Thomas Kindercook and the Pink Pyjamas

  The gate keeper finished putting the barricades in place and came over to join their group at the side of the road.

  “You pick a great day for a stroll Gatsby.” The gate keeper said with a slight smile.

  Gatsby smiled grimly. “It started out nice. I almost finished composing a new song. I was into the third chorus, a really intricate, lilting part of my new piece when this confounded situation arose.” Gatsby let out a breath that he had been holding a while. “You closed the gates early today Glen.”

  Glen, the gate keeper, nodded slowly looking toward the gate. “I didn't like the look of the sky today. I had sort of a .....”

  “...foreboding feeling?” Gatsby finished.

  Glen nodded.

  Gatsby joined in nodding with Glen as if their conversation were being carried on silently by the synchronicity of their nodding. Thomas sat a little confused. He knew something was very wrong, he had sensed it out there, but so far no one had offered to explain what was going on.

  “So what exactly was it that we were running from?” Thomas asked after a moment of awkward silence.

  Gatsby still had a distant look as he and Glen leaned against the wall.

  “There are many things in this world that you have to be careful of Thomas. Powerful creatures that hunt dragons and humans alike.” Gatsby looked at the ground and sighed, “I'm afraid we better pray this is a coincidence, but somehow I fear it isn't.”

  Thomas was getting a little irritated with Gatsby’s' evasive nature. He couldn't remember ever knowing someone who could babble so much and say so little. “What is a coincidence?”

  Gatsby finally broke his gaze away from the ground he had been intensely studying to look up at Thomas. His eyes conveyed far more than what he said. Gatsby was terrified.

  “There is only one creature I know of that can kill without signs of a struggle. That sets all of nature around it, quiet. That can call on the elements to aid in hiding it, and that is the Shadow.”

  The Shadow. A mixture of emotions ran through Thomas. His first instinct was to snicker. 'the Shadow' sounded like a monster name from an old horror movie. The urge to laugh however was smothered by the fear that he had felt. Thinking back on the experience, 'Shadow', though cliche it might be, seemed to be the most apt description of what it was that seemed to be chasing them.

  Glen let out a deep breath as Gatsby said this, as if he had feared that this was the very thing that Gatsby was going to say.

  Gatsby continued, “There are very few Shadows still in existence. They are a relic of a forgotten time. What we do know is that they were a weapon of a dark force many eons ago. We know that they once numbered in the thousands, but now there are only a handful left in the entire world.”

  Gatsby had regained his breath and composure. The more he talked, the more he gave himself to what he was talking about. Thomas had never met someone so in love with the sound of his own voice before.

  “There are few accounts of what happened to them, but from what has been pieced together, we know there was a great war. Dragons, Humans, and many other races banded together to fight the Shadows and the evil forces that had created them. We know it was the Dragons that ultimately broke the Shadows and sent them fleeing, but little is known about their creators, or what became of them. For centuries, Dragons made it their personal mission to hunt down and exterminate the last of these creatures. Even so, a few survive. It has long been suspected the dark wizard Victor has one under his command, but this has not been confirmed, as anyone sent to investigate ends up coming up empty handed, or ends up not coming back at all, with no evidence as to what happened to them.” Gatsby didn't break his intense gaze from Thomas for even a moment.

  “You think one of these Shadows was responsible for the disappearance of those campers?” Thomas asked. He squirmed under Gatsby's piercing scrutiny, but Gatsby seemed oblivious to the discomfort he was causing his companion.

  Gatsby grew dark, “Thomas, you must understand. The Shadows are near extinction. The only one suspected to exist in this region, is under the control of Victor. They don't go randomly roaming about without reason. They are a weapon of ill purpose, given instructions that they carry out to the letter. There is no room for interpretation. This is why they were such effective tools. They never questioned their masters, they always did exactly what they were told to do.”

  Gatsby drew in close to Thomas making him more uncomfortable. “Thomas, if this thing was after us... it is not by coincidence. It's after us, specifically. I would say it can only be after you.”

  Gatsby suddenly snapped his eyes away and instantly lightened his demeanour, smiling. “Or at least that's my guess.”

  Thomas' eyes boggled.

  Gatsby slapped Thomas on the back, “Ah well. We have other fish to fry my friend. We have arrived at the home of the Alkamire Dragons! Welcome to BlueShift!”

  Glen grunted, “I’m sure that Alanna is going to be happy to greet you two as well.”

  “Alanna?” Thomas looked at Gatsby inquisitively.

  “Ah... yes. That would be the other fish I was talking about.” Gatsby looked flush.

  Glen smiled grimly, “Better not let Alanna hear you comparing her to a fish Gats.”

  Gatsby laughed nervously and tried to change the subject. “Anyway, we need to clean up and rest before we get on with that.” Gatsby picked himself up. “I'm actually quite glad it was you working the gates tonight Glen.”

  “Here it comes.” sighed Glen.

  “I was hoping I might impose on you for the night.”

  “Why is it anytime you come here, you expect me to provide the rooming?” asked Glen with a hint of irritation in his voice.

  “Why, because you are one of my best friends of course!”

  “You mean because I'm the only one dumb enough to be pushed around by you.”

  “Ah Glen, you could never be pushed around! Look at you! Tall and strong with the mental fortitude of a god. There are none that could push you around so easily. No... if we were to stay, I am sure it would only be because of your great generosity and compassionate nature. You are an amazing individual my friend.” Gatsby smiled and put an arm around Glen's shoulders. “Besides, it's only for the night. We won't be hanging around for long.”

  Glen gave another hoarse laugh, “Yeah, I don't suppose you will.”

  Gatsby grimaced a little. There was definitely something going on here that Thomas was unaware of. For whatever reason, Gatsby didn't seem to be entirely happy to be here. Before Thomas had a chance to enquire, Gatsby was sweeping Glen and Thomas quickly along down a cobbled street, to a quaint looking building in the middle of what must be the business district of this city. It seemed that Thomas' questions would have to wait for another day.

  It had been a harrowing day, but despite the ordeal that Thomas had been through, he couldn't help but feel some slight anticipation for what tomorrow might bring. Up until the last couple of days, adventure for Thomas consisted of trying his grandfather's new recipes, or cleaning the attic. This was unlike anything he had been through before.

  *****

  The darkness wrapped around its victims like a cloak. There was no escaping once the Shadow had a hold on you. Its meal at the campsite had been a satisfying distraction from its current mission. This current creature the Shadow hovered over, however, somehow lacked something. The campers had made a grand meal for the Shadow, and had unfortunately made him slow, and groggy, as a large meal always does. The prey that it had intended to catch had managed to get away. The Shadow wasn't accustomed to losing anything. This had evoked some sort of emotion in it. This was a big deal as he generally didn't feel very many emotions at all. It was too late now. Its prey was already inside the walls of BlueShift. Not too many things made the Shadow uneasy, but BlueShift was one of those few. It would have to wait out here until its intended prey ventured outside the walls. Until then, he decided he would wait, and ponder this new emotion he was...
feeling. Yes,... he was feeling something... but what?

  CHAPTER 7

  EARLY MORNING VISITOR

  Thomas was getting used to expecting the unexpected. For instance, Gatsby was about as far from a traditional dragon as Thomas could imagine. This as well was true of Glen the gate keeper. If Thomas had been asked to draw what a medieval gate keeper looked like, he would have likely drawn a giant, broad chested, man with a beard and a scarey expression. Glenn was the last individual that would strike fear into the hearts of man. He was in fact fairly jovial, a little foppish, and like Gatsby, not entirely coordinated.

  Thomas had thought of the world he found himself in, as a fairytale world. Dragons, Shadows, Wizards and bumbling balls of fur were only part of the magic of this place. The buildings and wilderness, everything he had seen, had reminded him of a dangerous version of Disneyland. Everything he had seen had been beautifully crafted. The plants seemed hyper real, more alive than any living thing should be.

  Glen's place however, was over the top. As they walked up to the building, Thomas had to slow his pace in order to take it all in. It reminded him of a cartoon version of a frontier house from a fairytale world. The boards that made up the facade were of mismatched size and shape. The odd thing about them was they looked as if they had been styled that way on purpose. Each board had a highly polished, hand crafted look to it, while still catching that essence of the rugged frontier style. Their were ropes hanging here and there, which, on first look, didn't seem out of place, but on closer inspection, had no function. The ropes themselves were overly thick and had a definite hand made look to them.

  As Thomas approached the door, he looked up. There was a lookout room over the entrance that reminded Thomas of a tree fort. He had a feeling that this place was going to take a bit to get used to.

  Glen turned to his companions as they came up to the door, “I wonder if I could ask for you to turn around for a moment?”

  Gatsby rolled his eyes. “You do this every time. We're in the middle of the Alkamire Dragons town, at the home of the Gate Keeper Dragon of the Alkamire Dragons. I don't see why we always have to go through this!”

  Glen sniffed. “You can never be too careful.”

  With that, Thomas and Gatsby turned around.

  Thomas felt perplexed. “Why do we need to turn around.” He whispered to Gatsby who was sighing and shaking his head.

  “Security.” Gatsby whispered back with a fast huff of breath.

  Thomas rolled his eyes. Glen was obviously paranoid.

  Glen knocked loudly, and deliberately on the door three times. There was a moment of silence, then the sound of wood sliding against wood. The voice that came from behind the door was, in Thomas' opinion, overly polite, overly refined, overly zealous. The voice belonged in the theatre.

  “What's the password?”

  Glen sighed, “It's me Tritton.”

  The voice replied, “Very good sir. But what's the password?”

  Glen sounded a bit annoyed. “I have company here, I can't very well tell you the password in front of them can I?”

  “That's all well and good sir, but you told me to ask for the password.” the voice replied in an offhanded manner.

  “I'm the one who gave you that order! I order you to let me in!”

  “Without the password?” The voice coming from behind the door had a hint of mockery behind the overly polite tone.

  “Yes!” exclaimed an exasperated Glen.

  “Very well. You really should make up your mind sir.”

  The sound of several locks being opened, bars being slid and various other contraptions of security, emanated from behind the wooden door. Finally the large, heavy barrier swung open and Gatsby and Thomas were invited to turn around.

  “Welcome to Tathen House!” Glen paused, “Um, Glen Tathen, that's me.”

  Thomas walked inside. It was like walking into the saloon of a wild west building, only more... crafted. Tritton, obviously the butler, was standing to the side of the door, paying only cursory attention to anyone coming in. He was a short thin man with large protruding eyes. His hair, equal parts grey and black, was combed back neatly and his clothing was well maintained and very formal. He swept the door closed as Thomas and Gatsby wandered in.

  “Well I suppose you should make yourself comfortable. You'll be needing to get your rest before seeing Alanna I imagine.” Glen walked up a staircase in the middle of the foyer and disappeared.

  “Well Thomas, I suppose it would be a good idea to get a rest before tomorrow.” sighed Gatsby. Gatsby seemed to be agitated. His looked like he was staring at something off in the distance as he absentmindedly spoke to Thomas.

  Gatsby led Thomas to a smaller room, in what seemed like a tower. It wasn't like any tower that Thomas had ever imagined. Oh, it had a spiralling staircase that led up several flights of stairs before ending in a door that, yes, led to a circular room, but the whole thing was done in this almost western style that seemed at odds with the castle-like section of this home. Cottage, home, castle, saloon... Thomas wasn't sure what to call this place.

  The room itself was on the small side, but there were two beds in it and an amazing window with a view of the street below. The days events had taken their toll on poor Thomas and he had started an endless barrage of yawns and sighs. Gatsby indicated the bed by the window and Thomas smiled. He thought how wonderful it was going to be to look out the window and see the bustle of the people below as he fell to sleep. He laid on his side and pulled the blanket over his legs. What an interesting view of the street it was... it.. was... ... it...

  Thomas drifted off quickly, with Gatsby not too far behind. The trouble of tomorrow eluding them for a night.

  * * * * *

  “Thomas! Get up quick!” Thomas eyes opened far too early for his taste. Gatsby was pacing around the room like a cat that knew the hungry wolf was waiting outside the door. “She's sent an escort for us!” Gatsby collapsed onto the bed. “I KNEW this would happen. Oh why didn't I stay home? WHY?”

  Thomas swung himself out of bed, confused at what his new friend was

  moaning about.

  “What time is it Gatsby?” croaked Thomas.

  “WHO CARES WHAT TIME IT IS?” shouted Gatsby. His eyes bulged, and Thomas thought he could almost make out the veins in his forehead pulsing.

  “She's expecting me to see her!” Gatsby got off the bed again and started to pace. “I had thought that a few hundred years would cool her down, but apparently she's as angry as if it were yesterday.”

  “Who'd be angry with you?”

  “She would. Alanna.” Gatsby shivered as he said her name.

  “Who's Alanna?” asked Thomas.

  Gatsby was just opening his mouth when a large knock came at their bedroom door.

  “Gatsby! We know you are there. The princess wishes to speak with you!”

  “Good lord, Thomas.” whined Gatsby, “Hide me!”

  Thomas had never been asked to hide a dragon before. Taking a quick look around the room, Thomas already knew this was a futile request. “Why don't you just jump out the window and fly off?”

  “It's not as quick as you would think. I would hate to land on a passerby just as I changed into a dragon. I don't think that would be too pretty.”

  “Come on Gatsby, open up the door!”

  Gatsby looked like a trapped rabbit rather than a dragon.

  “I don't think that we have much choice.”

  Gatsby just stood frozen to the spot, making a visible effort to reign his nerves in. Thomas rolled his eyes and walked over to open the door. Outside on the stairwell stood three imposing looking individuals. The person nearest the door would have been probably in his 40's if he were human. As he was likely a dragon as well, Thomas had no idea how old this individual was. He was somewhat over dressed, wearing an old fashioned puffy sleeved outfit embroidered with gold and silver designs. The outfit itself was vibrant cobalt blue. The wonderful lookin
g outfit didn't match the rather sour looking expression of this middle aged person. Two less formally dressed brutes stood just a couple of steps down from the person who stood in front of him now.

  “Gatsby.” The man in blue spat the name out in obvious disgust. “I see you haven't changed much since I last saw you. I can't imagine what is so important you would risk a visit to BlueShift.”

  “Allan. You are looking well.” Gatsby replied a little nervously. “Um, is there something that I can do for you?”

  The man in Blue pushed past Thomas and into the room. “Oh please Gatsby, you know very well why I am here. Alanna wishes to speak with you. I am here to make sure that you don't try to run.”

  Gatsby took on a feigned hurt expression, “I'm surprised you would think I would come all this way to see the princess, only to run away! Anyway, I hate for you to trouble yourself. As it happens, I was planning to see Alanna today.”

  “I see. Think of me as a reminder then. A demanding reminder.” Allan shifted his gaze to Thomas noticing the young human in the room for the first time. “Who is this?”

  “Oh, just someone I ran into along the way. We ran into some trouble with the Shadow, so he tagged along.”

  Allan took on a thoughtful look for a moment. “I had heard something about that from Glen.” Allan paused, and then turned on his heel and addressed Gatsby again.

  “I will give you a few moments to get yourself presentable before we go to see the princess.” Allan deliberately looked Gatsby over from head to toe, pausing at each article of clothing with an increasingly bitter expression. His look said that he didn't believe any amount of time would be enough to make Gatsby presentable.

  With that, Allan and his goons left the room and retreated down the stairs.

  Thomas had been quiet the entire conversation. Things were happening that he had no grasp of. Now that the two of them were alone he had to find out what was going on once and for all.

  “Gatsby! Please, what is going on? If we are travelling together, the least you can do is tell me what we are getting into here. I thought the Alkamire Dragons were your friends!”

  Gatsby sighed. “They are... or were. Maybe.”

  Gatsby turned Thomas around as he reluctantly started to change into more presentable clothing.