“Did you hear me?”
I blinked my thoughts away.
“Ah, yes, your majesty. My apologies.” Stupidly I still clung to the hope that if I was submissive and followed rules he’d somehow find it in his heart to relent and allow me to be a challenger. And maybe, just maybe, one of the supposed challengers wouldn’t survive the landing. It has happened before. Hell, it has happened throughout history. My grandfather told me many stories about aeroplanes from the Unveiled World, crashing into our world with dead passengers and crew members still strapped in their seats. I shook my head. I was going mad. Wanting people to die so that I could revive my dead brother’s soul wasn’t right.
I entered the dragon’s lair first, hating to see her shackled, with her head facing the back wall which was black with soot. But the shackles also prevented her from roasting me in my boots.
“Hi, beautiful.”
She tensed up at the sound of my voice, shackles jangling, and blew a ball of fire against the wall, her beautiful blue-green scales rippling in the light of the flames.
With carefully placed steps, I inched closer, keeping my back to the wall, careful not to get my leg crushed by a slight swing of her tail. I extended my hand and ran it along her hind leg, my palm sliding across its large, smooth scales.
“It’s okay,” I said as soothingly as I could. “It’s okay, girl. I’m not here to hurt you.”
She stopped thrashing her body and instead tried to twist her head so that she could see me. After several failed attempts, she blasted the wall with more flames.
It hurt to see her shackled like this. I’d tried many times to free her, using swords and axes, but to no avail. Only the king and his guards held the rusted keys to the locks on her shackles.
Edging against the wall, I shifted closer to her neck, sweat dripping down my temples. Her now extinguished flames had certainly warmed my bones after a night in the freezing cold dungeon.
“It’s okay, girl,” I whispered, stroking her side. A low, deep sound rumbled in her long, scaly neck. It was an appreciative sound.
Ever so carefully, I spread my arms wide against her neck and side and rested my cheek against her cool body. I could hear her heart throb and the swish of cold blood racing through her veins. Dragon’s blood. My mother used to say that I was born on the dragon’s moon, the red moon. Born under the spirit of the dragon.
I’d spent most of my life since my brother died imagining myself at a Choosing Ceremony where all nine challengers are matched with their Dodaem animal, their guardian spirit. And I always pictured the dragon choosing me. Her own kind.
“Help me,” I whispered to her, and a low, sad sounding moan erupted from her throat and vibrated her scales against my skin. “Help me get my brother back and I will free you, sweet beast. I will free you.”
The dragon responded by belting flames against the wall, but seemed to stop suddenly—and thankfully, because I wondered if my face would melt off after anymore heat—and cocked her head to the side.
A dull roar filled my ears. Not the dragon and certainly not any of the other animals. This roar was coming from outside, from the sky.
The ground shook beneath me. Tiny stones and dust dropped from the ceiling of the enclosure onto my head and shoulders. The dragon threw her head back and, as a result, cast me off her neck.
My back hit the stone wall and I flopped to the floor like one of Ollie’s sock puppets, which he secretly slept with at night still.
Dazed and aching all over, I crawled out of the lair on my knees and elbows, hands over my ears to drown out the ear-splitting roar, only just managing to bypass the dragon without getting crushed.
Just as I glimpsed the pale blue sky, it rapidly changed to a fiery red and orange, the colour of the dragon’s flames.
Other staff members were either on their knees clutching their ears or shrieking and running for shelter. I knew my mother would be shaking her head at them and completely calm, going about her business. Because that was how she was. I wondered about the king. Was he watching this from his quarters? From the balcony? Toasting the arrival of the challengers with a glass of wine?
My stomach swirled with excitement. I’d witnessed this before. I knew what was coming but I still shouted a curse when I saw the tiny silver and red aircraft slice through the blazing sky before disappearing behind the trees that flanked the kingdom’s boundaries. I knew that a special area had been cleared so that the aeroplane could land safely. It was the same aircraft from last year. The one that belonged to the strange, lone widower who had eagerly promised the king to return with others so that he too could get his dead wife back.
“He has returned!” I heard King Cyril bellow from the northern side of the castle. “He has returned!”
5
Amber
THE PLANE SHOOK VIOLENTLY as a bright, blinding orange-red light streamed in through the windows.
But only seconds later everything stilled, as though we’d been sucked into some kind of bubble, or vortex, or, most likely, we’d been spat out of the eye of the storm. It was all happening so fast. There was no time to think.
Somebody screamed when the plane suddenly surged forward. We were dropping altitude at an alarmingly fast rate and my ear drums felt ready to burst. I gripped the armrests and prayed to Sam and to God and to my long dead grandparents, to anybody in heaven or the universe who would listen, when suddenly I felt the coarse impact of the plane’s wheels on solid earth before being thrown forward.
The seatbelt dug into my stomach. It was going to sever me in two. Something whizzed down the aisle, a metal item by the sound of the crash against the pilot’s cabin door. Most likely one of the bain-maries. I was not yet willing to open my eyes. The plane had to stop, safely, with us alive in it for me to do that.
Wails and screams filled my already aching ears. Someone, maybe Kyle, kept shouting, “Jesus!”
The plane surged ahead, the engine whines competing with the hiss of the brakes until eventually I was thrust violently back against my seat and we came to an almighty stop.
I slowly peeled my eyes open to find Claire staring at me, her eyes wide. Reece was already out of his seat and pounding on Bruce’s door. Seats were unbuckled and soon we were all on our feet. I swayed on mine for only a few seconds before stumbling back into my seat. Noah turned, his face pale.
“I thought we were going to die.”
“Me too,” I said, using my armrests to have another go at standing. This time I managed to stay on my feet.
I stared, dumbstruck, at the disarray of the once luxurious aeroplane cabin. Burst cans of Alive, food scraps, plates, and cutlery were everywhere. Luckily nobody had been forked in the eye. There were oxygen masks dangling above all our seats. They must have dropped down while I was praying for my life.
“Bruce owes me piña coladas and a beach, pronto,” Noah muttered beneath his breath.
I sighed, a heavy feeling in my stomach, as I remembered that this trip wasn’t going to be about sipping cocktails on the beach and lounging around on deckchairs. Goosebumps prickled my arms and a cold chill slid down my back as I recalled the slideshow of the dead and those words.
What if you could bring them back?
“Bruce!” shouted Reece. “Open the fuck up!”
The loudspeaker crackled to life.
“Congratulations to us all on a safe landing. This is the most wonderful day of your lives. Now, move away from the door, please.” His voice was light with joy, as though he was about to break into laughter or giggles any second. At that moment I knew how Charlie felt when he met Willy Wonka. The guy was nuts. And now we were stuck with our own version of Willy...wherever we were.
Reece turned around, looked at Rueben, then Jacob, and stepped away from the door. I’d never seen him so angry and terrified at the same time. The veins in his neck and on his forehead were pulsing but his bloodshot eyes were round balls of fear.
The door burst open and Bruce stepped out weari
ng exercise gear, revealing just how ripped and in shape he was for a man of forty odd years. He was big, like Jacob, but where Jacob had earned his muscles through hard, physical work, Bruce had most likely shaped and honed his body in a private gym with a personal trainer that probably cost him more per session than it cost the average family per week in groceries. His long blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail and white zinc coated his nose and lips. If we weren’t in such a messed up situation I probably would have laughed.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got zinc for everyone,” he said, as though that was our first concern.
Bruce made a move to step down the aisle but Reece stood in front of him, his fists clenched. But he seemed small and insignificant to Bruce’s grand physique, despite Reece’s stocky, muscular body from a lifetime of playing footy.
“We’re not getting off this plane until you explain that video you played.”
Noah, the girls, and I crowded in a little closer; I could feel Claire’s warm breath on my arm, and smell it. She still wore the same cherry lip gloss we both used to wear when we were best friends.
“Everything will be explained when we exit the plane. They are waiting for us and they know better than me.”
“You mean your factory workers?” asked Rueben, his fuzzy eyebrows coming together.
Bruce slapped his hands together and rubbed them, his light blue eyes bulging. “No. Obviously some of you missed the memo. You are not here to sample my flavoured drinks. You are here for a greater purpose.” He said this with the annoyance of a teacher repeating instructions to a bunch of dumb students. His blue eyes locked with mine and his gaze hardened, making the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. “You’ve all lost loved ones, and I have brought you to a place where we can get them back.”
He was crazy. That was the only explanation for it.
I cleared my throat. “Where are we exactly?”
Bruce nodded as though I’d done well. “We are beyond the veil. Most of you would have heard about the Bermuda Triangle during your educational years at least once.” When none of us nodded or acknowledged this, his face fell for a millisecond before he rubbed his hands together and his eyes brightened again. “This is somewhat of a Bermuda Triangle experience. But we aren’t anywhere near the Bermuda Triangle.” He nodded, his face turning serious. “One thing I am certain of, however, is that we are not in our world, the world we know and love, anymore. You will not find any country on our earth here, so I will tell you now, you needn’t waste time looking or attempting to return home. You will die trying.”
Another cold chill, like an icy feather, brushed its way down my back.
Bella started to cry. “I hate this. I just wanna go home. Take us home now!” She folded her hands across her chest and glanced across at one of the windows where golden sand stretched endlessly. Perhaps we were on an island after all. Or maybe a desert. “You know my dad will sue you for this. He’s a lawyer.” Well, he was a lawyer, until his parents died and he inherited the farm from his father. Technically, he was now a farmer.
Jacob remained silent but I could tell by the veins running along his forearms and the clenched fists that he was anything but calm.
Someone or something knocked on the cabin door from the outside.
“Ahhh, they have come to greet us,” said Bruce before gently shoving Reece away. Stocky, brick-like Reece, who had pushed little boys around his whole teenage life, stumbled back and fell against Rueben’s seat as though he was merely a soft toy.
“Who are they?” Kyle asked.
“The king of course, and most likely his son, Prince Ollie,” said Bruce, making his way to the hatch.
Bella seemed to brighten at the sound of this. She whispered something in Claire’s ear and Claire, although still pale, seemed to relax a little. She also took a tiny step away from me. I was obviously no longer needed.
“Step back, please!” Bruce shouted. “I’m opening the door.”
Bruce unlocked the hatch in several places before it hissed and, very slowly, revealed the golden world that awaited us.
Like magnets we all shuffled to the door, but none of us ran out of it.
“I can’t see!” Bella whinged. Everyone pushed and shoved each other but I stood at the back and simply gazed over the tops of everybody’s heads. My height did have its advantages.
“What is it? I can’t see,” said Noah, who stood beside me.
“An old, shrivelled-looking man wearing a blue robe and a crown. And a thin pale guy with curly hair. He’s in blue as well. And he’s got a crown. Some bigger guys, wearing...armour I think. And sand...lots and lots of it.”
“Please tell me it’s beach sand.”
It looked more desert than beach.
“It could be beach sand,” I said, and Noah sighed bleakly, most likely hearing the uncertainty in my voice.
The muscles in my shoulders and back bunched up as I watched Bruce converse with the old guy. The way the crowned man spoke seemed otherworldly. But then again any actor could have been paid by Bruce to pretend to be a king. I shook my head. But why? Why would Bruce do this? Surely nobody would crash a plane as part of an elaborate and weird publicity stunt.
Goosebumps prickled every inch of my body. My gut instinct told me we were about to step into another world, a world that was not our own. But my head kept telling me off for being so stupid. For falling for something that was probably part of a new reality TV show. Something Bruce had cooked up to make more money.
Bruce pressed a button and a metal staircase extended down to the sandy ground. He stepped aside and made a bow. “Ladies first,” he said to Claire and Bella. Claire gripped Bella’s arm and looked back at us.
“It’s okay,” said Bella. “Look, their swords are sheathed and they look...friendly-ish.”
“Swords?” someone whispered.
Claire turned around and caught my eye before taking her first step down. Then another and another. The others started to follow, leaving Jacob second to last and myself. I backed away from the door and Jacob turned to face me. He looked just as frightened as I felt inside but then he sighed and half smiled.
“Come on. You can’t stay in this plane all by yourself.”
I nodded. It was true. But the fact that the plane was our last piece of home, our link to the world we knew—if what Bruce said was true—then I was hesitant to leave it.
“Come on, Amber,” Bruce called out, his blond hair a halo in the warm sunlight. The light was low, meaning it was either a rising or setting sun.
The sounds of exotic birds filled my ears and I wondered what kind of birds could live in a desert landscape with no trees and still survive. Why wouldn’t they fly away to a more accommodating location?
I took a step forward, behind Jacob, and followed him down the rails. The sunlight blinded me for a moment and I threw my hands up to my eyes and swayed on my feet. A strong hand gripped me and at first I thought it was Jacob steadying me, but when I squinted my eyes I saw Bruce’s determined eyes staring straight into mine.
I shivered.
The others were making “oohs” and “ahs” of delight, and as my eyes adjusted to the brightness of the sun I wondered what was so wow about sand.
“It’s the truth, Amber. Believe me, you can get your brother back.” Bruce’s breath was rank with stale coffee.
I yanked my arm out of his tight grasp and, while rubbing the area where he’d held me, took a good look at the strangers below before taking another step down. The guards and the two crown wearing men were already meeting and greeting with the others so no eyes were on me and I was glad. It gave me a chance to take it all in and for my gaze to drift over the golden landscape and settle on the big freaking “wow” thing that stood several hundred meters away.
Wow, all right.
A magnificent, gleaming castle of gold and glass. It was surrounded by large stone walls that penned in not only the castle but also what appeared to be a lush jungle of green trees and plan
ts. It was so at odds with the desert I almost thought I was witnessing a mirage. A very fantastical and beautiful mirage.
A warm wind stirred the sand around us as soon as I set my bare feet on the ground, bare because I wasn’t going to wear those heels ever again.
Bella and Claire screamed and threw their hands to shield their eyes from the stinging sand.
“The Change is coming! We must move fast,” announced the king. The guards extended their arms and held their shields out so that we were somewhat protected from the beginnings of what appeared to be a nasty sandstorm. I felt bad for the guards, because they were old enough to be my grandfather, and I didn’t like that they were taking the brunt of the sand. Not that they were much of a barrier anyway. The sand still drilled into my skin like miniscule bullets.
“What about our bags?” I asked when the wind seemed to die for a minute. I was desperate for my boots and a change of clothes.
“Oh, you women,” said the younger guy, also wearing a crown, who was now stepping towards me. He held out his hand, pale and limp-looking. When I started at it one of the grandfather guards nudged me in the back, so I slipped my hand into the guy’s weak grasp, wanting to break out in a full body shiver as soon as I did. His palm was damp and sticky with perspiration.
“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ollie, Prince Ollie, and my father and I shall personally escort you to your rooms and provide you and your friends with all that you need during your stay.” Somebody coughed when he said “friends,” but I wasn’t sure who. Prince Ollie’s blue eyes drilled into mine. I was a head taller than him but something about his stare made me want to cringe and shrink away. I tugged my hand free from his and he grinned.
“I have always admired tall, warrior-like women such as yourself.” Giggles reached my ears. Bella and Claire no doubt. “But you surprised me by wanting your bags. So vapid and materialistic.” He shook his head. “But I like it. You are a mystery. An enchantress. A giant, mysterious enchantress.”
The Veiled World Page 4
