by James Erith
EDEN CHRONICLES BOOKS 1 - 3
BOXSET 1
JAMES ERITH
CONTENTS
Eden Chronicles Boxset I
My Eden Team
BOOK ONE, THE POWER AND THE FURY
1. A Dream Is Given
2. The Route To School
3. Good & Bad News
4. Kemp’s Story
5. A Word From The Headmaster
6. Storm Warning
7. Swear On Your Life
8. Storm Glass
9. Broken Promise
10. A Pointless Experiment
11. Headmaster Visits
12. The Dreamspinners
13. Cain’s Luck
14. Archie Meets Cain
15. Havilarian Toadstool Powder
16. Similar Dreams
17. Overcoat
18. Kemp Tries To Make Up
19. Archie Spills It Out
20. A Storm Is Coming
21. On The Way To The Game
22. Kemp’s Fight
23. The Game
24. The Prophecy
25. Cain’s Body
26. The Storm Begins
27. Isabella Disappears
28. Old Man Wood Finds A Clue
29. Lightning Bolts
30. Isabella Gets Trapped
31. Gus’ Canopy
32. To The Rescue
33. Cain Returns
34. Holding On
35. The Boat Heads Out
36. A Leap Of Faith
37. Stuck On The Cliff
38. Betrayal
39. A Cry For Help
40. Why Cain?
41. Bailing For Their Lives
42. The Bubbling Pool
43. The Walls Of The Cave
BOOK TWO, SPIDER WEB POWDER
44. After The Storm, Inside The Cave
45. The Pictures In The Cave
46. Isabella’s Challenge
47. Kemp, In Cain
48. The Protruding Stone
49. Sue And Gus At Sea
50. The Boulder
51. Mrs Pye’s Storm
52. Sue Remembers Her Phone
53. Isabella Hides Away
54. Isabella Does Not Believe
55. A Problem Of Diet
56. Daisy Tries To Work It Out
57. Genesis Quiz
58. Old Man Wood And The Fire
59. Searching For The Bubbling Brook
60. Kemp’s Rescue
61. Old Man Wood Finds His Friends
62. Archie’s Knives
63. The Miracle Boy
64. Isabella Makes A Discovery
65. A Bee and a Leaf
66. The Yorkshire Strain
67. Isabella Rushes Out
68. Daisy’s Disappearance
69. Headmaster Solomon
70. Cain’s Plan
71. Lockdown
72. Leo And Kate
73. Stuck For Eternity
74. Unanswered Questions
75. New Powders, New Dreams
76. Clues
77. Kemp Awakes
78. Clean Rugs
79. Stained Glass Windows
80. The Song Of The Trees
81. Rum Tea
82. A New Belief
BOOK THREE, THE CHAMBER OF TRUTH
The Riddles
83. Dead, or Alive
84. Pressure Mounts
85. At The Ruin
86. Cain and Kemp
87. Havilarian Toadstool Powder
88. The Ring of Babylon
89. Solomon’s Interrogation
90. Solomon’s Theory
91. Isabella’s Power
92. A Lesson From The Past
93. Memories Return
94. The Truth of Kemp’s Mother
95. Gus Escapes
96. Old Man Wood’s Problem
97. Kemp Goes Home
98. A Sip of Water
99. Daisy’s Discovery
100. Bad News From America
101. A Strange New Language
102. Daisy and Cain
103. Deciphering The Code
104. Troops Arrive At Eden Cottage
105. Cain’s New Idea
106. Blabisterberry Jelly
107. To The Cottage
108. Starlight Apple Crumble
109. A Disgusting Way To Die
110. Gus In The Attic
111. The Illusion Crumbles
112. Solomon and Sue
113. A Joke Gone Wrong
114. Fight To The Death
115. The Deal
116. Gaia Reveals
117. Isabella Comes To Life
118. A Curious Reunion
119. A Small Reflection
120. To The Death
121. Daisy Hears Noises
122. An Offer
A Special Invitation …
Review
Thank you team!
About the Author
EDEN CHRONICLES BOXSET I
THE POWER AND THE FURY
SPIDER WEB POWDER
THE CHAMBER OF TRUTH
by JAMES ERITH
MY EDEN TEAM
Dear Reader,
At the end, you’ll find a couple of links.
The first is a special invitation to join my author list and an easy way get book four in the series for FREE, on me.
The second to join my exclusive EDEN TEAM, a private Facebook page.
These two links will keep you up to speed with my book news, events, new releases and other good stuff.
So, happy reading. I very much look forward to seeing you then…
JKE
BOOK ONE, THE POWER AND THE FURY
ONE
A DREAM IS GIVEN
Archie tensed as he heard it again.
No, it was nothing, he thought, just a gust of wind rattling a loose tile on the roof, or the strange ‘yessss!’ sounds that his twin, Daisy, shouted in her sleep. Then again, it could be Isabella sleep-talking about her science experiments. He took a deep breath. Her last sleep-talking dream was something to do with atmospheric pressure and barometers or some other weather-related thing.
Archie smiled and rolled over; who else but his sisters could dream of such odd and opposite things – football and science.
He rubbed his eyes and yawned. His heavy eyelids began to close but, just before they locked tight, he noticed something above Daisy’s head that forced them open.
A shudder ran down his body.
He closed his eyes and counted to three. Then he opened them just a bit.
It was still there.
Archie gasped. It couldn’t be, could it? I mean, an angel ... when had anyone seen an angel, really seen one? His brain whirred. Then it had to be a ghost. But ghosts weren’t real?
A cold sweat broke out over his forehead. He couldn’t move a muscle – not to scream, not even to breathe. If it wasn’t an angel or a ghost, he thought, then what was it? A strange species of spider covered by a thin, opaque jellyfish? In any case, what kind of creature sprayed blue forks of electricity from its middle?
And what was it doing hovering over Daisy?
Archie didn’t want to stare but he couldn’t help it. He exhaled as quietly as he could, desperate not to draw attention to himself. And now that his eyes were adjusting to the light, Archie could see delicate claw-like contraptions at the end of the thing’s long slender legs, and they were moving in perfect time with Daisy’s every breath.
As if the claws were somehow feeding her.
Archie’s heart pounded as a flurry of questions crowded his brain:
Does it hurt? What if it’s poison? What if it comes
towards him – what then? Will it do the same to me, the same to Isabella, Old Man Wood, Mrs Pye – everyone in the house?
A sickly feeling churned in his stomach. What if it’s an alien and hundreds more are about to drop out of the sky?
Shouldn’t he do something?
And then another thought struck him and, absurd as it sounded, it felt ... possible. Really possible. What if this creature – this ‘spidery-angel’ – had a connection with the strange dreams he’d been having? Maybe it was giving Daisy a dream? It felt so impossible but so right and, in a flash of clarity, it made total sense.
As if hearing his thoughts, the spidery-angel turned its head and stared at him with deep black eyes like cavernous empty holes. Archie froze as a chill rushed into his brain and in the very next moment the creature had vanished.
Gone. Just like that.
Archie stared out into the dark night air as his heart thumped like a drum in his chest.
Gradually, the iciness began to thaw but Archie remained stone-still, terrified the thing might reappear directly on top of him. After what felt like a month, he sat up, shook out the arm he’d been lying on, and wiped the sweat from his brow.
All he could see was the fabric of the large drape, perched like a tent above him, and the outline of the thick old wooden rafters beyond. And opposite lay Daisy, fast asleep, snoring, as though nothing had happened.
Had the spidery creature been in his head, a figment of his imagination – another dream? He pinched himself and felt a twinge of pain.
So what was it doing to Daisy with those tiny claws on the end of its long legs? Sucking her brains out? Archie chuckled; no one in their right mind would steal those. Daisy’s feet were wonderfully gifted for football and running, but her brains? No way!
Archie replayed the scene in his mind again and again, as though searching through a film. He remembered the way the creature waited for her inhalations and then, as she drew air into her lungs, its tiny claws spun like crazy. Each time, he returned to the same conclusion; it wasn’t taking anything from Daisy – more giving her something. And whatever it was, she had drawn it deep inside her.
Archie flicked on the bedside lamp and a gentle yellow glow filled the attic room. From the far wall, Isabella yawned and rolled over. Archie waited until she had settled down, then slipped out from under his duvet.
He tiptoed silently towards Daisy’s bed, a couple of wooden planks moaning in protest as he went. He knelt down and surveyed her.
She was silent and at peace, as pretty as anything with her golden hair tumbling wildly over the pillow, her mouth parted.
He smelt her sleepiness and leaned in until his face was just a few inches from hers.
He inspected her nose, her chin, her lips, her cheeks and ears. But there were no odd marks or stains, no bruises, no bleeding, nothing amiss.
Archie put his head in his hands.
Perhaps he had imagined it – perhaps it was just another nightmare.
He rubbed his face and readied himself to go back to bed when suddenly Daisy gasped as though she’d been stuck underwater and burst through to find air.
She groaned and tossed her head from side to side. Then, without warning, she sat bolt upright as though a massive electric current had smashed into her – her face missing his by a whisker, her wavy hair brushing his nose.
Archie’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He could feel her breath marking his cheek. He swayed to the side and noted that her eyes were shut tight. She was still asleep!
Now she was mumbling, but he couldn’t make out the words. He listened harder.
What was it ... “odd”, followed by “wo-man?”
She repeated it, this time louder. This time the word “odd” sounded more like “blood” or “flood”. And there was something else. Yes, a word like, “a-shunt” before “woman” and then a word like ... “bread”. That was it. But what did it mean? “Blood – a-shunt – woman – bread?” A car accident?
Again Daisy said these words, again and again, growing louder and louder. And now it sounded like, “flood a shunt woman Fred”.”
‘Flood a-shunt woman Fred?’ Archie repeated. What was she talking about?
In a flash, it came to him.
Archie reeled; he knew he wasn’t mistaken. Now he said it with her. The first word was definitely “flood”, followed by, “Ancient Woman ... dead”.
Archie felt the blood drain from his face. He stood up and stared at his twin, his mouth open. It wasn’t possible – it couldn’t be. How could she have access to his very own nightmare, the exact same dream he’d had over the past few nights; the flooding and the haggard old woman?
Was it a twin thing? No. Twin things never happened to them.
He noticed tears falling from Daisy’s eyes, eyes which were wide open and staring at a fixed point across the room.
Without warning, Daisy screamed.
Archie automatically ducked and covered his ears.
She began to shake and her hands reached out as though clawing at an invisible figure.
Words spilled out incoherently.
A moment later she stopped, and, with a look of absolute dread and fear mixed upon her face, she spoke clearly, her words faint, like whispers.
Archie leaned in but wished he hadn’t, for her next words seem to stab him, as though a knife had been plunged deep into his heart and twisted round and round.
‘No, no, please Archie.’
Louder and louder, over and over again until she was yelling, ‘DON’T DO IT, ARCHIE ... NOT HER.’
‘NO ... PLEASE,’ she begged.
NO-ooo!’
TWO
THE ROUTE TO SCHOOL
Archie tousled his hair with one hand and grabbed his school bag from behind the crooked door of the attic room with his other. When Archie asked why the door was angled the wrong way to its frame, Old Man Wood replied that it was due to the fact that the house had subsided over the years and was slipping ever so gradually into a hole. When Archie told this to the girls they hadn’t even questioned it, for the whole house was a little bit wonky and therefore this answer appeared entirely normal.
The children’s attic room was shaped like a cross. At each end of the cross were four large rectangular recesses with square windows. In front of these, the children each had their own considerable area, sealed off – if they wished – from the rest of the room, with deep purple velvet curtains. These curtains hung from a black steel rail that ran around the inside and Isabella, as a fourteen years old, now kept hers drawn more often than the twins, who were nearly two years younger and hardly knew the curtains existed.
At the other end of the cross was a communal area. Here, a worn dark green sofa littered with cushions faced a small, metal, Victorian fireplace with a matching surround. Next to this stood a large dark oak bookshelf full of books, old and new. On the other side a door opened onto the staircase that led down to the creaking corridor and the bathroom.
Isabella’s area boasted shelves and a table that were neat and tidy. Clean white paint dominated the walls with a minimum of patterns anywhere and her desk was free from clutter, apart from a solitary fountain pen and a small notebook, in case she had to run up and make a list.
Books in her cream bookshelves were precisely arranged in alphabetical, indexed order, as if they were on parade, and spotlights illuminated every surface with thought-through precision. Contemporary, she called it. Deathly boring, was Daisy’s interpretation.
To prove it, Daisy’s area contained a random collection of photos of friends and family, and postcards stuck down with blu-tack or drawing pins. Next to them a huge, slightly edge-torn poster showed a scene of dappled light shining between trees in a forest – in a mysterious, almost godly way.
On the other side, in a plastic frame, hung a signed poster of her football hero from Barcelona, with the ball at his feet, looking as if he meant action. Daisy had won it at a local fete, kicking footballs through hoops, an
d she loved it.
Archie thought the poster ridiculous and hilarious in equal measure and had drawn a small curly moustache on the player, much to Daisy’s fury.
His area, Isabella argued, was a hell of a mess, with a collection of sweaty socks and his games kit on the floor. Archie didn’t care – so long as the others didn’t complain too much.
When Daisy started mentioning hygiene, he’d take the whole lot downstairs and stink out the boot-room until Mrs Pye couldn’t bear it any longer and threw every last item in the washing machine.
Archie liked his books, magazines and clothes slightly jumbled up, and wasn’t in the slightest bit bothered if his drawers didn’t close properly. But the best thing in his area was a huge, old, red drape inlaid with squiggly golden patterns that he’d found in a storage box in the cellar. Once part of a travelling desert caravan – or so he’d been told – it hung from the ceiling like a tent.
To Archie it even smelt mysterious, and it made a cosy and exotic hideaway, but Isabella thought it was the worst fashion statement of all time.
ARCHIE SWUNG the bag over his shoulder. ‘I’m going the forest route,’ he announced. ‘Anyone want to come?’
‘Not today,’ Daisy replied while staring at her nails. ‘Saving all my energy for the big match – if I’m allowed to play. It’s the announcement in assembly.’
‘Oh yeah, blimey, of course, the announcement,’ Archie said dragging his fingers through his black hair. ‘Good luck ... I’m sure it’ll be fine.’
‘Promise me you won’t get covered in mud or torn to bits with brambles,’ Isabella yelled from behind her curtain. ‘It’ll be detention if you do. And I will make sure you do it.’
Archie made a face.
‘I can tell exactly what you’re doing, Archie de Lowe,’ Isabella said. ‘Ten pounds says you’re making a face.’ Archie stuck his tongue out and waggled it towards her curtain. Daisy laughed.
‘Hilarious,’ Isabella said, as she popped her head out. ‘I’m on a mission to tidy you up, Archie de Lowe. Up until now you’ve ignored everyone. But it has to change, Archie.’
Archie rolled his eyes and, with a smile where the corners of his mouth curled up mischievously, he winked at his twin, turned, sneaked out of the door and down the stairs to the landing below.
