by James Erith
They looked back to see the rose sway first one way and then the other.
‘Move … run!’
With a thunderous crash, the thorny rambler slipped off the podium, water spraying in every direction.
‘I’ve got a better plan,’ Isabella said. ‘The tunnels go round on themselves — up and back, up and back — and so forth. If we go through the walls - it’ll be quicker.
‘And how do you propose to do this small engineering miracle,’ Archie asked. ‘A mechanical tunnel mole?’
Isabella rolled her eyes. ‘We dig.’
‘Dig?’ Daisy said. ‘With what?’
‘Whatever we can find?’
‘You’re crazy! It’ll take months,’ Daisy said. ‘And besides,’ she smiled, ‘it’ll ruin my nails.’
‘Daisy,’ Isabella fumed, ‘no it won’t, we’ll use the…’ the metal torch holders caught her eye. ‘Those burning sconce-things on the wall. Old Man Wood can magic something up with his wand-thing, can’t you?’
Old Man Wood tipped his head as though it was possible.
She gestured towards Archie’s damaged leg, ‘Arch, this has to be the best way, so don’t argue with me – every second counts.’ Isabella marched off to the side, grabbed one of the burning braziers in her hands and ripped it off the wall. ‘Archie, divide them into picks.’
‘You’re mad,’ he said. ‘They’re red-hot.’
‘Wrong,’ Isabella replied. ‘I’ve taken the heat out. Try it.’ She kicked at the wall. A mini avalanche of stone tumbled out. ‘The walls may look like stone, but they’re not. Daisy, what material are they made of?’
Daisy trained her eyes at the wall. ‘It isn’t thick rock — more like gravel or sandstone or something.’
‘As I suspected,’ Isabella replied. ‘Then it shouldn’t be a problem. Now, get out of my way!’
She hacked at the first wall and in no time at all they had made a hole large enough for them to squeeze through.
‘Quick!’ Isabella cried, helping them through. Shortly, she was attacking the second wall, her hands moving like a blur.
‘How many more?’ Daisy asked, noticing a fresh trickle of blood running down the inside of her jacket and over her fingers.
‘Nine or ten. I wasn’t counting,’ Archie said.
Breaking through the next wall they ran across the passage. Isabella resumed her whirlwind digging. Archie watched amazed. Half way through he pulled her back.
‘Let me,’ he said, and before anyone could move, head down, he charged, limping at the wall like a bull, smashing through with his head and shoulders and finding the new passageway. He tossed the debris free.
As they tunneled through the next wall an ear splitting noise filled the labyrinth.
‘Good Lord,’ Isabella said, dread in her voice. ‘It’s free…’
She returned to her digging re-doubling her efforts, sweat mixing with mud and rock, caked their bodies.
Another ear-splitting noise reverberated down the passageways.
This time it wasn’t a bark. This was the noise of a wounded animal; deeper and longer in pitch, wilder, furious. It was followed by a heart-stopping YELP.
Then silence.
‘Either it’s a cry of deep despair … or it’s coming to get us,’ Daisy said. ‘How many more?’
‘At least five,’ Isabella said, nervously. Her hands, now shaped like various digging implements, flew at the tunnel, mud and rocks spraying all over the place, until the hole was deep enough for Archie to bash his way through again.
One at a time they climbed into the new passageway. Archie pulled the old man through.
Daisy listened again. Her face pale and drawn as she struggled to make sense of the distant sounds.
Isabella marched over to the wall.
‘Wait!’ Daisy commanded.
‘What is it?’
Daisy tuned in, her eyes closed, concentrating.
‘Well—’
Her frown gave it away.
‘My God. It’s coming, isn’t it?’ Isabella said, as she made to attack the next wall.
Then, as if Gorialla Yingarna had heard her, its voice bounced around the passageways and into their heads.
Strange, high-pitched laughter filled the hallway.
You’re only half-way, children of man. Would you like to do a deal?
Isabella ceased digging. ‘There has to be another way—’
…Which of you will watch me tear the others into pieces…
‘Like, what?’ Daisy said, wincing, the pain of her wound throbbing through her body.
Isabella swivelled towards Old Man Wood. ‘Can’t you do something with that branchwandy thing of yours?’
Old Man Wood shook his head.
‘You must be able to. Why isn’t it working?’
‘The beast has one too, littlun. The branchwands appear to have struck a deal to cancel each other out.’
Isabella studied him curiously. ‘The branchwands “talk” to one another? Great. I don’t mean to put a dampener on it, but I don’t fancy our chances alone in these tunnels without all those animals.’
‘I don’t know,’ Archie piped up. ‘What if it’s bluffing? It has to eat — it must be starving. Think about it, we’ve had it on the run for hours and it’s cold-blooded. It’ll have to go directly for its next meal.’
Isabella rounded on him. ‘Don’t you get it, Archie. We’re the next meal. If it’s got any sense, it’s going to eat us!’
Daisy ears pricked, her face twitching as distant sounds came to her.
‘Daisy, what is it? It’s on it’s way?’
‘Yup, got it,’ she said. ‘Bit smaller this time, and slithering.’
‘Where?’ Isabella demanded.
‘En-route … three tunnels behind’
She swore and resumed her earthworks. ‘Come on!’
‘Wait!’ Daisy said, a faraway look on her face. The corners of her mouth turned up. ‘You want another way out of this?’
They nodded.
A smile spread over her increasingly pale face. She nodded sagely as she listened, and her eyes twinkled. ‘Well, my dears. I do believe transport is on its way!’
46 GUS FOLLOWS
Gus cautiously pushed his arms into Old Man Wood’s coat and rolled the sleeves up, the coattail brushing the passageway behind him as he set off again.
When Gus arrived at the entrance to the chamber, he spied the footprints again. Relieved that they had survived up to this point, he checked the area out for signs of life.
But once again, nothing but burnt animal and bird carcasses littered the ground. Fire marks bruised the floor and the walls.
Quietly, Gus crept into the chamber and sidled around the edges, keeping close to the sides.
He followed the stream to a pool in the centre where, in the middle, there was a classical-styled stone construction like some kind of stone sacrificial altar.
To the side of this lay a vast, strange plant spread out all over the ground in front, blanketed in tiny sharks-teeth-like thorns. A dog rose, Gus supposed, on a gigantic scale? Looking at the stem, he could see that the rambling rose had, at some point, fractured and fallen, crashing from a great height.
Furthermore, a great struggle had ensued within it. Streaks of a curious white liquid stained the stone looking like a severe case of mildew. Thorns were dislodged from their stems and lay scattered over the ground.
Peering inside the confines of the creeper, he spied a gigantic, white skin.
Gus froze. A snakeskin?
For some time he stared at it, baffled, trying to envisage what had happened. And the more he stared, the more he kept coming back to the same conclusion. It had to be a snake. But this was one hell of a snake. A super-anaconda? But even a beast of this size wasn’t nearly big enough for the extensive tracts of skin. Was this the creature that Cain had told him and Kemp about? The creature that had never been bested?
He followed more tracks to the opposite side not
icing how, in places, the rock appeared scorched. From here, and from the markings on the dusty surface, he wondered if, at some point, they’d thrown themselves into the gully that he now found himself looking at.
He jumped in and touched the surfaces. Warm, like the outer edges of an Aga cooker.
Gus heard the swift sounds of hooves going at full tilt down the passageway. He ducked down.
Moments later, four horses, like a white blur, flashed into the chamber. They stopped as though inspecting the damage, reared up and shot off down the exit passageway on the far side.
Gus wondered if he was seeing things. The sparkle, the energy, the twisting, straight spikes on their heads? Were they what he thought they might be?
Gus followed. Footprints interspersed with galloping hoof marks followed the passageway to its end. To his astonishment, the wall directly in front had a hole through it. Had a massive snake simply bulldozed through the walls? Thinking about it made his blood run cold. As he pushed gravel to one side, he noticed a black stain smearing the limestone rock.
Instinctively he reached out to touch it, but he found this this wasn’t the same as the liquid stuck to the rose; this was blood. More likely than not, human blood. His hairs prickled. The blood hadn’t yet hardened. Gus was no pathologist, but this couldn't be more than an hour old.
Were his friends injured?
Gus hurried through the hole, noting a smaller snake’s tracks, like twisted rope, over-lying the boot prints. In the new corridor on the other side, the pattern repeated itself. The hoof marks with large distances between strides, and on the wall in front, a hole smashed through to the other side.
Gus sensed that he had to hurry. They were clearly being followed by an ominous, and absolutely lethal creature. He very much doubted it was the other way round.
If they were still alive, and by the footprints and blood he’d spotted perhaps they were, he had a chance to help his friends. He revved up his pace. If he could help them, in due course, he might be able to warn Sue about Kemp and the ghost. Warn her to keep away from the spirit, at all costs.
47 SUE AND CAIN DEPART
‘Absolutely exquisite,’ the ashen figure of Cain said, sitting down after a small walk, trying to ascertain the girl's spirit within him. ‘She is a wonderful human specimen,’ he said. ‘In a moment, I will show her around my palace.’
Kemp looked on, his face pale. ‘But you’ll come back for me, won’t you?’
Cain grinned back. ‘Only if there are sufficient Dreamspinners willing to help. You know, boy, maybe I should take this girl all for myself. Together, I’m sure there’s a way in the universe that I can find a way of procreating a new world. I'm beginning to wonder if you are necessary.’
Cain felt a transient surge of energy from within him as though the girl had derived pleasure from his comments.
‘But you said…’
‘Dreamspinner, dreamspinner, dreamspinner,’ Cain shouted.
Two, tiny blue electrical flashes winked out of the white fog.
‘Ah! There you are, Asgard. I have the girl. To Havilah this instant.’
‘And with speed,’ the dreamspinner said. ‘There is little time.’
Cain turned to Kemp. ‘I will return, boy. Then, we will seek out your mother.’
Kemp sighed with relief. ‘Dreamspinner,’ he managed to ask. ‘What’s going on in the labyrinth? Are they dead yet?’
‘Believe you me,’ Cain tutted, ‘if they had died, you would know.’
‘But what’s happening?’
A reedy voice from the blue light replied. ‘The Heirs, and one other, are alone against Gorialla Yingarna. The battle has been long and difficult—’
‘There,’ Cain said. ‘I told you it would be over soon.’ Then casually, he asked. ‘I take it there are enough dreamspinners for the boy and his mother?’
Asgard replied. ‘There are fewer than before.’
Kemp felt his knees weaken.
‘How so, dreamspinner?’ Cain replied. ‘The children are with Gorialla Yingarna in the labyrinth. Is he still playing games with them?’
‘The Heirs are more powerful than they know. But now they tire. The end is nigh.’
‘It must be the most one-sided battle in all history. Tell me, why do more dreamspinners not flock to you, Asgard?’
‘For one very simple reason, Master of Havilah. The Heirs of Eden have the third tablet.’
48 STONE FIRES INTO THE FOG
Stone bungled and bashed into the wreckage of trees and rocks on the hillside. Shortly, he heard muffled voices.
‘Lambert, Geddis?’ he boomed. ‘Is that you?’
‘Who is it?’
‘It’s Stone. Has everyone made it OK?’
Stone heard mutterings.
‘Those horses dispersed,' Stone said. 'I scared them off with a couple of rounds.’
Lambert's voice came back out of the fog. ‘Not sure those were exactly horses, sir.’
Stone moved towards the noise as quietly as he could, noting that the general vision had improved slightly.
‘Want my opinion?’ the voice croaked. ‘I’m not sure we should be here, sir. It’s getting a bit too bloody weird — reckon someone’s trying to tell us something—‘
‘Tell us what?’ Stone said muffling his voice. He winced at the barb of pain in his chest as he reached over a fallen tree trunk.
‘Not to go any further, sir. Not to mess—’
‘Is that so,’ Stone replied. ‘But, lads, I’m telling you, we need to get up to that cottage. Now.’
Stone heard whispering. ‘So, come on,’ he continued, ‘find your things and let’s get about it.’
‘We’re not going, sir.’
Stone's tone changed. ‘I’m sorry? What did you say?’
‘We ain’t going,’ Lambert repeated. ‘We’re not welcome up here.’
‘Are you disobeying my orders, soldier?’ Stone said, withdrawing his gun. He emptied the cartridge and added another. It clicked into place. He knew the soldiers could hear.
‘It isn’t right, sir.’
‘What isn’t?’ Stone replied.
‘This whole thing. It stinks, like it’s rotten.’
‘You don’t know that. We're involved in an international incident of the highest degree, and we’re closing in on the prime suspects. You know nothing about this.’
For a brief moment, in the silence, Stone wondered if they would come out. He waited.
‘So, either, you come with me now,’ Stone said, pacing his words, ‘or you drop your weapons right where you are and put your hands up.’ He moved quickly towards them hoping he’d catch them out, his gun raised.
‘I’m not afraid to use it,’ Stone bragged. ‘That last gunshot was Vincent. Claimed he’d seen a unicorn but I soon put him right. Do you understand where I’m coming from, soldiers?’
To his right he heard the clank of metal and a scampering of boots, squishing in the mud, as they tore away.
‘I’ve warned you,’ Stone yelled. ‘Leaving is an act of desertion.’ He levelled his gun and fired two shots towards the noise. The second met with a sickening thud followed by a low-pitched groan.
‘Two down, one to go,’ he said. ‘Damn fools.’
He spied the long barrel of the flame-thrower and smiled. ‘Better to arrive late, than not at all. Time to torch that old cottage—‘
An explosion turned his head. Stone laughed. ‘Useless fool ran into his own trap. The scoundrel deserved it.’
Bending his knees, he grappled with the strap, hoisting it over and around his body, gritting his teeth as the weight of the armoury attacked his ribs like a blunt knife.
Then he noticed a pin-prick flashing red light.
Stone stared at it for a while, bending his knees to take a more in-depth look.
‘Clever,’ he said. ‘The damn swine.’
Straightening, he aimed his weapon and blew the radio into several pieces.
Looking up, Stone noticed th
e fog had cleared further. Visibility was now a few metres. But, having previously followed the soldiers, now a feeling of disorientation hit him.
With no tracking device, moving only a few degrees or in his case, steps, in the wrong direction would lead to a significant deviation at the top of the hill.
He rubbed his chin and twisted the end of his moustache. He’d go directly up. And, when he reached the top, he prayed that the fog might have cleared further so that he’d get a clear run in on the cottage.
Then, he’d burn it to the ground and, if his instincts were right, the de Lowes would come running out, straight into his hands.
49 SUE HEARS CAIN’S STORY
Sue, now that she’d quickly worked out how to operate within the outline of the ghost, was overwhelmed by a sense of peace. She’d made her bed, she thought, and now she had to lie in it.
But the revelation that the Heirs of Eden had the third tablet festered in her mind. Had she given up on her friends too easily? Hadn’t she trusted them enough?
And when Asgard, the strange creature they’d dived through, mentioned that they were with one other, fleetingly her heart jumped that it might be Gus. But then she knew the creature could only have meant Old Man Wood. Hard as it was to swallow, she tried to push the thought out of her mind, even though it niggled her like an itch craving for a scratch.
They’d arrived in the place that Cain called Havilah. Cain removed himself from her, the feeling, she thought, like being peeled out of a tight, rubber mould. Bearing only a long scarf around his neck the spirit showed her around. Later, he encouraged her to look around for herself, to make herself at home.
For some time she wandered through the old, crumbling palace, whose walls were dotted with sparkling rocks. She’d never seen anywhere so unusual in her whole life. Along one entire length, the building seemed to butt onto a cliff-edge, its rock seams flashing with colour, its higgledy-piggledy formations twinkling back at her. Along the other, ran a neat, almost classical stone facade, with pillars and friezes, looking out over a vast canyon.
