The Dragon Stone

by Paul Summerhayes

  “Mom,” said Ryver, her voice full of emotion. She dropped to her knees and gently touched her mother’s shoulder, scared she what might find. “Are you all right—”

  The woman turned and meeting Ryver’s stare with wide terrified eyes. It wasn’t her mother—it was the young woman from the pizza place down the street. With a yelp, the woman scrambled away from Ryver, looking like she was going to scream. Instead, she sprang to her feet and bolted down the alley, disappearing around the opposite corner to the one the thug took.

  “Ryver, is that you?”

  Ryver spun around, her mother was standing at the alley’s entrance, a concerned look on her face. She rushed to her mother, throwing her arms around her neck and squeezing her.

  “What’s going on?” asked Jessica, pushing Ryver back and looking her up and down. “And why are you half naked?”

  “Mom, I-I…”

  “Okay, you can tell me when we get inside. It’s freezing out here.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Ryver opened her eyes—it was still early morning. She pushed out a hand from her blankets to gauge how cold it was. Sighing, she squirmed back down under the blankets, trying to get comfortable. There was no need for her to get up, she hadn’t been to school for months, and she had no other plans.

  After lying for several minutes, Ryver became restless. Hunger gnawed at her stomach. She was always tired and hungry after she used her gifts. That was the downside to magic—it always sapped a person’s energy, and right now she felt flat, like she had just finished a marathon.

  “Urr.” I need food.

  Braving the cold air, she sat up and reached for the purple socks on the table beside her bed. With her socks on, she stepped onto the floor and quickly got dressed. After pulling on her mother’s old quilted jacket, she opened her bedroom door in search of breakfast. The apartment was quiet as always. Her mom would be at work.

  On the small kitchen table was piece of folded paper.

  What’s this? Ryver opened the note.

  Ryver,

  We need to talk. I will be home at 8pm, be home please.

  Have a good day at school.

  Love, Mom.

  Talk? It’s about my gifts…I’ve become a danger to the people I love—wow, that’s dramatic, Ryver, she thought, chuckling to herself.

  She dropped the note onto the table and moved to the cupboard, grabbing a cereal box and mixing bowl. After pouring half the box’s contents and milk into the bowl, she started eating her pro-athlete-sized breakfast. The events of the night before replayed in her mind.

  Hey! The jewelry box. This all started because of that box.

  Leaving her breakfast unfinished, Ryver retrieved the small box from the black backpack still hidden under her bed and returned to the kitchen. Placing the box on the table, she continued eating her cereal, but found herself unable to take her eyes off the intricate pattern on the box’s lid. The more she studied the pattern, the more she felt like she had seen these dragons before.

  Déjà vu?

  After finishing her breakfast, Ryver pushed the bowl away and slid the dragon box closer. A small brass latch secured the lid, and the daylight revealed a small key hole which she was sure wasn’t visible last night.

  I need a knife.

  She opened a bench drawer and rummaged for the sturdy pen knife she knew lived there. Whenever Ryver or her mother needed to store something that didn’t have a place, it went into this drawer. There were years of odds and ends there, and many items brought back old memories. There were even things of her father—things he had placed there before he died.

  Ryver found the knife she was after, in an old plastic container along with a few old keys, coins and a few other small metal items she couldn’t identify. It was fun looking through all these old things and the memories they invoked. As she retrieved the knife, an item caught her attention. It was a small black key, not like modern ones. Its fancy shape gave it a classy rustic look.

  “You’ll make a cool necklace,” she said to the key.

  Ryver returned to the table with the knife and placed her new necklace pendant beside the jewelry box. Unfolding the knife blade, she prised underneath the box’s latch and gave it a pull. The blade bent slightly. “Shit.” She stopped. The latch was stronger than it looked.

  Her gaze fell on the old key.

  I wonder…

  Picking up the small key, she inserted it into the lock. It fit! Surprised, she slowly turned the key. There was a small amount of resistance before she was rewarded with a faint click and the latch sprung open.

  “Impossible!” Ryver stared at the box in disbelief.

  Was this my father’s? It can’t be. Why would the Devils have something of my parents'?

  She reached for the box, but hesitated. I’m being silly, it’s just a jewelry box. Ryver unconsciously held her breath as she opened the lid.

  “What?”

  Inside the box was a plain black stone, round and smooth. A strip of leather ran through a small hole in its center—it was just a simple necklace. Frowning, Ryver stared at the necklace, not knowing what to think.

  “I almost got shot for this? A piece of cheap jewelry? Shit, Bull’s bullet would be worth more than this rubbish.”

  Meow.

  Ryver looked at the window. A sleek black cat sat on the window sill looking back at her with a disinterested stare.

  “Brutus, where have you been, you naughty cat? Freeloading off Mrs. Kozlowski again?”

  Moving to the window, she lifted the window pane and the black cat slid between the bars and dropped silently onto the floor. As Ryver closed the window again, Brutus rubbed against her leg, purring.

  “Yes, I’m happy to see you, too.” She bent down and patted his head.

  Returning to the table, Ryver picked up the black stone pendant and a vision flashed before her eyes. She saw a shadowy tunnel, made from ancient stones. Water trickled along the worn flag-stone floor and she somehow knew, it flowed into a river—her city’s river.

  Movement attracted her vision and she glanced down one of the side tunnels. Something large moved there, in the oily darkness. Whatever it was, it was ancient, much older than this city, and possibly older than the human race. It called to her and she felt a longing that she was powerless to disobey. Taking a faltering step, she sensed the creature in the darkness salivating for her.

  It was hungry.

  A scream, ripped from her throat, broke the silence and she found herself back in the kitchen, her forehead wet with perspiration.

  A yellow symbol quickly faded from the stone’s black surface and it became unadorned once more. The stone was warm in her hand. She blinked, not understanding the meaning of the vision she just saw.

  What happened? What’s that symbol? Magic. Now, it makes sense. The 9th Street Devils want this box back for this black stone, because it is magical. Why are thugs involved with magic?

  Meow.

  Brutus rubbed against her leg and she glanced down at him, patting his head.

  You sense the magic too, don’t you, boy?

  Meow.

  “I have to ask Mom about this key…and the stone.” I wish Grandma was still alive. She’d know.

  Her grandmother, Lillian, had been dead for years now. She had died not long after her father, and like Ryver, Grandma Lillian was a witch. She missed her a lot. They were kindred souls and had a connection that she and her mother, a normal, would never have. She knew her mom loved her, but she could never understand what Ryver felt when she channelled magical energy. Lillian had known the feeling.

  Ryver always suspected her grandmother held a position of importance on the witch’s high council, but she was too young to attend any of their meetings prior to her grandma’s death and didn’t know for sure.

  “Could this box...be Grandma Lillian’s?”

  Meow.

  “You think so too, don’t you, Brutus?”

  Ryver put the stone necklace around her neck
and tucked it under her shirt. The stone was cool against her skin.

  If this is Grandma Lillian’s stone, I have to find out what the 9th Street Devils were doing with it. Maybe I can use a little magic and scare the info out of Bull. Err, probably not the best idea I’ve ever had.

  Ryver opened a tin of cat food and placed it on the floor for Brutus. She quickly cleaned away her breakfast things and scooped up the apartment keys from the bench, heading for the front door. At the door, she paused. Is this a good idea? Probably not, but she had eleven hours before her mother came home for their chat. So that gave her eleven hours to investigate the mystery of the stone.

  “I’ll be back soon, Brutus.”

  The black cat raised his head, licking food from its mouth.

  Meow.

  CHAPTER 4

  A cold breeze blew down the street, forcing Ryver to pull up her jacket’s collar. She was officially on the Devils’ turf, as was the whole eastern side of the city—including a few miles of the river. Several times she had seen the Devils hanging out at the Yellow Parrot bar. It was well-known as the gang’s headquarters. Most sensible people avoided it, but with no other ideas, it was Ryver’s starting point.

  She felt dread as she rounded a corner displaying a sign that said ‘9th Street’. Walking briskly, she moved along the street until she was opposite the Devils’ headquarters. It was an old, two-story building sitting on the corner of 9th and East Street. Its tacky neon sign was not illuminated, but the door to the downstairs bar was open. It looked as inviting as a lion’s den.

  “Hello.”

  Ryver jumped. “Shit!”

  Liam stood beside her, grinning and looking at her with big puppy dog eyes. He wore the same old clothes as he always did, which she now noticed were too small for him. He had grown taller in the last few months. I have to steal something bigger for him.

  “You scared the shit out of me,” she said.

  “Why are you hanging around here? Aren’t the Devils hunting you?”

  “Shhh. Do you want to get me killed?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Keep it down then.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  She glanced around, waiting for a couple to pass by before answering. “I’m spying on the…you know whos.”

  “The Devils?”

  “Yeah.” She rolled her eyes. Kids!

  Liam looked across at the bar. “Aren’t you…”

  “What?”

  “Scared?”

  Ryver could see his concern. “I need to find out about that box.”

  “That’s too dangerous. Go across the river and sell the stupid box.”

  “I can’t.” She noticed his quizzical look. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later.”

  “Well, my next business appointment is not for a while. I’ll wait with you.”

  Shrugging, Ryver explained the discovery of the old key, the opening of the box and the black stone. She thought it wise to leave out the part about she could use magic and that she was a descendant from a long line of witches and warlocks.

  “Do you think your father worked for the Devils?”

  “No!” she said just a little too quickly. “He wasn’t like that. He was a good man.”

  “Everyone can be bought.”

  “Not him.”

  Liam didn’t respond, just looked across at the bar. He was a good kid, but Ryver felt sorry for him. He had a bad start in life and things didn’t look like they would be getting better any time soon.

  “Hello, what’s this?” he said.

  A black sedan pulled up in front of the bar, its driver remained in the car with the engine running. After a few minutes, a large man stepped out the bar’s door, flanked by two men. It was Bull. The three men climbed into the waiting car and a moment later, the black sedan thundered off down the road.

  “Crap. I’ll never be able to follow them,” said Ryver.

  “Don’t worry, they’ll be back.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. Hey, do you want some lunch?”

  “I…I’m not hungry.”

  “My treat,” she said. “Well, it’s not actually my money. I lifted it from those two love birds that passed earlier.”

  As the day wore on, Ryver became anxious. It would be dark soon and she needed to be home before her mother arrived. Bull was her only hope of finding out about the black stone and he hadn’t returned to the Devils’ headquarters yet. She wasn’t sure how to get the big man by himself and then, get him to talk. First of all, she needed to find him.

  The two of them standing opposite the bar all day might seem suspicious so they took turns watching. One watched, while the other hid out of sight. Liam was a street kid and didn’t look out of place in this part of the city, but it was a different story for her. A skinny teenaged girl hanging around this rough neighborhood—she just hoped she wasn’t mistaken for a prostitute.

  Liam didn’t seem to mind waiting with her all day, in fact he appeared to enjoy being around her. She often caught him staring before he suspiciously looked away.

  Boys, she chuckled. They’re all the same.

  The sun dropped below the buildings’ rooftops, throwing the streets into a growing darkness. Vehicle lights flashed past as they stood shoulder to shoulder in the shadows, trying to keep warm. Across the street, the bar’s neon sign flickered on, broadcasting it was open and spilling yellow light onto the sidewalk.

  Several people entered the bar, but Bull was not amongst them.

  “Come on,” said Ryver. “We’re wasting our time here. Looks like he’s not coming back today.”

  “I don’t know how you were going to question him anyway. It sounded like suicide.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Ryver grabbed Liam’s arm, pulling him in the direction of home. They walked for some time before Ryver broke the silence. “Where are you sleeping tonight?”

  “I’ll check on Old Jack and sleep in his building. Most of my stash is hidden there anyway.”

  They stopped on a street corner to say their goodbyes as they were headed in different directions. Ryver produced some money and quickly thrust it into Liam’s hand. He resisted the gift, but she made him take it. Humbly, he thanked her and they parted company.

  Ryver had only gone half a block when she felt like she was being followed. Suspecting it was Liam, she turned around several times but couldn’t see him. There weren’t many people on the street and there was no sign of Liam.

  Just my imagination? But she wasn’t convinced.

  Rounding the last corner, Ryver quickened her pace. Her apartment was a hundred yards away and she was keen to get out of the cold.

  Across from her building, Ryver sensed something wrong in the alley where she helped the woman the night before. A foreboding washed over her and she hesitated at her building’s stairs, grabbing the handrail for support as she wavered. Motionless, her eyes were drawn to the alley’s darkest shadows. Something lurked there, waiting. She sensed its presence.

  And its hunger.

  The black stone was warm against her chest and unconsciously, she gripped it through her shirt. Its warmth gradually flowed down her arm and into her body, washing away some of her fear.

  Move!

  After several tense seconds she recovered enough to climb the stairs, taking them two at a time. Inside the building, she slammed the doors, panting breathlessly. She spun and her eyes roamed the darkness beyond the door’s newly installed glass, hoping whatever was out there couldn’t hear the thumping of her heart.

  But, she knew it could.

  Suddenly, light flared in the darkness as a car sped toward her building. For a brief moment, its headlights illuminated the alley as it passed by. In the headlights the alley looked empty, and Ryver no longer felt the heaviness of being watched. She released her held breath, relieved. Whatever was there was now gone.

  Backing away from the doors, Ryver watched the darkness. After several steps she turned and
ran up the stairs, not stopping until she reached her apartment door on the third floor. After fumbling with the keys for a few seconds, she threw open the door and entered. The door closed with a bang and she slumped against its cold surface, half sinking to the floor.

  What was that?

  Ryver pushed herself off the door and moved to the window, gazing down into the gloomy street. It was quiet and nothing moved—not a car or pedestrian. As far as she could remember it was the first time she had seen the street so empty, and it was still early evening. Her mind raced. It was like the whole city was deserted—it wasn’t natural. Is magic at play here? The black stone suggested the Devils were dealing in more than just drugs and robberies these days.

  After watching the street for several long minutes, she glanced at her watch. 07:51.

  Shit! Mom will be home soon. Whatever was out there is…gone…and Mom mustn’t know what I’ve been doing.

  Dragging herself away from the barred window, Ryver headed for the bathroom. She turned on the shower and undressed quickly. As she stepped toward the shower, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and stopped. She forgot that she still wore the stone. In the mirror the same oriental symbol glowed again on its glossy black surface.

  That’s odd.

  Ryver looked down at the pendant hanging from her neck. There was no symbol on it—it was just a plain round stone. She glanced back at the mirror, the yellow symbol was clearly visible on the stone’s surface.

  “That can’t be normal!”

  Shower first, investigate later.

  The room started to steam up as Ryver stepped under the shower, enjoying the warm water flowing over her face and down her body. Unnoticed at her chest, the stone’s yellow symbol flared for a moment before fading back into the shiny black surface.

  Uncertainty if someone was watching her and the discovery of the black stone gnawed at her thoughts. She had the feeling that things were happening, but she didn’t know exactly what. She felt helpless and this was not a feeling she liked.