The Dragon Stone

by Paul Summerhayes

Ryver crept down the corridor and listened to the door at its end. She could hear many people talking and opening the door a crack, confirmed it was the main bar. Several people sat drinking at a long timber bar, which was attended by a fearsome looking biker whose obese body was heavily tattooed, including his shaved head. Across the room was a flight of stairs leading to the night club above and with any luck, the place where Liam was being held.

  I’ll never make it to the stairs without being seen. She could feel her panic rising and she fought to keep it in check. What now?

  Nervously, Ryver glanced back toward the kitchen. The men’s harsh voices drifted out into the corridor. Someone swore and the others cheered—their card game was in full swing, but for how long?

  Maybe I can sneak out the back without being noticed—

  She jumped, the loading dock roller door slammed closed. She was trapped.

  Crap!

  A few seconds later, a man appeared at the far end of the corridor—it was the ganger who had assisted the delivery men. Without hesitating, Ryver slipped into the basement stairwell and held her breath. She prayed he hadn’t notice her, and not for the first time, she wondered how she got herself into these predicaments. After several long moments, she peered into the corridor. The man was gone. Relieved, she let out her breath. She hadn’t been seen, and by the sound of their jibes, the man must’ve joined his companions’ game.

  This is too much. I should’ve taken their offer and exchanged the stone for Liam. There’s still time, it’s not dark yet. Maybe they won’t kill us…

  Ryver glanced at her watch. 05:28. Time was running out. She needed to find Liam and get out of this place in the next thirty minutes.

  I could try to sneak out the back way…or cross the bar and go up the stairs. Her options were limited and neither of these ideas sounded good. Next time go with the deal, Ryver. Don’t be the hero.

  An odd sensation crept over her, sending a shiver up her spine. It came from behind her and she glanced down the stairs into the oily darkness below. A strange coldness oozed up from the blackness, and she knew something wasn’t right.

  What’s down there? Liam?

  Ryver took a step down the stairs and her fingertips tingled. Her magic appeared at times of great stress—usually when she was angry or scared.

  And she was definitely scared now.

  CHAPTER 6

  Ryver descended into the darkness, the stairs creaking with each step, causing her to wince. The air felt cooler at the bottom of the stairs—she just hoped it was natural. Pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders, she peered into the blackness but couldn’t see a thing.

  The dragon stone was warm against her skin and she gripped it unconsciously through her shirt. Urging herself forward, she guided herself with her free hand along the wall. Doubt grew with each hesitant step and she wondered why she felt compelled to go on. What’s down here? Her progress was slow and deliberate as the fear of the unknown grew. She wanted to turn back, but couldn’t. It was like her vision.

  There’s nothing down here, she told herself unconvincingly. Nothing.

  Thump!

  What was that?!

  Her feet faltered, and she froze. In the blackness she couldn’t determine the sound’s direction. Looking back over her shoulder nervously, she half expected to see someone creeping up behind her. But there was only darkness. Not even a hint of light came from above.

  I can’t be that far from the stairs.

  Thump!

  Her head whipped around, her eyes wide as she stared into the impenetrable darkness—it was as though she was blind. Her heartbeat thumped loud in her chest and she clenched her fists.

  It’s just dark, she kept telling herself, but her senses told her otherwise.

  After some distance the wall changed direction and she followed it obediently. Its texture changed from flat bricks to more irregular shapes—it felt like it was constructed from natural stone and some of the mortar crumbled and flaked off at her touch. The air smelt damp and she wondered how old this tunnel system actually was. Ancient, she guessed, and possibly part of the old city, which she knew was buried far beneath the modern buildings and streets.

  Surprised by a distant light, she quickened her pace, more than eager to be out of the blackness, regardless of the light’s source. As Ryver neared, she could see that the light spilled into the tunnel from a doorway. Both the doorway arch and walls were constructed from natural stone. The structure looked ancient, similar to pictures she had seen in history books. Thick cobwebs coated the corners of the doorway and fine threads hung down, threatening to catch on anyone who passed.

  She paused, preparing for something to jump out at her, but nothing happened. It took her a moment to work up the courage to move closer and look into the room. The light source was an oil lamp sat in a niche in the wall, revealing a small square room built with stones like the tunnel. There was an old-style timber door in the opposite wall from the one she peered through, reminding Ryver of castles. There was nothing else in the room except a thick layer of dust on the stone floor and cobwebs hanging from the low ceiling.

  Stone walls…an old lamp? She felt out of place, like she was on a movie set or inside a computer game. It was all just a little too surreal.

  Ryver had no choice but to go on. She had to find Liam, she’d gotten him into this crazy mess and she owed it to him to get him out. Quietly, she crossed the room and she reached for the rusty door latch, when it suddenly opened by itself. The tall stranger who gave her the warning stood in the doorway, still wearing the same black jacket. His face was turned as he looked back at someone in the next room.

  “Yes, master,” he said. “As you command.”

  Overcoming her initial shock, Ryver threw herself flat against the wall beside the door in a wild panic. Pressing against the cold stones, her muscles locked, frozen with fear as she stared wide-eyed, anticipating imminent discovery.

  The tall man stepped into the small room, his back to her, and closed the timber door. A sword hung from his belt—and it looked real! Several long strides carried the man across the room and he vanished into the dark tunnel beyond, heading back to the bar above.

  Ryver breathed out, her body shaking. That was close. Too close. She pressed her ear lightly on the closed door and listened for several long seconds, but she couldn’t hear a thing.

  If the Devils’ boss is down here, then Liam might be as well. She glanced at her watch, but the display was blank. Oh, great! Dead battery. It must be almost sun down.

  Steadying her nerves for several long minutes, Ryver carefully pulled back the latch and slowly pushed open the door. The dry hinges complained, squeaking loudly in the still air. She stopped when the opening was wide enough to peek inside and hoped no one heard her.

  Poking her head through the gap, she gasped. The room beyond had a high domed ceiling and was much larger than a basketball court. At the far end, flames flickered in two massive iron braziers bathing the room in an orange glow and creating dancing shadows along the stone walls. Standing silently between the two braziers was a large slab of dark stone, a yard high and three yards long.

  It looked like an altar.

  She went cold. The room looked alien or other worldly and Ryver doubted what she was seeing.

  What is this place?

  Her sight roamed the shadows, but the room was empty—there was no sign of the ‘boss’ and she appeared to be standing at the room’s only exit. Who was the tall man talking to? Pushing open the door a little further, Ryver slipped inside and crouched low. She moved a few steps along the wall, expecting something to pounce on her at any moment, but nothing happened.

  There was something lying on the stone altar. She took half a step forward, her eyes glued to the motionless shape.

  No!

  It was a body!

  Her mind spun and she prayed it wasn’t Liam. Ryver willed herself toward the altar, her eyes wet with unfallen tears. She had to know what lay t
here on the cold stone.

  “No!”

  Ryver dropped to her knees as she came to the realization that the altar held a dismembered body. The body had been skinned, and the chest and ribs opened and laid flat to expose the internal organs. Blood stained the sides of the dark stone and congealed in puddles on the floor. The smell of raw meat and blood filled the air, making her gag. She quickly turned away from the grisly sight and covered her face with her hands.

  “Liam! I’m sorry…” A ragged breath shook her body as she sobbed. “No, no...it can’t be.” Tears flowed unheeded, leaving wet tracks down her cheeks.

  “Who’s there?”

  Ryver looked up from her hands, her eyes darting frantically from shadow to shadow.

  “Liam? Is that you?” she asked hopefully.

  “Who’s there?”

  “It’s Ryver!” She stood, rushing forward several paces before stopping herself. Something moved in the shadows. Liam?

  The thin boy stepped out from behind the altar, rubbing his head. “Ryver? I’m glad to see you.”

  Running to him, she threw her arms around him in a fierce hug. Relief flooding over her as tears of joy flowed. “You’re alive!”

  “Hey. Don’t squash me.”

  “What happened?” She released him and quickly scanned his body for injuries. He looked pale and dazed, but otherwise he was unhurt.

  “I-I was jumped…something hit me in the head. Then, I…I woke up here.”

  They were close to the gore-covered altar now and the stench was overpowering. She glanced at what was once a person, then quickly looked away. That poor person. Grabbing Liam’s hand, Ryver pulled him away from the altar and toward the door.

  “Let’s go.”

  But before they reached the door, a large dark shape blurred out from the shadows and barred their way. It was bigger than a man and would have been much taller if its massive body wasn’t so hunched over. Thick powerful arms hung from its broad muscular shoulders and a hideous horned head sat on top of a massive neck, corded with thick muscles. Its whole gorilla-like body was covered in black prickly fur, and two black bestial eyes stared down at them—regarding them as its prey.

  The demon roared and the sound echoed off the walls, causing Ryver to stagger back as though she had been delivered a physical blow. She locked with the creature’s eyes and in that moment, she knew more than her body was in jeopardy—this demon was hungry for her soul.

  “Get behind me!” she shouted to her young companion as her fingertips came alive with mystical energy. Not willing to take her gaze off the demon for a moment, she hoped Liam obeyed her.

  Fear threatened to overwhelm her senses as her massive adversary moved toward her. An involuntary cry escaped her lips and the blood thumped loudly in her ears, almost drowning out the sound of the magical energy arcing from her fingers and dancing along the ground around her. The air filled with the scent of ozone as the beast roared another ear-piercing challenge, but this time she held her ground.

  “Back!” she screamed as her eyes darkened, becoming as black as the demon’s. The sound of her voice was whipped away as threads of blue lightning arced from her raised hand, striking the demon’s chest and lifting it off the ground. It smashed heavily against the door, slamming it closed with a boom that echoed around the room.

  The demon’s fur smoldered as it straightened its massive body. Flexing long clawed fingers, it regarded her with bestial contempt. Then, without warning and almost faster than human sight, the creature leapt forward, raising a taloned fist in a deadly downward strike. With more luck than skill, Ryver leapt to the ground at the last moment, dodging the blow that would have felled a bull elephant. The demon thundered past her, coming to a sliding stop against the ancient altar.

  Magical energy flowed through Ryver’s veins, pushing away her last remnants of fear. Her face contorted in a grimace as a scream tore from her throat like a banshee’s call. A blanket of lightning danced from her raised hands and punched clean through the demon’s body, blowing stones from the wall behind it.

  The demon howled in pain, grabbing at its massive chest and dropping to its knees. It raised its broad, hideous head and contemplated her with unearthly eyes. Turning its head slightly, it snarled, exposing wickedly long teeth. This fight was not over yet. The demon pushed itself to its feet and staggered forward. Black blood streamed down its chest from multiple wounds and dripped heedlessly to the floor—there was only one thing on its mind.

  It wanted to eat her soul!

  The ground vibrated as the demon thundered forward and in that moment, Ryver knew this was the end. She had channelled more magic than ever before and her physical reserves were waning. There was little energy left in her young body to combat this hell-spawned creature, but still she wasn’t going down without a fight.

  Ryver’s hand strayed unconsciously to the pendant around her neck as she braced for impact. A strange calmness filled her mind as the stone pulsed beneath her shirt. She raised her hand and the warm flow of magic ran through her fingers. The magical energy shot through the air toward the demon, but instead of blue lightning, cords of black energy punched a bloody hole through the demon’s chest, striking the altar behind it and shattering it into a thousand small fragments. For a brief moment, Ryver thought the energy took the shape of an oriental dragon.

  The demon stopped dead in its tracks, staring down at the gaping hole in its chest. Still intent on killing her, its depthless black eyes refocused on its prey and it snarled, before coughing a mouthful of dark blood onto the floor. Wavering, it fell slowly forward, crashing to the floor in a pile a black fur and thick limbs.

  Ryver’s physical reserves were drained and her head spun. She staggered to the wall, leaning against it for support, still gripping the Dragon Stone under her shirt. Her thoughts swam wildly.

  Holy shit! I just killed a demon!

  CHAPTER 7

  Ryver leaned on Liam’s shoulder at the top of the basement stairs. They had felt their way through the dark without incident and were headed toward the bar’s rear exit. Her body felt heavy, as though a weight was dragging her down. The fight with the demon had drained much of her strength and her body shook with the effort to stand. She had never used so much magic before…or fought something from the demon realm. It left her vulnerable and weak.

  When she was small her grandmother told her many tales of the mystical realms and of famous witches and wizards. She tried to remember some of those tales now, but couldn’t.

  What would Grandma Lillian do? I guess it doesn’t matter…she isn’t here.

  Glancing sideways at Liam, she was amazed that he still held his composure. He looked down the corridor to where the Devils played cards and was unaware of her observations. His face was composed, but no doubt he was as numb as she was. Seeing a demon mustn’t have been easy for him.

  “I’m sorry to get you involved in all this,” she said softly. It was an effort to talk.

  “Shhh. Save it for later.”

  He was right. They weren’t out of danger yet.

  As they moved forward, Liam swayed under the effort of holding her weight. She was a lot taller than him and she guessed too heavy for his thin frame to carry, but he didn’t complain.

  Pausing at the open doorway, they listened to the men playing cards. They sounded oblivious to the happenings far below them. She sighed with relief.

  Did they even know about the demon?

  A hulking form stepped into the corridor and towered before them. It was Bull. “What the fuck?”

  “Back!” shouted Liam, but in her condition there would be no escape.

  Magic.

  Ryver gripped the Dragon Stone at her chest and closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind as her grandmother had taught her. The stone’s warmth built in her hand as footsteps pounded toward them. Her eyes flicked opened, they were now two black orbs as she focused on the men before her.

  Bull’s face contorted into a bestial sneer and h
is body was changing and mutating as he came. More men entered the corridor from the card room and followed their big companion.

  She felt a satisfying release in her body as long smoke-like tendrils snaked out from her raised hand, whipping toward the men. In slow motion, she saw the realization on Bull’s now fur-covered face as he came in fast. The first tendrils struck the big thug hard, knocking him off his feet and throwing him into the men following—all of them went down under the man’s hulking weight.

  BOOOM!

  A bullet slammed into the wall near her face, spraying her skin with piercing fragments. Her sight focused on the man standing further down the corridor, in the storeroom’s doorway. He was aiming a pistol at her. She cleared her mind and was amazed that she could see the smallest details in slow motion—the slight shake of the gunman’s hand, a bead of sweat on the side of his face, his finger squeezing the trigger...

  “No!” she screamed. The dark tendrils lashed out again, striking the gunman’s chest and passing through him, splattering the surrounding walls in red. There was shock on the man’s face as his gun fell from his dead hand and he collapsed to the floor.

  “Let’s go,” said Liam, trying to drag her forward.

  Ryver glanced down at Bull as they hobbled past. His face was now totally covered in dark brown fur and foot-long horns had sprouted on both sides of his head. More demons! The pile of entangled men stirred as Ryver and Liam moved past.

  Moments later, the fresh night air washed over her. They were outside, and they had to keep moving. The passing car lights seemed too bright and forced her to close her eyes. She staggered on, stumbling several times and would have fallen if it wasn’t for Liam’s support.

  Slowly, her vision faded and the darkness swamped her sensors, dulling her mind. She fought to remain conscious, but it was one fight she couldn’t win.

  “Ryver, Ryver…” said a distant voice. “Ryv…”

  Then, she knew no more.