The Secret World of Dragons

by Sandra Harvey

  The phone in the hall suddenly started to ring. Emma did not automatically run towards it. She was still in shock. But she slowly made her way down the hall like a sleepwalker towards the sound. Mystic was at her heels, hissing words of warning at her.

  ‘Don’t pick it up!’ he growled. ‘It could be one of them!’

  Emma hit the speaker button.

  ‘Hello? Emma? Are you home?’

  ‘Hi, dad,’ she replied faintly.

  ‘Oh, good.’ She heard her father sigh. ‘Why are you home from school? Are you feeling all right?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Emma. ‘I just felt a little sick this morning, so I walked home.’

  ‘All right, that’s fine.’ He seemed distressed. ‘Did you get my message earlier?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I thought it didn’t go through, so I tried calling again, hoping I’d reach you …’

  ‘But I would have been in school.’ Emma could not disguise the surprise in her voice.

  ‘Well yes, of course you would have been …’ her father trailed off, and she heard papers shuffling. ‘Listen, sweetheart, just stay where you are. Call one of your friends when they get out of school. I’ll be home later, all right?’

  ‘Dad, I said I was fine,’ murmured Emma, now leaning her head against the wall. A sickening feeling was leaking into her stomach with every word.

  ‘Yes, but you might … you might be lonely by yourself,’ continued her father. He sighed on the other line, and the sound of rumpling papers ceased. ‘Just be careful, okay?’

  The doorbell sounded just a few metres down the hall. Emma jumped and turned her head sharply towards the porch. The curtains were pulled across the window, but she could faintly see a shadowy figure outside.

  Her heart hammered in her ears.

  ‘Emmaline?’ Her father’s voice was stern. ‘Emmaline?’

  ‘I’m here,’ she answered quickly, her voice returning.

  She felt Mystic tugging at her jeans with his teeth.

  ‘Who was at the door?’ her father asked anxiously.

  ‘Just one of those … random salespeople,’ Emma lied. ‘I – I have to go now, dad. I’ll see you tonight, okay? I love you.’

  ‘Emmaline –’

  She hit the speaker button again, cutting her father’s voice sharply off. Tears welled up inside her eyes as she stared at the phone, wishing that he was here standing beside her. He would know what to do. He always knew.

  The doorbell rang again, and the handle started rattling.

  ‘Come on!’ hissed Mystic, pulling roughly at her ankles now. ‘Do you like the idea of dying in your own house? They’re already here!’

  Emma gulped down a surge of fear and headed slowly towards the doorway. She heard the cat hissing and sneering as she walked.

  ‘Where are you going, stupid girl?’ he half-whispered, but did not dare to chase her.

  She glanced out the window in the doorway and still saw the dark figure standing outside. He was staring at her, completely covered in black clothes, just the slits of his eyes staring out through the dark cloth that was wrapped around his face.

  ‘Come here!’ Mystic’s voice was demanding.

  Emma quickly slid on her sneakers, not giving the figure outside the door another glance. Her heart was pounding now, beating so loudly that she thought the thing waiting outside would even hear it. She hurried after Mystic, who had taken off towards the kitchen again, and followed him straight to the patio doors.

  ‘What was that?’ she asked frantically, as she slid open their escape route.

  ‘A Dark Rider,’ answered Mystic quickly, jumping out onto the oak bridge. He sniffed the air once before darting across the backyard. ‘Quickly! Follow me!’

  They were running fast, their feet barely hitting the ground long enough before another step was taken. Emma glanced back – only once – to see the sliding doors shift open once more. Then her heart was pounding again, and she had to focus her sight on Mystic to keep from panicking. They were dodging people – who gave them reproachful looks – light poles, and even the occasional car. She had no clue as to where he was guiding her, but she knew that they had to get away from here. There was just this feeling in her heart that told her they were in terrible danger.

  There was no going back. She knew that now. She knew that ever since she decided to go into that room. It had been her first mistake, and probably not her last. From now on, she would never know where this adventure would take her.

  At least I’ll have something to write about, she thought grimly.

  Without warning, Mystic shot directly into an alleyway. Emma faltered, almost tripped, and then picked up her speed once again. She followed him down the unfamiliar territory, letting her eyes drift to every corner of the eerie place. Garbage littered the cracked roads, where mice scurried into tiny holes to the sewers below. Emma did not know much about places like these, but it was whispered in school that gangs hung out here. Not just the common street rats, either. They were dangerous people.

  Why was Mystic leading her away one danger, only to bring her to another? Was he trying to get her killed?

  ‘Where are we going?’ she called. Her voice revealed how tired she was.

  ‘Not too much farther,’ the cat replied.

  And it was true. The tabby took another turn and darted into a gloomier alley before he came to a sudden halt. Emma slowed down beside him, her legs worn and exhausted. She dropped to her knees, panting and trying to catch her breath. The cat, however, seemed to be fine, which completely annoyed her.

  ‘Where are we?’ she asked, once her breath had filled her lungs again. ‘Are we here?’

  ‘Not yet, you silly girl,’ answered Mystic, as he inspected the alley while sniffing.

  Emma sighed and stood back up, ready for more running. She glanced to her left to see an old building, the windows boarded up and the siding falling off. It was just as dull as any other rundown house here, but there was just some sort of aura surrounding it that drew Emma closer. She pressed her hands against the boards and peered inside.

  Nothing. It was empty, and completely gloomy. There was a popcorn stall on the floor, the glass shattered and cups spread everywhere, some crushed into tiny balls. A vacant counter stood near the back. Old and ripped posters hung behind it. The floor was charred, as though a fire had swept through the building.

  A movie theatre.

  ‘It seems our follower has gotten lost,’ said Mystic smugly, wandering over to where Emma was standing. He sat in front of the old door. ‘Shall we go inside?’

  She blinked stupidly at the cat. ‘Inside where? There’s nothing inside this building but ruin and rubble.’

  The cat chuckled, a rather human-like sound. ‘That’s only what you see, what you are made to believe. But beyond the door lies other wonders … things only of the imagination.’

  ‘Then this is really all made-up?’ asked Emma.

  The cat looked up at her. ‘Did I say that?’ he mused. ‘Well, perhaps it is. Perhaps I’m not real and you led yourself out into this alley. Is that it?’

  Emma scowled down at him. ‘Fine, be that way,’ she snapped.

  The cat chuckled again, and then rapped on the door of the old theatre with his paw. ‘Oh, and put that necklace out of sight. People will notice.’

  Emma did as she was told and hid the stone underneath the fabric of her dark sweater.

  ‘What’s taking him?’ Mystic wondered aloud, and rapped again on the door.

  They waited a few more moments, before finally hearing a metal chain slide across. The door swung open, revealing a short, podgy man with slick, coal-black hair leaning on a walking cane. His large glasses slid down his nose and he pushed them back up, inspecting Emma as though she was a piece of meat at a grocery store.

  ‘Well,’ said Mystic impatiently, ‘are you going to let us in or not?’

  The man grumbled something illegible and then moved away from the open doorway, allo
wing them access. A burst of heat hit Emma’s face as she entered the room. It certainly never gave the air of an old, rundown theatre anymore. It was bursting with life now.

  The lights above were dim, glowing faintly red, but she could see clearly enough. A bar was on the right side of the room, and a wide archway on the left. Many people – like the kind you would see in pirate movies or old western shows – were seated around circular tables laughing, eating, drinking, and talking loudly amongst themselves.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you back here so soon,’ said the man who had opened the door for them. His voice was very gruff.

  Mystic did not have to lift his head very high to see this man’s face. He was much shorter than Emma was. ‘I ran into a bit of trouble, nothing more,’ replied the tabby.

  ‘Hmm … is that so?’ The man seemed curious, and he showed his toothless smile. ‘What sort of trouble, I wonder?’

  ‘Nothing for you to gossip about, Pilmer,’ snapped Mystic. ‘Now get out of my face.’

  Pilmer muttered a few words under his breath and then stormed away. His head was slightly turned though, his eyes still fixed on Emma. She twisted her body slightly, trying to become less seen, but already the majority of the people here were looking at her with inquisitive eyes. They knew she was not a regular. They knew she was an outsider.

  ‘Come along, Emma,’ said Mystic quietly. She could barely hear him above all the noise. ‘Don’t talk to anyone. Keep to yourself.’

  They made their way through the motley crowd. Emma kept her eyes down at the floor and away from all their stares. She felt her cheeks burning, and when her arm was grabbed, she shrieked and recoiled away, bumping into someone else.

  ‘Watch it, girl!’ growled a bulky, bald man with a mug of overflowing drink in his hand. He grunted and headed off towards the bar.

  Another large figure, a man sitting to a table with a tattoo of entwined snakes running up his arm, slammed down his drink and glared up at her. She stood there, confused and frightened. He was the one who had grabbed her arm.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing here?’ he grunted, and then turned to look at the cat. ‘Ripley’s messenger, I see. This is your doing, then. Bringing an outsider into Dragonis … you know the rules.’

  ‘Of course I know them,’ said the tabby boldly. ‘You have just stated that I am, in fact, Ripley’s messenger.’

  The ruffian snorted. ‘Then why are you bringing outsiders in? Do you want the city’s council on your tail?’

  Mystic growled suddenly and jumped up onto the table, frightening a few of the hoodlums, and they spilled their drinks onto their laps.

  ‘Listen here!’ said Mystic sharply, his violet eyes flashing from light to dark. ‘You say one more word about anything, and I’ll rip your tongue out! Professor Ripley would not like it if he heard trash like you were spreading news to the outside world about us!’

  ‘Me spreading news?’ snapped the tattooed ruffian. ‘You’re the one bringing those outsiders into our world!’

  Mystic disclosed his teeth, the fur on his back and tail rising slightly, and his eyes glowing ever so faintly. ‘You had better watch what you’re saying,’ he warned. His voice had dropped to a frightening level, which made even Emma’s hair stand on end. ‘Be careful, vagrant scum … or I’ll lead the Black Fortress trash through here next time.’

  That had paled the ruffian. He placed his drink shakily on the table and turned away from the cat, afraid to look at him anymore.

  ‘Come, Emma,’ said Mystic, slowly turning his gaze to her. ‘We must go, now.’

  They both headed towards the large archway. As they passed under it towards the shady set of stairs, Emma could not help but notice the detailed carvings covering the wood. It got darker as they descended, and the walls of stone turned into a deep blue colour. At the very end of the tunnel-like passage stood a tall, steel door that looked very similar to an elevator. Emma stared closely at it for a second or two, and then noticed that the surface seemed to move.

  ‘Mystic!’ she whispered urgently. ‘The door, it –’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ murmured the cat, rather annoyed. ‘It’s a magical door. I know all about it. Now come. We must walk through it.’

  Emma stared blankly down at the cat. Walk through it? As in, not opening, but just walking through?

  The cat did not wait for a reply. He soundlessly stepped from the tunnel and vanished beyond the rippling doorway. Emma held back, afraid of where Mystic had gone, of which world, time, or planet he had wandered into when stepping past the wall.

  ‘Dragonis,’ she heard herself whisper into the dark.

  The eerie gleam that radiated from the door sent shivers up her spine. What was waiting beyond it? A world full of creatures that only existed in her mind … perhaps castles with kings and knights … or maybe it was like this world, only with talking cats.

  With a deep breath, Emma let go of that last bit of fear she still clung onto, and plunged herself through the glistening door, which – in the real world – would never have let her pass through. But this was not the real world anymore. This was the world where nothing made sense any longer. This was a world where things happened beyond your control or imagination. She was now lost in this world, out of reach from her father, and somewhere deep within her heart, she had a feeling that it would be a long time before she saw him again.

  ~ Chapter Three ~

  Missing

  At first there was just a blinding light. It was not the same kind of light that emanated from the sun, for it had a bluish shine that was in no amount normal. No, this light was far different and far stranger than anything Emma had ever seen. It was the light of another world, a light one sees when one steps from the place they knew all their life, to a completely extraordinary other place. It was that sort of light.

  When Emma’s eyes adjusted to the brightness, it instantly died down just as quick and left her standing in a more shadowed environment. The area she was in was as long and wide as a football field, and the walls and roof were made entirely of blue metal. Despite the look of the place (for it looked very futuristic), it felt incredibly old and full of memories of a time long gone.

  Benches were scattered here and there, food stand as well, though there weren’t any people minding them. Papers blew freely across the blue-brick ground, swirled up into the air past her face, and she caught a glimpse of the black and white text written upon the articles.

  She reached out to catch one of the old papers, but her hand slowly lowered as the sheets flew by, revealing a sight beyond that stilled Emma’s heart. Something far stranger than magic doorways and dangerous stones caught her attention.

  Her eyes were on the massive creatures that strolled about the room. They were creatures she had never expected to come to life. She had seen them before, of course, on the pages of fairy tale stories and on television shows. They were in video games and movies. They were painted and drawn, famous in China and popular fantasies in the West. Though, for no reason explainable could they be real and standing right in front of her.

  No. There was no possible explanation for the existence of dragons.

  Larger than horses, covered from head to toe in brilliant, shining scales, with two wings the size of a car, and long, slim tails. They were many colours, travelling from red to blue to green. Their eyes were glossy and deep, like all the wisdom of the world was stored within. They had sharp, curved claws, and some had horns, spiralling or straight. Pointed teeth edged their way over the bottom lip of a few, battle scars showed on the bare flesh of others.

  Emma could not stop staring. She had just wandered into the secret world of dragons, and it was supposed to be safer than the other world. My world, she quickly corrected herself.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ questioned Mystic, as he looked up at her. ‘Have you never seen a dragon before?’ He paused, thinking. ‘Oh … right. You haven’t.’

  ‘No, I haven’t.’ The words were distant on her tongue.


  ‘Well, I guess we can call it a new and exciting experience for you,’ said the tabby. ‘Now come along, girl. We have someone to meet.’

  ‘Who?’ Her voice had not yet returned to its full volume. She was still gazing at the dragons – beautiful, but possibly dangerous – and their riders. Yes, there were people here too, and they controlled the dragons, or so it looked that way to her. They all had different coloured suits on to match their dragons.

  ‘Professor Ripley,’ answered Mystic, a bit of annoyance leaking into his voice. ‘He’s the mayor of Dwenin – the capital city – and he also runs the riding school. He is known as a man of great importance in Dragonis. I suggest you show a respectful tongue when we arrive there.’

  ‘Sure,’ murmured Emma, still glancing fretfully around. She was not entirely comfortable with the idea of those overly large and unfamiliar creatures walking casually around the station. They were probably at that town too, and everywhere else, for that matter. How could this world be so unnoticeable that no one had ever stumbled upon it?

  ‘Are you even listening to me?’ The cat seemed impatient. ‘We have to go now, before those Dark Riders catch up to us again.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Emma, snapping back to reality. ‘Let’s go.’

  Mystic led her past all the colourful dragons and towards the center of the enormous room, where a train tracked seemed to once have been part of the ground. Now there was simply just a wide hollow at either side of the place, both exits leading into darkness, and a short stairway at the middle that led up to nothingness.

  ‘I don’t … understand,’ said Emma slowly, shaking her head. ‘What exactly are we waiting for?’

  Mystic nodded at a few people who were gathered near the stairway. ‘We’re waiting for the same thing they are: our ride.’

  A sinking feeling crept its way into Emma’s stomach. Of course she knew what she was waiting for: a dragon. What else could it be?

  ‘I – I’m not so sure about this,’ she stammered. ‘Why can’t we just walk?’