The Dragon Stone

by Paul Summerhayes

  Drying her black hair with a towel, Ryver walked into the kitchen. The wall clock said 08:03. She’s not home yet, she thought.

  With the towel still draped around her thin shoulders like a prized boxer, Ryver sat at the kitchen table. She removed the necklace from her neck and turned the stone over in her hands, examining its smooth surface. The strange symbol was not visible.

  “How odd,” she said.

  Meow.

  Brutus raised his head and regarded her from their worn floral couch. The couch was his bed when he was at home, which wasn’t too often these days. She suspected he had a lady-friend, who was more important than his two human owners.

  “You sense it too, don’t you, boy?”

  Meow.

  Ryver placed the necklace over her head and tucked the black pendant inside her sweater. It felt cool against her skin—the way a non-magical necklace should.

  In the shower, she decided it was smart to lay low for a while. The Devils knew she had the necklace, but for now, they didn’t know who she was or where she lived and she aimed to keep it that way. The troubling thing was how her parents had possession of the jewelry box’s key. Her father had been dead for years, so unless her mother put the key in the drawer, it must have been there for some time.

  08:14.

  If the black stone is my father’s, why did the 9th Street Devils have it? Is there a tie between him and the Devils? Maybe Liam is right, maybe he worked for them… No! He couldn’t.

  08:18.

  She’s late.

  Ryver moved to the window. The street below looked as it always did, cars passed by and there were several people walking along the sidewalk. It looked like a normal evening, and there was no sign of the watcher.

  While she watched, a black sedan pulled up in front of her apartment. It was the Devils’ car. Ryver sucked in a breath. The front passenger side door opened and Bull stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  “Shit!”

  The big man swung open the rear car door and leant his bulky frame in to assist someone getting out. It was her mother!

  “No!”

  The big man spoke down to the cowed woman, who looked tiny beside him. After a moment, Jessica turned away from the brute and with her head down, she walked toward their building.

  Suddenly, Bull glanced up and for a moment Ryver thought he was looking at her—surprised, she took half a step back from the window. A moment later, the thug got back into the car and it sped away, its tires screeching. Her mother slowly climbed the stairs and vanished inside their building.

  Ryver ran to the apartment door, throwing it open, before sprinting along the corridor to the stairwell. In her haste, she took the stairs several at a time until she reached the foyer. Jessica slouched against the wall, smiling weakly at her daughter’s approach—a bruise visible at the corner of her mouth.

  “What have they done to you?” asked Ryver, tears welling up in her eyes. She gently touched her mother’s face.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “They’ll pay for this!” Ryver could feel the tension building in her body as her anger grew. Her fingertips tingled—since puberty, this was how it felt when her magic started to flow.

  “No! Stop.” Jessica grabbed her daughter’s arm. “It’s not worth it, darling. They said they’ll leave us alone, they just want their Dragon Stone back.”

  Dragon Stone?

  Ryver looked into her mother’s eyes and saw her anguish. It was plain, Jessica feared for her daughter’s safety and didn’t want her involved with magic—she never did. Jessica was a normal and didn’t understand the lure and addictive feeling of magic—and she never would.

  “I don’t have…their Dragon Stone.” It’s not theirs!

  Jessica looked relieved, putting her arm around her daughter. “Let’s go upstairs and have a chat.”

  They know who I am and where I live…I’m screwed.

  Ryver stared at the dragon stone lying on the kitchen table. It was morning and she was alone in their apartment. Her mother had gone to work as usual, even though Ryver had pleaded with her to stay at home today—but they needed the money. Jessica didn’t want her daughter involved with magic, she wanted Ryver to be like everyone else. She made Ryver promise to go to school and being a good daughter, Ryver lied and said she would.

  Last night, they spoke for hours. It was the longest conversation they’d had for some time. Jessica’s fear was plain—magic would get Ryver killed like it did her father. How he died, she wouldn’t say. Magic is not meant for ordinary people like them, her mom always said. Did it kill Grandma Lillian? Ryver asked, but Jessica didn’t want to discuss it any further and they both had gone to bed.

  Ryver couldn’t sleep as she wrestled with many unanswered questions. What, if any, is the relationship of her father’s death and this Dragon Stone? Eventually, she drifted into a restless sleep with her questions still unanswered.

  Ryver glanced over at the black cat, watching from the couch. “What would you do, Brutus?”

  Meow.

  “You’re right. I should give the stone back. I can protect myself…but keeping it will get Mom killed.”

  Ryver put the necklace around her neck and tucked the Dragon Stone inside her sweater. She wasn’t sure if this was the smartest idea, but she had to know what all this had to do with her family.

  A little bit of snooping won’t hurt, she reasoned. Besides, I can always give the stone back tomorrow.

  With only a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed a baseball cap and jacket and headed for the front door. Brutus sat in front of the door, looking up at her with unblinking eyes.

  “What?”

  The cat remained silent.

  “I know, I know. I’ll be careful.” Ryver reached over the cat and opened the door, forcing him to move. With his tail held straight up, Brutus walked proudly out of the apartment in front of her.

  Crazy cat, thought Ryver, shaking her head.

  Ryver needed back up if she was going to spy on the Devils. She couldn’t involve any adults or the police—they would never believe a story about magic anyway. Heading across the city a few blocks, she made for the abandoned building, where she hoped Liam was. He was only a kid, but he was the only friend she had.

  I wish Grandma was here, she’d know what to do. Probably fry these gang bangers’ balls for starters.

  But Grandma Lillian was gone, vanished only months after her father’s untimely death—her mother said she died from a heart attack in South America. Ryver always suspected her grandma’s disappearance and her father’s death were related somehow. Besides, Lillian was only in her sixties and in perfect health, the heart attack story couldn’t be true. No, Ryver believed she was alive and hoped one day she would reappear.

  I bet this Dragon Stone is involved…

  Deep in thought, Ryver rounded a corner and walked straight into someone coming the other way. She bounced back and would have slipped over, except for a strong hand that caught her arm, holding her upright.

  “I’m sorry,” she sputtered, standing straight and feeling embarrassed. “It’s my fault.”

  “Yes it was,” said a man in a black leather coat, releasing her arm. He was tall, well over six feet, clean shaven, lean and athletic. He smiled, showing off his straight white teeth. He was in his late twenties and Ryver found him handsome, but not in a movie star’s way, he was more like a likeable rogue. “You should be more careful, miss,” he said, his voice deep. “These streets are dangerous.”

  “Sorry.” Pulling down her cap, she stepped around him and continued on her way.

  “And give my regards to Old Jack when you see him.”

  Ryver stopped cold and spun around to see the man walking briskly away.

  What? What did he say?

  The tall man kept walking until he reached a drugstore, where upon opening the door he paused and glanced directly at her, then grinned and disappeared inside.

  Who is he? And what does he know about Ja
ck?

  She took several steps down the street after him and stopped. Something didn’t feel right, it felt like a trap.

  “Shit!”

  Against her better judgment, she hurried down the street, resisting the urge to break into a run. At the drugstore’s door, she hesitated for moment before throwing it open and entering. She moved quickly along each aisle, looking desperately for the stranger. It hadn’t occurred to her what she would say when she found him.

  The store was empty except for a teenaged cashier and two middle-aged women shopping together. The man had vanished.

  Where’d he go?

  The two women didn’t look up from their shopping and the cashier barely noticed her. Checking the aisles again had the same result, he was gone. But where? The only door she could see was marked ‘Staff Only’ and she would have to pass the cashier to have a look. She didn’t think she would get a warm response if she asked to have a poke around their storeroom.

  Puzzled, Ryver went back out onto the street. She looked in both directions, but there was no sign of the man. He had vanished.

  Jack!

  Ryver weaved past the pedestrians as she hurried along the street with more urgency than before. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Was the stranger giving her a warning? It could only have something to do with the Devils and the Dragon Stone. She hoped she was wrong—but her gut told her she wasn’t.

  CHAPTER 5

  Breathing heavily, Ryver slowed down as she reached the abandoned building Old Jack called home. She looked down the basement stairs to his makeshift shelter. He wasn’t there. His little trolley and bags of his treasures were, but he wasn’t. Slowing her breathing, she quickly surveyed the street, but the old man’s familiar bent shape was nowhere to be seen.

  Where are you?

  Her heart thumped loudly as she made her way through the crumbling front of the building, heading toward the collapsed stairwell. She feared for the old man and hoped Liam was on the fourth floor and knew where he was.

  “Arrr…” The sound came from a pile of debris stacked against a wall.

  “Jack?” Ryver rushed over. There were dirty boots sticking out from beneath the rubble. Fearing what she would find, Ryver carefully removed a sheet of plaster board propped against the wall. She went cold, Old Jack lay on his side. Dry blood stained his chin and busted lips, and both his eyes were closed. One was bruised and swollen. Someone had beaten him severely.

  “Are you…all right?” She knelt beside him and placed a hand softly to his throat, feeling for his pulse like she’d been taught at school.

  “I-I’m not dead.” He coughed, wincing with pain. “Yet.”

  “Who did this?”

  “It was the Devils…they want me to give you a message.” He stopped to catch his breath. “They want it back.”

  “Oh, Jack. I’m sorry.” Her eyes were wet with tears. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

  Ryver wasn’t sure how hurt Jack was—she had no experience with this sort of thing. He needs help…paramedics. She moved to stand, but the man’s old weathered hand grabbed her forearm with surprising strength.

  “They have…the boy,” he said softly.

  “What? Liam?”

  “They said…bring the stone before sun down…or the b-boy…dies.”

  Old Jack fell silent, his face displaying pain. Ryver held his rough hand and smoothed out his thin hair. “Hold on, Jack, I’ll get help. I’ll be back soon.”

  Ryver left the old man lying in the dust and debris and ran out of the building and along the street. Tears blurred her vision as she ran up to a couple, asking for help. How they understood her through her sobs she didn’t know, but they saw her distress and handed her their phone.

  It was late afternoon when Ryver found herself across the road from the Devils’ clubhouse, the Yellow Parrot bar. Standing in the shadow of a building, she watched the comings and goings for more than an hour. The upstairs night club wasn’t opened yet, but the street level bar was, and it got busier as the afternoon wore on.

  Ryver had a problem—she was only seventeen and didn’t look a day older. There was no way she could walk in and have a look around without raising suspicion. She hoped she could sneak in and rescue Liam without handing over the Dragon Stone. It was risky and unlikely, but she was reluctant to hand over her father’s property. She felt an odd connection with the stone, as though it somehow tied her with her dead father. Whatever happened, she wasn’t prepared to put Liam in any jeopardy. Nothing was worth that, not even the stone.

  As she watched, a heavily tattooed woman wearing a white t-shirt at least one size too small entered the bar. A few minutes later, she left carrying a backpack. Ryver knew her by sight. She was Haley Hildebrandt, well-known to every high school kid as a drug dealer and in this neighborhood, she was known as ‘One More Hit’ Haley. No doubt she was picking up a load of poison for the local kids. The woman had a reputation as someone not to be messed with and like Ryver, most school kids knew to avoid her.

  The appearance of this drug dealer got Ryver thinking. Maybe she could pose as one of Haley’s drug mules. It was a long shot and one that just might get her killed, but she couldn’t think of any other way of gaining entry into the bar—any way she didn’t end up dead.

  Ryver shrugged, this wasn’t Liam’s fight and the afternoon was almost spent. She had until sundown to give back the Dragon Stone. Checking her watch, she had less than two hours. It was now or never.

  Cursing quietly, Ryver walked across the road toward the bar. She stopped in front of the door and looked at it with apprehension, trying to control her breathing and her fear, willing herself to enter. The sudden urge to pee threatened to overcome her, eroding her resolve even more. She now doubted she could go through with her crazy plan.

  “Out of the way, kid,” said a deep voice. A strong hand pushed her roughly aside. It was Bull, he strolled past her and entered the bar without a second look, closely followed by two more Devils. None of them recognized her.

  Shit!

  Her nerves got the better of her and she walked slowly down East Street and away from the bar’s entrance. After a dozen yards, she stopped and let out a ragged breath. No one had followed her.

  Ryver felt ashamed. Liam needed her. I have to go back. They can’t kill me…I’m just a kid. She didn’t feel confident with her statement. The rumour was the Devils didn’t mess around, killing off most of their opposition in this part of the city. There was no doubt in her mind they would kill anyone to get what they wanted, including two teenagers.

  A truck’s screeching brakes drew her attention. Looking up, she saw an enclosed delivery truck disappear into the alley behind the bar. Curious, she moved to the building’s corner and peeked into the alley. The truck stopped at the bar’s rear entrance and two men climbed out of the cab, opening the back of the truck. It was full of beer kegs.

  A delivery.

  One man moved to the bar’s delivery dock and banged on the roller door a few times. A minute later, the roller door rose revealing Bull. “You’re late,” said the big ganger. “Get that stuff inside ASAP.”

  The two men didn’t say a word, wisely deciding to unload their goods in silence. Bull disappeared inside and one of the other Devils appeared to oversee the two delivery men. They took the beer kegs from the truck and placed them on the raised loading dock floor. After a dozen kegs were stacked, one man closed the back of the truck and locked it before returning to his companion. Together they started carrying the kegs inside.

  It’s now or never.

  Ryver sprinted down the alley to the loading dock, pressing herself up against the wall. The men reappeared and picked up their next load, carrying it inside. Quickly, she climbed onto the dock and peered inside. It was a storage room with one internal door—which was open. The gang member directed the two delivery men to stack the keg with others along a wall. All their backs were to her.

  This is it.

  Wi
th only half a heartbeat’s hesitation, and trying to be as quiet as possible, Ryver quickly crossed the storeroom and darted through the open door. She moved down a short corridor and rounding a corner she stopped, breathing heavily.

  I must be crazy!

  Ryver stood in a narrow corridor lined with several doors and a stairwell leading down into the basement. She guessed the closed door at the far end of the corridor would lead into the bar area. Voices came from an open door on her right—and one of them sounded like Bull’s.

  Creeping up to the doorway, Ryver listened to the conversation. There were at least three people in the room, and one was definitely Bull. There was no mistaking his booming voice.

  “Whose turn is it to take the boss his dinner when he wakes up tonight?” asked Bull.

  “It ain’t me,” said another. “I did it yesterday.”

  “Shit!” said a third man. “It’s my turn.”

  “You’ll be all right,” said Bull. “Just don’t look him in the eye.”

  “Is he still pissed off about that box?”

  “Yeah…it’s best you don’t mention it.” Two of the men started to chuckle.

  “I ain’t gunna say anything!”

  Ryver took a chance and peered into the room. It was a compact kitchen, and it didn’t look clean. Dishes were piled in the sink and there were many items on the benches. One man held open the door to a large fridge and was looking inside for something. Bull and another man sat at a square table which contained cards, a few piles of money and a pistol. All three men wore the Devils’ colors. They were playing cards, and both seated men looked impatiently at their companion at the fridge.

  “Hurry up.”

  Now!

  Ryver quickly moved to the other side of the door, hoping no one saw her. She pressed herself hard against the wall, holding her breath—listening for any indication she had been discovered. Her blood pulsed in her ears making it hard to hear what was being said.

  “Stop stalling, it’s your turn.”

  “Keep your shirt on,” said Bull. “I’m thinking.”