Atlas Cloud And The Amulet of Thieves by L.M.J. Rayner

the barman, using a dialect I have never heard of. I didn't understand it but the barman did. He led us through a hallway. Dark stone plated stairs followed, which led to a wine cellar. Cob webs covered the ceilings and walls. The floor was cracked and the wine bottles were dusty. One of the other travellers with Alistair threw out his hand. Sparks of light flickered through the air, lighting candles that were placed on the walls. The orange light lit the room, changing the colour palette from grey and black to orange and yellow. Alistair handed the barman some coins and he left.
     
    “Why the tip?” I whispered to Farro.
     
    “It's not a tip; it's to keep him quiet.” Farro said, not really answering my question.
     
    “Would you do the honours?” Alistair asked, bowing slightly towards the woman in the group. By the way they were all standing around him it was clear that he was the leader in the group. The woman walked out in front of us and stood next to an old bookcase that was propped up against the left wall. She proceeded to pull out the books ripping out pages and throwing them on the floor.
     
    “What's she doing?” Eli said
     
    “Just watch.” Roko said looking in awe at the mysterious woman, who I had the feeling didn't like reading. After about half of the books were shredded and left into a pile of random sentences on the floor she stepped back over them. Holding one hand out in front of her, she chanted and murmured a spell from a book she took out of her satchel.
     
    “Watch this.” Farro said leaning over and breathing it into my ear. I didn't understand what was going on, until I noticed that the pile of torn paper was glowing. The pile started to float off of the ground, flowing through each other as if they were fish swimming in sync. They started fitting back together again but this time they all formed one picture. It was a portrait, jaggedly fitted together. Colour started to infect the pages, reds, blues and yellows. The image was dark in the light, so I couldn't make out what the portrait was of. As I stepped forward to take a better look, it shuddered and flew backwards, sticking to the wall behind it with a thud.
     
    “Thank you very much Ingram.” Alistair said “This is our safe haven, a place for us to plan and rest. It is secret and protected.” He said to me and the rest of the group. I still don't understand what the bloody hell is going on. Alistair turned around and put his hand up against the painting. A white light flashed and he was gone. He disappeared, my eyes widened, I was about to say something but Farro put his hand on my shoulder, and winked at me. The rest of the strangers that we joined one by one placed their hands on the portrait and vanished. The safe haven was a portrait! We were left on our own. I stood there, not knowing what to make of it all.
     
    “Our haven is glued together paper?” I said out loud.
     
    “Isn't it perfect?” Farro said smiling, “A safe place that cannot be found and that is easily hidden.”
     
     
     
    “Will we even all fit in there.” Eli said, using his thumb and finger to measure the picture and himself.
     
    “Your perspective sees it as a painting but when we touch and get transported across this space we will look like the painting.” Farro said “Roko you and Eli first.” Roko nodded and walked over to the portrait.
     
    “So what, do we hold hands or...” Eli said holding out his palm. Roko didn't smile. She grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and she touched the portal. A flash of light and they were gone. I was about to transport across and join the others but Farro stopped me.
     
    “Listen to me, don't tell them about the mishap with the hunter, they are a paranoid bunch and will not let you in if they found out.” Farro warned, I nodded to him and walked towards the portal. A bright light and I was gone from one place to another.
     
     
     
    It was dark just like the cellar under the inn. I was in