by James Erith
‘You must go,’ he snapped to Archie and Sue. ‘Come on. Chop, chop.’
‘What is it?’ Archie said, confused by the headmaster’s sudden brusque manner.
‘Trust me, Archie. You chaps need to get going this instant.’
The headmaster swivelled to Mrs Pye. ‘With any luck, my dear, we’ll catch up later with more news.’
BACK TOGETHER AGAIN IN the living room, Sue pondered ‘But if those two, Gus and Kemp, went off together, what were they doing?’
Archie shrugged. ‘Beats me. Not as if they would have slipped off to have a kickabout with a football. Gus hates footy.’
‘Perhaps, there is some comfort in the thought,’ Solomon added, ‘that at least they were together. I’m inclined to agree that Isabella’s theory about being snatched by a wild beast might be a little far-fetched.’
‘But they hate each other,’ Isabella said. ‘The question is, why would friendly, nice-guy Gus want to go off with a jerk like Kemp. Kemp is trouble. The only reason I can see that they would go anywhere is to beat each other up. I think Kemp challenged him and Gus couldn’t resist.’
Archie rubbed his chin. ‘Or the other way around. Sparks were flying between them just before the storm. You remember, Daisy?’
Daisy squirmed. She just wanted to do something — anything — rather than sit in the living room discussing Gus and Kemp’s mysterious disappearance.
‘Kemp is still a jerk,’ Isabella said.
‘He’s not a jerk,’ Archie fired back. ‘He’s had a shocking childhood, something you couldn’t recognise, and, he’s Mrs Pye’s long-lost son—’
‘Archie, I don’t care. He is a brute who goes out of his way to intimidate people—’
‘Watch your tongue, Isabella.’
‘No, I won’t. He’s a good-for-nothing moron, Archie. If I were Gus, I’d have beaten him up long ago.’
Archie’s hair was beginning to harden. ‘You’re saying you don’t beat him up with words, Isabella?’
‘If you can’t see what a loser he is,’ Isabella stormed, ‘you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. How you choose to hang out with him makes me sick—’
‘You think you’re so superior,’ Archie seethed, ‘but you’re a selfish bully in your own right—’
‘Stop it! Stop it, both of you!’ Daisy cried.
She stood up, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘I told you, I was there.’
‘Really?’
Daisy stood up, stared out of the window and turned. ‘And you’re right, Bells. They went to fight each other.’
‘Ha! I told you!’
‘Be silent, Isabella,’ Solomon boomed. ‘We need to hear this. Daisy…’
The room fell quiet.
Daisy summoned her strength. ‘It was a set-up. A set-up to see who goes with this weird buddy of Kemp … this ghost. He promised to save one of them.’
The others stared at her.
‘I’m sorry,’ Solomon asked, kindly, ‘but who is going to save who?’
Daisy rubbed her brow. ‘Kemp’s mysterious friend is going to save either Gus or Kemp. Do you know why? Because this companion, or ghost, or whatever it is, knows every detail about our task and it told them that we haven’t got a chance in hell of succeeding.’
Old Man Wood leaned in. ‘Who is this “companion” you talk of?’
‘I don’t know,’ Daisy said. ‘It’s a spirit that somehow blends into Kemp and then, together, they disappear.’
Old Man Wood shook his head trying to make some sense out of it.
‘According to this ghost, the third tablet is sitting somewhere under the ruin. It is guarded—’
‘You saw the tablet?’ Isabella asked.
‘No. I told you, I just followed them up there.’
Isabella rubbed her hands together. ‘But you saw the beast?’
‘Yes, I did, Isabella,’ she replied, curtly.
‘What’s it like?’
‘As far as I could tell,’ Daisy said, not holding back. ‘It is the bollocks—’
‘The what?!’ Solomon exclaimed.
Daisy reddened. ‘Oh! Sorry. From what I heard, it can do amazing things—’ she said, fanning her face.
‘What sort of things,’ Isabella said, her voice wavering.
‘It can morph—’
‘What is morph?’ the headmaster queried.
‘Morph - you know, change - into different things,’ she began, ‘It alters its shape, from one type of reptile to another, at will—‘
‘How on earth can it do that?’
‘I don’t know!’ Daisy replied, her voice exasperated. ‘I heard them talking about it. The ghost told them this creature couldn’t lose,’ her voice went quiet. ‘Said it had beaten armies on its own.’
Silence filled the room.
‘That’s it! I’m not going!’ Isabella spat, stamping the floor. ‘I can’t — it’s going to rip us apart, tear us limb from limb.’
Daisy rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. ‘You have to, Bells’ she said. ‘Look, we’ve been through this over and over, every single time. None of us particularly fancy the prospect, but, for some weird reason, saving the planet - as we know it - appears to be up to us. We have to try.’
Isabella shook. ‘I AM NOT GOING!’ she roared.
Daisy stood and faced her. ‘YES, YOU ARE, Isabella!’
The girls stared at one another until Archie pushed his way between them. ‘Calm down, both of you. Arguing will not help us find the third tablet or Gus.’ He turned to his elder sister. ‘Isabella, you know we have to do this and I, for one, am not giving up without a fight.’
5 CROSSING THE FLOODWATERS
For several minutes the throb of the engine, pulling the other rib behind it, was all the troops could hear.
Occasionally a scrape on the frame of the rubber husk of the rib made the men turn anxiously towards one another and peer nervously overboard. Due to the thick, dense fog and the black night, there was little choice but to follow the dots on the bright screen of the satellite communication device.
Checking the readings, they were nearly halfway across. Having started on the side of the Dales, they were heading towards the hills of the Yorkshire Moors on the other. Depth-metre monitors flickered from one reading to the next, blipping to alert them when the water became shallow and potentially unnavigable.
Going was slow, the chugging, buzzing engine working at quarter throttle. While the soldiers sat alert to every sound and jar, the gentle vibration of the motors made Stone feel drowsy. After long hours of trying to make head or tail of the sudden, catastrophic events, which was now a global problem, the commissioner shut his eyes.
An hour later a jolt set him awake.
Soldiers prodded sticks into the water around.
‘What is it now?’ he croaked.
‘An obstruction, sir. Something under the boat mucking up the propellers.’
‘The depth reading?’
‘We’re in deep water, sir. Just trying to find out what it is - a net or something that hasn’t been picked up by the sensors.’
The crew sat nervously in the boats as two men from the lead vessel, levered up the propeller and others fished under the ribs with sticks.
‘Can’t seem to find anything, Sir.’
‘What’s the noise?’ Stone said, peering overboard. ‘Quiet!’ he ordered.
Around them, the water jumped, like a boiling kettle.
‘We noticed the blobbing noise about ten minutes ago, sir,’ a rough, stockily built, semi-bearded trooper called Jenkins said. ‘Comes back every so often, like the sound of pebbles hitting the water — all around us.’
They listened.
‘I reckon it’s fish,’ Lambert, a squat, shaven-haired soldier from the leading boat, yelled out. ‘Reminds me of the shoals we used to see off the coast of Belize, sir.’
‘Fish? What the hell, Lambert?’ Stone said before calling out to the other boat, ‘what's your reading?’
&nb
sp; ‘Just over fifteen metres, sir. Might be over a river. Could be the River Wiske.’
Stone played with the ends of his moustache. ‘The depth-meters share the same reading. They're correct. What do you suggest, Lambert - what would fish be doing under the boat?’
‘Swimming?’
‘Yes, very funny. Any more wisecracks and you’ll be joining them. Is that clear, soldier?’
Lambert coughed, realising that now wasn’t the time or place. ‘Maybe something's wedged up under the boat. We could try accelerating - see if we can ride through it?’
Stone scratched his chin. ‘OK, let’s give it a try. But steady - you’ve got a lot of kit in here that I don’t want to lose. For heaven’s sake, don’t let the boats separate.’
As the navigator pulled the throttle back, the engine roared, and petrol exhaust filled their nostrils. The boat lurched forward jagging the men back and forth. Under the vessel, a chopping, slicing noise rang out as the metal propeller grated and strained and thrashed. Then, it juddered to a halt altogether, bubbles rising to the surface of the water close to the outboard motor.
Stone cursed. ‘Jesus. What is going on?’
‘The propeller’s stuffed, sir,’ Geddis said, peering over the edge.
‘Another clever one, aren’t you,’ Stone replied, sarcastically.
Jenkins stretched out a hand, dangled it in the water and then drew it back in. In his cupped hand sat a small amount of flood-water. ‘It bloody stinks,’ he said. An acrid smell swept over both crews.
‘Oi, Lambert, shine a torch over here a minute, mate.’
The soldier moved along the side of the other rib and swung the beam of a powerful white LED lantern from the water’s surface to Jenkins.
‘Not at me, you idiot. At my bleedin’ hands,’ Jenkins exclaimed, holding them up.
The torch rested on his cupped hands, which trailed red stains.
‘Christ, mate,’ Lambert shouted over, in disgust. ‘That’s not water. It’s…’
‘Blood,’ Jenkins said, as he sniffed his hands. ‘Fish blood, I reckon. We’ve been mincing fish under there.’
‘Why would fish want to get into our propellers,' Stone yelled. 'And why are there so many?’
‘They’re everywhere and they’ve clogged up the propeller, I reckon,’ Lambert said as he turned to the other crew members. They leaned in. ‘What if it’s … you know, NOT fish, but… you know, human…’
As the boats sat in the silent envelope of fog, the flood water rippling meekly under their bows, the soldiers exchanged worried glances.
The fear of death touched them, the stench of decay filling their nostrils.
Stone’s irritated tone cut through the fog. ‘For God’s sake, get on with it you lot. You're supposed to be professionals. Switch the boats around; we’ll pull you. Lucky both weren’t in operation, or you lot would be rowing to the moors.
‘Lambert and Dickinson – pick up the rear. And everyone,’ he shouted, ‘please don’t waste any more time. We’ve been splashing around here for twenty minutes, and, as you’re all fully aware, time is the one thing we don’t have.’
They hastily unfastened the ropes but, at the exact moment the painter was thrown from one boat to the other, a sudden ripple, a wave, divided the boats instantly pushing them apart. A beat later and the fog had eaten them up, surrounding each like thick, white paste.
Stone, like all the others, didn’t notice until it was too late. ‘I don’t believe it. Why wasn’t the other boat secured?’ he roared now that he couldn’t even see the other rib. ‘What the heck is going on? Dickinson, Lambert, get your rib back over here.’
‘We’re being pulled away, sir. And fast,’ a voice replied from the blank wall.
‘Row. Use the bleedin’ oars, man. Now!’
As the soldiers called out to one another, a more significant wave shuttled between the gap, followed by a lurching movement through the waters.
Silence descended over them.
‘It’s like there’s a sodding great whale under us,’ Lambert, in boat two, said, his voice loud enough for the crew to hear.
All along, Dickinson had been deathly silent, hating every moment. ‘Something really doesn’t want us to get any further,’ he said. ‘We’ll inspect the propeller later. As Stone said, get those oars out, gentlemen, we’re going to have to row.’
Lambert sidled up to Dickinson. ‘Don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy swimming for our lives in this fish-pit if we can help it. What we’re doing smells wrong. All wrong.’
6 TENSIONS RISE
Solomon and Sue excused themselves and went to the kitchen.
Old Man Wood coughed. ‘Bells, Archie’s right,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing more I know, other than the next task will take us into a great labyrinth under the ruins. The memory trees at the Bubbling Brook that I found had no more information. You see, I never told them the secrets of the third tablet,’ he said, pausing for a beat, choosing his words thoughtfully. ‘When … when I originally put these spells into place…’
‘WHAT!’ Isabella exploded. ‘You mean, you, Old Man Wood, are responsible for this incredible mess?!’
Old Man Wood’s huge wrinkles scrunched together. ‘I, er, I,’ he stuttered, trying to find the right words. ‘A long time ago I told the trees at the Bubbling Brook about the first two tablets, but the third, and the labyrinth, I never discussed with anybody,' he blurted out. I’m afraid I have no idea what’s in store for us. But my gut tells me this beast might not be very friendly.’
‘Great!’ Isabella fumed. ‘I can’t believe it, and frankly, I’m too frightened to care. I don’t want to be a part of US anymore. You know, maybe this ghost has a point. How can we beat a beast that can get inside your head and then change into different creatures!’
‘Hang on a minute,’ Archie said. ‘Who said anything about it getting inside your head?’
‘Oh, let’s take a wild guess,’ Daisy began. ‘She probably dreamed about it, but forgot to tell us!’
‘Is that right?’ Archie asked.
Isabella bowed her head and nodded.
‘Hey, thanks!’ Archie said, ‘thanks so much for sharing. You know, Bells, we’re in this together - don’t think the last few days have happened just to entertain us while Mum and Dad are away. This is real,’ he said, calmly. ‘We’re in it up to our necks because we’ve been chosen - I have no idea why - but it’s probably because we’re related to Old Man Wood who’s an old wizard of some sort. Aren’t you?’
Old Man Wood was slightly embarrassed. No one had called him a wizard for many hundreds of years. He was a little overcome. ‘I think I used to be pretty good—’
‘Good? Seriously?’ Isabella said, incredulously. ‘I don’t know about that,’ she poked a finger through the penny-sized hole in her palms, the result of resisting a lightning strike.
‘Are you suggesting Old Man Wood isn’t a good wizard?’ Daisy said, taking over from Archie.
‘Well, he hasn’t exactly showered himself in glory—’
Daisy’s red eyes bored into Isabella. ‘You know what, I’m not interested in what you think Bells,’ Daisy snapped. ‘And I’m fed up trying to explain.’
‘I’m not tough like you,’ Isabella countered, her arms flailing. ‘I can’t do it. Leave me out of it.’
The heat in the room was increasing once again.
‘Please, Bells!’ Archie remonstrated. ‘Haven’t you learnt anything from the dreams, the trials, the water, the cave, the riddles, the first two tablets? It took ALL of us to do it. Not one, or two of us, but all three of us. We wouldn’t be here without you and vice-versa.’
‘I just don’t care anymore!’ Isabella answered, her eyes full of tears.
‘Don’t care? You HAVE to care,’ Archie fired back. ‘This only stops when we find the tablets. Sue’s life, Gus’ life, Mum and Dad’s – everyone’s lives depend on you – ON US—’
The tension in the room h
ad reached a breaking point. Sue and the headmaster reappeared with a tray crammed with mugs of tea and an assortment of biscuits and set them down quietly in the corner.
Old Man Wood calmly spoke. ‘Now, littluns, before you tear yourselves apart, there’s something I think we should do.’
From his coat pocket, he produced the first stone tablet, no bigger than an ordinary paperback book, the top etched in gold with a tree of life emblem. He set it down on the table. From his other pocket he pulled out the second, identical in every way.
‘I’ve been thinking about this,’ the old man said. ‘It makes sense put these two tablets together and see what happens.’
They all watched as Old Man Wood carefully placed the second tablet on top of the first. As he did, sparks splayed out from the sides like metal on a sharpening wheel, and a hissing sound, like air escaping from a balloon, filled the room.
Automatically, everyone stepped back.
Now, a sticky, steaming, melting reaction seemed to take place as the tablets appeared to glue themselves together. When this had finished, a burst of multi-coloured glitter fizzed into the air like a sparkly fountain.
The fizzing ceased and they saw the tablets now locked and sealed together as one complete block, with no signs of any joins or glue. A deep rumble of thunder shook the building, rattling the windows.
The children, the headmaster and Sue looked at one another, the colour draining from their faces.
‘Blimey,’ Daisy gasped. ‘If that’s what happens with two, what’s going to happen if all three come together?’
7 ANOTHER WORLD REVEALED
‘Look!’ Daisy said. ‘The top! It’s changing.’
Everyone collectively hesitated, neither moving forward nor backing off, to inspect the new, larger tablet.
As they looked on, the top of the tablet, which bore a simple, balanced, almost geometrical golden pattern, gave way to a moving image that started to leach out of the sides and the top like a gas.
Soon, growing out of the tablet were the stalks and leaves of unfurling plants, followed by trees and beasts and sky and light. The image was spewing into the room in three dimensions, surrounding the onlookers.
