The Moon Stealers and The Children of the Light

by Tim Flanagan

  As soon as she entered into the Moon Stealer a wave of sickness flowed through her body, making her feel weak and vulnerable. She travelled along the purple vessels that carried yellow acidic fluid around its body, and then leapt onto the nerve conductors that joined its muscles to the nervous system. The line crackled with static as she shot up into the control centre that would normally be classed as a brain in any other animal. But, inside this creature was a cavity filled with a bundle of electrical fibres, like a ball of sticky cobwebs rolled together. As she penetrated the ball, her world became darker; sparks of electricity flickered and showed the way until she reached the centre. From here Lady Flora had access to everything the creature was experiencing, every sight, sound and feeling. In the centre of the brain, the creature’s world was black and lifeless.

  Lady Flora was bathed in darkness.

  Occasionally there was a flash as electrical impulses zipped along the nerves and sparked as they crossed synaptic gaps. Through the creatures ears she could hear the wind blowing across the clearing beside the forest, but the world of the creature appeared to be separate and not at all connected to the outside world. For a split second Flora wondered if she had bypassed the connections for the eye. But, she hadn’t. Then she realised why this group of creatures were acting so strange.

  They were blind.

  That was why they were calling desperately to the others, asking for help. She knew the creatures were ruthless and any help they would get from their siblings would only be to end their torment and be swiftly consumed.

  Happy to be leaving the oppressive cobweb of nerve endings, she moved out into the nearest thing she could find. A small field mouse tunnelled through the grass, dashing close to the foot of one of the creatures. Cautiously it watched the blackened creatures as it moved bit by bit around them. None of the creatures noticed the mouse. It continued to jerk forward at various angles. Lady Flora coaxed it away towards the other side of the clearing. As the mouse burrowed into a small den of twigs and leaves, Lady Flora crossed into a nearby Silver Birch, following its root system, crossing from one tree to another until she returned back to the make-shift cave that was cocooned beneath the river bank and tree roots.

  ‘They’re blind,’ she said, as much to herself as to the others.

  Edgar was running a large stone along the side of Ethera, his sword, sharpening the cutting edge. It seemed like he had fully recovered from his exhaustion, but his skin was pale in the light from the glow-worms, giving him a ghostly look.

  ‘Who,’ he whispered, trying not to wake the children.

  ‘I’ve travelled into the forest,’ she explained. ‘There are still some creatures abandoned in the clearing where they attacked. They haven’t dispersed with the others to hunt, because they can’t see.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The light from your sword must have blinded some of them.’

  ‘Ethera created a pulse of energy, it should have simply brushed them backwards, not blinded them.’

  ‘Don’t forget that a magical item is an extension of the user. You told me before that you were appointed by King Arthur himself as one of the League of White Knights. The pulse of energy from the sword also emitted a light, a white light of purity and good that came from within you. Some of the creatures that were engulfed in the wave of energy must have had their eye burnt. Without their sight they are vulnerable and cannot hunt.’

  ‘I didn’t realise that’s what would happen,’ said Edgar apologetically, remembering how Lady Flora valued all of nature.

  ‘You do not need to apologise to me, these creatures are not natural, they are monsters created from bacteria that feeds off others until there is nothing left. What you have found is a way to stop them.’

  ‘But, I’m not strong enough to stop them all,’ replied Edgar instinctively holding his infected wrist.

  ‘I know,’ Flora gave a reassuring smile, ‘but Ethera is one of the legendary twelve swords of power. If enough energy was focussed through twelve swords, the effect could be magnified and the creatures would become weaker.’

  ‘You mean the swords could be the way of ridding the creatures from this world?’

  ‘Do you know where the other swords are?’

  ‘Ethera was given to me by Nimue, Priestess of Avalon. When a Knight dies, the sword dies with him. It is thought that the sword returns to its maker, in this case the lady of the lake, but no body knows for sure.’

  ‘Do you remember where Avalon is?’

  ‘It’s been a long time and the landscape will have changed, but yes, I know the location of Avalon. But entering will not be easy; the magic of the lake has long since diminished. I fear there would be no one to greet us and take us through.’

  ‘The first time I met you inside King Conroy’s Council Chamber, Joe presented the druid’s flute to us. You said that it had opened the portal into the Underworld, as well as the Dore into The Rocks of Goran. You already have the key in your possession. You must use it now to open the gateway to Avalon.’

  6. Following the Path of Water

  They patiently waited whilst Lady Flora mentally scoured the forest to see if it was safe before they decided to leave the embankment. Once she was satisfied she diverted her mental energy and entered the root system of the Ash and Elm trees that cocooned them beneath the river bank and willed the dense mat of roots to slowly recede from around the entrance. At first they only felt small vibrations in the ground beneath them, but that was quickly followed by movement at the entrance and a crack of light that appeared between the roots and ivy. After spending the night bathed in the limited light of the glow-worms, it took a while for their eyes to adjust to the daylight that flooded their cave. Eventually the roots parted to create a slit that was big enough for them to squeeze through.

  Edgar took the first cautious step between the roots and onto the dried up riverbed, closely followed by the Grey Man. Both men had their swords drawn and ready to use in the event of an attack.

  The old riverbed was dry and hard underfoot. The loose rocks and gravel that had been washed downstream in the past were now held together by moss and short grasses. The ground in front of the doorway showed the desperate marks left by the creatures during the night. The deep scratches and claw marks that scarred the ground formed random furrows as if they had been ploughed on a farmer’s field.

  Silently, Edgar and the Grey Man circled the riverbed, watching and listening for any sign of a creature whilst the others waited within the safety of the tree roots.

  The two men watched the trees, looking for any sign of movement, but there was nothing except for the sound of a gentle breeze brushing through the canopy leaves.

  Edgar signalled to the others.

  One by one the children stepped out from their hideaway and moved towards Edgar. Instinctively they also turned to look into the trees.

  Lady Flora was the last to leave. She moved out from between the veil of roots and gently placed a hand on the largest of them, holding it for a few seconds, before moving towards the others. If any of them had watched Flora, they would have seen a faint shimmer of light drift from beneath her hand that reflected and danced across the surface of the root, before quickly fading.

  Suddenly, in the empty air, a slow crack of a branch broke the silence.

  Edgar and the Grey Man turned to face the direction the sound came from, their swords poised in front of them anticipating a creature attack.

  Everyone stood absolutely still, as if they were made of stone. As they waited to see what had made the noise, fear gripped them, causing adrenaline to charge through their veins.

  Ahead of them Edgar scanned the forest.

  Then he saw something. A very slight movement. He half wondered if it had been his imagination, but as he watched an area on top of the embankment further downstream, he saw it again.

  A bush that was in fruit, kept moving slightly.

  He watched as a grey coloured hand plucked at some of the berries. E
dgar pointed towards the bush and they slowly began to move downstream.

  As they got nearer they could make out what was picking the fruit.

  It was a human hand.

  The four children stayed close to the adults. They were so focused on the hand that they weren’t concentrating where they placed their feet. As Peter moved forward, the toe of his shoe kicked a loose stone that clattered across the riverbed to strike against a large boulder that supported the ground above them. Hearing the noise, the hand stopped plucking the berries. Edgar signalled for them to stop too.

  Everyone waited.

  Beside the berry bush, Edgar could see an unusual shape that had the markings of army camouflage on it. Whoever was taking the fruit was hiding beneath the camouflage material for safety, knowing what dangers lurked in the forest.

  ‘Hello?’ said Edgar. He remembered how the world had been when they left Parsley Bottom for the Underworld. He recalled the chaos and destruction the creatures had created on the train from Edinburgh, as well as the deadly reception they themselves had received in the forest the previous night. If that level of destruction had continued whilst they were in the Underworld, any human survivor would naturally be scared and confused.

  ‘We won’t hurt you,’ he added, trying to sound reassuring.

  On the embankment, the camouflage sheet moved slightly and a pair of eyes peered out from beneath a hood. The skin around the eyes was dirty and streaked from tears. At first there was a connection when the survivor’s eyes locked onto another human being. For all they knew, that moment could have been the first time that survivor had seen anyone alive for some time.

  But then the eyes looked down to the swords the two men were holding and the connection was quickly broken, replaced by fear and panic. The survivor turned away from them and began to run.

  ‘Wait!’ called Edgar, but it was too late. From where they were in the riverbed, they couldn’t see over the embankment to where the survivor had fled. Edgar stepped forward ready to move after him, but Lady Flora placed a hand on his arm.

  ‘Leave him. Humans have an amazing instinct for survival. You need to find Avalon,’ she said.

  Edgar knew she was right.

  They walked cautiously, keeping together as a group and following the dried up riverbed as it cut between the forest and snaked downhill. Lady Flora collected berries as they went, distributing them evenly between them all. As the morning wore on, small trickles of water joined the river from the hills above until they had collected to form a little stream that cascaded over grey rocks. Edgar took the lead as they picked their way down a steeper part of the forest, following the path of the water, but being careful not to slip on the green algae that covered some of the stones. Mosses and ferns grew happily beside the water, enjoying the humid atmosphere that the spray created. As they moved further and further downhill, more streams joined from the land above creating a violent river that gained speed as it tumbled downhill. They didn’t encounter any more human survivors, and continued to keep a careful eye on the sky, checking for any signs of the creatures.

  Eventually the forest thinned and one side became bordered by a lush green field. Now that they had come out from beneath the canopy of trees, they could see further into the distance.

  The Grey Man stood and looked over the rolling hills and smiled to himself. He allowed a small tingle of happiness to well up inside him, satisfied that he was back in the familiar landscape of his own country.

  Further down the hill they could make out the roof tops of a small village. To the left of them the river continued to increase in force as it tumbled over a series of rocky steps, before flowing over a shallower riverbed, where the water widened.

  Finally they reached a row of quaint grey stone cottages that were perched on a ledge above the river. The river swung to the right and then left again where it opened out. Ahead was an old stone bridge that would normally have taken cars over the river, but today it was silent. To the right an old stone wall held back a row of cottages, whilst to the left, on the brow of the hill stood a church. The river had become wider now and the only way to continue forward was by jumping from stone to stone. They reached a large group of boulders that provided them with enough height to allow them to climb over a low wall and onto a footpath.

  ‘Let’s head to the church. From there we might be able to find out where we are,’ said Edgar.

  Moving away from the river, they leapt over a wall onto the other side of the path then an embankment of grass which sloped upwards towards the church.

  They rounded the side of the church and tried the first door, but it was locked. Moving towards the front they pushed on a large wooden door recessed beneath a stone arch, but that was also locked.

  ‘Let’s see if we can find somewhere else,' said Edgar. Despite what had happened in the world since the Moon Stealers had arrived, he still felt loathed to break into a place of worship.

  There was complete silence from his companions, who had all turned away from Edgar and were looking towards a narrow road. The church was elevated slightly in comparison to the road, allowing them to see over a shallow wall that held the grass and gravestones back, and across to a row of small stone buildings. Lodged within the wide glass window of a convenience store on the other side of the road were the remains of a car, its front completely swallowed by the building.

  But there was something quite eerie about the place.

  The strangest thing was the complete lack of people, and with it, an absence of sound. Even the birds in the trees were silent and watchful. Away from the gentle trickle of river water, the only thing they could hear was the sound of air rushing through their nostrils and into their lungs. The silence was uncomfortable and expectant, like someone was about to jump out and scare them at any moment.

  But, no one did.

  Other cars were either parked neatly along the side of the road, or abandoned at awkward angles in the side of walls, doorways, or the backs of other cars.

  They left the churchyard and climbed over the wall towards the convenience store. Carefully, Edgar picked his way over the shattered glass, some of which already had streaks of blood smeared along the razor sharp edges.

  Inside, the store was in darkness. The long tubular strip lights that would normally have run the length of the shopping aisles were hanging at awkward angles from the ceiling, whilst boxes of cereal and aluminium cans were scattered across the floor, discarded from the shelves as a result of chaos and panic. Edgar decided not to venture too far from the broken window, not only for his own safety, but also because the light was limited the further in he went. He picked up some food that was nearest to him: cereal bars, packets of biscuits, a couple of unspoilt apples, oranges and carrots, as well as bottled water from a refrigerator that had long since stopped working, and took them back outside.

  They returned to the grass in front of the church, lay back and happily ate what they had, glad of the rest after their walk.

  Edgar and the Grey Man sat with their swords close at hand, ready to use should they need to. The silence still felt uncomfortable and they couldn’t help but keep glancing at the sky, checking for any sign of the creatures.

  7. On the Edge of the Solent

  Steven drove the Range Rover along the M3 towards Southampton. They had decided to make their way to the New Forest, following the smaller roads that would eventually take them to Lymington, at the edge of the south coast of England. It was at Lymington that they expected to find guards that Coldred had left to man the port, filtering the people who were allowed to join the community on the Isle of Wight. But, Steven, Georgia and Tracker had no intention of driving as far as Lymington. They planned to take another road through the forest, leaving the cars on the coast at Milford-on-Sea. From there it would then be a trek on foot to get to Hurst. The information leaflets they had collected in the tourist information centre, estimated the distance between Hurst and the Isle of Wight to be only about one mile. The only
drawback to crossing there was that there was no port on either side of the Solent. If they could get across the water, they would land on a sweeping area of sand called Colwell Bay, a popular place for tourists. If they remained undetected, they could then join the road network and begin moving around the Isle of Wight. They would have to leave the Range Rovers on the other side of the Solent, but, if the island was anything like the rest of the country, they knew there would be an abundance of abandoned cars for them to acquire that would make moving around the island a lot easier. At around twenty seven miles wide it was possible to negotiate the island by foot, but using a car would provide them speed as well as protection.

  Everywhere was quiet. Only the hum of tyres against the tarmac broke the oppressive silence. In the distance an occasional movement in the sky caught his attention, the last of the creatures hunting before resting during the brightest of the daylight hours.

  Apart from the other Range Rover that drove directly behind him, there were no other vehicles on the road, and no sign of any other humans. At least, not ones that were alive. Occasionally they would see cars abandoned by the road side, but nothing slowed their progress. Coldred’s convoy had already come this way, clearing a path as it went. Some cars showed signs of being struck and shunted to the side of the motorway. On the horizon he could see the silhouettes of houses and trees, the outline of a busy city. A few thin black wisps of smoke drifted in a gentle line towards the sky, evidence of either life, or, more likely, evidence of destruction and chaos. Most of the humans they had already met had quickly learnt that hiding from the creatures was the easiest way to survive, and smoke would only generate unwanted attention from the creatures.

  In the passenger seat beside Steven sat Georgia, curled up in the foetal position, resting her head on a rolled up blanket that was wedged against the window. Steven enjoyed having Georgia around him. He felt an overwhelming feeling to protect her. He smiled to himself, enjoying the warmth inside his chest that was created every time he looked at her, despite the looming problem they were driving towards.