It was peaceful once, back when Mirthias Wheeler used to race.
Simon had told her that story, the story of a rider who won every race he placed himself in. Somehow a rider and a Dragon Slayer did not fit together, though. He never quit racing just to take revenge upon all other dragons, did he? She should have asked Mystic about Mirth last night when they had been alone. It would have been the perfect time. But something told her that she would get more of a story out of Simon than the cat.
There was something else that did not make sense too, something that made everything one hundred times more confusing than ever. Her three companions had told her that Lucian and Vanyir had been good friends, not Lucian and Mirth. Then again, it was possible for the hero to have more than one friend. The real question was: what part did Mirth play in the story?
Voices out in the hallway confirmed that the others were awake, so Emma made her bed and took a quick glance outside before heading to her bathroom. There were no guards hiding on the roofs this morning. It seemed that the Dark Riders had kept their distance from Gunclove and passed by without checking to see if their enemies were even there.
She washed up quickly inside the little room and changed into a blue set of riding clothes that Simon had given her earlier. He had said that it was the suit he wore when he was unable to find red replacement clothes. The pants and shirt were a little baggy, but it was comfortable. She slipped her sweater over her head and then left the bathroom.
‘Morning!’ said Matt, as Emma pushed back the cloth of her doorway. The way he said it made her suspect that the three of them were whispering before she came out. Mystic sat on the windowsill, Simon had his back pressed up against the hallway wall, and Matt stood in the middle of the narrow corridor.
‘Good morning,’ said Emma. The desert air was back to its normal, scorching self and the two brothers had their racing jackets tied around their waists. Their t-shirts – surprisingly enough – were both black. She expected them to wear the same colours as the rest of their outfit – red for Simon and green for Matt. Their names – in white writing – were stitched into the back of the shirts, along with the title Dragon Racer underneath.
‘The inn owner has kindly prepared a dinner for us, on orders of Flynn of course,’ said Mystic smugly.
‘I guess you had quite an influence on him,’ muttered Matt.
‘Not as much as I would have liked, but good enough,’ said Mystic.
‘And where are we going after we leave here?’ asked Emma. ‘Still eastwards towards –’
‘Not here, Emma,’ interrupted Mystic, casting a suspicious eye down the hallway. ‘You don’t know who else may be listening in on our conversation.’
The four of them then proceeded back downstairs into the foyer of the inn. There was an unusual crowd gathered around the front desk and the innkeeper was kept busy greeting them all in turn. Some of the guests were dark-skinned with curved blades at their sides, while others were so bundled up that only the slits of their eyes were visible. A few were taller than the rest with long hair and black headbands.
‘Desert gang,’ whispered Simon to Emma, careful not to catch the eye of any of them. ‘I bet Flynn has no choice but to let them in.’
Emma instinctively put her hand up to the Sapphire Stone, tucked safely underneath her sweater. She was glad she had not left it out for all to see. One glance at the stone and every outcast in the room would be after it.
Mystic manoeuvred through the crowd of wanderers and to the back, where an old, wooden door stood next to the front desk. Matt pushed it open to reveal a whitewashed hallway, candles lit from the entrance to the far side of the other end.
Before Emma could step through with the others, she felt a sharp tug on her hair, dragging her back. She shrieked and reached up to loosen the grip of the rough hands that held her fast. The Wheeler brothers had already pulled out their swordsticks, but half a dozen outcasts jumped in front of the door with raised knives. Mystic slinked through their legs, hurrying to Emma’s aid, but a hand shot down and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. He hissed and growled more wildly than ever before, his eyes turning darker and darker as the seconds flew past. A rough voice spoke behind Emma.
‘What are you hiding?’ he asked, his hands clamping tighter on her hair.
Emma bit back a sob and glanced up to see one of the taller, long-haired outcasts standing behind her. His eyes were dark and his skin had a deep tan. Several knife scars lined the flesh of his face, giving him a sinister impression.
‘I-I’m not hiding anything,’ whispered Emma, her voice crumbling.
‘Are you sure about that?’ questioned the black-haired drifter. He held a short, curved knife up before her eyes, the edges smudged with a darkened colour that Emma could faintly recognize, and Mystic snarled wildly in the grip of a bundled up outcast.
‘Let her go!’ he growled, his voice taking on a nasty edge.
‘Should I kill it, Zyreph?’ The drifter holding Mystic pointed his blade at the cat.
Zyreph leaned past Emma’s shoulder and glared into the creature’s darkening eyes. Mystic snarled as he lurched forward and snapped his jaws near the ruffian’s face.
‘Go ahead,’ said Zyreph harshly, pulling his face away from the sharp teeth of the cat.
‘You should be careful not to anger me,’ warned Mystic quickly, digging his claws into his captor’s wrist. The drifter yelped and released his grip. The cat landed roughly on the floor, its back quivering and his eyes dark and wide.
A sullen feeling swept over Emma when she saw the creature on the floor, but before anything else happened, the grip on her hair loosened. She looked over her shoulder to see the grey-eyed Titus with his hand clamped onto Zyreph’s arm.
‘Is there a problem?’ asked Titus gruffly, his gaze fixed on Zyreph.
‘Hands off,’ growled the outcast, but Titus only tightened his grip. Zyreph freed Emma’s hair, pushing her brutally down to the floor beside the now calm Mystic. He grabbed the scarf around the guard’s neck instead. ‘Shall I kill you too while visiting this miserable town?’
Titus’s stare was impassive. ‘I am going to ask you again. Is there a problem?’
Zyreph growled and held up his bloody knife to Titus’s throat. ‘Don’t play smart with me, boy,’ he threatened. ‘Not unless you want to lose your tongue.’
‘You are standing in the centre of a very dangerous village,’ said Titus calmly. ‘If you do anything wrong, the Dragon Marauders will hunt you for your crimes. Think about this before you shed any blood.’
The leader of the drifters licked his lips, doing exactly what Titus had told him: thinking. He finally let go of the guard’s scarf though, and put away his knife, a deep glare settling on his face.
‘Thank you,’ said Titus, and then his eyes seemed to lock with Zyreph’s again. For a moment, the air surrounding them seemed bitterly cold to Emma and the greyness in Titus’s eyes was paler than ever. His voice lowered and he whispered, ‘A bitter death awaits you on the shores of the snake.’
The outcast became startled and a frightened expression seemed to cross his face. He backed away from Titus, heading quickly towards the doorway of the inn. His group of drifters, alarmed by their leader’s sudden departure, also left the tavern, filing out of the room within seconds. The woman behind the front desk glared at Titus and said, ‘Well, thanks a lot, boy. I just lost my income for a month.’
Titus ignored her and turned to Emma instead, who had managed to get back onto her feet during the strange confrontation. Her heart was pounding with sudden fear. She wondered if anyone else had heard what Titus had just whispered to that outcast.
‘You’re lucky to be alive,’ he said, and then added, ‘All of you are.’ He walked past the four companions towards the door near the back, which had been slammed shut in the commotion. ‘That was Zyreph, a powerful and dangerous bandit.’
‘More dangerous than your “Dragon Marauders”?’ muttered Simon.
Titus smiled. �
�Maybe not,’ he replied, and pushed open the hallway door. ‘Come on, then. Follow me.’
Once again, Emma found herself trailing behind the Gunclove guard. The plain hallway had five doors, all old and worn, with cracks near the bottom where the sand seemed to drift in through. Titus pushed open one of the side doors at the end, letting the strong scent of cooked meat fill the corridor. Emma’s mouth watered from the smell, even though she was not a fan of eating meat.
Inside the room, there was a long, wooden table. The legs were chipped at the end as though a dog had been gnawing at them. A dark rug rested underneath the table, years of sand and dust grained into it. The only window in the room had so many boards nailed over it that not a streak of light escaped in through. The main attraction, though, was the pile of platters on the table. Plates of ribs, bread, cheese, potatoes, and a large bowl of stew rested at the centre. A stack of clean plates stood at one corner and a stack of mugs, too. A wooden jug sat near it.
‘Oh man …’ murmured Simon, holding a hand to his stomach. ‘I’ve been eating nothing but bread for the past forty-eight hours. This is going to ruin me for the rest of the trip.’
Matt flashed an irritated look towards his brother and then turned to Titus. ‘It looks great. Please give our thanks to Flynn.’
Titus gave an amused smile, which would have suited Mystic just as fine. ‘Flynn didn’t set up this meal,’ he said. ‘I did.’
He wandered into the room and the others followed, Emma now feeling even more wary of the guard. It seemed like he wanted something from them.
She sat down at the end of the table; Simon and Matt took places on either side of her. Mystic sat on top of the table, such a livid expression on his face that no one made a comment when he pulled a piece of rib out of the plate and started ripping it apart in front of them.
Titus sat at the opposite end of the table and did not share a part in their meal, but watched the ceiling as they ate.
‘I can’t remember the last time I had stew,’ said Simon, and he pointed his spoon towards Matt. ‘How come you never cook anything like that?’
Matt glared at his little brother. ‘You should be thankful I even cook at all for an ungrateful worm like you!’
The insult was lost however, as Simon was absorbed in his appetizing range of food. Emma ate more slowly than the two brothers, who practically swallowed everything without chewing, and concentrated on figuring out why the arrangement was made for them.
When the table was nearly cleaned from food, Simon leaned back in his chair, a gleeful look on his face. ‘I think that was the best meal I’ve had for years,’ he complimented.
Matt rolled his eyes and looked over to Titus, who was still sitting quietly at the end of the table and now rotating a golden coin between his fingers. His silvery eyes were fixed on the object.
‘Thanks for setting this up for us,’ said a grateful Matt.
‘You should thank the cooks in the kitchen,’ replied Titus, finally pocketing the coin and looking up at the group. ‘They were the ones who prepared it, after all.’
Mystic – who had laid himself down on the table after eating – rose to his feet and said, ‘Shall we all get moving now?’
‘I thought you might stay for a while,’ said Titus quickly, his voice almost pleading. ‘Sit and chat with me.’
‘We don’t really have time for that,’ snapped Mystic, still with his back to the guard. ‘We have a time schedule that we must keep to.’
‘Mystic …’ said Emma softly, looking to the cat. ‘He has been extremely nice to us. Maybe just a few minutes …?’
The cat looked as though he wanted to bite the head off something. ‘Fine,’ he growled.
When it was decided that they were to stay, Titus leaned forward in his chair and said, ‘If you are going east from here, then I suggest taking caution. The group that was in the lobby will be travelling too, and they ride on wild dragons.’ He glanced between Matt and Simon. ‘You two are racers, but I noticed that when you came here you didn’t have any dragons with you.’
‘We left them behind,’ said Simon. ‘We didn’t want to risk the Dark Riders finding us here.’
Titus nodded. ‘It may have been safer to bring them here too, though,’ he said, ‘just in case.’
‘Why did those outcasts leave?’ asked Emma suddenly. ‘You said something to their leader – Zyreph – and then he left.’
‘In a hurry,’ added Simon, who now began to grow curious of the Gunclove guard too.
Titus gave a small smile. ‘That’s exactly what I was intending on talking about,’ he said. He pulled the golden coin back out from his pocket and slid it down the wooden table. Matt reached out a hand and grabbed it before it collided into his empty plate.
‘It’s an old type of coin,’ he said, inspecting the money, and then he passed it to Emma. ‘What’s does that have to do with anything?’
Emma examined the golden coin between her fingers. On one side there were two entwined and slinky dragons rising up from a fountain. On the other was a palace.
‘So you have no idea where it comes from?’ questioned Titus curiously.
‘It’s a Lamielian coin,’ spoke up Mystic, now staring at the rusted piece of gold in Emma’s hand. ‘It comes from Lamiel, the city beneath the waterfall. It’s an ancient place, lost to civilization.’
Titus smiled and lifted his hand, motioning for the coin to be returned to him. Emma slid the piece of gold down the table and he caught it with his index finger. ‘The cat is very smart,’ he said.
Mystic snorted. ‘You and your thieving master are driving my patience,’ he snapped. ‘Stop fooling around. Tell us what you want or leave before I lose my temper.’
‘I’m sure you don’t have much patience to spare, so I guess I’ll just say it.’ Titus put away his coin. ‘The reason Zyreph left was because he recognized what I was, and that is a seer.’
Again the cat snorted. ‘A soothsayer,’ he muttered, ‘which is exactly what I thought. You can see it in his eyes.’
Emma then understood why Mystic had been so uncomfortable when the group had come across Titus outside of Gunclove, and why the cat still had his back turned to the guard the whole time since they entered the room.
‘You are afraid of what I might see if I look into your eyes,’ said Titus, staring at the cat. ‘I understand. My captain – Flynn – feels the same way. He has not met eye contact with me since I met him.’
‘So … you can see our futures?’ questioned Simon slowly, leaning forward in his chair. ‘You can see what will happen to us when we leave here, like you did with Zyreph?’
Titus frowned. ‘Not exactly,’ he replied. ‘Zyreph has a narrow mind and an open heart. His future was easy to determine. Those with shielded minds and solid hearts have more difficult futures to predict.’
‘It’s a penetration of the person’s life,’ snapped Mystic. ‘You don’t have any business prodding around in someone’s mind like you do. Secrets that –’
‘I don’t have a choice,’ interjected Titus. ‘I see what I’m given to see.’
‘Then … what did you see about us?’ asked Emma quietly, remembering what the guard had said about her friends down in the foyer last night.
‘I saw … the same future that I saw the last time I looked into a mirror,’ answered Titus truthfully. ‘I saw a dark land with a tall tower ... and a wide city where smoke is always rising from the earth’s depths.’
With those words spoken, Mystic sharply turned his head towards the seer, but his gaze drifted quickly down to the table. ‘You speak of Vashgal,’ he said warily.
Titus looked surprised. ‘Vashgal? Are you sure?’
‘Sounds like it,’ muttered Matt, folding his hands on the table. ‘I guess your predictions are quite true.’
‘Why?’ demanded Titus. ‘Is that where you’re going?’ He looked from one person to the next. ‘Is that where you all are going?’ He nodded towards Mystic. ‘Even you?’
‘But why are you going there?’ prodded Titus further. ‘Why go through all the trouble –’
‘I think we should go.’ Matt stood up quickly. ‘Mystic was right. We have a schedule to keep, after all.’
Titus also jumped to his feet. ‘You have to tell me why!’ he exclaimed. ‘I saw the same thing in my future as I saw in yours!’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Matthias Wheeler.’
Matt suddenly stiffened, and his face took on a pallid colour. He wheeled around to face Titus, stormed over to where he was, and pushed the seer back into his seat. He then clasped both hands on the arms of the chair, trapping the guard.
‘Stay out of my mind,’ he sternly warned, glaring straight into the eyes of Titus, ‘or else you’ll see a different future the next time you look into a mirror.’
With that said, Matt abruptly left the dining room. Simon ran after his brother, but not before flashing an angry glance at the seer, still sitting where he was and somewhat shaken by Matt’s sudden change of personality.
Mystic snarled at Titus before jumping off the table. ‘You should keep your secrets to yourself,’ he growled, and then chased after the two brothers.
Emma gave the seer a final look before running after the others. She did not want to lose them, even if she was curious of what Titus had seen when he had looked into Matt’s eyes. Now was not the time to lag behind to solve a mystery that probably only meant little more than someone disliking their given name. Though, Titus wasn’t the only one who had been shocked by Matt’s outburst. Emma had never seen Matt so angry.
She found the brothers outside the inn, Matt stomping up the dusty street towards the entrance of the town and Simon trying to keep up to his brother’s wide steps. Mystic circled around them; he was keen on trying to get Matt’s attention, but with little avail. Emma hurried to catch up, stopping when she met up with Simon. He had a disheartened look on his face.
‘What’s going on?’ she demanded the three of them.
‘Nothing,’ said Matt bluntly. ‘I’m tired of having my mind invaded, is all.’
The Secret World of Dragons Page 14
