by carl ashmore
‘Nice to see you’re keeping the place clean,’ Becky quipped.
Uncle Percy nodded absentmindedly as he pulled up three chairs and set them at the table. ‘As you can see I’ve been rather busy.’
‘Is this all to do with the Spear of Fate?’ Joe asked, scanning the room.
‘Yes,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Ever since Imran told me about the Sonchis Scroll, I’ve been researching prominent spears and staves in history, legend and mythology. It turns out there are more examples that you’d think: Shiva’s Trishula; The staff of Moses; Aaron’s Rod; The Holy Lance; even Satan himself is often depicted with a pitchfork. Anyway, my investigations have taken me to numerous timelines, countries and cultures, from Ancient Sumer, to the Neo-Babylonian empire, the Great library of Alexandria and, finally, even a short but fruitful visit to the Hofburg museum in Vienna in 1926.’
‘And what did you find out?’ Becky asked keenly.
‘Well, quite a bit,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘And very little …’ He gave a mirthless chuckle. ‘The most intriguing legend is that it ended up in Egypt many thousands of years ago, hidden in an underground temple.’
Becky felt the hair stand on the back of her neck.
‘An underground temple?’ Joe gasped.
‘Yes,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘But the trail for any lost temple went cold pretty quickly.’
‘So how does Miriam Potts fit into all of this?’ Becky asked.
Uncle Percy shuffled uncomfortably on his chair. ‘Well, as it turns out, certain other parties throughout history must’ve heard of The Spear of Fate and were keen to find it, too. Miriam travelled back in time and, at great personal risk, managed to retrieve some communiqué that has proved most helpful for our search. In fact, it brings a few strands of this story together, along with some personal elements I shall explain later.’
‘What type of communiqué?’ Becky asked.
‘She managed to acquire a letter. A very important letter.’
‘Who from?’ Joe asked.
Uncle Percy stood up, approached one of the bookshelves and pulled out a book. He tapped the cover three times and the book’s title illuminated red. At once, a bookshelf groaned open to reveal a wall safe. He walked over to it and typed nine numbers onto a keypad. With a click, the safe door opened and he pulled out a large envelope. Returning to the table, he opened the envelope and extracted a sheet of dark cream paper. ‘This is one of the things in this room I’d hate for Maria to discover. It’s written in German but I think the letterhead says it all.’
He passed the letter to Becky.
The moment she took hold of it, Becky felt dread sweep through her. She couldn’t read German but it didn’t matter - the emblem on the top left and the name beneath was enough to tell her all she needed to know. The emblem was a black eagle, its wings outstretched, its head turned sharply to the right. It was holding an oak wreath with an instantly recognizable symbol in the middle: a swastika. However, it was the name embossed in gold and written in uppercase letters that sent shockwaves through her.
ADOLF HITLER
Chapter 10
Tibet or not Tibet
‘And here’s the translation,’ Uncle Percy said, producing a second sheet of paper and passing it over. Joe moved to Becky’s left and together they began to read.
Berlin. 13th January 1939
ADOLF HITLER
Reichsführer-SS Heinrich Himmler
I have just received your distressing news and am most upset by the recent theft of the Gadeirus Tablet. How could this have been allowed to happen? Need I repeat the Reich has committed substantial sums to finance your SS Ahnenerbe unit, not to mention this latest expedition to Tibet? As far as I’m concerned, if the Gadeirus Tablet is lost forever this has been a futile affair, for which I demand accountability. I was given your assurance that Erik Müller was the man for the Tibetan venture. If so, how can he have been so fatuous as to be deceived by this traitor, Werner Von Hammelburg? Or is it your judgment that is in question?
Either way, I want Von Hammelburg found and I want him dealt with using the most severe means possible. I cannot stress how much I wish the Gadeirus Tablet to be recovered. The future of the Reich could well depend on Müller’s success on this matter. If he is unable or too inept to succeed, I shall be compelled to dispatch Otto Kruger to Tibet. He is certainly a man that will get results.
ADOLF HITLER
Becky stared wide-eyed at Joe. She found that her hands were shaking uncontrollably, and quickly put the letter down to stop Joe noticing.
‘Otto Kruger!’ Joe blustered. ‘Don’t tell me Emerson Drake is working with bloody Hitler?’
Uncle Percy shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t put it past him, but I don’t think so. Remember, Kruger was Hitler’s personal bodyguard for many years before he disappeared in 1940. This letter was written a year before that. No, I believe Kruger’s presence in all of this is purely coincidental.’
Becky’s gaze returned to the letter. ‘What’s the Gadeirus Tablet?’
‘I can’t be completely sure,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘But Imran Musa did say it was mentioned in the Sonchis Scroll. He described it as a block of silver marble, about the size of a phone book, which was inscribed with a coded message.’
Becky was getting excited now. ‘What kind of message?’
‘A message that, once deciphered, would lead to the location of the Spear of Fate.’
Joe gave an excited gasp. ‘Like one of Israel Hands’ markers?’
‘I suppose,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Of course, other than its inclusion in the Scroll I’ve not found any other evidence that it actually existed.’
‘So what’s this about Tibet?’ Joe asked. ‘What were the Nazis doing there?’
‘Well, the Nazis involvement in Tibet is well documented,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘And the 1938 expedition, led by respected zoologist Ernst Schäfer was a very public one indeed. In a nutshell, many high-ranking Nazis believed the Aryan race to have its genesis in a lost civilization, one thought to be closely associated with Tibet. I’m sure you can guess which one.’
‘Atlantis?’ Becky submitted.
Uncle Percy nodded slowly. ‘Do you remember I said that Atlanteans were thought to be super-human. It makes sense that a group as supremely arrogant as the Nazis would believe themselves to be related. Anyway, as far as the world was concerned, Schäfer’s expedition was a scientific one; they were in Tibet to study the people, climate, geography, and culture. However, judging by the letter, it seems that Erik Müller’s mission was something else entirely, something much more disturbing.’
‘To find the Gadeirus Tablet,’ Becky replied in a whisper.
‘Indeed,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘You see, what is also public knowledge is that Hitler was obsessed with an ancient relic called The Spear of Destiny – a powerful object that supposedly made its possessor invincible. Now, many believed that spear to be a Christian relic known as the Holy Lance, but judging by his interest in the Gadeirus Tablet, perhaps they were mistaken. It certainly doesn’t take a great leap to think that Hitler’s Spear and The Spear of Fate are one and the same, does it?’
All fell silent.
It took quite a few seconds before Joe asked, ‘So who’s this Von Hamburger bloke?’
‘Werner Von Hammelburg was a very courageous man,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘A member of an anti-Nazi resistance group called the Red Orchestra, who managed to function within the SS as a double agent. Somehow, he managed to get himself attached to the Tibetan expedition.’
‘And he nicked the Gadeirus Tablet?’ Joe asked.
‘It appears so.’
‘Then we should call him Von Hamburglar?’ Joe said, managing a grin.
‘Let’s not, shall we?’ Uncle Percy replied.
‘So what happened to it?’ Becky asked.
‘It disappeared. Hammelburg disappeared. And neither has been heard of since.’
‘So we’re stuffed then,’ Joe said with a frow
n.
The hint of a smile rounded Uncle Percy’s mouth. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘What do you mean?’ Joe asked.
Uncle Percy took to his feet and began to pace the room. ‘Because we’ve got a head start,’ he said, eyes shining. ‘We have information that no human from any time period knows.’
‘What do you mean?’ Becky asked quickly.
‘Do you remember on our journey to the Red Caves, you asked me about which mythological creatures existed and which didn’t?’
Becky glanced at Joe, suddenly intrigued.
‘Yes,’ they replied simultaneously.
‘Do you recall I mentioned Gimbledok?’
Joe’s eyes enlarged. ‘The Yeti! The one you nursed back to health from a snow leopard attack. The one who spoke in some old language.’
‘Ancient Nepalese, yes. Well, it just so happens that Nepal is a neighboring country to Tibet.’
Becky looked confused. ‘So?’
‘Do you remember I said that Yetis liked to collect things?’
‘Yeah … so?’ Joe asked.
‘Did Gimbledok have the Gadeirus Tablet?’ Becky asked excitedly.
‘Not to my knowledge,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘But he did show me a cap he’d acquired, one that belonged to a dying man he’d found in the mountains. Anyway, Gimbledok couldn’t save the man’s life, but he did lay him and his belongings to rest in a mountain cave. As a mark of respect, he took his cap. Anyway, when I saw it I was surprised to see it had the skull and crossbones symbol sewn onto the crown.’
Becky and Joe looked bewildered.
‘He was a pirate?’ Joe asked weakly.
Uncle Percy chuckled half-heartedly. ‘No, Joe. As well as being associated with pirates, the skull and crossbones was the insignia of the SS. It’s the Death’s Head symbol.’
Becky shivered as she said the following words. ‘The dead man … it was Werner Von Hammelburg?’
‘I think so,’ Uncle Percy said.
‘So what are you saying?’ Joe asked.
‘I’m saying that if Gimbledok can show us where he buried Von Hammelburg, it’s possible we’ll also find the Gadeirus Tablet.’
Joe’s face flushed cherry-red. ‘You’re saying we’re going to visit the Yetis?’
Uncle Percy smiled. ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying …’
*
An hour later, Becky was sitting in her pyjamas at her dressing table, brushing her hair, and listening to the wind batter the hall’s ramparts.
But hair and weather were the last things on her mind. She had been at Bowen Hall for less than twenty-four hours and so much had happened. Furthermore, within hours, she, Joe and Uncle Percy were travelling to the Himalayas in 1950s Nepal to visit a Yeti named Gimbledok. She tried to remember all she’d been told about the Yetis, about their twenty strong community, but she’d been so surprised by their existence in the first place she hadn’t really listened to the details and could hardly remember a thing.
She placed the hairbrush on the dressing table, and moved over to the bed, throwing back the duvet and climbing in. For what seemed like an eternity she tossed and turned restlessly, thrashing the pillow for all it was worth, and clamping her eyes shut in the hope that sleep would find her.
But it didn’t.
Instead, she found herself on a footpath on a narrow country lane, flanked on both sides by unusually large trees. Rain speckled her face. She pulled her scarf around her neck, and scanned the tar-black sky to see the gathering rainclouds, which shrouded the moon and stars from view.
At that moment, a warm hand cupped hers. She looked up to see her mother, looking taller than usual, smiling down at her.
‘C’mon, Becky. Let’s go home and -’
Her words were cut short by a terrifying ROARRRR.
The monster had returned.
Clasping her mother’s hand tightly, a terrified Becky began to run; faster and faster she accelerated, heart pounding wildly. She stole a glance back and saw two giant silvery orbs emerge from the blackness.
The monster charged, its hateful eyes growing larger all the time. In that moment, Becky knew they were dead.
Unless….
Tearing her hand away, she shoved her mother with all her might and watched as she fell hard, banging her head on the curb with a nasty crack.
Becky knew she couldn’t worry about her now. Looking round, she spied a broken tree branch, pointed and long. Extending her hand, her gaze locked on it and she felt a strange watery sensation brush the top of her head. She focused intently on the branch as the feeling spread into her eyes. Incredibly, as if on a cord, the branch took to the air and soared into her open palm.
The branch had become a sword.
Becky turned sharply, and raised the sword high, ready to strike, but it was too late. The monster was upon her.
With a high-pitched screech, it pounced.
And …
Her eyes snapped open. Bolting upright, she felt overcome with relief as, piece-by-piece, bedroom furniture emerged through the gloom. She was safe.
It was just a dream.
Becky was about to dab her forehead dry when she felt something between her fingers. Looking down, an icy chill scaled her spine. Her gaze flicked over to the dressing table to see its empty tabletop. Her eyes returned to the object in her hand: her hairbrush.
It had happened again.
Chapter 11
Snow fun at all
Becky found it impossible to relax after that. It was the second time that same nightmare had assaulted her sleep and, strangely, both times had happened at Bowen Hall. The telekinesis, however - well, that was a first. And it made her anxious. What if she had a dream about needing the loo and accidentally pulled the entire bathroom suite into her bedroom? It was all so creepy, so weird. She didn’t like standing out in a crowd at the best of times, the last thing she wanted to be was the girl that could move objects with her mind. After all, Eleanor Perkins had been forever branded a weirdo at school for bringing cornflake butties in her packed lunch and telling everyone her stepdad had walked on the moon.
Even with these thoughts zipping round her head, Becky soon fell back to sleep and this time it was without incident. She awoke at 6.30am to the distant hoots of a pair of Tawny owls competing for possession of the morning. She flicked on her bedside light, and saw a towering pile of clothes beside her wardrobe. Flinging off her duvet, she walked over and spotted a note.
Dear Becky,
I hope you’re looking forward to our little trip. In my opinion, the Himalayas is one of the most awe-inspiring and humbling regions in the world. Now, as you will see I have provided plenty of appropriate clothing. Surviving low temperatures is all about layers; subsequently, you may think you resemble a spaceman, but it’s better to look stupid and be safe, than to look fab and freeze (I have a feeling you may well disagree with me on this). Now, I have chosen a relatively mild day for our journey but we’re still talking of temperatures of down to minus ten.
Anyway, if you would be so kind as to meet me in the Time Room ASAP, then we can leave before Maria wakes, which I assure you is in all of our interests, particularly mine.
UP
Becky stared at the clothes: a honey-coloured padded coat with a furry hood, a fleece, two long sleeved shirts, leggings, trousers, thick woollen socks and boots that resembled two canal barges. She gave an accepting nod. For once, she didn’t care whether she looked daft or not. She’d experienced what she considered ‘real’ cold once before, on a camping trip to the Peak District with the brownies, and was more than prepared to look like a Yorkshire pudding rather than go through that hell again. She began to dress.
A short while later, she and Joe were waddling down the passageway to the kitchens, trying desperately not to walk into anything valuable.
‘I feel like the marshmallow man,’ Joe muttered under his breath.
Becky nodded. As she exited the kitchen and stepped out, however, sh
e was astonished how the chilly morning air barely touched her.
Strips of sunlight slashed the sky and the snow cracked underfoot as Becky and Joe made their way along the side path to the Time Room.
Becky’s breath congealed into ghostly swirls as she looked up to see the Time Room door already open. Barbie was hovering in midair, inspecting a circuit box on the ceiling and just below her stood Betty, who gleamed proudly in the centre of the room like an enormous pink sweet. Uncle Percy, fully dressed in his winter outfit, was standing next to her and holding a strange looking device that pinged loudly as he scribbled something on a notepad. He glanced up as Becky and Joe shuffled in.
‘Well, if it isn’t Edmund Hillary and Sherpa Tenzing,’ he said, pocketing the gadget and notepad.
‘Who?’ Becky replied.
‘Hillary and Tenzing,’ Uncle Percy repeated. ‘Please tell me you’ve heard of them. They were two of my childhood heroes.’
Becky shook her head. ‘Nope.’
‘What type of heroes?’ Joe asked. ‘Like Batman and Robin?’
‘Not exactly,’ Uncle Percy replied with a disappointed sigh.
Joe looked playfully at Becky. ‘Doesn’t mum order Chicken Sherpa Tenzing from the Chinese takeaway?’
‘For your information they were the first men to officially reach the summit of Mount Everest.’
Joe looked impressed. ‘Fair enough.’
Barbie landed at Uncle Percy’s side with a gentle clink. ‘Good morning Miss Rebecca, Master Joseph.’
‘Hiya, Babs,’ Joe said.
‘Morning, Barbie,’ Becky said.
The little robot turned to Uncle Percy. ‘The Enflax Momboblifier has been reconfigured, sir, and all is suitable for your departure.’
‘Thank you, my dear.’ Uncle Percy scanned Becky and Joe. ‘You both look suitably cushioned.’
‘I feel like a bouncy castle,’ Becky replied.
Uncle Percy chuckled. ‘Well, you’ll certainly need the layers where we’re going.’
