The Secret World of Dragons Read online

  ‘Ridiculous,’ argued the cat. ‘This is faster, and you really wouldn’t want to walk down over the mountainside, would you?’

  Mountainside?

  ‘I have a fear of heights,’ continued Emma. ‘This is a bad idea. I’ll fall off or –’

  ‘Emma, this is our only way to town,’ said Mystic firmly. He would hear nothing of going another route. ‘Deal with it.’

  Or what? she could not help but think.

  A loud, rumbling sound was heard down the tunnel at that moment, and wind seemed to pour into the area at a tremendous speed. Emma covered her eyes and half expected a plane to come to a stop before her, but instead a bulky, green dragon hurtled itself into the room, a row of red seats upon its back. It flew once above all their heads, its wings wide and strong, before landing beside the short stairway.

  Emma back away, frightened by the massive creature as it growled and stretched. She felt her back hit something.

  ‘Hey, watch it, would you?’

  A boy will russet-coloured hair – like hers – and a nose covered in freckles turned around to face her. A short gash travelled across his face, from one cheek to the other side of his nose, very similar to a knife wound Emma had once seen in a movie.

  ‘O-oh, s-sorry, I didn’t mean to snap,’ said the boy quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. He immediately stuck out the same hand in greeting. ‘My name is Simon Wheeler. Nice to meet you.’

  ‘Emma Reeve,’ she said shaking his hand. She felt his grip tighten for a moment, but it loosened just as fast and he smiled broadly.

  Emma’s eyes travelled to the left and past Simon, where a garnet dragon was walking towards them both. It stopped beside its master and placed its head on his shoulder.

  ‘Redfyre, murmured Simon, wrapping his arm around the dragon’s neck. He glanced at Emma. ‘How about you introduce yourself to Miss Reeve, hmm?’

  A deep rumble came from within the dragon’s throat, and Emma took a step back, gulping back her discomfort.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Simon reassured her, as he patted Redfyre’s neck. ‘He won’t hurt you.’

  Emma nodded and then smiled. ‘I-I know,’ she said nervously. ‘He just startled me, is all. I don’t … have a dragon of my own.’

  Simon looked sympathetically down at her. ‘Yes, some people don’t. You have no idea what you’re missing, though.’

  ‘But I’ve ridden … er … the train before,’ said Emma quickly.

  ‘The train?’ questioned Simon.

  Emma pointed towards the large green dragon by the stairs. Simon only laughed.

  ‘Flyer, you mean. You really don’t know your dragons, do you?’ he said with raised eyebrows. ‘Yes, I think we’ve all rode on his back, and some more than others.’ He smiled knowingly. ‘Flyer is one of the oldest and largest dragons in Dragonis. He’s been carrying people to and from Dwenin for generations now.’

  ‘Generations,’ repeated Emma. ‘That long?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Simon. ‘Much longer, actually. He’s the pride and joy of air travel here. You can’t get as much fun or excitement out of a plane in the other world, now can you?’

  He winked at Emma when he said that, and she laughed uneasily at the comment. Play it safe, she told herself. Don’t let him know why you’re here.

  ‘So, did you come alone to the station?’ he asked, his eyes curious now.

  Emma stopped her tongue before the answer poured out of her mouth. Mystic probably wouldn’t want her talking about him, or anything for that matter. She didn’t want to make this boy suspicious, but she couldn’t let him figure out her secrets either. Maybe she should just leave …

  ‘Emma!’

  On second thought, perhaps Mystic didn’t care about being seen or heard.

  ‘What are you doing?’ snapped Mystic. He looked Simon up and down. ‘And what are you doing with him?’

  Simon glared down at the cat. ‘He has a name, and perhaps you should use it more often. After all, I’ll be at the top of the racing charts before too long.’

  ‘Just because your conceited brother became champion, doesn’t mean you can join him, Wheeler,’ spat Mystic. ‘Needless to say, after trying all these years to win … and failing, you should probably give up before you hurt yourself.’

  Redfyre growled suddenly then, his wide mouth opening to reveal a sharp set of teeth. Simon grabbed his collar and yanked him back, a sour expression on his face. ‘Shut up about my brother,’ he said darkly, ‘or I’ll set Redfyre on you like the dog you are.’

  Emma was truly confused now, but she would not ask any questions to soothe her curiosity. She feared it would land her into more trouble than enough around here.

  ‘Come along, Emma,’ said Mystic, for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. ‘We have a ride to catch. We don’t have time to stay and chat with nobodies.’

  Simon was still glaring at the cat as the two of them reached the stairway. Emma was not sure about this part of the plan. She never knew that she would have to ride a gigantic beast such as this. If she had … well, she would have simply stayed where she was, Dark Rider or not. They could not have been more terrifying than this, even if Mystic had made such a big deal out of them. For all she knew, he could have made up all those stories just to frighten her into coming. They were probably just lies to keep her quiet and behaved.

  ‘Hurry up!’ said Mystic impatiently, dashing up the stairway and jumping onto one of the seats. He waited there for her.

  ‘Simple,’ she told herself firmly. ‘This is simple. Just like a circus ride … like riding an elephant.’

  She swallowed nervously and began walking up the stairway, but not without noticing the shiver that travelled through the dragon’s body and wings as it stood, waiting for its passengers.

  It was not so bad, she could not help but consider as she sat down beside Mystic. Not as bad as going to a new school for the first time. She could deal with this.

  Flyer’s wings were stretching again, and the row of seats trembled. Emma instantly clasped her hands onto the railing surrounding the seats, fearing that she might fall. The dragon was rising now, its wings beating madly in the tunnel, until it was completely turned back to face the exit. With a snarling roar, it shot down the tunnel like a speeding bullet.

  Emma was thrown roughly back in her seat, her hands slipping from the railing and her heart pounding frantically. The wind swept her hair back, and her eyes could barely stay open from the force of air rushing at her.

  Flyer burst from the black tunnel and light blasted Emma’s sight. She closed them for a few seconds, breathing heavily and shaking.

  ‘You can look now,’ came the cat’s amused voice.

  Emma slowly let her hands drop away from her face and her eyelids gradually fell open, revealing a scene so astonishing that she let her breathe out all at once.

  ‘Mystic,’ she whispered, blinking at the sunlight. ‘It’s … beautiful.’

  There were green hills that rode and fell, where grass swayed like tiny dancers, and rippling, pointed mountains behind her that were splashed with white peaks. Little patches of lush, green forests grew here and there, and in the distance, in the direction of where they were headed, she could see the red roofs of many houses.

  ‘Beautiful, yes,’ she heard the cat mutter, ‘but dark … very dark.’

  Emma leaned cautiously over the railing to get a better view. ‘Is that place in the distance the town you were talking about?’

  ‘Yes, that is Dwenin,’ replied Mystic. ‘Now be silent and sit back in your seat before you fall.’

  Emma did as she was told, but kept her head over the side a little, enough to see a few riders below. She recognized one of them as Simon.

  Mystic yawned suddenly and shut his violet eyes. ‘Stay away from him,’ he ordered, and then went back to being silent.

  Emma gave the cat a strange look, but she could see that he was in no hurry to answer anything she would ask about that. It was not l
ike she would meet Simon again. She would be back home soon, or so she hoped. As enchanting as this world was, she needed to get back home to make sure her father never found out that she was gone. That was the most important thing on her mind right now. How exactly would she explain her disappearance if she did get caught?

  As Lucas Reeve pulled into the fifth driveway of Cameron Street and shut off his car, he could instantly sense that something was out of place. He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door, ready to face whatever waited – or did not await – him inside. Ever since he had arrived at work this morning, he had developed a strange feeling. He did not know what it was, but he feared something was wrong.

  That was why he had called – several times – to his house to check on Emmaline. He had not been surprised to find her at home around lunchtime. Whenever he had a hunch for trouble, he was sure to be right about it. This time, though, felt a little different, and he had even driven home early from work to see what was going on. It could have been absolutely nothing at all, but he was curious – a trait that he had regretfully passed on to his daughter, and was usually the reason he worried so much about her.

  His heart faltered when he neared the house door, for it was open, and Emma never left the door open. On further inspection, he noticed that the lock had been broken somehow. This troubled him even more. A thief, perhaps? If that was true, then Emma had lied about the person at the door, and probably didn’t even answer the door at all.

  Luke silently shut the door, wary of the house now, and glanced cautiously down the hallway. There did not seem to be anything out of place. He slowly lifted his feet, taking quiet steps towards the kitchen. He turned his head slightly and noticed the closet door was ajar, and came to a sudden halt. Opening it, he saw that only the broom was missing.

  That could have been gone for a number of reasons, though. He could have left it out yesterday by accident, or perhaps Emma had made a mess during dinnertime and had decided to clean up before he got home. Maybe she did not want him to know that she had skipped off school.

  ‘Possible,’ he murmured aloud, and shut the closet door.

  The kitchen came into view and the hair on the back of his neck rose as a shiver ran through his body. His coffee mug was on the floor, shattered in multiple pieces. The missing broom, he noticed, was leaning against the wall.

  So she grabbed the broom to clean up the broken glass … and then what? he thought. His theory made no sense, as the glass was still on the floor, and the broom had not been put back.

  That was when he saw the screen door was open.

  Luke stepped through the sliding door and onto the patio outside. He looked around the garden for any sign of another clue, but he never saw anything out of the ordinary. It could only mean one thing: someone had definitely intruded the house. Whether or not Emma had ran away or … well … he did not like to think about what else could have happened.

  There was one last thing to check.

  Heading back down the main hallway of the house, Lucas took a brief glance at the porch. Her shoes were missing. That confirmed it. She had run away. He would never figure out if her pursuers had given chase, though.

  Whipping out his cell phone, Luke punched in the number for the police department. He paced back down the hallway and waited for someone to pick up … when he dared to dart a look into the piano room. His eyes remained fixed.

  Even in the dimness of the room, he could faintly see a small object lying on the floor near the piano. He cracked open the door and flipped on the light.

  He sucked in a breath of air.

  ‘Good afternoon, this is the Emburn Police Station,’ said the voice on the phone, but Luke was already lowering it away from his ear, the words now becoming quieter and quieter. ‘How may we help you today?’

  Lucas slowly made his way over to the box, which was lying on the old mat of the room, the latch on the front of the case hanging open. He picked it up with a shaking hand, and – using his thumb – pushed up the lid.

  The box was empty.

  If he had feared something bad had happened, then he had feared right. This was the worst possible thing to happen. Thieves would have suited him fine. Kidnappers? He could live with the idea … if the story ended well.

  But not this … never this.

  ‘Excuse me?’ echoed the voice on the phone. ‘Is anyone there? What is the problem?’

  Lucas held the phone back up to his ear. ‘Never mind,’ he told the woman on the other line, his voice trembling slightly. ‘There has been a mistake. Thank you for your patience.’

  He then snapped the phone shut, letting the reality of the situation sink in. He eyed the narrow box with a look of revulsion, before carefully closing it and pocketing it inside his jacket with his phone.

  Without another glance back, Lucas Reeve left the room, shrouding it within darkness once again.

  ~ Chapter Four ~

  Professor Ripley

  The town was more like a city in Emma’s eyes. The largest buildings were to the centre of the city and became smaller as they spread out. Most had red roofs, while a few were a silver colour. They reminded her of houses in Europe. There was also a cave to the far left of the city, surrounded by a forest with old, tall trees. To the very right of the town was a racetrack dug into the earth, destroying the ground and leaving a brown pathway extending far into the distance.

  Yet – as Emma peered more closely at the tracks – she noticed that they seemed old and abandoned. Grass grew wildly up through the racetracks, and the stands that once held people were now rusted and full of holes from aged destruction. Metal poles marked the start of the track, poles that had probably once been wearing flags at their tips, blowing proudly in the wind. A large building was not far from the stands, its roof sunken in and trees sprouting up from inside.

  ‘That was once the home of the greatest races on earth,’ said Mystic softly, as though he could see where Emma was looking. Perhaps the sullen expression on her face had given it away. ‘Now it is just a place for wild animals … and perhaps those who still hope for the return of the racers.’

  ‘I thought Simon was a racer?’ said Emma thoughtfully.

  Mystic growled. ‘That arrogant boy is nothing more than a street racer,’ he said irately. He quickly checked his anger. ‘There are those who do races on the side, for fun and money. The races of the past are over, though. Not that I care,’ he hastily added.

  Emma frowned at his strangeness, but didn’t ask anything more about it. She then caught sight of an enormous, steel roof to the far left of the city. A trail slanted downwards to the wide doorway of the building.

  ‘What is that place?’ she asked the tabby.

  ‘The Compound,’ answered the cat. ‘It’s a place divided into hundreds of individual sections to hold dragons while the riders aren’t riding them. They also stay there at night, while their partners are sleeping.’

  ‘You mean … the riders don’t keep their dragons at home with them?’ enquired Emma, looking at the cat.

  Mystic simply shook his head. ‘I can’t remember a time when they were not imprisoned for one reason or another … though, perhaps once, long ago …’

  The cat trailed off and Emma went back to frowning. She wished he would be more clear about things.

  ‘Besides,’ he said abruptly, causing Emma to jump, ‘so many dragons wandering around the city would only turn into a disaster. It is simply safer this way.’

  Emma dared to ask, ‘Safe for the humans, you mean?’

  Mystic chuckled. ‘No, safe for the dragons,’ he replied.

  The time for questions was now over, as Flyer started into a dive. Emma held onto the railing to keep from sliding from her seat, as the wind beat at her face, tousling her hair and causing the chain of the necklace to pound against her neck. For a second or two, she could have sworn that the Sapphire Stone had felt icy cold against her skin, but she brushed the idea away as Flyer swooped gently towards the ground for
the landing. The ramp slid down over its back and onto the dirt below.

  ‘Let’s go!’ instructed Mystic, jumping out of his seat.

  Emma hurriedly followed the cat down the ramp and onto the ground, careful not to bump into the other people that were rushing off the train as well. She arched her neck up to see two posts with a sign attached. Big, bold letters were etched across the wood, exclaiming “Dwenin, Capital of Dragonis” to all who could read. Beyond the heading was a long dirt road, which the two odd companions followed.

  Emma liked the houses here – red-roofed and made from white-grey bricks. They lined either side of the road, but none of them seemed to be houses. They looked more like shops or restaurants, with wide, revealing windows, and signs that hung over the doorways.

  ‘Stop gawking around,’ snapped Mystic. ‘People will start to grow suspicious. No one knows where you are actually from, so let’s keep it that way.’

  ‘All right,’ agreed Emma, but in no way agreeing to quit her observing of the city.

  The dirt road soon turned into a red-bricked road, and the two were approaching the centre of town – or what Emma believed to be the centre. There was a large turnaround with a tall clock tower made of crimson bricks – like the road – standing in the middle. A fountain of clear, sparkling water encircled it, bordered by flowers of various bright colours.

  Very abruptly, the clock bonged three times.

  Bong! Bong! Bong!

  Each ring dragged on longer than the last, and Emma glanced up at the noisy clock. All she saw on its face were strange runes instead of numbers.

  ‘The clock sounds at nine, twelve, three, and six,’ explained Mystic, as he sat down near the fountain. ‘Every three hours.’

  ‘Isn’t that a bit annoying?’ asked Emma, wondering whose idea it was to have such a ridiculous racket sounding so often during the day and night.

  ‘No, not at all,’ said Mystic. ‘People here don’t have clocks, so when they hear the sound, they instantly know what time it is. Right now it’s three o’clock.’