The Book of Shadows

Chapter Eight: The Dragon's Den

Chapter Eight



Red-faced and shirtless, Aiden's father leaned against the door jamb and owlishly peered at his son's friends. Awkwardly, they waved and politely greeted him. Ralph Marbury ignored these pleasantries and instead focused on his only son. "Aiden, I need you downstairs." Tristan could smell the alcohol oozing from his pores, the man was practically pickled. "Why? Can't you see I have friends over?" Crossing his arms defiantly, Aiden glared at his drunken father.

"You should be at school, but if yer gonna stay home then you'd better make yourself useful..." Ralph's eyes narrowed as the thinly veiled threat hung in the air. The tension in the room was so thick, everyone grew uncomfortable as the silence stretched on.
"FINE." Snapped Aiden, jumping to his feet. "But I get half of the commission. Plus tips." Raising the bottle to his lips, his father mulled it over. Eventually he wiped his mouth and nodded. "Alright. But you'd better do some good work." Aiden stormed out of the room, brushing past Ralph. "I do better work than your wasted ass." He growled as he stomped away. "What did you say to me, boy?!" His father roared, staggering after him.

The two yelled at each other as the three teens stared at each other, listening as the sounds faded. Shaking his head, Dylan got up and starting collecting the trash. "I knew there was a reason we didn't go to Aiden's much." Tristan opened the pink flip phone and saw an old text message from Clara asking if he was okay. "Sucks his dad is such an asshole."

Clara grabbed a wooden puzzle box and started playing with it. "Yeah... Ralph hasn't been the same since Aiden's mom left." Struggling to solve it, she frowned in concentration. "So I was talking to Kevin during Chemistry, turns out he was up most of the night what with the sheriff and all..." The carved blocks shifted and clicked as she continued.

"They combed the barn and part of the surrounding fields, but didn't find the angry cow that tried to kill us. In fact, they were convinced we made the whole thing up."

Tristan glanced at her in disbelief. "You're telling me they found nothing?"

Shrugging, Clara kept twisting the toy. "I mean, they looked at the symbol scratched into the wall. And there was the broken gate, but they insisted the bull could have done that."

Dylan dumped the garbage into a waste bin and sat back in his bean bag. "We know what we saw. They just suck at their job."
Shaking her head, Clara squinted as she tried to solve the intricate box. "I'm not so sure. Kevin said the sheriff and deputy were pretty thorough."

"What do you mean?" Dylan and Tristan stared at the girl as she played.

"He said that every cow was accounted for, aside from the bull."

"So what?"

She stopped her efforts and looked them in the eye.

"So Kevin thinks that whatever was in the barn that night, wasn't one of his animals."

The boys grimly thought this over as Clara fought with the toy until something gave way and it fell apart. "Ha! I win." She beamed, looking around to see if the others noticed her accomplishment. If they did, it wasn't acknowledged as moody faces pondered the increasingly disturbing events.

Sighing, Clara unzipped her fraying pink backpack. Charms and trinkets jingled from her wrists as she delved into the chaos within, emerging with a slim green notebook. "Maybe we should review what we know so far."

Flipping through pages of notes, the blonde girl muttered until she arrived at a particular sheet of paper. Inscribed in various colors of ink was every occurrence of Tristan's nightly wandering. Clara was extremely thorough, listing the date and time along with any details that he could remember about each instance, going back to when he was eight years old.

"Let's see..." Clara bent over the notebook and squinted at the words. "First time was nine years ago... By Hawthorne's Ridge..." Running a finger down the list of dates, she frowned. "Next time was about six years later, when we were camping on Falcon Peak." Dylan nodded thoughtfully. "I remember that night. Everyone was convinced you rolled off the edge, since even your sleeping bag was gone."

For some reason, that morning Tristan found himself under a withered apple tree and on the Mathesons' bad side ever since. A nasty blight took hold of the orchard that year, threatening to devour even the youngest of saplings. If not for the other farmers' valiant efforts, the Matheson orchard would've been irreparably crippled. Tristan was blamed for the affliction despite any attempt to prove his innocence. Naturally, his friends responded to this prejudice by stealing fruit any chance they could. It soon became an annual tradition, which grew increasingly more difficult as the vengeful farmer added new security measures each year.

Tristan stopped reminiscing as Clara continued. "Two years later on Halloween night, after you got caught egging Old Man Richards house... Police stuffed you in the squad car and went after the rest of us, but you managed to vanish before they came back."
"Yeah, I woke up in a dumpster on the other side of town. Ruined my favorite hoodie, too." It had belonged to his father, one of the precious few things he'd inherited.

"That's about when it started..." Peering at the list, Dylan pointed at a date. "When we found the cat on the way to the bus stop?"
Clara shook her head in disgust. "What was left of it, you mean." Yanking the book away from Clara, Tristan ignored her protests and examined the timeline in frustration.

"All we really know is that it's getting more frequent. Not to mention the... thing prowling around." He shuddered.

"Can I take a look at the amulet?" Dylan eyed him hopefully. Tristan shrugged and removed the silver chain from around his neck. Instantly he felt vulnerable. The uncomfortable sensation of nakedness swept over Tristan as he watched his friend examining the amulet curiously. "It's a lot heavier than you'd expect." Remarked Dylan, turning it over in his beefy hands. "Uh huh... Can I have it back?"

Tristan said nervously as he became increasingly aware of a familiar presence, pressing against his consciousness. It was very faint yet tangible, oozing in the back of his brain like a slug. "Hold on, I want to see." Clara butted in. Fidgeting in discomfort, he perceived the entity growing more attentive. In his mind's eye, the snaking yellow tongue crept ever closer. A desperate gnawing ache tormented the creature, driving it tirelessly forward... Searching for its prey...

Snatching the heirloom back, Tristan threw the chain around his neck and sighed in relief as the sinister being was tuned out.
"Geez you could have just said something, Mr. Grabby." The snide tone matched her disapproving glower, a look which Clara perfected over the years.

"I... I felt it just now." Wide-eyed and dazed, he clutched the amulet tightly. "I could almost see it."

Dylan and Clara looked at each other.

"Wha- what did it feel like?" Dylan swallowed nervously. Tristan's knuckles whitened around the silver eye as he responded. "Hungry."
Stuffing the green notebook in her backpack, Clara zipped it up. "Well things are certainly taking a turn for the worse... I think it's time we bring in someone from the outside."

"Things are already complicated enough..." The chubby teen complained, rubbing his face. "Besides, all the adults would just call us crazy."

As his nerves settled, Tristan took a few shaky breaths. Dylan had a point but he wasn't the one who was trapped in the bathroom with that... thing.

"I didn't say anything about adults." Clara muttered mysteriously. Rolling onto his stomach, Dylan let loose a few groans of protest. His muffled voice rumbled out from the bean bag. "Don't tell me you are thinking about Julie..."

Crossing her arms, the irritated girl kicked the misshapen orange blob. "First of all, what's your problem with my cousin? Secondly, she knows more about this sort of thing than all of us combined. Thirdly, I don't see you coming up with any ideas!" Dylan arose from the amorphous seat and swatted at her angry foot. "Knock it off, will ya? Fine, let's go see your weirdo hippy relative. Hey!" He dodged a final jab.

As they left, the trio bumped into an ink stained Aiden. “Everything alright?” Tristan asked, even though it was apparent things weren’t. Wearing a sour face, Aiden muttered something intelligible and waved them away. “It’s not your problem, don’t worry about it.” He grunted, wiping his colorful hands on a rag. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Tristan knew that expression, it meant that Aiden was dangerously close to losing his temper and decided to drop the matter. “We’ll be at the Dragon’s Den, see you later man.” Nodding, Aiden opened the door for his friends and locked it behind them. As he walked down the street, Tristan heard voices shouting inside and sadly shook his head. “I can’t imagine having to deal with that every day.” Dylan said, kicking a rock off the sidewalk. “He never talks about it.” Clara sighed, shoving hands into her pockets.

“It’s a guy thing.” Tristan shrugged. “We don’t talk about our problems. It’s not very… manly?” “Well it’s stupid.” Clara huffed. “Wait a second!” Dylan frowned, stopping in his tracks. “I always tell you guys about my problems. Does that mean I’m not manly?” Clara and Tristan looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Aw come on guys, it’s not funny. Guys? Hey wait up!”

The Dragon’s Den was only a few streets away, tucked behind a hardware store which shared a parking lot between them. Above the glass storefront was a massive painted sign, depicting a green scaly dragon sitting atop a mound of books. An enormous jet of flame spouted from its mouth, the words “Dragon’s Den” written over the orange fire.

The scent of incense saturated every inch of the bookshop, making Tristan’s eyes water.
Rows of shelves stretched out before him, holding not only books but mysterious statues and curious baubles. There were numerous dragons along with Norse, Greek and Egyptian gods guarding crowded shelves. It was hard not to find something interesting to see, from intricate wooden puzzles to pirate ships in bottles, candelabras, coffee mugs, cauldrons and clocks.

Tristan was lost from the moment he set foot inside. He had no idea where to look, head spinning in every direction, soaking in the details and obsessing over various artifacts. “This place is amazing!” He glowed with excitement as he darted from shelf to shelf, eyes feasting on everything in sight.

“Careful, we’ll lose him…” Dylan sighed, turning to Clara. She was nowhere to be seen. “Probably got eaten by one of these dragons.” He muttered, looking irritably at one of the aforementioned lizards. Its ruby eyes glittered at him as he glumly shuffled along.

“Would be nice if people learned a valuable skill called communication.” Dylan muttered as he ventured deep into the belly of Dragon’s Den.

Tristan was delighted and confused by the way everything was arranged. There appeared to be no rhyme or reason to the genre or title of books that lined the walls. It jumped from popular fantasy to cookbooks, historical novels were next to D&D manuals, and he even found comic books wedged between novels on psychology.

Perhaps it was a clever way to keep people looking around. It certainly worked on him. He wandered past twiggy broomsticks and bundles of sage, crystal necklaces and animal bones. The shelves here were slightly more dusty, cobwebs dangling from places out of reach.


He caught sight of an ornate mirror, drawing closer to examine the detailed frame. Tristan glanced into it, then shrank away, remembering a twisted face sniffing behind him. The memory crawled over his shivering skin, the forked tongue convulsing in anticipation…

Backing away from the glass, he bumped into someone reading. A familiar pair of green eyes looked up from a book and widened. “Tristan?!” Mona blurted out. “What are you doing here?” He said, just as bewildered.
She closed the book shut and gently placed it back on the shelf. ‘Methods of Divination’ read the spine. “I’ve been trying to find you.” Mona said and placed her palm on his forehead. “What are you-“ She shushed him and whispered something under her breath. “There.” Mona smiled, relieved. “Now it should be easier.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at school?” He frowned in confusion. She shot him an exasperated look. “First of all, school has been over for an hour. Secondly, I happen to work here. But none of that matters because you are being tracked right now by a demon.”

Tristan struggled to comprehend all this, part of him insisted Mona was talking crazy but something in him whispered that she had the answers he was looking for.

He swallowed.

“Whatever that… thing is… can you help me get rid of it?” He asked hopefully.
Mona shook her head sadly. “You have no idea what you got yourself into, do you?” He didn’t need to say anything, those green eyes could see right through him. “This really is the worst case scenario.” She fretted, biting her lip. “Tristan?” Dylan called out nearby. Mona put her hand over Tristan’s mouth before he could reply. “You need to listen and listen well.” She hissed.

“This is not a game or some kind of prank. People are going to die if you don’t follow my instructions.”
Mona stopped, staring at him intensely. He nodded as his thoughts whirled.

“Get away from your friends and go someplace safe. Don’t tell them anything, they know too much already. Anybody close to you is in danger right now. And whatever you do, don’t go anywhere tonight. Understand?”
Tristan bobbed his head in assent.

“The next time I see you, I want you to tell me everything. And I will tell you all that I know as well. If you can stay alive tonight, you just might get the answers you seek.”

Removing her hand, she placed both hands on his shoulders and closed her eyes, whispering. Tristan managed to catch some of it, but it was an unknown language.

“…Ólympo kai o Ádis káto,

Prostatépste ton apó ekeínous pou tha ton vlápsoun étsi…”

He felt a warmth wash over him, and then the sensation faded. Mona opened her eyes and smiled wryly. “That should give you some protection, I hope.” He felt as his head would burst from all the questions bouncing around. “What… are you?”

She tilted her head. “If you must know, I’m a witch. Well… witch trainee.” She pushed him before he could open his mouth. “Now go!”

Stumbling out of the aisle, he looked back to see Mona smiling sadly at him. “Tristan!” Dylan was rushing towards him. “Where the hell have you been? I can’t find Clara anywhere either, it’s getting late and-“
Tristan interrupted him. “We have to go. Right now.” Dylan threw up his hands. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! We gotta get home! If my parents call the school they are gonna figure out I’m suspended and my dad is gonna bury me in the flower garden and-“ He was starting to hyperventilate as sweat beaded his forehead.

Grabbing the panicking boy, Tristan shook him. “Calm down dude! Go outside and call Aiden, I’ll grab Clara.”

“If y-you w-w-would let me talk…” Letting him go, Tristan watched as Dylan took a deep breath. “Clara and Aiden are waiting in the jeep. What were you doing, running off like that?”
Making his way towards the exit, Tristan thought about what Mona had told him.

“Just getting some answers.” He replied quietly as Dylan plodded after him.

*****

Everyone was freaking out, except for Aiden who seemed unusually calm. “Guys, we have plenty of time to get everyone home.”

Clara and Dylan focused on Tristan as the jeep sputtered down the streets of Greyhollow. “What took you so long in there? I set up a reading with Julie but we couldn’t find you.”

Tristan shrugged. “Sorry, I guess I just got carried away exploring the place.” He desperately wanted to share his findings but Mona’s words of warning forced him to bite his tongue.

“Reading?” Aiden inquired.

“As in tarot cards.” Clara explained, testily. The driver snorted in contempt. “You mean you believe in that bullshit?”

“After everything we’ve seen, you draw the line at fortune telling?” Dylan raised an eyebrow.

“All I’m saying, is that I had my palm read one time and it was just a big scam.” Aiden retorted, stopping at a red light. Ignoring the back and forth, Clara narrowed her eyes at Tristan. “What gives? Did something happen in there?”

Acting nonchalant, he smiled nervously. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” This just seemed to deepen her suspicion. “I know you better than you think, plus you suck at lying.”

He shrugged and again denied her accusations. “Fine, have your secrets.” Clara glared at him and
crossed her arms. Up front, Dylan and Aiden were arguing over whether divination was real or not.

“Clara, it’s your stop!” Aiden called out and pulled into her driveway. She grabbed her backpack and said
goodbye to everyone, making a note of ignoring Tristan. “You sure pissed her off.” Aiden grinned at him.

“Women, right?” He said weakly. Dylan and Aiden looked at each other. “So… are you going to tell us?” Dylan inquired with a frown.

Tristan swallowed. “Uh… what?”

Aiden slammed a hand on the steering wheel, calm demeanor crumbling. “Seriously, man?! Don’t try to bullshit us.” He glowered and spun the wheel sharply, slamming on the gas. Dylan gripped the roof handle fearfully. “Let’s all just calm down…” He winced as Aiden sped through a yellow light split seconds before it turned red.

Tristan shrank down in his seat as the eye of wrath burned in the rearview mirror. “Stop trying the innocent act, you OWE us.” If there was one thing Aiden hated, it was being lied to. Dylan turned to Tristan, pleading. “I don’t want to die today, just tell him!” He whimpered as the jeep whipped around a corner on two wheels.

Don’t tell them anything, they know too much already. Anybody close to you is in danger right now.


Mona’s ominous words still rang in his ears. Tristan closed his eyes to the maniacal driving and shook his head. “I- I can’t right now… You guys have to trust me, I would tell you if I could.” The engine hummed like bees swarming in fury, wind whistling past as Aiden’s knuckles whitened. “Trust you? I don’t think YOU trust US!” A horn blared as the jeep cut off a pale blue station wagon. “Tristan…” Dylan called out, panic wavering in his voice.

“You have to believe me!” Tristan shouted over the roar of the motor. Aiden laughed, a touch of insanity gleaming in his eyes. “I only believe what I see and hear!” Dylan was gripping the handle with both hands. “We are going to be seeing the afterlife if you DON’T SLOW DOWN.” He yelled at the driver, who was smiling broadly. “Guess we are going to find out!” Aiden cackled madly.

Tristan kicked the driver seat anxiously. “Aiden! AIDEN THAT’S A STOP SIGN.” He screamed as the jeep and its occupants hurtled towards imminent destruction.

With an ear piercing screech the brakes kicked in. Tires skidding, the vehicle bounced once, twice, then finally came to a halt. The acrid smell of burning rubber stung Tristan’s nose as he struggled for breath.

“How do you like the new brakes?” Aiden beamed at his horrified passengers. Dylan said nothing, but pointed a shaking finger at a pair of flashing lights approaching.

Wheezing, Tristan coughed out a laugh as Aiden’s smile turned into a grimace.