The Box Omnibus #1 (The Box, The Journal, The Sword)

by Gaudet, Christina G.

  I snort. “Like I’ve said, I don’t scare easily.” He grins and opens the door. “Wait, why do you ask? Where are you taking me?”

  He pulls me through and then glances around the hall behind us to check if anyone’s watching before shutting the door. Just like a murderer might do. Why am I still not afraid?

  Don’t get me wrong, my heart’s going crazy, but it’s from excitement not fear. How many times in your life will a cute guy you’ve only just met steal you away and take you to someplace special?

  Yeah, I can see how crazy I’m being. I should have started running and screaming long ago, but I can’t go now. Not until I find out what’s up the stairs in front of us. They’re the only thing in the tight space behind the door, and they wind up and around in circles further than I can see.

  He moves ahead of me and starts taking the stairs two and three at a time. Soon I’ve lost sight of him, though he pokes his head back around the bend after a few seconds to check on me.

  “Coming?” he asks.

  After something like five flights of stairs, I start to think I’ve made a mistake. At around eight, I’m ready to collapse. The problem is, I don’t know how many flights I’ve actually gone up or how many more there are to go because there are no actual levels. It’s a continual spiraling staircase with no sign of an end and no way out other than going back down.

  I’m about to give up and sit down for a while when I finally catch up with my tormentor. He’s perched on a step with all of his weight on his toes while he plays with the dirt on the stairs with his finger. When he sees me, his grin returns and my annoyance at how far I’ve walked washes away.

  But when I look past him and see the stairs lead to a solid stone wall, I nearly lose my shit. All of this way for a wall? What is he playing at?

  “I’ll help you,” he says as he completely misreads my expression. “It’s not as high as it seems.”

  High? I follow his gaze up to the ceiling where a block of wood is shifted to the side revealing an opening about the size of one of my old high school’s ceiling tiles. I can’t see much beyond the hole, but I can tell there’s a source of light and a refreshing breeze coming from the space.

  “How do you get up there?” I ask. “Is there a ladder around or something?”

  “Don’t need one. Here, I’ll lift you.”

  His hands go around my waist and freeze there for a second too long. I check to see what the problem is, but as soon as I do, he ducks his head down and lifts me into the air. Could he have been blushing? It’s just my waist after all. It’s not like he grabbed my butt or anything. Though I’m not sure I’d mind if he did.

  Even with the boost, I can’t reach the ceiling. “I’ll need to stand on your shoulders,” I say. “Think you can handle my weight?”

  He chuckles in a flattering way and tells me, “Go ahead.”

  I’m able to push the wood further out of the way to widen the hole before pull myself up with all of my strength. After a second of wishing I’d spent any amount of time working on my arm muscles, the struggle becomes a whole lot easier. He must have used his magic somehow because he gives me another couple of feet of height, making the climb into the room a cinch.

  I planned to watch him to find out how he manages to climb up here on his own, but the moment I make it inside and take my first look around the room, I forget to turn back around.

  The room is small, though maybe a bit wider than the space I’d just climbed out of. Unlike below, this room’s floors and ceiling are all made of wood. The walls only reach up as high as my hip before they break away to open air, giving a perfect 360 view of the city and countryside beyond.

  I walk to the edge and lean over the wall to stare straight down for a second before I become dizzy and have to take a step back.

  “Wow.” There’s no other word for it. Just, “Wow.”

  “You like it?”

  I gaze over to assure him I do, and am rewarded with the fright of my life. He’s not only leaning over the wall to get a better view, but he’s standing on the thin ledge. He’s not even holding onto one of the roof’s support beams to keep himself from toppling to his death.

  It takes me a few seconds of heavy breathing to push my heart back down my throat and find the words, “What are you doing?” I’d love to reach over and pull him back inside, but I’m afraid if I move at all, it will cause him to fall.

  My terror surprises him and he doesn’t seem to know how to respond. Emotions flash across his face, but I’m unable to read any of them. His expressions end with one I’ve become familiar with, his wide smile. He leans further over to throw his head back to laugh and I make a choked noise in response.

  “It’s okay.” He hunches down onto his toes. “I have good balance, see?”

  “Great.” At least he’s not as precarious as he had been, but I’ll still feel a whole lot better once he’s safely inside and behind the walls. I reach over and grab his shirt. “Now get down before you slip and die.”

  He laughs some more, but doesn’t fight me as I pull him back into safety. “Better?” he asks once I’ve moved him to the centre of the room.

  “What were you thinking?” I slap his shoulder and he peers at the spot I’d hit him with curiosity. “You could have fallen. In fact, there’s no way what you did is possible. You should be dead right now. No one has such a good sense of balance.”

  He shrugs and walks over to a pile of pillows and silk cloth surrounded by piles of books and various other objects I hadn’t noticed when I first came in. Everywhere I look, there’s more stuff. A wooden rocking horse, a silver statue of a man in a heroic pose, a doll with an arm missing, and a china tea pot to name a few of the items I see mixed in with plenty more blankets and cushions.

  The more I look, the more the place feels like a nest rather than a person’s home. My eyes fall back on the boy who led me up here and I realize he’s been watching me the entire time. He’s trying to figure me out as much as I’m trying to understand him. The difference is he’s way more of a mystery.

  “Who are you?” I ask.

  Chapter Seventeen

  He relaxes onto cushions and closes his eyes. “I don’t want to tell you.”

  “Are you serious?” I pick up the doll and wave it at him. “You drag me all of the way up here, away from Farah who could be hurt or in trouble, you force me to watch as you try to throw yourself off a tower, and now you say you don’t want to tell me who you are.”

  In an instant, he’s at my side. I think he’s going to try and calm me down and I’m going to respond by telling him to bite me, but it turns out he just wants the doll back. I’m too surprised to fight him for it, and he’s able to return it to the exact spot where I’d picked it up after checking to make sure I hadn’t damaged it.

  “This is unbelievable.” I pace around the space for a minute as he moves always a couple of steps ahead of me, pushing the block of wood into place so I won’t fall down the trap door and moving various items out of the way so I won’t kick or trip over them. “What am I doing here? You’re a complete stranger. Keyword, strange.”

  I rub my suddenly pounding temple and wonder what the hell I’ve been thinking. How could I be so casually putting off the trip to Victor? How could I forget about Rilla’s spell and the fact my head might explode at any moment?

  “I need to go,” I say. “I have to find Farah and give the headmaster the tools to destroy the world. I don’t have time for this.”

  “Don’t go yet.” He touches my shoulder as though he wants to force me to stay, but his hand slides away the moment I glare at him. “Stay for a—wait. What?”

  “I have to find Farah?”

  He shakes his head. “The part about the headmaster.”

  I can’t believe I’d been able to forget about this headache. It feels like a brick is being repeatedly smashed into my brain.

  “It’s a long story,” I say. “And honestly not one I’m going to share with someone who won’
t give me his name.”

  “It’s Dragon,” he says with a dismissive wave. “Now what were you saying about the headmaster?”

  I stare at him, trying to figure out if what I’d heard was right. I can’t begin to imagine what it might mean if it is.

  “Dragon?” I ask. “Your name is Dragon?”

  “Yes. Well, sort of.” He flaps his hand again to show it doesn’t matter. “I don’t actually have a name. That’s what people have taken to calling me. Now, about the headmaster?”

  “Why do they call you that?” I somehow manage to ask, though I know a lesser girl would be speechless. “A nickname you earned, maybe? Because you’re fearless with heights.”

  “You’re not going to tell me anything more about the headmaster, are you?”

  My blank expression is answer enough.

  He slumps and takes a step away from me. “They call me Dragon, because they’re too unoriginal to come up with another name. It’s much like a person calling their cat, Kitty, or their chimera, Chimera. Happy?”

  Neither of us moves for a long time, as though we’re both afraid of scaring the other off. And then I lurch forward at speeds I never knew I was capable of and start examining him as closely as I can. I lift his arm to feel the weight, and poke his face to see if his skin feels like scales. The examination ends with me grabbing his butt to check for a tail.

  He’d calmly put up with the rest, but apparently the ass grab was too much. He catches both of my hands and holds them away from his body.

  “What are you doing?”

  His grip is too gentle and I’m able to slip one of my hands free to once again touch his face. He grabs it again, this time by the wrist and tightens his grip.

  “Stop it,” he says. “And stop smiling at me like that. It’s unsettling.”

  No chance of me getting rid of the grin any time soon.

  “But you’re you,” I say. “You’re it. I mean... Rawr and flying and fire and eating people and kidnapping princesses and...wait.” I give him a sideways glance. “Why do you look and feel human?”

  “It’s easier to move around like this.” He nods toward my hands and gives me a pointed expression. “Promise to behave?”

  “Nope.” My wink earns me a scowl. “I guess I can try though.”

  He lets go and steps back to take a seat on the wall. “Now explain to me the part you were saying about the headmaster.”

  “Wait.” I shake my finger at him. “You tell me you’re a dragon, and I’m supposed to believe you? No proof. Even though everything about you says wizard, or maybe somehow a sorcerer, though if you’re living here, I think dragon might be more likely.”

  He rolls his shoulder and neck as though working out a pain, which I think might be me. “If I give you proof, will you answer my questions?”

  “Sure.” He’s been lying to me, so it’s time to return the favor. “Why not.”

  “Okay,” he says. “What about this?”

  Without moving any part of his body, he lifts off the wall and hovers in the air for a few seconds before settling back down on the floor.

  As cool as it is to see someone fly, I can’t let him think I’m so easily impressed.

  “No good.” I cross my arms. “A wizard with enough magic could easily do the same.”

  His lips press together as he tries to think of something else to show me.

  “Oh.” He jumps up and rushes at me to shove his face into mine. “How about these?” He opens his mouth and shows me his teeth. There are an impressive number, many more than any human, including at least eight more canine teeth, and possibly more shadowed in the back of his mouth. “A wizard wouldn’t have these.”

  “You can mimic our form, but not our teeth?” I shake my head. “Not believable. More likely you were born a freak than a dragon.”

  He throws his arms up. “What more can I do, besides shift right here?”

  Finally we’re getting somewhere. “That would work.”

  It takes him a minute to speak as he processes what I’ve said. “You want me to shift into my dragon form?” He says the words slowly, as though I’d be unable to comprehend if he spoke faster.

  “Sure,” I say. “But no illusions. Those are my specialty. I’ll be able to see through one easily.”

  He opens his mouth as though to say something, and then chooses to scratch his head instead.

  “If you can’t,” I say, “You might as well admit it now.”

  “Of course I’m able to.” He paces around the room, avoiding all of his random objects without seeming to ever check to see where he’s stepping. “It’s you I’m less sure about. You may not be afraid of me now, but my true form is less inviting.”

  He’s considering it. He’s actually considering it. Okay. Calm down, Sin. No jumping up and down or squealing. Play this cool.

  Without any hesitation, without blinking, I step up to him and say, “Try me.”

  He studies me for a long time, as though waiting for me to start sweating. No such luck. To see a real life dragon, I’d stand here without wavering for days.

  When he shakes his head, not only my stomach, but every organ inside me sinks and I feel a hundred pounds heavier.

  “If you faint...” is all he says before I do exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid. I flip out by jumping and squealing and I’m pretty sure I hugged him, though it happened so fast I can’t be positive.

  By the time I manage to grab hold of myself, some of his worries appear to have melted away. He steps onto the wall and turns back to make sure I haven’t changed my mind.

  I give him a thumbs up, though I have to admit, I’m worried. What if this whole thing was actually a weird attempt to impress me? What if he isn’t actually a dragon and he feels he’s too far into the lie to stop? I don’t know him, after all. He could be mentally unsound. He could be about to fling himself out of a tower to his death.

  I’m about to tell him to stop when he leaps forward, his arms tight by his side. In an instant, he’s gone. I lurch forward to lean over the wall, both terrified and morbidly interested to see his broken body. But he never hits the ground. Instead, wings sprout from his shoulder blades, and a tail stretches from his butt. His entire body shifts and grows. And grows.

  And grows.

  It’s one thing to know how large a dragon is and another altogether to be next to one. I’m sure I can’t be much larger than one of his enormous curled claws.

  He swoops around the tower a few times, easily pumping his wings as though the motion’s no different than swinging a leg or arm. When he lands, he hits the tower hard enough to make the floor shake, though I’m sure he is being as gentle as possible. The claws of his front legs dig into the wall he’d been so casually sitting on earlier and his tail wraps around one of the posts holding up the ceiling.

  Slowly, he lowers his car sized head and pokes his green scaled covered nose into the room, only inches away from me.

  I react the only way my body knows how. I pass out.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When I come to, I remember what happened and I feel like a dork. How could I have let this happen?

  The worst part is when I glance around, there’s no longer a dragon staring at me. Instead, the teen boy version hangs back as far as he can from me while looking sheepish. I’ve missed my chance to see my first and possibly only dragon, and in doing so, made him think I’m a wuss.

  “I didn’t faint,” I say as I force myself to my feet. I’m slower than usual because I’m feeling woozy and my headache is as awful as ever. “I was just so impressed I had to lie down for a minute.”

  His mouth twitches as though he’s holding back a smile. “It seemed like you fainted.”

  “You’re wrong.” Time to change the subject. “So, you’re a dragon, huh?” Smooth.

  “All my life.”

  I shake out my dress, though I’m not too worried about it being wrinkled or dirty. It couldn’t make me appear any less attractive than it a
lready does.

  “And people call you ‘Dragon?’“ I ask. “Weren’t you ever given a name by your parents?”

  “I’ve been here my entire life.” He doesn’t seem nearly as upset as I would be if I’d been stuck in one place my entire life. “I’ve never met my parents, and the wizards never believed a name was necessary.”

  “Your whole life?” The items scattered around the room have a new meaning to me now. This place is his version of a hoard of treasure. He doesn’t have gold, so he sticks to the items he can get his hands, or claws, on. “Why have you never left?”

  “Because I can’t.” His voice is darkened with emotion. “The wizards have access to powerful magic. I’m forced to stay and guard the people who keep me captive.”

  “Is there no way to break free?” I can’t believe that a few humans, even ones as powerful and sadistic as wizards can hold a dragon against his will. “Maybe there’s something I can do to help. Or, I could ask my sister. She’s a sorceress. I’m sure there’s something we could do for you.”

  “A sorceress?” His eyebrows raise in question. “Here? Might not be such a smart idea.”

  Of course not. I have no idea why I’d suggested it. I’m behaving childish and rash. I’m sure if he’d had any ideas on how he could leave, he’d have already tried them. There’s nothing illusion magic or Gran’s journal can do for him.

  “Well, you can’t keep going around without a name.” I snap my fingers. “Dray. I’m going to call you Dray from now on. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s time you explain to me what you meant about the headmaster.”

  I cringe and rub my head. “Sorry, Dray. I can’t.”

  “You can’t?” I can tell he’s pissed, but in a quiet, subdued way. “Exactly why not?”

  “Spell.” I tap my head. “Won’t let me.”

  I’d love to tell him everything. After all, it’s obvious he has some magical abilities if he can shape change and float even without wings. He might be able to help me. But thinking about it makes me feel like my skull is being chipped away by a dull axe.