Blackthorn - Revenge of The Dragon Rider

Chapter One - Hunting Dwarves

A scream exploded somewhere in the distance but broke off before it reached its terrifying conclusion.  Another life sucked dry, thought Drake, as the bitter smell of blood rolled in on the mist, along with the dead leaves and the smell of decay.  He pulled his black hood over his head and slunk back into the shadows like a black panther stalking its prey, his vivid green eyes alert, his body pumped for action.

There was a movement in the alleyway opposite, a slight rustle of paper, a scraping sound.  He stopped breathing momentarily, his hands curling into tight balls at his side as he listened harder.  Had his senses failed him, were the Shadow Walkers really that close?

A rat emerged from the darkness and scuttled across the road.  It ran halfway, stopped, sat up on its back legs and sniffed the air.  Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it fled back to where it had come from.

Drake silently exhaled and allowed his body to relax, but only a little; no, his instincts hadn’t diminished, they were as sharp as the tip of a dragon’s tail; the full-bodied stench of the blood told him that the Shadow Walkers were about four blocks away.  And if he stayed here much longer they would smell him too.

A distant clock chimed midnight.

The witching hour.  His informant should’ve been here half an hour ago.

He searched the shadows, tracing his eyes along the graffiti covered wall and the overflowing bins that ran down the length of the narrow street, right down to the last black street lamp at its end.  It had started to drizzle; he could see it falling at an angle in the light pooling around the lamps, like tiny shards of sparkling glass.

It was then he noticed a cloaked figure step into the light at the foot of the end lamp.  The figure stopped, and with a gloved hand they pulled their hood aside for a furtive glance behind them.  Satisfied that they weren’t being followed, they turned and walked towards Drake, the tip-tapping of their hurried footsteps on the wet pavement cutting through the silence of the brooding city.

Drake stepped forward, emerging from the shadow.

The footsteps stopped.  ‘Drake, is that you?’ asked the figure.

Drake removed his hood and nodded.

The figure hurried forward, greeting Drake with a smile as she came to rest beside him.  He could smell the floral notes of her perfume, it was fresh, only recently applied.  He smiled to himself.

The woman removed her midnight blue hood, letting her auburn hair cascade down around her shoulders, the drizzle catching in it like sparkling diamonds.  ‘Sorry I’m late, couldn’t get away,’ she said, taking a small white envelope from her silver handbag and giving it to him.  ‘This is what you wanted.’

‘Thank you,’ he replied, taking the envelope from her and placing it in his coat pocket.  He fetched out a small roll of green notes and handed it to the woman.

She took the notes and placed them in her bag, then clicked it shut.  ‘I thought that you might like to know that the Dwarves are out looking for the offender too,’ she said, through thick red lips, her pale blue eyes scrutinizing his every move.

‘Well, we’ll have to put a stop to that then, won’t we?’ he said smiling; a cool smile that said he’d had enough of talking.

‘Nice doing business with you,’ she said, placing the velvet hood carefully back over her head, ‘until next time.’  The woman nodded once, turned, and headed back into the night.

Drake waited until she had disappeared from sight and her footsteps had finally faded away, before he took the envelope back out from his pocket.  He tore it open, took out the piece of thin copier paper and unfolded it carefully.  Inside lay a small silver dot, no bigger than the head of a drawing pin, which Drake carefully peeled off the paper before placing it on his forehead.