With that in mind, Emma travelled with a lighter step.
Not far from where she landed, Emma caught sight of something that caused her insides to roll over. She bent down and pushed back some charred branches to find Mystic lying limp on the ground. His fur was badly burned in some areas, showing the red flesh underneath, and the tip of his left ear had a small chunk ripped off. His wings – crumpled and twitching – were melted through with many holes. The dark membrane looked like sails plastered with rips.
‘M-Mystic?’ whispered Emma, her voice quivering. All hatred towards the creature had suddenly vanished at the sight of him. Though, the cat did not move or even make an indication that he had heard her. Emma stroked a finger across the top of his head, but still he did not stir.
With a trembling lower lip, Emma picked him up and cradled the creature in her arms, careful not to bend his damaged wings. She rose to her feet and began the lonely walk once more.
~ Chapter Sixteen ~
Wizards and Magi
Light had entered into the world again, but the forest was still gloomy, and Mystic had still not awoken. There were times when Emma feared that the cat was dead, but then he would inhale sharply, shudder, and fall silent again. There was no sign of the others and Emma heard nothing except the sound of her own shifting feet as she shuffled through the woods. She no longer worried about the Dark Riders or the creatures she imagined to live in the forest. Her only concerns were for Mystic’s health and finding the others before something bad happened to them. The Dark Riders plagued her thoughts with scenarios that involved someone from the group winding up hurt or captured. As much as she tried, she could not shake the idea from her mind.
A few times she changed direction, sensing that she was heading off track. Broken branches and scorched undergrowth were evidence of the earlier chase. Emma concluded that the Dark Rider had pursued Simon and Redfyre far into the forest – or far to the exit, as she hoped. At some point in time, the idea of following the sun struck Emma, but as she looked up it was impossible to tell where in the sky it was, so she scrapped the plan altogether. If Mystic were awake he would have known. He always knew.
Emma did not know how long she had been wandering around in the woods, but her stomach told her that she needed food. The backpacks full of provisions were strapped to Shartaug’s back, and she had no idea where dragon or rider was. It seemed that the forest never had much to offer either. The only thing Emma noticed was a collection of mushrooms, and she was not going to chance eating them. If she were a hunter, a great deal of wildlife was available, but she could not tolerate killing anything to eat.
When the nag in her stomach grew almost unbearable, she spotted a small bush hidden amongst a group of rocks where large, red berries bunched together in clusters on its stems. Laying Mystic down on the soft ground near the stones, Emma took off her sweater and started gathering berries. She picked a few great handfuls and then folded and tied the sweater up, trapping the fruit inside. When that was done, she lifted Mystic up again and carried him to a more concealed area where a few trees grew close enough together to hide them both. She put him and the sweater of berries down, and then began to eat.
The berries were juicy and sweet, but left a bitter taste in her mouth afterwards. Emma did not care. It felt as though she had never tasted anything so good in her whole life. She popped half a dozen into her mouth and chewed them carefully before swallowing. Then she picked up a single piece and offered it to the cat.
‘Mystic,’ she said quietly, holding the berry in front of his nose, ‘please wake up. You’ve been asleep for so long …’ her voice faltered and she swallowed painfully, ‘… I really need your help.’
There was no response, as expected, so Emma placed the berry beside Mystic, hoping that he would soon come back to his senses. He somehow looked smaller than before, as he lay wounded on the grass like that, and Emma wanted to hug him and cry until she woke up from this terrible nightmare. That was just what it was – a terrible nightmare – and it had all started when she had wandered into the piano room back home. She had been so stupid. Why had she not listened to her father and stayed out of the room? Instead, her curiosity had led her into the most horrifying situation possible, and now she could not find her way out.
A sense of weariness fell over her, and she drew her legs up to her chest, feeling more pitiful than ever. She leaned her forehead against her knees and closed her eyes, wishing that this world would disappear. When it did not vanish, she began to cry. Though, her tears were not all for herself and the problem that faced her, but for Mystic, her lost friends, and her father. More than anything, she wanted to see her father again. She wanted to hear his voice and to know that he was all right. To think about how worried he was – wondering where his daughter could be – made her even sadder. She did not want him to worry.
Something bumped against her legs then, and Emma lifted her head up, only to stare in confusion at the fully healed Mystic. His wings were gone again and the burns on his flesh seemed to have disappeared. His fur had grown back too, but the missing piece of his ear had not. He stared up at her through light violet eyes.
‘Mystic …’ whispered Emma slowly, wiping her face with the back of her hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly grabbed him up, hugging him and laughing happily in the gloom. She kissed the top of his little head and then placed him back down, pushing her sweater of berries towards him. ‘Eat those – you must be hungry – I was so worried – the drayskuls are gone now – Simon and the others are missing though,’ she sputtered out all in a rush.
The cat was slightly bemused and his eyes had grown so light that they were nearly grey. When he spoke next, it was all in choppy words. ‘You - you carried me here?’
‘Yes, of course! I wasn’t going to leave you behind,’ said Emma, and she held up a berry. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’
‘No,’ said Mystic lightly. ‘Do you have any idea where we are?’
‘Nope, but you have to eat,’ urged Emma again. ‘You haven’t eaten since we left –’
‘Emma,’ said Mystic quietly, ‘this isn’t the time for it. I need to know what happened after … after you fell off.’
Emma frowned. ‘After you pushed me off, you mean,’ she corrected him.
‘I might have, but it was for your own good,’ said Mystic. ‘That drayskul wanted to eat you.’
‘How do you know that?’ questioned Emma. ‘Wouldn’t Vanyir want me alive?’
‘Did you see the monster’s open mouth?’
Emma fell silent. So the cat had actually saved her life, and not tried to be a pest like she had thought. ‘How did you heal up so fast?’ she asked. ‘And where did you get those wings?’
Mystic gave an impatient sigh. ‘There’s another time for questions and answers,’ he said. ‘Right now I need to know what happened.’
‘Fine then,’ muttered Emma. ‘After you pushed me off Red-Fang the Dark Rider set off after Simon instead of me. I don’t know why though.’
‘Probably because he – or she – thought you were eaten by their steed,’ explained Mystic. ‘Then what?’
‘I followed the same path they took,’ described Emma. ‘I’ve been tracking them for a long time now.’ She glanced up towards the sky, but – as usual – could not see the sun. ‘I think it’s almost dinner time, but I can’t be sure.’
‘I think it’s almost supper time,’ said Mystic amusingly, now finally sitting. ‘But that’s good. I was afraid you’d pass me by and take a wrong turn. This forest can be dangerous, you know.’ He licked up a berry from the sweater. ‘There are poisonous berries here too. I’m glad you didn’t find any of those.’
Emma paled, remembering how she had wolfed down the berries, and now eyed them warily.
‘So you want to know about me …’ murmured the cat, sticking a long claw through a berry. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘How did you heal so fast?’ asked Emma quickly. ‘I mean, you were hu
rt so badly …’
‘It is part of who I am,’ answered Mystic. ‘I have that power. It’s a gift I was born with.’ He popped the berry into his mouth. ‘Though, I can’t grow back arms or –’ he pointed to his injured ear ‘– anything else. It has limits.’
‘Okay,’ said Emma slowly, ‘what about those wings of yours? Cats don’t have wings.’
‘And I’m not a cat,’ replied Mystic. ‘I’ve told you that before.’
‘Then … what are you?’ enquired Emma. ‘Or are you even going to tell me that much?’
Mystic felt the gap in his ear and sighed. ‘To speak the truth, I can’t tell you,’ he said. ‘I mean … I’m physically unable to.’
‘What do you mean?’ Emma glanced down at her sweater to see the berries all eaten, and then looked incredulously over at Mystic. ‘Do you even know what you are?’
Mystic looked as though he had swallowed something sour. ‘Of course I know what I am,’ he said briskly. ‘I’ve just been sworn not to say.’
‘By who?’ demanded Emma. ‘And why?’
‘Well that’s where it gets interesting,’ murmured Mystic, his eyes darkening. ‘Do you remember that coin Titus had?’
‘The one from Lamiel?’
‘Yes, that one.’ Mystic extended one of his claws and started drawing what looked like a waterfall into the forest soil. ‘You see … a long time ago, the world was very different from what it was now. Places seemed much more magical … and I must confess … I was a little curious.’
Emma tried to picture what Mystic exactly looked like back at that time, but no particular image crossed her mind.
‘People spoke of an ancient city beyond the great waterfall at the beginning of Serpent’s Pass.’ Mystic added the long curve of a river to the waterfall and then drew some triangles that Emma assumed were trees. ‘At the end of the forest it hid, and I was determined to find it. Little did I know, a powerful wizard –’
‘Wizard?’ interrupted Emma. ‘Wizards aren’t real. That’s like saying –’
‘– dragons are real, and talking cats, and humans who never age!’ Mystic smirked and drew the thin figure of a man with a long beard. ‘That looks wizardish, doesn’t it?’ He studied his picture for a moment before saying, ‘Yes, he might have looked something like that. Old, bent, and completely stupid …
‘Anyway,’ murmured the cat, ‘the wizard was also looking for the city. I guess he heard about all the magical properties that were hidden inside. He was terribly greedy.
‘And so I met this wizard at the foot of the waterfall, as luck would have it.’
Emma’s expression turned into a frown when she saw Mystic draw a tiny dot next to the wizard. ‘What is that supposed to be?’ she asked, trying to imagine what possible creature or landmark it could resemble.
‘That’s me,’ answered the cat, and he labelled himself “M”.
‘Huh,’ said Emma, seeing that the dot looked no more like a cat than it did anything else.
‘So this wizard and I spoke to one another below the thundering falls,’ continued Mystic, ‘and he seemed rather agitated that I found him. Instead of killing me – which I knew he could have easily done – he murmurs a few words and before I know it, I’m on the ground trembling and twitching as though I was taking some sort of mad spasm. I fell asleep there and when I woke up the next morning, I found myself in this –’ he pointed to his furry chest ‘– body.’
‘That must have been awful!’ exclaimed Emma. ‘Why did he do that? And where did he go?’
Mystic shrugged. ‘I figured he must not have found Lamiel after, because I went there and lived in the city for a long time before setting out again,’ said the cat. ‘I suspected the wizard must have left Dragonis completely. But it didn’t matter. I knew how to break the curse without his help.’
‘Then why didn’t you?’ questioned Emma, surprised by this new information. ‘If you knew how, wouldn’t you have turned back right away?’
Mystic shook his head. ‘Impossible,’ he replied. ‘You see, I lost a bit of memory after I changed. The wizard planned it that way. His voice was strong in my head when I woke in my cat body for the first time. Thou will be forbidden to say what thou were! That was what he said first, and then he told me, Thou will not remember thy name!’
‘But your name … it’s Mystic, isn’t it?’ Emma was slightly confused by now. It seemed everyone was gaining new names these days … or remembering old ones.
‘Of course not,’ answered the cat. ‘Mystic was just something I made up. I thought it was a brilliant name for a black cat. My real name is lost and no one living today knows what it is.’
‘That’s horrible …’ whispered Emma. ‘Is it a common name? Maybe we can start guessing?’
Mystic’s eyes grew light. ‘Figuring out my name might take a hundred-thousand years,’ he said sadly. ‘I gave up after three-hundred. I looked everywhere, too. But everyone I knew was either slain by Vanyir or hiding in a place so secretive that even I could not find them. Libraries were of no use to me, and eventually I just … gave up.’
‘There must be a way, though,’ said Emma determinedly, now rising to her feet. She began to pace the area between the trees, which reminded her of how the cat paced, and she stopped, choosing to think while remaining still. ‘We’ll reverse your curse and fix those two stones. I know we will.’
‘Well …’ said Mystic softly, ‘you sound just like him.’
Emma glanced down at the cat, a curious look travelling across her face. ‘Just like who?’
That seemed to harden Mystic’s openness, and he shook his head and said, ‘Never mind. I can’t remember. Forget about it.’ He dashed away from her, heading back out onto the singed path of broken branches and trampled undergrowth. ‘Come on!’ he called.
Why does he have to be so mysterious? Emma sighed, gave up on the idea of ever learning anything, and followed the cat. He had not wandered too far before she caught up with the small creature. He had a tendency to walk fast, which was very annoying, as she was tired and sore from the fall, but trusting Mystic to guide them was better than her own adventuring instincts. Without the path made by the dragons, she would still be lying on the ground back where she had fallen off Redfyre.
‘Keep up,’ called Mystic. ‘If the sun goes down while we’re out here alone with nothing to light a fire with and nothing to eat, we’ll be finished. Giving ourselves up to Vanyir would be no worse.’
Emma gulped and quickened her pace, despite her aching limbs. She was practically running after the cat now, and all complaints seemed to have wandered to the back of her mind for the time being. Trapped in a forest after sundown without Simon or Matt and their dragons seemed like a horrible situation the more she thought about it. Even now, the shadows between the trees were growing longer. Soon, the woods would fall back into the same darkness as the night before, and even the trampled path would be invisible to her eyes. Mystic would be able to perceive the trail, perhaps, but her sight would be useless, and she did not want that to happen.
‘I’d roughly guess that the time is around … maybe six o’clock,’ shouted Mystic as he ran. ‘That gives us some time. Beyond the forest is a place more horrible than anything you’ve seen so far.’
So far as what? wondered Emma. As far as my lifespan goes, or as far into this world as I’ve travelled?
Either way, she knew that she was much unprepared to face whatever lurked ahead. A dragon graveyard was what Mystic had called Vashgal. Emma did not know what to expect, or what would happen once she got there, but her heart told her nothing good awaited on the other side of the forest. If there was some other way … some different path she could take, she wished it would show itself. Her friends were gone and only Mystic remained now. With only the two of them, Emma doubted the very idea of confronting Vanyir. In fact, she doubted everything at this moment.
It was almost sundown when Flynn awoke to the dying world. His head was spinning and his body ached
from top to bottom. He was not even sure where he was or who he was for a moment, but then the memories of the previous night scourged through his mind and he sat up in such a panic that pain rippled down across his back. He threw himself back onto the soft ground and clenched his hand around a nearby tree root, trying to drown out the pain while it coursed through his system. It took nearly five minutes, but when he thought the ache had completely vanished, he slowly sat up again.
The first thing Flynn noticed was that he was alone. He was sitting amongst a few trees with raised roots and many fallen leaves. The earth was spongy, but not entirely comfortable. The forest was beginning to grow dark and a slight chill filled the air. Nothing was familiar to him, and his dragon … Copper, where was Copper?
Rising slowly to his feet, Flynn leaned against one of the old trees and surveyed the area more thoroughly. He was definitely alone. That was the part that did not make sense, as Titus and Lanai had followed him … or had they?
‘Copper!’ called Flynn, though his voice seemed weak in the emptiness. He was sure his dragon would find him. Copper never left his side, and if he did, he was never far away. ‘Probably finding something to eat,’ Flynn assured himself, and swallowed anxiously when his words sounded more like a hopeful lie than the truth.
It did not matter though. He was a reputable – if not favoured – thief, and he had learned long ago to look after and defend himself when it came down to the worse. Lost in a forest without direction was nothing. He had his sword, and that was enough for Flynn the Tempest. All of his greatest achievements happened because of his famous weapon – the Tempest Blade. Without it, he would be nothing. The sword had been passed down through his family for generations, and when it came to him, no one else in his line had made better use of it. He was the most famed of all the Marr family, and he would not die in these nameless woods – especially if everyone else had left him. To die here would be a waste of everything he had ever done … and he would never see his sister again.
The Secret World of Dragons Page 17
