by James Erith
He moved on to the next mural which showed the same three characters holding a rectangular stone tablet encrusted with ornate carvings. It was not much bigger, he guessed, than a paperback book.
Here, the mural divided, as it did with each new tablet that had to be found. Three stone tablets in all, Archie thought, one for each of the three figures. And as far as he could make out, if any one of them died – and at any point – then they would end up in a place of skulls and withered trees: death would come to all.
Now that Archie studied it, it reminded him of levels on a computer game: win a level – move up a level. The difference in this game was that if one person lost a level, everyone died.
So, if these pictures were somehow connected to them and if one of them had died in the storm, then the rains would have continued on to destroy the planet until only the mountain tops were spared. A shiver ran up his spine.
He followed the mural to its conclusion where three figures basked in glorious sunlight, as if they had succeeded. Beyond the basking figures, and extending over much of the rocky vaulted ceiling, in the shape of a circle, was the outline of a vast tree showing both roots and branches. On its upper half, animals and birds and plants and fruit hung in and around the foliage. Below, beside the roots, swam creatures of the sea.
Archie recognised some – like the seahorse, whale, elephant and crocodile – but he had no idea what the double-headed snakes were or what the birds with forked tongues and huge sharp claws were called. In fact, most of the creatures seemed to belong to an alien or medieval make-believe fantasy world.
He turned his attention to Daisy who was captivated by this strange tree. She stared at it for some time, her mouth open, a frown creasing her forehead. Archie tried to work out what she was so struck by and looked harder until he noticed, just behind the tree, the faint outline of a cross-legged woman with a crown of leaves resting upon her head. In place of eyes were dark patches, as though they had been coloured in, and a cushion sat in her lap. Resting on the surface, in the shape of a heart, was a locket.
Archie’s mind raced and his heartbeat quickened. Was this the Ancient Woman? Was this the haggard old woman they’d dreamt of, the same person he had repeatedly killed in his dreams? Was this the same woman he’d promised Cain he would look after?!
Archie rubbed his front hair spike. He noted how his follicles had hardened together like steel. So, if this was them, were these cave-images … their destiny?
Archie suddenly felt rather weak and insignificant. It made him think of his friend Kemp. Kemp, who had lost his mother when he was so very young, and he tried desperately to remember what Cain had said to them in the alleyway, but the whole thing had happened so fast. If only he could find Kemp, Kemp would remember and tell him – that’s if his friend was still alive.
Archie shut his eyes. Cain told them that they were the anointed ones, the Heirs of something-or-other and that everything hung on their staying alive till sunset. Wasn’t that the heart of it? So if the murals were correct, he, Archie de Lowe, a rather shambolic and disorganised twelve year old and his two nutty sisters had just saved the world. Wow.
But he didn’t feel like a superhero.
And then it dawned on him that perhaps the whole thing was in his head – his imagination – part of a very long, extended dream. A fantasy. Yeah, that was it. Not a bit of anything that had happened was REAL. It couldn’t be. Not even the paintings in front of him truly existed …
‘You done?’ Daisy said, waving her hands in front of his face. ‘Woo-hoo! Anyone there?’
‘Sorry, miles away,’ Archie replied, returning to earth.
‘Have you taken all of this in, absorbed as much as you can?’
Archie was a little confused. He looked around. ‘God. Er … yeah. Suppose so.’
‘Good,’ she said, rubbing her eyes. ‘As you are fully aware, my brain is completely rubbish, so from now on, I’m relying on you.’ Daisy ran her hands through her curls and noted Archie’s blank expression. ‘Want me to explain?’
‘Explain what?’ Archie looked confused.
‘What’s going to happen, numpty.’
Archie nodded.
‘Cool. Right, you see that little picture at the base of the stairwell.’ Daisy pointed at it.
‘Uh, right,’ Archie replied, squinting. ‘Yeah, didn’t see that.’
‘Well that shows us how we get out of here – stroke of luck Old Man Wood pushed the other one, hey?’
Archie stared at the wall. He couldn’t see anything. ‘Sure,’ he said dumbly.
Daisy eyed him. ‘You have no idea, do you?’
‘Nah. All looks like white-wash to me.’
Daisy sighed. ‘Please tell me you’ve noticed the cave entrance recently?’
Archie reddened. He turned and his eyes led him from the steaming, bubbling pool along the stream to the entrance.
Daisy couldn’t believe Archie was being such a moron. ‘Jeez, Archie. This cave – where we are right now – is underwater. There’s some kind of plastic film or glass barrier or weirdo trick holding the water back.’ She marched over to the entrance, put her hands on the strange glass film and smacked it with her fist. A hollow, thick ring like a church bell replied.
‘Yup, resin or glass or something,’ she said nonchalantly, as though this kind of thing happened every day.
Now that his eyes had adjusted, Archie could see right through the transparent barrier to the murky, swirling mass of water behind it. He felt sick. ‘How did it get there?’
Daisy shot him a look. ‘How the hell do I know?’
Archie’s voice creaked. ‘What’s it doing?’
‘Dur! Holding back the water! Come on, Archie! What do you think it’s doing?’ She hit it again, this time harder. A louder “dong” rang out.
‘Blimey, Daisy. Don’t do that.’
‘Why not? It won’t break.’
‘How do you know that? It might.’
Daisy ignored him. ‘Look, Winkle,’ she said, ‘when it breaks, we’re dead. Very, very, very dead.’
‘Just what I was thinking,’ Archie said.
‘But it’s not going to, quite yet.’ She paced back to the wall. ‘So these marks,’ she continued pointing to a very faint blur on the wall, ‘tell us there are two levers. One to widen the stairwell and the other to release the boulder—’
‘Of course,’ he said rubbing his chin, ‘just as I suspected.’
She moved in closer and pointed at them. ‘These marks … here.’
‘Yeah,’ said Archie moving in too high.
‘No,’ she said, ‘these two.’
Archie shook his head. Was she playing with him?
‘Now the problem is,’ Daisy said, ‘there’s a bit of a problem.’
Archie nodded dumbly.
‘Well, you see these funny looking icons next to them?’
Archie bent down. ‘Actually, no, not really.’
Daisy tutted. ‘Well they seem to indicate that the moment the boulder lever is pushed the staircase begins to retract.’
‘Wow, cool.’
‘No, Archie. Not cool.’
Archie frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘Because when that happens, Winkle, the barrier breaks and water pours in.’
Archie grimaced. ‘OK. Yup, not so cool.’ He turned to the entrance. ‘So that glass thing—’
‘Collapses. The brain is stirring,’ Daisy said, rather triumphantly. ‘It’s all here on the walls – I can’t believe you’re so blind.’
Archie didn’t even attempt to counter her. Silence filled the cavern as they thought through their situation.
‘So, if you’re right,’ Archie said at length, ‘we’re dead, whatever we do.’
‘Yeah. Probably.’
‘Have you got a plan?’Archie stuttered.
‘What? Other than seeing what odds Isabella would give for survival? Nope. Look, that barrier is protecting a pretty big hole and as brain box kept on telling
us, there’s one hell of a lot of water out there. The cave entrance is a few metres above the river and the water level is higher than the top of the cave, which means water must stretch for miles above the Vale of York. And water, as you know, always finds the easiest route—’
‘Hold on a minute,’ Archie said trying to catch up. ‘You really think water stretches across the valley?’
Daisy shot him a look as if his brain had a leak. ‘Well, yes, of course it does,’ she said. ‘So,’ and she pointed at the covered entrance, ‘when it goes—’
‘The pressure of water flooding in would be like firing a tsunami hosepipe up the stairs,’ Archie concluded.
‘Correct-a-mundo,’ Daisy said punching him lightly on the shoulder. ‘Now you’re getting the picture.’
They stared at each other.
‘And the longer we wait here,’ Archie whispered, ‘the higher the water rises and the greater the pressure.’ The magnitude of what they’d worked out was beginning to sink in.
‘Yeah, Winkle. Something like that.’
‘God almighty. Even deader,’ Archie said. ‘We need Isabella’s brains on this one. And, Daisy.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Please stop calling me Winkle.’
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