by James Erith
‘It’s a massive hologram,’ Archie cried, laughing. ‘A landscape…’
Daisy dropped to her knees and held her hands out. ‘Hey, Archie! Fields, woods, lakes, animals.’ She looked down. ‘Weird rabbity things. It’s beautiful—’
‘Where is this, Old Man Wood?’ Archie asked, twisting to the old man whose face was cracked with emotion, his lips quivering.
‘It’s like we’re … in a picture’ Sue said, running over to Isabella. ‘It’s wonderful!’
The image expanded quickly and quietly, as the countryside they were going through surrounded them and stretched ahead so that soon all they could see was a whole new world in every direction. Before long, they were standing in a prairie-like landscape on one side amidst unfamiliar coloured grasses with all sorts of trees on the other.
‘I can feel the heat of the sun,’ Sue said, splaying her hands open to the sky. ‘Lovely and warm.’
‘And listen!’ Solomon said, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. ‘If I’m not mistaken, the wind is playing a tune with the leaves on the trees … like tree-music!’
Isabella sniffed. ‘Sue, can you smell that?’
‘Scent?’
‘Roses and eucalyptus and pine and lavender and, oooh, a kind of sweet mint,’ she closed her eyes, drinking it in.
‘Pink grass!’ Daisy said, inspecting the blades beneath her feet. ‘Moving in time as though it’s grooving … singing … can you hear it, Arch?’
Archie’s jaw was almost on the floor. ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘Hey, look! Over there! The trees! They're moving! Walking, or waltzing; exactly as Old Man Wood used to tell us in his stories!’
They watched the scene unfurl around them, discovering new creatures, plants and life-forms with every passing moment.
‘It’s like “Tree-Strictly-Come Dancing”,’ Daisy whispered.
‘There’s a family of oak-trees, I think, over there,’ Isabella said, squinting. ‘They’re playing in the water!’
As they watched, the group found themselves moving through the changing landscape as though on an invisible, silent, non-existent hovercraft.
Old Man Wood watched, intrigued, especially when they floated towards a huge apple tree laden with fruit.
‘Have you ever seen such juicy apples?’ he said. ‘They’re the size of your footballs, eh, Daisy!’
Soon, they came to a large pool where an assortment of birds dive-bombed with timed precision and, re-emerged, squirting water over one another.
Without warning a sharp ear-splitting noise smashed into the scene.
The children froze. As one, they instinctively ducked and covered their ears.
In the picture, a scene of panic emerged.
Strange animals, some singular, others in packs, ran wildly, their eyes wide in fright. More charged past, roaring, screaming, tooting wildly.
Huge trees and even small grasses darted here and there trying to get out of each other’s way, stampeding further into the image.
The onlookers crouched down, covering their heads, muffling their ears as evil roars and cries of death and destruction filled the room.
Above, the sky filled with black clouds.
The stench of fear, of blood and death and acrid fumes filled their nostrils.
Wherever they looked, screams and howls of pain surrounded every one of them.
A blast of heat - not fire, but a furnace-like white-heat shot through the picture, withering leaves, shrivelling everything in sight.
In moments all that remained were the burned-out skeleton of the big apple tree and a vast, smoking expanse of grey, smooth ash. Then the branches crashed to the ground, followed by the bough breaking in two as it disintegrated as dust upon the earth.
Seconds later, the scene was sucked back into the tablet as if by a giant, unseen vacuum.
The living room was back as it always had been. Floral curtains covered the window, Old Man Wood’s old leather armchair sat, as it always did, by the fire, the sofa remained covered in the blanket from the night before, and the assortment of pictures the children had pulled off the walls the previous day, surrounded them.
The three de Lowes, Sue, Solomon and Old Man Wood slowly unfurled themselves, stood up, and dusted off imaginary specks and mopped their sweaty brows.
On the tablet, the neat image of a tree had been replaced by a rose, carved into its upturned face.
And, resting neatly on top, lay a tiny musical instrument.
Daisy was the first to react. ‘The tablet!’ she gasped, stepping closer. ‘A mini harp — or something.’
The others followed her lead. Tentatively, they edged towards it.
She picked up the instrument, which was no longer than the palm of her hand and carved from silvery wood in the shape of a tall ‘C’. Several taut strings stretched from top to bottom.
Solomon wiped his hands, rubbed his glasses and joined her. Nestling his specs back on the end of his nose, he said, ‘I do believe it is a kind of mini lyre.’
‘A liar?’ Daisy said, thickly. ‘What makes you think it’s lying?’
‘My dear,’ Solomon said, containing himself. ‘A lyre is an ancient musical instrument, often depicted in Greek mythology.’
‘What’s it for?’
‘Music, dur brain,’ Archie quipped. ‘Obviously.’
Daisy turned to him, her eyes blazing. ‘Maybe it’s for calling someone, Archie,’ she said.
‘But if so, who?’ Isabella said.
Daisy looked at her. ‘How should I know?’
The lyre passed from one hand to another.
‘My guess is,’ Daisy said, ‘that we have to play it.’
Archie reached for it again.
‘No, Archie. Please. You’ll break it,’ Isabella snapped, whisking the tiny instrument away from him. ‘What happened in the picture, Old Man Wood?’ she said. ‘Everything died and vanished to dust. Why? Why did it all suddenly change? Where did it all go?’
‘It didn’t go anywhere,’ he coughed, his voice croaky with emotion. Tear marks stained his weathered cheeks.
‘You alright, Old Man Wood?’
The old man smiled. ‘Yes. It’s just…’ the others leaned in. ‘What we saw, I believe, was a piece of the Great Closing of the Garden of Eden.' He sat down heavily in his armchair. 'It’s the place I come from,' he continued. 'Once, it was so beautiful, so plentiful, a world full of joy and invention. The Garden of Eden bore the hope and inspiration for all of nature.’
‘But what happened?’ Isabella asked, placing the lyre back on the tablets.
‘The Garden of Eden burned itself to the ground, littlun,’ he said, quietly. ‘Burned itself to prevent its secrets passing into the wrong hands, into the wrong worlds.’ He wiped his eyes, pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose rather too loudly.
Before anyone had a chance to ask him more, the lyre began to play all by itself, melodic sounds reverberating through the house. They listened to the notes, which danced and sang, warbling like a nightingale one moment, then hollow and haunting the next. The melody reached into the core of each and everyone in the room, massaging the souls of those who heard it with a profound sense of energy and love.
When it ceased, a strange contented silence hung in the room.
Old Man Wood stretched his arms out, his wrinkled face coming alive. ‘I am apple-sure the Willows told me about this,’ he said. ‘I believe it is known as the “Song of Awakening”. Legend has it that its notes reach all those who may help.’ He turned to the children. ‘If that is the case, it is time to face your task.’
He clapped Isabella on the shoulders and searched her eyes. ‘The Garden of Eden is waiting to be re-born, my dear, lovely child. You cannot ignore Mother Nature’s wishes. Together, Isabella, and as one, we must gain the third tablet.’
8 SOLOMON UPDATES THE HEIRS
Solomon stood in the corner nursing a brain ache as if he’d eaten an entire tub of ice-cream in one mouthful.
&
nbsp; His body shook uncontrollably, and his heart thumped so loudly, he thought he might suffer a heart-attack. He took off his glasses and grabbed several deep breaths to calm himself down.
Never in his wildest dreams had he expected this. His investigations had led him to believe that something strange and alien was going on. But nothing quite so earth-shattering. Nothing that might challenge every belief system known to humankind.
He had no doubts about what he had to do next.
He moved into the middle of the room and coughed. ‘That, my dear friends,’ he began, ‘was quite immense — more a word you’d use, perhaps, Daisy. But, there is something you must know before you go, and go you must, in haste.’ Solomon patted his belly, selecting his words.
‘While in Mrs Pye’s room, I detected a surveillance device which, I suspect, links directly to Commissioner Stone. While I now understand the deep gravity of your situation,’ he said as earnestly as he could, ‘it pains me to tell you that Stone has every intention of finding you and interrogating you so that he might get to the bottom of the mystery. Believe me when I tell you that our world is toppling, like dominos, into a cataclysmic disaster. It must not happen.’ He smiled his knowing, headmasterly smile at them.
‘Stone has significant means at his disposal to find you and to harm you. He will hinder you in his quest for what I can only describe as his own “truth”, whatever that may be.’
Solomon fiddled with his glasses momentarily. ‘He will have studied the camera images, and the moment he has noticed something at odds with what we have told him, he will come down with everything he can muster on you, and on this property. And knowing the man, I can tell you this. He will not give an inch until he has you in his grasp.
‘Sue and I have so far done what we can to divert suspicion away, but if he has seen any of you, he will come here, fast. You must hurry and be wary. Typically, they will have set off at dawn and, even though it is like pea soup out there, his force will be plentiful, highly skilled and motivated.’ He nodded sagely to himself, pausing for dramatic effect, his eyes flicking from one face to the next.
‘I wasn’t going to tell you, but I have no choice. Your problem is now a world problem. The damage of the Ebora virus now reaches into every corner of the globe,’ he paused again as all eyes stared at him. ‘The Americans are due to annihilate the region of Upsall.’
The children looked upon their headmaster in shock. ‘Bomb Yorkshire?!’ Archie said.
‘Yes. In two days’ time, with a very large device,’ Solomon continued.
‘They’re going to nuke us?’ Daisy spluttered.
Solomon nodded. ‘The idea, dear Daisy, is that if the source of the outbreak is nullified, it will cease—‘
‘That’s insane,’ Isabella said.
‘Indeed, it is. But can you really blame them?’ Solomon asked. ‘After all, with the world slipping into meltdown at such lightning speed, they must be seen to be doing something.’
Archie did a small calculation. ‘Two days is the end of our seven days,’ he said quietly. ‘So, if we haven’t got the tablets, we’re history anyway. Unless, of course, they jump the gun, or you’ve got the dates wrong.’
‘How can you be certain he’s seen us?’ Isabella asked. ‘We’ve hardly been up to Mrs Pye’s flat. Only Sue’s spent time over there, and Stone knows about her anyway.’
Solomon shook his head. ‘I noticed a hidden camera on one of the picture frames. Even though the camera was facing away from where you three stood when you visited Mrs Pye, there is one person who will not have escaped his notice. Yet again, he has escaped ours.’
The de Lowes regarded each other quizzically. ‘Who’s that?’ Archie asked.
‘It seems that everywhere we go, the boy wreaks havoc, whether he means it or not. Why, Kemp, my dear friends. Stone will have seen Kemp.’
9 BRANCHWAND
‘A gift has been given,’ Gaia, the curious spider-looking dreamspinner, said, speaking by way of rapid vibrations in her legs. ‘Abel’s spirit has requested that it should be returned to his father, Adam.’
She reached into the hole in her abdomen where a churning mass of blue electrical currents flashed randomly and pulled out a gold nugget — like a small stud. She held it in the air with a long pincer on the end of a thin, wiry leg. With a flash, the golden stud transformed into a long silvery-golden sparkling twig.
Genesis, the mother dreamspinner, who had spun the Tripodean dream containing the prophecy to the three Heirs of Eden, Isabella, Archie and Daisy, reached over and tapped the glowing twig with the end of a long bony claw. Through three deep black eyes, she stared at it, momentarily mesmerised.
‘This, Gaia,’ she began, ‘is what humans called a “Branchwand”.’
Gaia laid the stick across two of her six long, slender, black and grey-stripped thinly-haired legs and admired how it glimmered, rotating it with one of her other limbs, studying the pleasing engravings of an ancient script that flowed down the slender stem. As she did this, the branchwand flashed from gold to green to silver and from blue to red and back to gold. With another tap of her claw and a tiny flash, the twig returned to a small pinhead again.
Gaia was enthralled. ‘Is this a magic branchwand given by the Tree of Knowledge from the Garden of Eden?’
‘Yes,’ Genesis said. ‘The Tree sleeps in the Atrium of the Garden of Eden, waiting for life to return, waiting for the powers of creation to resume.’
Genesis tapped the stud again making the glowing sprig reappear. ‘Like the Ancient Woman, Eve, the tree bides its time until the Heirs from Earth, or from Havilah, unlock the key to its rebirth,’ Genesis said, referring to the planet on which the ghost, Cain lived. ‘Four branchwands were cut. Only three given: one for Adam and one for Eve so that they might protect themselves in their new environments after the great closing of Eden. Another was given to the dragon beast, Gorialla Yingarna, to use if it ever gained its freedom from the labyrinth. Do you know the story?’
Gaia vibrated a negative response.
‘After the creation planet of Eden had been closed, Adam went to Earth. There, he introduced fish and plants to the sea, animals and organisms to the land and birds and wind and rain to the air. After Adam had enabled the roots of the trees and plants to push into the soil and established organisms to clean up the seasonal litter, he gave the planet order and balance. After this, a labyrinth was built to contain Gorialla Yingarna for the time when the prophecy would come around so that the Garden of Eden might be reborn.
'Earth settled. Time slipped by. Adam realised he didn’t need his branchwand anymore, so he requested its removal, lest this powerful tool of magic was discovered and used in the wrong way. The spirit of Abel, the brother of Cain, was entrusted to its safekeeping.’
Genesis, the ancient dreamspinner tapped the branchwand, and it reverted to its smaller pin state. ‘Now it must be returned to its rightful owner.’
Suddenly, all around them, a strange, beautiful, melodious, yet haunting sound filled the air, vibrations reaching out into every corner of the ether.
Genesis shifted. ‘The lyre sings the Song of Awakening. The trial for the third book is about to commence. It is a battle to the death - the Heirs win, or they lose. There is no middle way. Take the branchwand to Adam this moment. Hurry. The Heirs do not know what lies in wait and the old man needs his tools. There is nothing to lose but all to gain, Gaia. I do not wish to see Gorialla Yingarna devouring the Heirs of Eden in such a way as it described.’
Although haggard by time and grave in her demeanour, Genesis raised herself up on her back legs so that her maghole fizzled impressively like a lightning-streaked orb in her middle.
‘It is your duty now, Gaia, to make sure dreams come true. Use dream-powders that will make him remember how to use his branchwand. Do this before they meet Gorialla Yingarna. Give the branchwand back to the old man in any way you can. Cain and Gorialla Yingarna may be up to their old tricks, but we have a few ourselves.’
10 FAREWELLS ARE SAID
‘Archie, Daisy,’ Solomon said. ‘I have an idea that might help — before the curtain rises.’
The twins shifted closer.
‘Do you have any sound amplification appliances?’
Daisy and Archie looked at each other.
‘A gramophone with batteries, perhaps, or, a wireless set?’
Archie stuttered. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.’
Solomon smiled badly. ‘I’m after an electronically-based musical sound-system device that might deter Stone and his cronies.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Archie said. ‘A radio! Mum and Dad might have one in their room. I’ll go and check.’
He rushed upstairs and emerged shortly with an old, blue Roberts radio. ‘Is this what you mean? I’m not sure if it works.’
He turned it on, and a low fizzing and whistling sound came out. He twisted one of the nobs and, after hearing crackles, a noise emerged of a couple in a discussion, their low tones broadcast out of the small speaker.
‘Excellent,’ Solomon said, patting it lightly. ‘I hope the batteries are reasonably fresh. It might just help, who knows. Any unusual sounds out there in the fog might give our foe the willies. Now, time for you two to get on.’
Archie slipped his tight black jeans inside his leather walking boots and tied the laces. He placed his beanie on top of his head spikes and pulled the zip up on his sleeveless, dark green leather-padded hunting jacket.
Daisy tied her blond hair in a bun, donned her pink-lensed glasses then slipped into a neat, tight, light brown leather coat with a wool collar and matching leather trousers. She knocked her lace-up boots together, spraying mud over the floor.
‘Where the hell did you get that?’ Isabella asked, stroking the jacket.
‘Found it in Mums cupboard. You’d be amazed at the amount of awesome stuff in there. Jackets, boots, trousers, hats – you name it.’
