With the team all gathered, Richie turned and glared out of the front window of the restaurant. About fifty yards away, lit by a couple of street lights, she could just make out the Poultry Cross, the centrepiece of the old market place which was hundreds of years old, and their key to gaining access to the dragon domain. This was their destination.
"Okay," she stated, not at all happy. It wasn't so much taking them into the below ground dragon world that had her worried; after all, the dragons would just wipe their memories. It was the danger. If what she'd seen was going on, there was no telling exactly what they would be walking into. Turning to the very dangerous looking group, she thought of one more thing to say.
"Just one more thing before we go. You are all to do exactly as I say. Do you understand? No thinking about it, no arguments... exactly what I say... first time. However odd the instruction might seem."
They all nodded eagerly, more due to the serious look on Richie's face than anything else.
Grabbing her jacket that along with all the others had been returned, she slipped the ferocious looking knife into the inside pocket, turning to the others, all of whom were concealing their not so makeshift weapons in the same way. Leaving all the cash she had as payment, she turned to the others.
"Let's go."
As one, they strode past the other diners, all of whom weren't sure what to make of the very unusual happenings of the last half hour. About halfway to the door, Richie stopped at a table of diners, none of whom she knew. One of the two women seated was chewing some gum. Richie looked at her, all businesslike. The restaurant held its breath. Holding out the palm of her hand, Richie ordered,
"Your gum... GIVE!" Obligingly, the woman immediately spat the gum into Richie's hand. Without a word, she turned, squeezed past one of the waiters and continued on towards the exit. Another of the waiters held the front door open for them. Nodding to Taibul, he wished him, "Good luck," as he exited. Crossing the road in front of the restaurant, Richie told them all to wait. As the group stood still, the lacrosse captain sauntered over the ancient, uneven cobbles towards the Poultry Cross, all the time weaving as though she were a little the worse for wear. Her friends had no idea what was going on. Just before she reached the ancient monument, she staggered theatrically and veered sharply to one side, where she crashed into the base of a long, thin, blue pole, with a CCTV camera designed to keep an eye on the Poultry Cross atop it. In the blink of an eye, she shimmied thirty feet up the pole until she was behind the camera and, clinging on precariously with one arm at the top, she reached around and stuck the aforementioned gum right across the lens. At the same time as she released her grip, she kicked off the pole, her friends looking on, stunned, as she performed a perfect back flip and landed unharmed at its base.
Beckoning them over as she skulked into the shadows of one of the city's most recognisable features, the friends gathered round her as she stood up on the shiny, worn stone that formed a circular seat around the monument. Reaching up with both hands, she ran them along the centuries old stone, looking for two particular points. Finding an indentation shaped like an upside down tankard, she felt a finger sized groove, which she ran her longest digit along. As soon as she'd finished she turned around, jumped back down, and stood facing one of the stone pillars that formed part of the outside of the Poultry Cross. Each and every one of the friends were perplexed, but they didn't have long to wait for the answer to their unvoiced questions. In total silence, a triangular section of stone floor exactly in front of where Richie now stood, appeared to drop down and then slide back out of sight, revealing a set of worn, curved, stone steps. Without looking back, Richie stepped down, followed tentatively by the others. As soon as they'd all cleared the entrance, Richie whispered for them to all turn on their torches. They did so straight away, as the stone above them glided back into place, blocking out every last bit of light from the street lamps above. Following one another down the tightly wound spiral of worn stone steps with just the torches that they'd been given for light, the stale smell of the air they breathed became almost overpowering. Nobody said a word. They moved like this for some time, nearly an hour in fact, by which time they were nearly all panting like overworked sheep dogs, dripping in sweat. When they started, the air had felt cold, but was now something akin to a sauna, and of course there was no way they could remove their jackets and coats in such a confined space.
"Go careful now," Richie whispered, "we're just about to stop." Other than feet on steps, it was the first sound they'd heard since starting out. Janice nearly dropped her torch in surprise. They stopped, all except Richie grateful to catch their breath. It was impossible to see exactly what she was doing, but again it looked to the others as though she was scrabbling around trying to find some sort of concealed switch or contact. In a matter of moments, bright light flooded through a gap large enough to act as an exit. Richie slid through, closely followed by the others. If they'd thought it was stifling inside the stairwell, the wave of hot air that greeted them was like opening the door to a furnace. Emma nearly passed out, indeed she might have if not for Hook seeing her discomfort and removing her jacket in double quick time. Only then did the friends take in the scene around them.
Exiting from a solid stone wall that had to be a hundred feet tall, it was hard to see the ceiling or roof of the... cavern, at least they thought it was a cavern they were in. Rounded houses carved into the surrounding rock sat either side of where they stood, giant in size, disappearing off into the distance. They weren't just any houses though. The lip of the window on the house next to them came up to about the height of Hook's head. Made of rock, the front door must have been about three times Hook's size, and he was by far the biggest of the group. They couldn't help but wonder who these houses belonged to, where on earth they were and why lava flowed freely down the walls and along tiny rivulets in the middle of the street. All fought back the desire to ask the troubled looking Richie.
"Jackets off. Lose the torches, and if you have a knife... keep it handy," ordered the lacrosse captain, tossing her jacket to the ground, followed closely by the others.
"We're heading to the main bazaar which is about two thousand yards directly in front of us," she whispered. "We need to make sure we're not seen. I can't begin to stress how important this is. So we're going to go slow. I'm going to lead. Hook, you bring up the rear. Everyone else... pay attention. If I hold my fist up like this," Richie held up a closed fist, "then we all stop... dead still. Understand?"
They all nodded their agreement.
"I can't answer all your questions now, but all I can say is that if you think this blows your mind, you haven't seen anything yet. But remember, all of our lives depend on stealth. Do not, and I repeat do not, get separated. If you see anything that looks like a danger, whisper a warning to me. Okay?"
Again, they all nodded.
"Good. Let's move out."
With that, Richie, all the time crouching, moved along the building they were beside and headed straight across the next intersection, the rest of the gang following in her footsteps. Three side alleys (each about the width of a one way street) and four more significant thoroughfares later, the group hugged the side of a dusty orange bungalow with a walled off garden, that housed a chicken coop with over fifty chickens in it. The noise and smell were overpowering, the heat, stifling. Richie leaned against the wall and took a moment to compose herself. They were closing in on the bazaar, and had yet to see any dragons. Her vision, prophecy, call it what you will, was starting to look spot on. Quite a significant part of her had hoped she was wrong, that they'd have walked out from the staircase and been instantly surrounded by dragons and carted off to appear before the council. At least that way she'd have known that everything in the underground world was okay. But this... the deserted houses, the eerie quiet (apart from the occasional animal) worried her no end. Although not as much as how she was going to take on what had appeared in her vision as nothing short of a small army. Although her memory had returned for the most part, she was still stuck in the form of a human, with human strength and stamina. How she was supposed to go up against even one dragon with just a knife was frankly beyond even her. Sucking in a breath, she crouched, and checking across the street and to her left, tiptoed around the corner... straight into a humungous wall of scales. The impact left her ears ringing, but she had the presence of mind to plunge the vicious looking knife straight into the rather stunned looking dragon that stood before her. It was a great strike, having put all her power and strength behind it. Unfortunately for her, all that happened was that the reflective silver blade crumpled on impact. Standing, shell shocked, waiting for the worst, as the audible gasps and sighs of surprise from behind her got louder, it was then that it got even weirder.