Eden Chronicles Box Set Books 1-3

by James Erith

  But why?

  Perhaps another dreamspinner was close at hand? She searched her vibrations. Nothing. Dreamspinners moved through the universes so fast it was as if they were fluid. This dreamspinner would have to be caught in the act.

  Gaia looked down on the boy who turned his head on the pillow. The children had no idea what was about to happen. She moved in close and administered a deep space dream in the hope that the meeting with Cain might feel like it never happened. Whether it worked was up to Archie’s subconscious to decide.

  Hoping it was enough, Gaia inverted into her maghole through the void to another world.

  FIFTEEN

  HAVILARIAN TOADSTOOL POWDER

  Cain could feel his overcoat bearing down on his body, but he had an idea, an idea so brilliant he was determined to carry it out even if it meant he had to let the coat slip to the floor.

  It was another stroke of pure genius. While searching through his cupboards, he’d stumbled upon a jar of grey powder. Cain pulled the jar out of his pocket and inspected it – wondering if the contents were still alive. He smiled. Havilarian toadstool powder. A lethal poison, designed to kill those from the Garden of Eden. There was enough powder to reduce the old man to a ghost just like himself – several times over. Old Man Wood’s value would be nullified – not that he had much worth. The old man would become a spirit just like him and therefore even more useless than he already was.

  Cain reached the hallway. No Asgard. Good, he thought, better the dreamspinner doesn’t know.

  Cain cursed as his ghostly frame struggled under the weight of the coat. He let it fall to the floor in a heap. Then he searched the vibrations of the room and as he did a map started to appear in his mind’s eye. He needed to find the kitchen. He headed down a corridor and came to a door. As he was carrying the powder it meant he couldn’t go straight through it, so with a great deal of effort, he pushed it open and slipped through. Instantly he sensed a room with a table in the middle. He could feel the resonance of plants and foodstuffs hanging from the ceiling. A little to the left were strong vibrations of a smouldering fire – a cooker perhaps. Good; he was in the right place.

  As he moved about, he could feel the energy of the cupboards. Then he thought hard about sugar. Cain felt a surge of energy. There it was. Near to the cooker. He opened the door. The sugar grains were there, exactly as he suspected, nestled in a bowl.

  Cain grinned. Easy to see, he thought, when one has had eons of time to master the energy around us. With considerable effort, and taking far longer than he anticipated, he opened the jar and poured the contents into the sugar bowl, which as far as he could tell, was half full. Perfect. As he did, he could hear tiny squeals coming from the powder.

  Cain chuckled. Double luck. The Havilarian toadstool powders were most definitely alive.

  Cain replaced the items and drifted out of the room back to the fireplace. He felt for the vibrations of the spider. Nothing. Damn.

  Upstairs he could hear the yawns of the old man stirring in his bed and his feet padding on the ceiling above.

  Come on, Asgard, where are you?

  A moment later, the stairs began to creak very loudly under the old man’s weight.

  Cain didn’t want to hang about. Even though he knew he couldn’t be seen he absolutely didn’t want to be sensed. He didn’t want anyone to know that he was out, had left Havilah, and was in the house of his father – the house of his greatest enemy.

  As the footsteps got louder he heard a noise. ‘Master, it is Asgard. Dive now. Do nothing else.’

  ‘About time,’ Cain snapped. Without waiting to be prompted, Cain knelt down and dived, hoping like mad it was at the right place. As he left, he heard a small cough and the shuffle of feet as Old Man Wood entered the room.

  ‘You cut it fine, dreamspinner,’ he snapped.

  ‘I cannot pretend it was easy, Master. One of the dreamspinners is suspicious. I must go. There are dreams to give and other dreamspinners to talk to. I cannot be found in Havilah.’

  ‘Find me in eight hours as the storm breaks,’ Cain said. ‘With luck, I will get the boy. You know there will be no hiding place for you, dreamspinner, if this is the case?’

  Asgard signed. ‘That is why I must go. There are others I must talk to.’ He inverted, leaving Cain in his great ballroom.

  Cain gasped. A terrible realisation struck him; he had left the coat behind with the dagger in the pocket! But his shock soon turned to glee and then laughter.

  Ha! The cut on young Archie’s chin might be explained by a bump in the night but the coat will prove I was there, he thought. The boy cannot ignore it. Archie will see it and take it. Cain thumped the air. Oh, to see the look on his face! And now he will come to me, like flies to sugar.

  Enjoying the image of the sugar bowl filled with Havilarian toadstool powder and flies, Cain threw his invisible head back and roared with laughter, the noise echoing eerily down the passages and through the rooms of his huge palace.

  What an astonishing, fabulous day.

  SIXTEEN

  SIMILAR DREAMS

  Daisy woke twiddling her hair.

  She pulled the duvet over her head, lay back and shut her eyes. She could feel the intensity building in her head once again and a sharp noise rang in her ears. Then the flashing started: images, like snapshots, of water, endless water, the feeling of drowning, flooding, trees and strange things that talked to her: a great chamber, skeletons, serpents, stone things like books flying through the air and ... dog poo, the one thing she detested more than anything else. And then darkness and a feeling of evil that turned her body cold like ice. She shivered as her nausea grew, and her eardrums thumped and her eyes ached as if the lids had been smeared in hot wax that, having cooled, were heavy and uncomfortable.

  And again there was the murder in cold blood – or so it seemed. Why was it always Archie?

  She gasped and then her sobs filled the room. ‘Ancient Woman!’ she cried out. Why was it always the same sad haggard old woman?

  ISABELLA CLIMBED OUT OF BED, ran across the room and closed her arms around her. ‘It’s me. Are you alright? You look terrible.’

  Daisy burst out crying ‘Why?’ she sobbed, hiding her head under the duvet.

  Archie joined his sisters. ‘Daisy, it’s me, winkle,’ Archie said, trying to sound as supportive as he could. ‘What’s up?’ But his question was met by an even louder outpouring of tears.

  ‘Now look what you’ve done!’ Isabella said, turning on him. ‘This is so your fault.’

  ‘But I haven’t done anything. I didn’t touch her – and anyway, it was you that set her off in the first place.’

  ‘Nice try, Archie. The last time Daisy was this traumatised was when you put dog poo in her slippers three years, two months and sixteen days ago. So what is it now? Another one – or is it something else equally as vile?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, you’re completely over-reacting—’

  Isabella faced Archie. ‘Listen, Arch. This is a girl problem – so please, please can you give us a couple of minutes?’ she smiled thinly at him. ‘Be useful – go and see if you can get us a cup of tea or something?’

  Archie rolled his eyes and walked off.

  With Archie out of the way, she turned to Daisy and looked lovingly into her eyes. ‘Right now,’ she said, taking a couple of deep breaths, ‘you look like you need a huge dollop of sisterly love.’

  ARCHIE TRUNDLED down the creaking corridor, his face burning like molten lava. No one gives a damn how I feel. No one ever asks me what’s been going on in my head. And why is it is always my fault? It’s not fair. He stretched out his arms and thrust out his chin. As he did so, he felt the sting of a cut. He froze. Cloudy images of the previous night rushed back at him. Before he knew what he was doing he had dashed into the bathroom and was looking in the mirror. It was a small incision, just as he suspected.

  Archie couldn’t believe it. Ever since he’d woken the words of horse and lion
had reverberated in his head. What was it again: ‘The strength of a horse and the courage of a lion?’ He shook his head. Nah – ghosts didn’t really exist, did they? But why was his memory so foggy and why did the meeting he’d had in the middle of the night feel so wrong, but yet so right?

  Archie put his head down, deep in thought, and headed towards the kitchen.

  Mrs Pye, who was ploughing through a huge pile of washing, looked up as Archie came sloping in. ‘You taking an elephant for a walk?’ she said.

  ‘Uh? An elephant?’ he repeated. Archie realised what she meant and tried desperately hard not to break into a smile.

  Mrs Pye leant against the sink. ‘What’s the matter with you lot?’

  Archie coughed. ‘Bells and Daisy had a bad night. They’re talking about some, er, girlie things, you know ...’ Archie mumbled. It was the first thing that had popped into his head.

  ‘Periods?’ Mrs Pye said very loudly. ‘Daisy becoming a woman now, is she? About time, I suppose.’

  Archie went bright red. Oh no. Was this what was meant by “girlie things”? He had no idea why he’d told Mrs Pye they were discussing “girlie things”. Menstruation was just about the last thing on his mind. He thought he’d better change the subject. ‘Er, my throat’s really sore, Mrs P, and my head hurts; feels like someone’s tightened a clip around my neck.’

  ‘Come here and I’ll have a look.’

  Archie sidled over to the sink and Mrs Pye took his head very gently in her hands. ‘What’s this cut on your chin? You been playing with your knives again?’

  ‘No. Of course I haven’t,’ he said, weakly. ‘I fell out of bed and bashed it on something.’

  Mrs Pye looked at Archie suspiciously. ‘I won’t tell – you know that. I know you like to disappear off to the potting shed and practice your throwing, though Lord only knows why.’ She took his hand, and then felt his forehead and then the back of his neck. ‘It’s your sister who doesn’t approve.’ Mrs Pye had finished her medical. ‘You is a bit sweaty, young man. Could be a fever coming on. And what with all that noise in the middle of the night – well, I don’t know what to make of it.’

  She rubbed her chin, thinking what might be the best cure. ‘I reckon you need a couple of ...’

  ‘Apples?’ Archie said.

  Mrs Pye raised her eyebrows. ‘Yep, how do you guess?’

  Archie forced a smile. Mrs Pye’s medical knowledge was virtually non-existent and apples were her No. 1 cure for pretty much everything. And Old Man Wood did seem to have an astonishing array of apple varieties in the garden, which he absolutely swore by.

  ‘And I tell you what,’ Mrs Pye added, ‘how about I bring up some poached eggs on toast and a cup of tea for each of you – with Marmite on the toast on this special day? That’ll have you right in no time. You’ll be as fit as violins for your game. Today, of all days, you’ll need all the energy you can get.’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs Pye,’ Archie said, smiling and giving her a big hug.

  Mrs Pye would do anything for him, and Archie knew it. But with the twins’ twelfth birthday only a couple of weeks away, Archie was hardly so little any more.

  ARCHIE HEADED upstairs to break the news. ‘Can I come in now?’ he yelled from the top of the stairs.

  Isabella opened the door. ‘Sorry Arch, been a bit of a funny morning. Any luck with the tea?’

  ‘Even better,’ he beamed as he stepped inside. ‘Huge breakfast en-route – thank you very much.’ He looked rather pleased with himself and then he started to go red.

  Isabella noticed. ‘What have you done? You look ridiculously guilty!’

  Archie pulled a face. ‘I told Mrs P that you were having, er, girlie problems – you know, like, er, periods. It just popped out.’

  Daisy exploded into laughter. ‘Periods? You? OMG, hilarious,’ she said, slapping him on the back. ‘Winkle, that’s a classic.’ Her mood instantly lifted. ‘If you must know I started my “time-of-the-month” a month ago. It’s cool. You see, Archie, I’m turning into a wo-man.’ Daisy stood up, posed and strutted around the room. ‘The person you see here is ALL woman.’

  Archie laughed. ‘You could have fooled me—’

  Daisy ignored him and grabbed his hands, ‘Wo-man, wo-man,’ she said in a low growl which she hoped was cool and sexy. ‘I am ALL WO-MAN.’

  In no time the twins were dancing a kind of strange waltz in the middle of the room, occasionally tripping over each other’s feet and crashing to the floor and singing, “WO-MAN!” over and over again.

  Typical Daisy, Archie thought: one minute scared to death, the next it was quite forgotten about.

  Mrs Pye rapped on the door. ‘Give us a hand will you!’

  Isabella rushed over, opened it, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head at the massive tray. It must have weighed a ton. On it were an array of plates and cups and dishes with poached eggs, bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes. A full rack of toast stood neatly in smart rows and pots of marmalade and Marmite were squeezed on top. Finally, there was a large pot of tea with a jug of milk.

  Mrs Pye set it down on the table, drew in some large gulps of air and straightened up. ‘Now then, which one of you has the girl problems?’ she announced.

  Daisy sniggered, grabbed Archie’s hand and threw it in the air. And then, keeping as straight a face as she could, she flicked his hair and said, ‘Mrs P, it’s a terrible to-do. You see, overnight, Archie turned into a girl called Archiebell and I’ve got a mega problem with it.’ She shrugged. ‘So now we are all WO-MAN here.’

  Both Mrs Pye and Isabella shook their heads in a mock-horrified kind of way, but the twins fell about laughing as if it really was the funniest thing in the world.

  AFTER THEIR UNEXPECTEDLY ENORMOUS BREAKFAST, and now that Daisy had calmed down, Isabella felt it was time to question her. ‘Daisy,’ she began quietly, ‘earlier you called out, “Ancient Woman”. Can you tell me why?’

  Daisy took a couple of deep breaths to compose herself and as she did a shadow seemed to fall over her face. ‘It was another nightmare,’ she began, hoping she wasn’t sounding completely idiotic. ‘I’ve had three now,’ she said, scratching her chin nervously. ‘All totally disturbing, but last night’s was the best ... and the worst ... and the weirdest.’ She looked at her sister for support. ‘They’ve been so real – I could smell things, understand everything; birds, trees, plants. They talked to me – properly talked! It’s just so complicated, I don’t really know where to begin.’

  Daisy scrunched her face up and ran a hand through her hair, getting her fingers temporarily caught in a knot. ‘And then – then there was this old woman telling me about a wonderful, beautiful place and ... also, yes, also there was a terrifying storm – a sort of endless hurricane that felt like it was after me. It had the lot: lightning, mudslides, tons of water beating me to death. I was drowning ...’ she tailed off leaving a silence in the room.

  ‘What is it, Daisy?’ Isabella prompted.

  ‘I dreamt I reached a sanctuary – and only then was I safe from the storm. It was like ... Heaven.’

  Isabella couldn’t believe it. Daisy’s dream sounded so similar to hers. She had to find out more. ‘Daisy, what happened to this Ancient Woman.’

  ‘Well, I’m pretty certain this haggard old woman was trying to tell us something,’ Daisy said. ‘You see, in each dream she died—’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Daisy said, her eyes wide. ‘Really violently and every time in a different way. It was like being there – I could feel myself actually screaming – but I couldn’t tell who’d done it,’ Daisy said, hoping she hadn’t made it obvious that she knew who it was.

  She took the silence from the others as a green light to continue. ‘Look, I know it sounds nuts, but this “Ancient Woman” knew about us ... she knew everything ... even though we were in a completely different world.’ Her eyes searched her elder sister’s, begging her to believe her. ‘It’s terrified the living daylights out of m
e.’ Her bottom lip began to tremble and tears welled in her eyes. ‘Every time I think about it, I think I’m going mad.’

  ARCHIE STARED LOVINGLY at his twin sister. He loathed her for ignoring him when it suited her and for being better at sports and for her ridiculously carefree nature. But he loved her quirky manner and her honesty. If only he could muster the courage, like her, and say what he felt. If he did, perhaps everything would be clearer.

  Then, without warning, tears began to well up in Isabella’s eyes.

  ‘Oh no. Not you as well!’ Archie said.

  ‘Me too!’ Isabella cried, tears streaming down her face. ‘Same – exactly.’

  Archie’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. ‘But that’s crazy—’

  ‘I know – it’s totally bonkers.’

  Archie was confused. ‘Just like Daisy’s? Are you sure?’

  ‘It’s the truth,’ Isabella insisted. ‘I swear it. Three intense dreams like Daisy’s: clear as glass – but making no sense whatsoever. I’ve never been so amazed or happy or terrified, and what’s more, just as Daisy said, it always ends in death.’ She burst into tears. Daisy handed her a tissue and she dabbed at her eyes before continuing. ‘It’s like flying into a cloud and every now and then, as you get used to it, you find yourself back in the cloud, trying to figure out what’s going on.’ She grabbed another tissue. ‘And I keep seeing rain, torrential, terrible rain and lightning – you know how I’ve been going on about this deluge, well it’s terrifying me ... it’s as if this stupid storm targeted us alone.’

  Daisy nodded in agreement.

  Isabella touched Archie’s shoulder tenderly. ‘And I’m sorry I was grumpy with you, Arch,’ she said, as she raised her eyes and offered him a quick smile. ‘It’s just a bit overwhelming and confusing.’

  It was now Daisy’s turn to ask the questions. ‘What did you make of this “Ancient Woman”?’