His brothers were sound asleep in the room they were sharing, but he had the sense that someone was awake. Maybe it was one of those weird old guys, the ones he couldn’t understand. He eased out of bed and crept down the hall in his flannel pj’s. The wooden floor was cold underfoot but he wasn’t going back for his socks.
Not when he saw Isabelle at the bottom of the stairs. Her fair hair caught the moonlight and she glanced back when the top step squeaked under his foot. She held a finger to her lips and Nick nodded, then continued down the stairs to her side.
She must have been awakened by the same thing.
He felt excited when he reached her side, as if they were a team. Isabelle was two years older than him and a bit taller, even though Nick was the tallest boy in his class. She pointed to the back door, which was slightly ajar, and he nodded agreement.
They stepped out into the night as one and he caught his breath at the coldness of the air. He could smell the sea and the full moon cast a brilliant light. It could have been the middle of the day instead of the middle of the night. Even so, he could see zillions of stars overhead. It was so dark here, at the end of the world.
Isabelle, though, was staring into the distance. He followed her gaze and saw the old weird guys behind the mound, the one that Rafferty said had once been a cave for the Sleeper. It was hard to believe that anyone could have slept for a thousand years or so, but Marco had that mysterious smile, the one that made Nick believe. And the weird old guys were supposed to have been enchanted for that long, too. That’s why no one could understand them.
Isabelle pointed and Nick nodded. They crept toward the old guys, who were in a circle. The dew was cold on his feet, but Nick didn’t care. As he and Isabelle came closer, he could hear that the ancient Pyr were chanting. That hitchhiker guy was with them, the one he’d seen around, and he seemed to be leading the chant. Nick and Isabelle crouched behind the rubble of the cavern to watch and listen.
Nick couldn’t understand the words. Isabelle shook her head that she couldn’t either. But they both stared when red light began to swirl before the hitchhiker. He laughed lightly and moved his hands as if he was gathering it into a ball. His chant became louder and the other guys were louder, too. The red light swirled and danced, like a thousand individual lights gathered into a cloud. He spun it in his hands and the light became brighter and brighter. Nick realized that the red dots of light were multiplying.
The guy moved into the middle of the circle as the sphere became bigger and brighter. His arms were spread wide as he kept gathering it and building it. The chant was making the earth vibrate beneath their feet and Nick felt Isabelle’s hand close over his. They clutched hands as the light doubled and redoubled again, the red light illuminating the faces of the entire group.
The chant became more insistent and grew in volume. The other guys got to their feet and began to dance in a circle, stamping their feet in time with the chant. The sphere grew bigger and brighter, as if the leader was drawing the power from somewhere else. The chant rose to a crescendo and then the leader shouted with joy.
He shimmered blue, then shifted shape, becoming a dark dragon. Nick and Isabelle gasped as one, even though they’d seen the Pyr shift all their lives, and the dragon laughed as he snapped at the glowing orb of red light.
He ate it.
The light was extinguished as his mouth closed over it, then he began to shift shape rapidly. He became a stag, a rabbit, a snake, an eagle, a salamander, then a dragon again. He changed shapes so quickly that Nick didn’t want to blink in case he missed one. The leader cycled through his forms with dizzying speed, then the fourth time that he was a dragon, he leapt into the sky. He seemed to be lit from within, glowing red from the tips of his teeth, the ends of his talons and the tip of his tail. Each scale was outlined in brilliant red light.
When he jumped into the sky, the others shifted shape and followed him, an entire company of dragons soaring into the night sky. They flew straight toward the moon as Nick and Isabelle watched, transfixed. High in the sky but silhouetted against the full moon, they flew in a tight circle, seven dark dragons in a ring.
One, who had to be that leader, breathed fire from the middle of their circle, as if he was howling at the moon. Instead of dragonfire, though, Nick saw a plume of glowing red shoot from his mouth. He wished he had a telescope as the light launched itself into the distance, like a shuttle being launched from the earth. The red light spread like a plume beneath the shimmer of the northern lights, and he guessed that those tiny lights were scattering.
When they merged into the northern lights, becoming lost in the moving curtain of lime green, he understood that they were leaving.
Isabelle pointed at the circle of dragons, drawing his attention back to them. They flew in tight formation again, the leader joining the circle of his companions. Each took the tail of his neighbor into his mouth and they flew with greater and greater speed, spinning into a whirlwind so that their individual figures blurred. They went faster and faster, and there was a flash of blue-green light before they vanished completely.
It is done.
The old-speak echoed in Nick’s thoughts, though he didn’t recognize the voice or the source. He looked around, but the weird old guys were gone. They’d vanished without a trace. Isabelle shivered and they headed back to the house together.
She was the one who looked into the room off the kitchen that the old guys had shared. It was empty, so empty that they might never have been there.
“Their quest was completed,” Isabelle whispered.
Nick nodded. The weird old guys were the seven thieves who had set out centuries before to save the world from Blazion and his magick. With the magick’s return to Regalia, their mission was complete. Nick felt both sad that they were gone and glad that they’re triumphed. He and Isabelle both returned to bed and fell asleep immediately.
In the morning, the adults seemed to have forgotten that the weird olf guys had ever been there.
By lunchtime, even Nick and Isabelle had forgotten about the ancient Pyr and what they had witnessed, though they both would feel a twinge of recollection whenever they saw the full moon.
Thorolf landed hard against the ground. It was wet with fresh snow and the air was cold enough to wake him right up. He was surrounded by the wolf mates he’d been carrying, many of whom were scarred or nicked. He did a quick count to make sure he’d brought everyone through with him.
Then a man cleared his throat. It was a portentous sound and a familiar one. Thorolf was on his feet in a flash.
He winced as a flashlight beam was shone over him, into his face then down the length of him. He felt rumpled and suspicious, especially when he realized it was two police officers who had found him.
“I suppose you have an explanation for being in the park with your friends at this hour,” one said. He lowered the light and Thorolf saw that the older policeman was speaking to him, the younger one standing back. He was well aware of the way their scrutiny lingered on his jeans, his dreadlocks and his many tattoos. He ran a hand over his hair and straightened, smiling a little and trying to look innocent.
It wasn’t his best trick and he knew it.
Neither was beguiling, but there was no question that it was the best possible solution.
“Well, you see, officer, there was this party,” he began, keeping his tone deferential as he lit the flames in his eyes.