon in silence, assumingly thinking of this plan, but Simon looked wary of the idea. ‘Gunclove,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that the home of the Dragon Marauders?’
Emma gulped. She did not like the sound of that. Marauder was another name for thief or outlaw. Wouldn’t venturing into the home of a wild band of thieves be just as dangerous as five Dark Riders and their horrible monsters?
‘That’s what I’m thinking about,’ murmured Matt. ‘If we head to Gunclove – without being followed – and those bandits give us a rough time, we can tell them that the drayskuls are following us.’
‘They might purposely throw us out,’ muttered Simon, crossing his arms. ‘Feed us to the creatures to save their own skin. They’re like that, you know.’
Mystic tapped his paw against his chin. ‘Well …’
‘I doubt they would turn away travellers,’ said Emma thoughtfully, ‘especially if we make it known that we are enemies of Vanyir.’
Matt seemed to warm up to the idea, because a small, crooked smile slowly stretched across his face. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘We could mention that piece of information.’
‘That’s if they give us trouble,’ murmured Mystic, as he leaped up onto Red-Fang’s second saddle. ‘No use causing a disturbance over nothing.’
Simon rolled his eyes and mounted his dragon. Emma did the same, careful not to crush Mystic’s tail when she sat down. She did not want to cause a disturbance. She wondered what kind of disturbance would await them in Gunclove.
The dragons left the secret room of the White Rock behind, leaving nothing but a burned out fire to show that they were hiding there. As they turned the corner in the passageway to the outside, Emma looked to her left, towards the wall with the carved letters, and just glimpsed that name again. Mirth. It was the only name engraved on the wall. Before she could sneak a look at the other side, Redfyre was out of the tunnel and into the daylight. It always seemed bright and warm in this world, Emma noticed.
The dragons left the White Rock behind and headed farther east, the winding river always to their right. The grasslands faded from view and so did the green atmosphere of the land. The air grew heavier as they travelled onwards, more warm to the touch. Emma had looked up several times to see if storm clouds were gathering, as warm and heavy air usually meant rain most of the time. But the skies were spotted with white clouds instead of grey and it was utterly blue and peaceful.
None of the drayskuls appeared to be following them, so the ride was peaceful enough – despite how rugged the land seemed to turn once they crossed from grass to dirt. The earth seemed to take on a paler quality now. Gravel and sand crunched underneath Redfyre’s claws, until his footsteps grew so heavy that he slowed. The air was even thicker, heat heavy in the wind. They seemed to have crossed over into a desert.
‘Welcome to the Outlands,’ murmured Simon with a sigh. He glanced over his shoulder and added a sarcastic edge to his voice. ‘You’ll love it here.’
The title seemed to suit the land. It was a barren wasteland as far as Emma could see. Scattered trees with rocks as companions were about the only signs of life spotted on the wide extension of land. The river still wandered on though, as if guiding them forward through the wilderness. Emma wondered where in this desolated place a town could be hidden. It was completely flat for miles onward, and nothing in that space of emptiness resembled a city or even a village. Matt had said they would spend the night
there, and Emma hoped he was right.
The dragons trudged onward, their footsteps slowed by the sand and loose rock. They could not stop here, though, as the ground was too soft. As they passed a cluster of trees, Emma saw something sticking up out of the ground. It looked almost like the roof of a house, but that would have been completely absurd.
Again, she heard a familiar voice fill her head; a voice she wished would show itself.
The world is changing, Mirth. Maybe we should change with it.
As she turned away from the swallowed house, she lost contact with that memory. She then became frightened of her newfound discovery, wondering why she heard people talking whenever she looked upon things from the past. That was what they were, right? The name on the wall and the house buried in the sand were both from long ago. They must have been. The name Mirth had appeared in both memories. Once on a wall and once spoken aloud. It was the same two people. It was their memories, but why was she having them? She did not know them, considering she had not lived so long ago.
Emma contemplated on whether or not she should ask one of her three companions who Mirth was, but – in the end – she decided that it was far better to leave anyone with the mighty title of “Dragon Slayer” out of conversation. That would have been a dangerous subject to bring up, considering Mystic wanted to save the dragons, and both Wheeler brothers had their own dragon and called them their friends. Now that she thought about it, being a Dragon Slayer would have been a very dangerous hobby – not because of the dragons, but because of all the people who loved dragons and were willing to rise up to defend their magical creatures.
The Secret World of Dragons Page 11