by James Erith
THE DRAGON’S GAME
EDEN CHRONICLES IV
JAMES ERITH
COPYRIGHT
THE DRAGON’S GAME
First Published in 2018
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Jerico Press
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Cover: Tom Moore ([email protected])
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Copyright © James Erith 2018
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The right of James Erith to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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All rights reserved.
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No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, recording, photocopying, mechanical or otherwise without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This is a work of fiction and therefore entirely invented. All errors, factual, scientific, religious or otherwise are the author’s, and the author’s alone.
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THE DRAGON’S GAME is written in UK English.
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ISBN-13: 978-1-910134-24-5
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www.JamesErith.com
For Robert and Sara
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It started out as a story for my Godchildren:
Isabella, Daisy, Archie, Iso and Ernest
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Special thanks:
Tom and Marsha Moore, Nicola Traynor, Ed and Philip Erith.
Also to my Eden Team for all their help and support.
The Riddles
‘The first you hid in the heart of the house
‘That warms you night and day
‘Get it out by poking me,
‘And singing your favourite song along the way!
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‘For the second one you have to find
‘You burp it from the family belly.
‘To do this, you have to eat
‘Blabisterberry jelly!
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‘The third you search for is underneath your nose.
‘It’s clear, pure and cold.
‘In order to draw it out
‘You need to send a rose.
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‘Put them all together,
‘Then get out of the way
‘What you find will prove a guide
‘For all the other worlds.
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‘You have but seven days and seven nights
‘As Earth moves in its cycle
‘From first lightning strike and thunderclap
‘The world awaits your arrival.’
1 STONE READIES HIS MEN
Commissioner Stone, the commander of the flood disaster faced his young officer. ‘Dickinson, this time, I want results so don’t screw up,’ he said, his icy blue eyes fixing him with a stare most people flinched away from.
‘Yes, sir,’ Dickinson replied.
‘We’ve been played for fools, and events are moving fast. Too damn fast for my liking. We’ve got one day to bring in Archie de Lowe and one day to extract the information he holds.’
The strange thing about Stone, Dickinson thought, was that he became entirely fixated on one thing to such an extent that other targets, options and opinions were wholly overlooked. But Stone had the knack of getting the right man. He’d almost single-handedly brought down mafia bosses, drugs barons and illegal arms dealers. And now in his sights was a boy, Archie de Lowe, and his siblings, who had developed a habit of slipping through his fingers.
‘The problem we have, sir, is the fog.’
Stone’s fist crashed down on the table. ‘I don’t care about the weather,’ he roared. ‘Get that boy and his sisters out of that cottage and bring them to me. You are professional soldiers.’
‘With respect, Sir,’ Dickinson stammered, ‘the pilots will not fly the helicopters—’
‘NOT fly! Bleedin’ heck, Dickinson. Extort them! Make them do it.’
‘I’ve expressed that it will be a dereliction of duty—’
‘Not enough! Bribe them.’
‘I’ve tried that too. They say it’s suicidal.’
‘Then use blackmail. Surely you have information on these men that you can use.’
Dickinson shook his head. ‘The weathermen say it is the worst case of fog ever recorded.’
Stone stood up and glared at the young man. ‘Then use the damn boats.’
Dickinson breathed deeply. He’d been dreading this conversation. ‘Masham was ransacked overnight, sir. I’m not sure if you’re fully up to speed, but it’s bedlam out there. Several attempted break-ins to the compound resulted in at least twenty-five people being shot dead.’ Dickinson paused. ‘It’ll be hard enough to get to the boats — if they haven’t already been stolen by the mob.’
Stone ground his teeth and stared frostily at Dickinson and then at the wall, thinking. ‘Recruit ten of the best men out there, Dickinson; special forces,’ he ordered. ‘We need to find these stupid kids. You won’t know it, but intelligence reports coming in hint that other nationalities are threatening to send in crack squads. They’re under the deluded belief that this is the work of some insurgent group, a bunch of lunatic religious terrorists.’
‘What do they intend to do?’
‘Find the bleedin’ de Lowes, of course.’ He sighed. ‘Apparently, two scientists here at Swinton Park let slip to US intelligence that these kids had found the Ark of the bleeding Covenant with powers to destroy everything on the planet and powers to rule.’ Stone removed his glasses and stroked his moustache. ‘Madness, of course, the lot of it. Of course, now the news has spread like wildfire; the Americans and the rest of the world are saying it’s a religious phenomenon. Mass prayers twenty-four-seven, followed by mass rioting. People are crucifying their neighbours and all the while the Islamic extremist fanatics are baying with a kind of ‘I told you so,’ attitude. Believe you me; they too are very keen to get their hands on this supposed “Ark”. And all the while, Dickinson, people are randomly dying from the disease – even those with no religious affiliation whatsoever.’
‘What if the de Lowes really have found something mystical and other-worldly,’ Dickinson asked.
Stone picked up a mug and launched it at Dickinson’s head.
The officer swayed out of the way as the crockery exploded on the wall. ‘They haven’t!’ he roared. ‘Don’t be bloody stupid! They probably know something ... something about a biological weapon or a chemical leak in Upsall and have run into hiding.’
‘They might even be dead,’ Dickinson volunteered.
‘Yes, indeed,’ Stone said, the corners of his mouth turning up at the thought. ‘But we do know they survived the flood and that boy Kemp keeps showing up on the surveillance cameras at Eden Cottage. We also know there’s a link between him and Archie because Kemp told us and, oddly, I’m inclined to believe him,’ Stone said as he checked his watch. ‘In the marrow of my bones,’ he continued, slowly, ‘I believe there’s something very, very fishy going on. I’ve had strong feelings like this before, Dickinson and, as you know, I’m always right.’
‘Your ten men, Sir,’ Dickinson said. ‘Do you want to brief them, or should I?’
‘Tell them to be ready in one hour. Gives me time to make arrangements.’
Dickinson frowned. ‘Arrangements?’
>
‘I’m going to lead this squad.’ He peered over his glasses. ‘Got a problem with that?’
‘No, sir. It’s just that you’re in overall control here—’
‘Look, we’ve got two days, Dickinson. What does it matter if I’m absent? The world is crashing and burning, and this is the single most important issue by a country mile. There are plenty of decent officers who can run the show here.’ Stone sat down heavily, reapplied his bifocals and stared at a list on his desk. He looked up. ‘Oh, and Dickinson, let me brief you on some other facts – “Need to know” stuff.’
‘Sir.’
‘We’re not going to be evacuated…’ He left the words hanging.
‘I’m sorry, sir. What did you say—’
Stone raised his eyebrows. ‘When the Americans drop the bomb, no one — me, you, everyone here — is going anywhere. It’s all a big, fat lie. There aren’t the resources and besides,’ he said with a sly smile, ‘we can’t go anywhere in this fog anyway, can we?’
Dickinson's face drained. ‘So, we’ve had it?
‘In a nutshell, yes. This hotel is possibly the safest place on the planet right now and if we can’t find out what the source of this damn situation is, well then…’
‘We’re toast.’
‘Precisely. In the meantime,’ Stone continued, ‘if there’s even a sprinkling of truth about this Ark of the Covenant bullshit then I think we have a duty to find out before anyone else, especially those extremist terror groups. Don’t you think?’
Dickinson began gathering his things. ‘What’s your plan, sir?’
‘We take two boats and cross the flooded Vale of York as near to Eden Cottage as possible. We’ll wire the perimeter with explosives, alerting and slowing down any unnecessary intruders, then march on the target.’
‘But what if the de Lowes run into the devices?’
‘They won’t. They’re in there, Dickinson, tucked away in that ramshackle old cottage. They have to be. We’ll lie in wait. If I’m wrong and the bomb goes off, then tough. Nothing much more we can do, is there? My hunch is that they’ll crawl from under some rock and when they do, we’ll pounce and inform the Americans to hold off. Then, by God, I’ll interrogate the little bastards.’
Dickinson saluted. ‘One hour — twenty-one-hundred-hours — in the main hallway?’
‘Yes. Wait for me there. Bring heavy armour and,’ an idea popped into his head, ‘flamethrowers, grenades - if there are any. Might be able to eat into this fog. Remember adequate provisions, fuel and all the necessary equipment. Understand? Make sure the satellite systems are functional. I imagine it will take at least four hours to navigate across and then we’ll start on the climb after wiring the perimeter. With any luck we’ll be surrounding that farmhouse by five tomorrow morning with everything in place.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Dickinson said, closing the door behind him.
For the first time that day, Stone smiled. What if this really was a wild goose chase after a lost, fabled relic? Of course, the whole idea was preposterous. But what if there was even a tiny element of truth in it? Stone clapped his hands. Then it would only be right, he thought, if I was the one to control it, to prevent others getting their hands on it, from exploiting it.
Stone twisted the ends of his silvery moustache and nodded to himself sagely at this remote possibility. Curiously, a feeling of warmth fizzled through him as he sensed that possessing ultimate power might be within his grasp.
He shook his head, but no matter what, the thought kept re-emerging. And when it did, his skin began to tingle and a curious buzz tickled the nerve-receptors in his brain.
2 DAISY RETURNS
Daisy thumped the mud repeatedly, brown flecks spraying her jeans. Her cries reverberated back in the empty void. A fight between two people she cared deeply about, in different ways, had taken place. One lay dead. The other had vanished.
As the light around her brightened with the dawn of a new day, Daisy knew that she’d witnessed something extraordinary. It was between Gus, her old school friend, a boy who had single-handedly saved Isabella’s best friend, Sue, in a tiny boat when the storm had crashed and destroyed much of the northern half of the country, and Kemp, Archie’s best friend, Mrs Pye their housekeeper’s long-lost son and Isabella’s enemy no. 1. He was also the first boy who had tugged at her heartstrings.
What was he to her? A boyfriend? A friend? A foe? An enigma?
He’d expressed his affection, his love for her. And, when they’d talked for hours, her heart had soared as she realised that the thug he portrayed was merely a shell masking his real self, like the rough, spiky husk of a chestnut protecting the soft fruit inside.
In a moment of madness, thinking that Kemp was defeated, she’d rolled a rock from under her foot. Her heart sank thinking about it. And with the same stone, Kemp had broken Gus. Poor, dear Gus whose body now lay at the mercy of some strange multi-changing beast at the other end of the ruin.
Kemp had offered to save her, to take her away. He’d offered her the chance to start again. However, the monstrous beating the boys had given one another did not obscure their enormous overall task, that of finding the three tablets that led to the Garden of Eden. Daisy knew full well that she couldn’t give up. Not yet. They had come so far, and as far as she knew, everything on planet Earth depended on their success.
Oh, the muddle.
She had to return rapidly over the almost impenetrable chaos of the Yorkshire Moors hills to their curious farmhouse, Eden Cottage. She needed to be with her brother and sister and their caretaker, Old Man Wood and Mrs Pye. More than anything else, she knew that together they needed to find the third tablet, even if it killed them.
She picked herself up, her body feeling like lead. Should she tell the others what she’d seen, or keep it to herself? She mulled this thought over as she trudged forward. If she told them about Gus, then what would Sue’s reaction be? Would Sue blame her for taking Kemp’s side rather than helping Gus out?
Isabella’s reaction — well, that was hardly worth even thinking about. And the headmaster, Solomon, who was trying to help, would he give them up? Would Solomon be so lenient if he knew she was party to a murder? After all, he’d been sent by Commissioner Stone - the man in charge of making sense and getting to the bottom of the terrible disaster. He would try and find their whereabouts, and, quite possibly, intern them all.
Daisy wiped her eyes and tucked a loose strand of her blond hair behind an ear and headed on. Carefully, she picked her way over the mud and debris-filled, barely visible track, using every ounce of concentration to enable her magical eyes, a power she’d discovered after being struck by lightning in the storm. Now, her eyes glowed like flaming torches, burning a hole through the fog. The sound of the silence accompanied her, occasionally interrupted by the distant booming of explosives way off in the distance.
The noise made her think of her friends - most of whom she knew were dead or missing. It made her remember the global pandemic in the world around her. She wondered who was blowing things up. Was it the military quashing the unrest that Sue had told her about, or people, rising in a state of panic?
Before long, familiar shapes became clearer - rocks she recognised, stumps of ancient trees, the ruts in the track now filled with water. Picking up her pace, she soon found herself back in the flag-stoned courtyard of Eden Cottage.
She removed her muddy jeans and hoodie, folding them and sliding them out of sight before lighting several candles. She listened hard - another curious power she’d discovered that enabled her to hear minute sounds when she really concentrated.
Confident no-one was up and about, she added paper, kindling and a couple of logs to the embers of a fire inside the belly of the metal range cooker, which quickly sparked into bright, orange flames. She filled the kettle and put it on the stove to make it look as if she’d arrived downstairs for an early morning cup of tea before collapsing heavily into a wooden chair next to the thick, old table.
Presently Daisy caught the distinctive squeaking noises of floorboards at the top of the house. Archie stirring, his boyish stomping down the stairs to the bathroom was a dead giveaway.
She grabbed an apple and bit into it, savouring the sweet juice that washed over her mouth. Why did Old Man Wood’s apples always make her feel better? She recalled how he’d produced the apples at the dawn of a new day in the cave they’d found themselves trapped inside. Was that two days ago already?
She put her legs up and onto the dark, thick planks of the oak tabletop, and closed her eyes as a brief moment of sleep overcame her.
Her eyes opened as she sensed someone entering the room.
