and hit return. Images of different coloured dragons appeared at the top of the page. They were definitely larger than your average wyvern. The first website returned was a gossip column, which I ignored, but the second one was from Otherpedia. That would do it. I opened it up and read.
Draco Wyr were intelligent members of the dragon family. They
possessed the ability to shift into human form and were known to
regularly visit the human demesnes. They were reported to be
an average size of eleven feet tall, with impenetrable scales
covering their dragon form. The Draco Wyr also had some magical
abilities, mainly from the power inherent in their blood.
Legend states that anyone who drinks the blood of a Draco Wyr
will be able to converse with animals and gain the strength of
twenty men. Most scholars believe that this is an over
exaggeration, however, as there is little evidence of this.
What is known is that the blood of a Draco Wyr contained
enough magical properties to be used as both a deadly poison
and a cure-all medicine for a range of ailments. There have
been no eye-witness sightings since 1666 and the Great Fire
of London, which is believed was caused when two Draco Wyr
lost their tempers and attacked each other near the site of
Pudding Lane.
I looked back at the artists’ renderings. The pictures indicated old-fashioned full-on fairy tale dragons, complete with red scales, pointy tales and sharp, gleaming teeth. They also all appeared to be about the size of a two storey house. Nope, I’d definitely never come across one of them before. So what on earth had the wichtlein meant when he’d said that the Draco Wyr had been involved in John’s death but that it was my fault? I didn’t feel that I was any closer to finding out anything of any real significance. And it had been three hundred and fifty years since anyone had even seen one anyway. Despite what Alex had said, Craw must have been lying. But then there was also John’s computer password to consider – that had been the Basque word for dragon. Was that a coincidence? And how about the fact that John had hidden the increased otherworld activity from the rest of the pack? And, in particular, me?
I leaned back in the chair and pondered my next move. With my research on the dragons creating more problems and questions than answers, I had to focus my efforts on finding Iabartu. It would be good to know what the Brethren and the rest of the pack had achieved the day before. Maybe Alex had uncovered some evidence of her trail. If not, then my best move would be to do something to draw her out into the open where I could attack her. I had no idea yet what that might be.
Figuring that Betsy would be a good person to deliver all the gossip on what had transpired over the last day whilst I’d been sleeping, I headed back to the dorm room to see if she was awake yet. I was just about to push open the door to go inside when Anton came out, clutching something white and scrunched up in his hands. What the hell?
I growled at him and his eyes snapped up from what he was holding.
“Human,” he hissed.
I answered in like. “Prick.” I looked at down at his hands but he stuffed them behind his back. “Sneaking around in the girls’ room now, are you? What have you stolen? Let me guess, someone’s dirty underwear so you can sniff at it at your leisure.”
Instead of the usual smart reply I was expecting, Anton actually blushed. Okay, now I had to know what it was he’d taken. I reached behind him, but he sidestepped and snarled.
“Stay away from me.”
Not a chance buster. I eyeballed him with my best steely gaze. “Then give me what you’ve got there and I’ll leave you alone.”
His body tensed and I could see dark spots appearing under the skin on his face. His were was trying to get out. I narrowed my eyes further. Something was definitely up.
“C’mon, Anton,” I coaxed, trying to reach behind him again.
He backed away against the door frame. “Fuck off.”
I rocked back slightly before feinting left and whirling round behind him, pulling the piece of material away from him. It ripped as I yanked it out of his hands. I looked down and saw my bloodied t-shirt from the day before which I’d left stuffed in the dorm’s laundry basket. Now I was seriously freaked