The Blood Line

by Ben Yallop

  ‘Y’all right der, your Highness? You look like the leprechaun who lost his gold.’

  ‘Welcome,’ managed Hob, remembering himself. ‘Who are you and how did you find us?’

  ‘Name’s Chimmeken, but most folks call me Chim. I was over to the west when I heard you blowin’ on dat dere horn. Thought I’d come over and see what the craic was.’

  ‘We are very pleased to see you Chim. We have been hoping that some kobolds would answer my call but we have seen no-one.’

  ‘And why might you be wanting us kobolds to come? Do you have a plan?’

  ‘The basis of one, yes. But we need strength in numbers so I want to get the kobolds back together.’

  ‘Won’t be easy, but if you’re shaping for a fight I might know a few who’d throw their hats in the ring.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Hob in excitement. ‘Yes, we found a new power. Someone with presence. Only a young lad but strong. Strong enough maybe. We’re going to stand and fight and see if we can’t get rid of the Riven now and forever.’

  ‘Well, then I’ll go and mention it to a few of the lads. See what we can come up with. I know a couple of kobolds.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Hob. ‘Please. Any that will come will be welcomed here.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll see ya later then, your Highness. I’ll see what I can do.’

  And with that he was gone.

  *

  Hob and Hödekin again were forced to wait. They continued to blow the horn but no more kobolds appeared. A week passed and then another and soon they were forced to agree that not even Chimmeken was coming back.

  They sat on the steps of the ruined tower together looking out on the hills, legs dangling over the ruined wall.

  ‘It’s torture,’ said Hödekin. ‘If we stay we’re wasting time but if we leave, well, it could be the day before someone arrives. Leaving is admitting that this was all for nothing.’

  Hob just sighed. He was sick of talking about it. The waiting was interminable. There were only two good things about the long wait they had endured. The first was that Hödekin’s strength had improved and he was just about back to his old self, although his wounds were not fully healed. The second thing was that they had had time to explore all the corners of the palace, including those places where the giants were too big to go, which was admittedly most places. In doing so the kobolds had found parts that the Riven had missed in their destruction. The most exciting of these places was a section of the network of tunnels which ran underground for miles. The mine kobolds were, by their very nature, expert at construction within the earth and a whole maze of passages was spread around. The entrances had remained secret. Within the tunnels one room in particular had excited Hob. The armoury. It was not fully stocked as many of the kobolds had rushed to it to arm themselves when the Riven had attacked. But even with much missing it held a great store of swords, shields, hammers, axes and armour. Much of it was simple and plain, more functional than anything, but several pieces were incredibly beautiful as well as lethal. If only the kobolds had turned up Hob would have been able to equip a good number of them.

  As they sat in their lofty perch in the ruined tower the kobolds suddenly felt a low rumble. A moment later Gog pounded into the open space before them, his head almost level with their feet though they were high in the tower.

  ‘KING,’ he said panting. ‘SOMEONE IS COMING.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Adelaide, Australia

  Date unknown

  ‘Sam, are you sure that you're okay to do this?' asked Tarak. He stood back to check how Sam looked in the police uniform that they had managed to steal from an officer's house an hour earlier. He couldn't have been able to see much, thought Sam. The alleyway was dark. They had decided that night was the best time to try this, when fewer people would be around. They had arrived a few miles away and in the disorientation caused by the line had dashed away to cover, realising that people were near but not being able to tell who.

  'For the hundredth time, yes. And I don't see why now, all of a sudden, you're so concerned about my welfare,' said Sam irritably. 'I’ve agreed to help for now. But I don’t have to like it. We also agreed that I'm the best person to do this. If things go wrong and they decide to shoot then I have the best chance of stopping the bullets.'

  Tarak looked at him and changed the subject.

  'So, you'll need to find the evidence store. I don't know how it will be ordered inside so you might have trouble finding the book. Look for labels like 'Somerton Man' or 'Tamam Shud'. The book itself is called 'The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam'. It will have a code written in it and a square of paper will be missing from the last page. The store itself will certainly be locked. If you get into trouble just get out as quick as you can.'

  'I'll be fine,' sighed Sam, annoyed with Tarak's repetition of the instructions. Truth be told he did feel quite nervous. Presence was all well and good but walking into a large and well-staffed police station disguised as a police officer was, he was sure, enough to make anyone feel anxious.

  Tarak opened his mouth to say something else but Sam quickly stepped around the corner and began walking to the building. He'd had enough of Tarak. He still didn't like or trust Kya's father but he couldn't deny that the man was knowledgeable and that was what Sam needed at the moment, information. For the moment their wishes aligned, both wanted to stop the Riven King becoming more powerful.

  It had been Tarak’s guess that, since no-one knew the location of the secret Blood Line, Box had left details of its whereabouts in the book which had been left near the scene of his murder. Certainly it had been reported that there was a code written in the back. In the 70 odd years in real time between when Box had died and when Sam had done his internet research no-one had cracked the code. Sam now knew all about the power and danger of the Line. He was here a bit earlier than what he thought of as present day. He could tell by the types of cars parked on the street and the way people looked, their hairstyles and dress.

  Sam came to the staff entrance and held his breath as he touched the stolen security pass to the small grey box next to the door. A small red light flashed at him. It hadn't worked. He tried again, quickly passing the card over the reader. Again, the red light flashed. Sam took a breath and forced himself to relax. He could probably open this door with presence if he had to but that might set off an alarm. He held the card to the box longer the next time and after a few seconds he was rewarded with a green light and he heard a click from within the frame. He took another deep breath, opened the door and walked through into the police station.

  Sam was relieved to see that the corridors were well signposted. He guessed that officers from other areas sometimes came into this building and had to find their way around. He saw signs pointing to the cells, yard, front desk and various acronyms which meant nothing to him. He hoped that none of the strings of letters referred to the evidence store. He met a few people as he tried to find his way around. Each time he tried to look purposeful. He mumbled a few indistinct 'G'day's at first, using an accent heavily borrowed from Australian TV shows, but after he had said it a few times he remembered that it was night outside. He felt himself blush and his skin prickled. A trickle of sweat ran down his spine under his shirt. Did Australian people say G'day at night? What did they say instead? G'night? No, that would be strange. He would stay silent from now on. Then he found a sign on a door. 'Evidence'.

  He had a quick look around. There was no-one about. He took out his stolen pass and held it to the reader by the door. A green light flashed and the click from the door made him jump. He pulled it open and slipped inside.

  The store was ordered by year and there were noticeably fewer older cases so once he worked out the way in which the cases were ordered chronologically it was not long before he found the right set of shelves. The more recent years were subdivided into months, but the older ones just had everything crammed together. After a few minutes he found it – 1948. There in a slightly battere
d, faded and dusty cardboard box he found what he was looking for. Inside the box was a stack of paperwork and several items which must have been inside the dead man’s clothes, a comb, some orange thread, a pack of cigarettes. And then, in the bottom of the box he found it. 'The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. He quickly opened it to the back. There was the code and the missing rectangle where the words Tamam Shud had been cut away. Just then Sam heard the door click as someone else entered the room.

  Sam tucked the book into the jacket of his stolen uniform, pushed the box back into place and ducked around a corner pressing further into the room. He still had some faith in his disguise but it was easier to avoid meeting anyone if possible. It was unlikely that anyone would come to this end of the room where the older evidence was kept but Sam’s instinct was still to hide.

  He peered through gaps between shelves and caught sight of movement. Whoever it was was moving towards him. The figure made no sound. Then suddenly a shadow passed a gap in the boxes and Sam had a momentary vision of a black cloak. The Riven were here. Sam ducked back behind the shelf that was his hiding place so quickly it made him dizzy.

  The black-cloaked figure walked silently between the lines of shelves, looking, searching. Sam hardly dared to breathe. Eventually, the figure stopped at the exact same box which Sam had taken the book from a moment earlier. He could just about see the figure standing in the same place where he had stood himself seconds ago. He heard the box slide out and the noise of hands rummaging through the contents. After a minute came a hiss. The Riven had realised that the book was already missing.

  As he stood holding his breath Sam realised that the line that had brought him and Tarak here must always lead to this same time. The Riven had come looking for the book too and had arrived at more or less the same moment. Sam remembered the feeling that someone had been close when he arrived.

  He and Tarak had not hurried, first following a policeman home to steal his uniform with presence, before coming to the police station in the dark. It was sheer luck that the Riven had decided to wait for the cover of darkness too and that Sam had reached the book first.

  Now the Riven stood motionless, hands resting on the edge of the box. He seemed to be thinking too. Sam felt a chill wash over him like a grave had been opened and cold air had rushed out. Then the Riven slid the box back into place and Sam saw his cloaked head, his face hidden in shadow, turn to where Sam was hiding. He had sensed Sam was there, felt his presence. Then all hell broke loose.

  At the exact moment that Sam felt the eyes of the Riven lock onto him, the door to the exhibits store burst open. Two police officers rushed in shouting, guns raised and pointed at the Riven. The Riven held Sam’s gaze a moment longer as the police officers moved towards him, guns outstretched. Then with a burst of presence he leapt. Fast.

  The Riven pushed presence towards the advancing policemen and they both went down, one pulling the trigger as he was sent sliding backwards along the floor. The shot was deafening in the enclosed space making Sam’s ears ring as it whined off into the shelves somewhere. Sam ran for the door and had not gone far when more police arrived. The Riven had moved towards Sam and in the confusion the police saw only Sam’s uniform and a man in a black cloak diving for him. They opened fire on the Riven who was forced to come to a skidding stop. Half a dozen bullets came zipping towards him and from the corner of his eye Sam saw him use presence to push them away and deflect them. They went ricocheting through the room, pinging around like the multi-ball in pinball. Sam felt one go whistling past his head and he ducked instinctively, knowing a second too late, that ducking would have made no difference had the bullet been a few inches closer.

  With the Riven forced to stop for a moment Sam had the advantage and he reached the door. The officers made way for him and he was out into the corridor. They closed ranks again behind him. Sam ran down the corridor, strangely light-headed. Behind him he saw officers fly away from the door as the Riven pushed them away. Bodies flew through the air, landing hard against the walls and floor in the confined space.

  Sam turned a corner and carried on running as more shouts and shots rang out behind him. Then he saw the door where he had come in and he launched himself towards it. He lost a second trying to get his stolen pass against the reader, the plastic slippery in his hand. It was only then that he noticed the blood. The door clicked and Sam staggered against it, pushing it open as he did so. Then Tarak was there and had him under the arms and with Sam half running half being dragged they dashed away as fast as they could.

  As soon as they were safe Sam allowed Tarak to lower him to the floor. Tarak’s concerned face loomed over Sam.

  ‘Did you get it?’ he panted. ‘The book?’

  Sam closed his eyes for a moment as anger rippled through him.

  ‘I’ve been shot and the only thing you can ask me is whether I got the book?’ He opened his eyes and stared fiercely at Tarak. ‘Get away from me. For five minutes, just get away from me.’

  When Tarak didn’t move Sam shouted ‘NOW!’

  Tarak backed off and Sam lay his head back on the floor and forced himself to relax, closing his eyes again. He sent his presence inwards feeling around his body for his injuries. There. There was the bullet, lodged in his right arm just above the elbow. He felt the shape of the hole around it, noting the direction it had entered. Then gritting his teeth he began to slide it back out the way it had come.

  The pain was excruciating and twice he almost lost consciousness. Eventually he heard the small ‘dunk’ as the bullet dropped onto the floor. Amazing how such a small thing could do so much damage and cause so much pain. Sam, breathing heavily, checked the wound again using presence. It didn’t seem to be serious. He guessed it had been a ricochet and had thus been moving slightly slower when it had hit him. The wound was not deep. He sat up, tearing away the bloodied clothing around the cut, exposing his chest and arms.

  ‘You’ll have to bandage it for me,’ he said to Tarak. Tarak paused a second and Sam saw that the book had fallen from his uniform and was resting on the floor. Tarak’s eyes had flicked to it causing him to hesitate but Tarak checked himself and using some of the ripped shirt tied a good bandage around Sam’s arm.

  Sam changed back into the clothes which he had left after putting on the uniform. Tarak already had the book in his hands and was studying the back when Sam turned round.

  'If I'm right this code should help us find out where the Line is and maybe even how soon we need to get there.'

  He stared at it. Sam looking over his shoulder.

  W R G O A B A B D

  W T B I M P A N E T P

  M L I A B O A I A Q C

  I T T M T S A M S T G A B

  They looked at it for a long time checking for some kind of pattern and looking through other pages of the book for any other clue but eventually Sam shook his head and gave up.

  'What a waste of time. It's meaningless. We knew what it said from the news reports. This doesn’t tell us anything more.'

  'No,' said Tarak. 'If Box did leave this then he wouldn't have done it for no reason.' He tapped the page in thought. 'Ah, I have an idea! Watch!'

  Tarak held his hand over the page and Sam felt a tingle as Tarak sent a little presence onto the page.

  Immediately the letters shifted into a circle with a single letter in the middle 'A'.

  Tarak looked up at Sam's face in excitement. 'A presence code. Brilliant!'

  The letters shifted again, the outer circle spinning as letters moved into the centre.

  ‘T’ then a pause.

  ‘L O N D O N’ then another pause.

  'Remember this Sam. At London.'

  ‘S T O N E’

  They stood and watched, repeating the verse as it appeared in an effort to commit it to memory. Once they had been through the whole thing four times they were confident they had it memorised.

  AT LONDON STONE OPEN A DOOR

  TO SEE ALLENDE BECOME STILL MORE

  A DOPPLEGANG
ER IS SOON STOPPED DEAD

  AS APRIL DAWN BECOMES BLOOD RED

  AT CANNON STREET A SIGN IS CLEAR

  AS LONDONS LORD ENTERS AN EAR

  A LAST ATTEMPT GET TO BLOODS LINE

  OR MAN WILL SEE AN END TO TIME

  'Well,' said Sam eventually. 'We have the message. But what does it mean?'

  ‘Let’s take it in stages,’ said Tarak. ‘Have you heard of the London Stone?’

  Sam shook his head.

  ‘It’s a big chunk of rock which some think may have marked the boundary of the City of London. It now sits behind a metal grill embedded in a wall near Cannon Street station, although eventually it will be moved to the British Museum.’ Tarak looked at Sam closely. ‘Some say it is very old, older than London itself, a relic from a time when Gods ruled the Earth. Or that it was set in place by a man called Brutus of Troy, the legendary founder of London or later by King Lud. There is a legend attached to it. It says ‘So long as the Stone of Brutus is safe, so long shall London flourish’. Some think it marks the position of several ley lines of power which run through the City. Still others claim that it is the stone from which King Arthur once pulled a sword from. You’ve heard of the sword in the stone?’

  Sam nodded.

  ‘The next bit of Box’s code worries me,’ continued Tarak ‘See Allende become still more and this part about ‘doppelgängers’. It’s my guess that Box has gone and done something very, very risky. I think the crazy fool has given us one chance to stop Allende. I think this is it, Sam. If we fail we are doomed. All or nothing! Box wants us to use the doppelgänger effect to stop Allende. If we don’t, it’s all over for both our times.’

  *

  Kya was full of worry when they told her that Sam had been shot in the chaos at the police station.

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Sam. ’Really. But we need to go. We needed to get you but we don’t have any time to waste. The Riven are on the trail too. We have to get to London.’