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

a hallway, lit from wall to wall with torches of fire. I turned around to see the painting. It was different. Instead of seeing a black canvas with the faint impression of an archway I could see the wine cellar. Racks and racks of bottles lined the walls. The room was also filled with barrels of food and water. It had changed, this wasn't the room I came from, or was it? In the corner of the frame was a small man, yellow trench coat and hat. Before I could analyse the picture any further the canvas started to shimmer. I stood back expecting Farro to burst through and smack me in the face. The white light burned my eyes this time.
     
    “Come on Atlas. I have to introduce you to them properly.” He said, appearing in front of me. The hallway opened up into a study area, from the looks of it. Bookshelves, tables and chairs. This place was massive. After walking through the study, one of the bookshelves slid across the floor and closed the entrance to the portrait. It was an entire house! I gazed blissfully at the double stone steps that led up to the bed chambers. Alistair was stood in front of them with Roko and Eli.
     
    “Finally, it's time for all of you to get some rest. There is a bed each but you to will have to share a room.” He said pointing with his two fingers at me and Eli. We shrugged our shoulders, we've slept in the same room loads of times, I’m just glad that the walking has stopped. “There are supplies in the kitchen if you need anything, just help yourself. I would eat whenever you can; we don't stay for very long.” He said. Which I found very hard to believe, this place was a paradise compared with the inn we came from.
     
     
     
    We all retired to our rooms, ours had a double bed and a sofa in the corner. After much deliberation Eli gave up and took the double bed. I mean I don't sleep much anyway and even though he tried not to show it he was as much exhausted as the rest of us. After tossing and turning trying to get comfortable on the two-seater, I gave up. I put on my t-shirt that I have worn for days now, smelling like I found it in a skip. The old pair of jeans that have accompanied me on my travels had holes ripped into them, mud and grass stains sewed into the fabric. I looked like stig of the dump for god sake. I decided to take a wander around the haven. Hoping that they had a working toilet around here or I might start to cry. After opening several doors I found the bathroom. It was clean; the toilet was an actual toilet, not just a shallow hole in the ground. Pipes feeding into it, a long chain flusher, I don't think I have ever had such a pleasant reaction to a toilet before. Except the time Eli bet me to drink a gallon of water in one minute, if only the bathroom was an inch closer I could have made it. I examined myself in the mirror above the sink, taking off my t-shirt. The hole in my heart was bulging; the medicine hasn't seemed to slow it down. The veins in my chest were pulsating, the blood flowing through them was a dark purple. It felt as if liquid mercury was crashing through them. The rim of the wound was like a crater in the moon itself, except it didn't feel like it should be there, but foreign and evil. It had taken a life of its own devouring me slowly, bit by bit. My whole left shoulder now was starting to change colour. It was unbearable. The pain was excruciating, it feels as if the fangs of the beast that inflicted it were still embedded into my very being, trying to tear my soul from my mortal flesh and feast on it. Looking at my face I realised the toll it was taking on me. My skin was white and sickly, all its energy transferring to the cancer within me. The skin around my eyes was darker, the sleepless nights were bad enough but the constant fear and danger that has befallen the journey was deafening. My heart felt like it was beating a hundred times a second. I took a long, deep breath. Taking in as much oxygen as possible, I washed my face with water and