The Secret World of Dragons

by Sandra Harvey

  ‘Titus said –’

  ‘I don’t care about Titus!’ snapped Matt, his hands curling into fists. ‘He’s a soothsayer, like Mystic said. He was after something from us. He knows what we’re up to. It’s just a big coincidence.’

  ‘Flynn’s sister is at the Black Fortress,’ said Emma quickly, trying to get a word in before Matt could interrupt again.

  ‘Oh so that’s what he wants,’ said Matt hotly. ‘He wants us to risk our necks saving some girl. I told you he was a fake.’

  ‘Maybe we should have listened a bit longer,’ said Simon quietly.

  Matt rounded on his brother. ‘So you wanted a seer on our team, did you?’ he retorted. ‘Someone who could predict and control our futures?’

  ‘At least we would have known what to do!’ rejoined Simon angrily. ‘He said we had the same future, which meant that we all were going to the Black Fortress. If he wanted to save someone –’

  ‘Then he should go by himself!’ Matt turned and resumed his course. ‘Our job is far more important than his!’

  ‘It’s good to see you’re so passionate about our adventure,’ said Mystic amusingly. ‘With that much enthusiasm, we’ll be finished in no time at all.’

  ‘Shut up!’ barked Matt, glaring at the cat. ‘I’m in no mood for your stupid jokes. Do you even know what he –’ Matt cut off, fuming again.

  ‘It’s over now,’ said Mystic reassuringly. ‘Whatever memories or future occurrences he managed to gain won’t mean a thing.’ The cat was quiet for a second, thinking to himself. ‘It’s a wonder Vanyir hasn’t learned of this seer yet. Imagine the kind of trouble we’d be in if he had someone so powerful at his control.’

  ‘I don’t want to think about it …’ muttered Matt. ‘I just want to get out of this town.’

  ‘Hang on,’ said Simon quickly, digging in his pockets. ‘We should at least restock on supplies. We don’t know how long we’ll be gone. There’s a shop over there. I’ll just take a look inside and see what we need.’

  Neither Matt nor Mystic was paying much attention to Simon, who slipped into the small building he had called a store. Emma followed him, not wanting to hang around the other two, who were now bickering over something. She pushed back the cloth door and stepped quickly after the youngest Wheeler brother.

  The shop was dark with numerous wooden shelves and cabinets. Food mostly occupied their surfaces, but near the far back, where banners of different coloured dragons hung from the walls, was a table that held many various objects. Emma stopped in front of this particular layout of strange items – keeping Simon in the corner of her eye – and looked around.

  There were knives of course: curved blades, short blades, long blades, and the whole works. There were strangely shaped bottles and flasks too. Jewellery covered a section of the table, a lace cloth sitting underneath the finely crafted items. A red and blue sphere sat side by side on one corner of the desk, radiating a faint glow from their shiny surfaces. Then – at the centre of the table – sat a small tooth with a chain strung through a hole at the top. Emma moved her hand down to touch the odd talisman, when another wrinkly hand reached out and grabbed her wrist.

  In a second she pulled away and staggered back from the table, where an old, squatted man now stood. Nearly all of his greyish hair was gone and his wiry beard grew down to his chest. He was clothed in tattered robes.

  ‘Don’t touch the tooth, girl,’ he hissed, his sharp eyes staring holes through her.

  Emma felt a shiver go down her spine and she quickly shook her head. ‘I-I won’t touch it, sir,’ she stammered, backing even farther away. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘This is a tooth of G’zardac, the legendary dragon of old,’ said the elderly man, advancing towards her. He pointed a crooked finger at Emma. ‘Only those worthy enough may touch it!’

  Before Emma could turn to run, Simon stepped between her and the old man, an irritated look on his face.

  ‘Leave her alone, won’t you!’ he said crossly to the strange man, who cringed and shuffled away from Simon.

  ‘A cursed boy,’ he murmured, grabbing at some sort of pendent around his neck. His hand was shaking terribly. ‘A cursed boy in Gunclove … an ill omen … death must be near for me …’

  ‘What are you muttering about!’ demanded Simon, taking a step towards the old man. But he suddenly turned and staggered away, still whispering under his breath of curses and omens.

  ‘What was that all about?’ asked Emma.

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied Simon, annoyed now. He took Emma’s arm and directed her towards the shop exit. ‘Let’s get back to my brother before he makes away with the cat and sets out by himself.’

  They left the strange shop behind, Simon now with a full backpack of new supplies for their travels, and half-walked, half-ran to the entrance of Gunclove. They slipped so silently past the guard outside that he did not notice them until they were out of reach of his slim sword. Matt and Mystic were halfway back to where they had hid the dragons before the two caught up with them.

  ‘I don’t like Gunclove,’ announced Simon. ‘The people here are crazy.’

  ‘Forget it,’ said Matt. His temper seemed to have cooled down somewhat. Whether Mystic had helped or not, Emma deemed it very unlikely.

  It did not take long to reach the cluster of trees. Simon worried about Redfyre, but Emma told him not to fret. As far as she knew, Dragons were highly capable of taking care of themselves. According to Mystic, they were the most intelligent creatures to walk the planet.

  ‘Stop,’ the cat suddenly ordered.

  They halted at his command, while he stepped a few more paces forward, circled around and then paused by Matt’s feet.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Simon, looking fearfully towards the group of trees. ‘Is Red all right?’

  ‘I think someone else is waiting there for us,’ murmured Mystic. ‘We should take caution.’

  The brothers took out their swordsticks and released the blades, while Emma walked between them. Mystic led the group, his ears perked for any unusual sound coming from the tiny wooded area. Once they entered, though, their dragons stood at the centre near the tiny oasis of clear water, undoubtedly waiting for their arrival.

  ‘Huh, nothing’s here,’ said Simon, lowering his weapon. He smiled brightly and headed towards his dragon. ‘Bet you’re happy to see me –’

  ‘Simon!’ shouted Matt.

  An auburn coloured dragon burst through the trees at that moment, separating Simon and the dragons from the others. Upon the new dragon sat Flynn, leader of the Dragon Marauders, with his sword drawn and his scarf flying. An azure dragon came next, with the woman Emma had seen in the alleyway sitting upon its back, her dark hair bundled up in layers of cloth. The last dragon to enter was an icy blue colour, and this one belonged to Titus the Seer.

  ‘Ambush,’ growled Mystic. The fur on his back was rising.

  ‘What do you want?’ Matt’s snappy question was directed at the leader of the group, who seemed vaguely interested in exchanging anything more than pleasantries with anyone.

  ‘I heard you were going to the Black Fortress,’ said Flynn. ‘I’m coming too.’

  ‘Says who!’ demanded Simon, Redfyre growling above his head.

  ‘I say.’ Flynn frowned down at the youngest Wheeler brother. ‘If you intend to ask such stupid questions, then I suggest you keep your mouth shut from now on.’

  ‘Don’t talk to my brother like that,’ said Matt brusquely, and Shartaug roared from the other side. ‘If you want to speak to anyone, speak to me.’

  Flynn’s lips curved into a smile. ‘Fine then … what was your name again?’

  ‘It’s Matt.’ His teeth were gritted.

  ‘Well Matt, we will be coming with you to Vashgal,’ said Flynn, ‘and you will have no say in the matter.’

  ‘Why not bring your whole team?’ said Matt. ‘If you really have a powerful group of thieves, that is,’ he added quickly.

  ‘Less nu
mbers means less to worry about,’ replied Flynn sharply. ‘Besides, wouldn’t someone notice a group so large sneaking into Vashgal? It would be openly declaring war, and that’s not something I’m ready – or will ever be ready – to do.’

  He inclined his head towards the girl on the azure dragon. ‘This is Lanai,’ he introduced, and then looked to his guard, ‘and you have already met Titus.’

  ‘Yes,’ murmured Mystic, ‘the soothsayer was the one who started this.’

  Flynn grinned down at the cat. ‘And you’re my primary interest,’ he said. ‘I can’t wait to figure out what you really are. Something so strange might catch an incredibly high price on the markets.’

  ‘And your head might catch an incredibly high price with Vanyir too,’ snarled Mystic. ‘I’m sure he’d love to sit down and have tea with the leader of a famous thieving gang. I can’t wait until you ride up into the dead city of dragons with that eye-catching red mane of yours.’

  Flynn narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re just a stupid animal. You couldn’t possibly understand the dangers of Vashgal.’

  ‘Oh, on the contrary,’ said Mystic, his voice taking on a silky quality, ‘I have been to Vashgal many times before.’

  ~ Chapter Fifteen ~

  Mystic’s Plight

  After half of day of avoiding the seer’s gaze, trying to stay on Flynn’s good side, and constantly feeling watched by the twin-blade girl, Emma was beginning to loathe their new company. The trip was awkward at first, with many bitter arguments tossed around from Flynn, Mystic and Matt. For once, Emma was glad that the racer and cat were not fighting amongst themselves. They had found a new alliance with each other when Flynn and his group had shown up, and Emma hoped that this agreement would last for the remainder of the journey, however long that was to be. But then the travellers grew tired of fighting and a silence more annoying than shouting pursued … right up until the sand storm started.

  The seven of them – and their dragons – were huddled underneath a wide, slanted rock thrust out from the sandy floor of the desert. The ground below was as hard as the roof above them, but quickly filled with sand until the dragons lay out around the edges of the cave, blocking the wind from coming in. The storm lasted far into the day, until Flynn’s temper grew about as red as his hair.

  ‘Would you cut that out?’ he snapped, aiming his words at Matt and Simon, who were busy showing Emma how to disarm a weapon out of someone’s hands. ‘I’m trying to think.’

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ said Matt, and purposely threw his swordstick to the back of the cave, where it made such a clatter that Flynn glared heatedly towards him. He sauntered over to where his weapon had fallen and sat down, twirling it through his fingers to amuse himself.

  Simon sighed – seeing that the game was now over – and sat beside Emma. Mystic was curled up next to her, sound asleep and oblivious to everything happening in the spacious cave.

  ‘Wouldn’t want to put up with him forever,’ whispered Simon to Emma, his eyes locked on the brooding Flynn. He and his two companions were on the other side of the cave. ‘Of course, one of us would probably be killed before too long …’

  Emma smiled. ‘I doubt he’s always like that,’ she said quietly. ‘I’d say having his sister trapped up in the Black Fortress has ruined his mood.’

  Simon was unconvinced, as his mind was set on believing that all leaders of thieving groups were utterly temperamental, and then used Zyreph as an example.

  ‘I wonder what his future is,’ continued Simon quietly, glancing at Flynn quickly and then away again. ‘Titus said that Flynn never made eye contact with him after figuring out what he was.’

  Emma shrugged, and then remembered what Titus had said about Matt. She glanced at the eldest brother – still sat in the back and toying with his swordstick, a bored expression on his face – and then turned to Simon. ‘What did Titus mean when he called Matt Matthias?’ she asked. ‘Is that his real name?’

  Simon shifted uncomfortably and then suddenly started picking at the strap on his riding glove. ‘Well it’s not something we talk about … I mean, it’s not like it’s important or anything. Matt doesn’t mention it at all …’ he rambled.

  ‘Mention what?’ enquired Emma.

  ‘Well,’ said Simon, starting with that selected word again, ‘Matt was named after the famous dragon racer, Mirthias Wheeler.’

  ‘And?’ Emma could not see why that was such a big deal.

  ‘He didn’t like being named after him,’ said Simon quietly. ‘You see … Mirthias was –’

  ‘A Dragon Slayer, right?’ finished Emma quickly, remembering her little vision.

  Simon looked completely surprised. ‘Y-yeah,’ he stammered, ‘that’s right. How - how did you know about that?’

  Then there was a moment where a blank look travelled across Simon’s face, and Emma wondered if he was trying to wrack his brains to figure out if he was the one who had told her about Mirth.

  ‘Mystic might have mentioned it,’ said Emma, eager to draw Simon away from his suspicions. ‘So why did Mirthias become a Dragon Slayer? It doesn’t make much sense to me.’

  Simon shrugged and – with his finger – drew a stick-dragon into the light layer of sand on the rocky floor. ‘I don’t know,’ he murmured. ‘Might have been something to do with losing …’

  ‘But it’s just a race,’ pointed out Emma, watching Simon add a skinny rider to his picture. ‘Why would he get so upset? It’s almost as if he’s taking his revenge out on the other dragons because his own couldn’t win a stupid race for him.’

  She imagined the good-humoured voice of Mirth in her head and the way he talked with Lucian. He did not seem like a spiteful person. If anything ... he was good.

  ‘Like I told you,’ said Simon, erasing the picture with a sweep of his hand, ‘I don’t know.’

  Almost an hour had passed before Flynn stood up to check on the sand storm. He thus concluded that it had died down enough for them to continue with their journey – and discontinue any bad manners they had previously shown in his company. Matt did a lot of grumbling under his breath, and holding a weapon in his left hand did nothing to soothe his raging mood. Mystic did not look much happier about the situation, as his eyes continued to grow darker as the day went on. Even Simon, who usually found some way to cheer himself up, had a sour look on his face after another while of walking (the sand was too soft to ride on their dragons) through the grim desert.

  Emma trotted along beside Simon; her sweater was tied around her waist now, as the desert heat was becoming excruciating once again, and she kept her mind occupied with thoughts of her father. She did not know how long the trip would take, or even if she would come home at all, but she had to believe that he was safe … safe and sound back in Emburn. She could almost imagine what the papers would say once the police declared her vanished from the face of the earth.

  And how her father would cope with that conclusion.

  Nicolas Shuster – for the first time in the twenty years he had run the old library – closed the building down when he caught word of what rumours were spreading throughout the streets of Emburn. Without giving a reason to anyone, he ushered what visitors the library had outside and locked the place up, shakily pocketing the keys. The paperboy was usually just around the corner of the library around this time of day, but Nick was determined to wait for the kid if he was not there. Luckily, the grumpy high school student trying to earn an extra dollar or two was right on schedule, and Nick bought a newspaper the moment the red bike came to a halt on the edge of the sidewalk. He unfolded the black and white printed paper as he walked back to the comfort of his library, but he had gotten no farther than the outer white steps when his eyes boggled down at the headline.

  EMBURN DAILY NEWS

  MISSING PERSONS REPORT

  It has been declared on May 3rd that a local girl by the name of Emmaline Reeve – Emma, as most know her – has gone missing. The details of this investigation are still sketchy, as p
olice are puzzled over the crime scene. Sixteen year-old Emma had been reported walking away from the Corner Street High School around dinnertime that day, carrying her school bag and coat, indicating that she was on her way home. Another eyewitness stated that he had seen her running from her house, chasing what appeared to be her cat, before turning down Poplar Lane. This was the last sighting.

  Later that same day, Lucas Reeve – father of Emmaline Reeve – had placed a call to the Emburn Police Station, but had not reported anything to be wrong. The next morning, a silver Toyota was seen streaking down Poplar Lane. A woman out running – recognizing the car as her neighbour’s – was curious of where this car was headed so early and speedily in the morning. Mrs. Delmont found the car abandoned in the middle of East Street and was surprised to see it unlocked.

  ‘Lucas Reeve has been my neighbour for sixteen years,’ she told me while we were both sitting down at the police station, ‘and he takes extra care to lock his doors and windows every night. That man is more cautious than the officials when it comes down to it. When I saw his car deserted with the driver’s door opened, I instantly knew something was wrong, and so I ran straight down to the police station.’

  An officer headed over to the Reeve’s house and discovered it to be deserted. Signs of a possible struggle and break-in were evident. The house was declared a primary crime scene and officials have taped off the area.

  Police are still on the case of the missing father and daughter, as neither had returned the following day, and are trying to get in touch with relatives. If any readers out there have any info related to the disappearances of Lucas and Emmaline Reeve, please feel free to drop by the Emburn Police Station. Any help at this time would be greatly appreciated.

  ~ Writer, Don Grey