by James Erith
‘It took us three days just to find this one.’
‘Only because you were poncing about, being all sciencey and dull.’
On any other occasion Isabella would have punched her. But not today. ‘I know, and I’m sorry.’
Daisy smiled and pulled out a bag. ‘We’ll find the next one in the morning. The Blab-is-ter-berry Jelly one, or whatever it’s called. Right now, it’s about time we started to look the part.’
Daisy reached in and slipped on her metal-rimmed, pink-lens spectacles.
She tossed the bag to Archie who pulled out a hat and he passed it on to Isabella.
‘What is it?’ Isabella asked.
‘Just put it on. You too, Archie.’
‘Seriously?’ he said. ‘Do I have to?’
Isabella opened the bag, her face full of questions, and removed the contents.
‘Go on,’ Daisy insisted.
‘Studded, fingerless, black leather gloves?’
‘Absolutely!’ Daisy clapped. ‘Mrs Pye and I have made some adjustments. Same with yours, Archie. Hope they fit.’
Isabella slipped them on and was amazed to find how comfortable they were. ‘What’s with the stud popper thing in the middle?’
‘Oh, that’s a trouser popper. Mrs Pye’s idea, so your gloves don’t slip off.’
Isabella didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘Oh, Daisy, I don’t know—’
Daisy leaned over the table and put a finger to her sister’s lips. ‘Sshh. No more excuses, Bells. If we’re going to save the world we may as well try and look the part. In any case, it’s way time you got a bit more bling, sister.’
She turned. Mrs Pye had reinforced Archie’s beret with leather patches for his spike-ends and added three studs around the rim. ‘You do look handsome, my dear Archie, in a rugged, French kind of way,’ she joked.
Isabella was impressed. ‘That, Daisy, is a very good idea.’
‘Yup,’ she agreed. ‘No more getting poked by those silly spikes, right?’ Daisy shot off next-door and came back holding Isabella’s phone.
Isabella knew exactly what she was thinking and burst out laughing.
Archie protested, ‘Please, Daise. What now?’
‘I think,’ Daisy said, mischievously, ‘that it’s time for a very special selfie!’
AS THE SHUTTER clicked on the camera, they heard a deep groan. The children turned towards the door.
‘Old Man Wood?’ Archie said. ‘He was fine a minute ago.’
‘Oh heck!’ Daisy said. ‘He’s probably drunk on your rum-based tea and crashed out.’
The children smiled at one another.
‘The least we can do is make sure he’s comfortable.’
They trooped back into the living room, a room they barely recognised as paper, canvas and pictures littered every inch of the floor.
‘Lord above,’ Isabella whispered. ‘If Mrs Pye sees this, she’s going to go utterly mental.’
‘It’s a warzone—’
‘Chill, guys,’ Daisy cut in. ‘If we don’t find the tablets, then there won’t be a world left in which she can offload her tidiness anger. We’ll deal with it later. Hey, there he is.’
Archie re-lit a couple of candles and joined the girls next to Old Man Wood on the sofa.
‘He’s fast asleep,’ Bells said.
Daisy wasn’t so sure. ‘Old Man Wood, you there?’
He groaned.
‘Hi,’ she said, resting a hand on his forehead, ‘you should go to bed. Busy day coming up.’
A flicker at the corner of his mouth. ‘I … I think—’ he whispered before slumping back.
‘What?’ Daisy said. ‘You think you’re a bit tiddly, eh, Old Man Wood?’
The old man suddenly looked grey and withered and terribly old as he tried to sit up. The children gasped.
‘Poison,’ he spat. ‘You’ve got to—’
‘Poison?’ Isabella exclaimed. ‘What poison?’
Old Man Wood tried to speak but the words wouldn’t form. His bony hand grabbed Isabella’s wrist and she squealed as he gripped it hard and levered his head off the pillow. He stared at her with watery, scared eyes, ‘Y-o-u … y-o-u-r … p-o-w-errrr—’
And then his grip loosened and his head fell back slowly onto the pillow, like a rock falling through water, and his eyes shut.
A look of peace descended over him.
The stillness in the room was deafening.
Stunned, the children instinctively stepped back as a huge rumble of thunder rolled out over the cottage rattling the glass in the windows.
‘Holy crap,’ Archie trembled. He fell to his knees and wiped a tear from his eye. ‘I think we’ve just killed Old Man Wood.’
TO BE CONTINUED ...
BOOK THREE, THE CHAMBER OF TRUTH
THE RIDDLES
‘The first you hid in the heart of the house
That warms you night and day
Get it out by poking me,
And singing your favourite song along the way!’
‘For the second one you have to find
You burp it from the family belly.
To do this, you have to eat
Blabisterberry Jelly!’
‘The third you search for is underneath your nose.
It’s clear, pure and cold.
In order to draw it out
You need to send a rose.’
‘Put them all together,
Then get out of the way
What you find will prove a guide
For all the other worlds.’
‘You have but seven days and seven nights
As Earth moves in its cycle
From first lightning strike and thunderclap
The world awaits your arrival.’
EIGHTY-THREE
DEAD, OR ALIVE
From all the paper and card and canvasses and various other artworks that had been stripped from their frames and scattered about the floor, it looked as if a tornado had swept through the sitting room.
In front of them, lying on the sofa opposite the fire, Old Man Wood was as still and as pale as a stone sculpture. The gentle embers from the fire glowed red and orange, lighting the hearth and accentuating the old man’s pale, drawn features.
The children peered over him in shock, their lips trembling.
Tears rolled freely down Archie’s cheeks. ‘I killed him,’ he said. ‘The only person who had a hope in hell of figuring out what’s going on, and I murdered him.’ His lip wobbled. ‘It was only tea with sugar and a shot of rum...’
Daisy shook her head. ‘He’s not dead, Winkle.’
‘Of course he is! He hasn’t moved or breathed or groaned for ages—’
‘Didn’t you listen to a word he said? He can’t die. That’s what he told us. He said that he was our great, great you-know, loads of great Grandfathers or whatever it was. So he can’t be dead, can he?’
Archie looked at her, confused. ‘He’s not breathing.’
Isabella reached in and placed two fingers on his neck. ‘There is a pulse, Archie. It’s weak but it’s definitely there. Have a feel.’
Archie replaced her fingers with his, scrunched his face but shook his head. ‘I can’t feel anything.’
For some time there was an awkward silence.
Finally, Daisy couldn’t bear it any longer. ‘What do you think we should do?’ she said. ‘Let him sleep it off?’
‘He’s got to wake up,’ Archie replied, ‘to help us find the other tablets.’ He sat down on the arm of the armchair and gently slapped the old man’s face trying to rouse him. Then he pinched his cheek.
‘Come on, wakey-wakey,’ he said gently. ‘Please, Old Man Wood, you’ve got to wake up—’
‘Water!’ Daisy said. ‘Let’s shock him with a bucket of ice-cold water. That’s what they do in films – or we could give him a shot of whisky.’
‘NOT alcohol,’ Archie said. ‘He’s had far, far too much of that already—’
Wit
hout listening, Daisy whizzed off and returned with a bucket half-full of cold water. She thrust it in Archie’s direction. ‘You killed him, so you do it.’
Archie took the bucket but stood still, utterly appalled. ‘I only did it because Isabella told me to. It was her idea, so she should do it.’
They turned to their elder sister.
‘Absolutely no way,’ Isabella said firmly. ‘If you think water shock is the best idea, then I suggest you both do it.’
The twins looked at one another.
‘What if he wakes up and properly freaks out?’ Archie said.
‘Old Man Wood would never do such a thing—’
‘Daisy, didn’t you notice what happened before? He totally lost the plot. What if he’s now permanently unhinged?’
‘Unhinged?’
‘Well, yeah, damaged beyond repair. You know, like a crazed lunatic psychopath – or worse.’
‘Archie, if you haven’t cottoned on by now, the whole world has gone crazy, and we’re caught in the middle of it.’ Daisy said. ‘Here, give it to me.’
In one movement, Daisy grabbed the bucket and emptied the contents in a long stream directly over Old Man Wood’s head, the water flowing over his nose and down the deep lines of his face and onto his chest.
Instinctively, the twins took a step or two backwards, in case Old Man Wood suddenly stood up and flailed his thick arms.
But Old Man Wood’s deathly face-mask didn’t budge.
The twins turned to each other, laughing nervously, slightly in awe at the volume of water soaking the sofa and carpet.
Daisy’s eyes were wide open. ‘Still nothing?’
‘I told you he was dead,’ Archie said.
Daisy shook her head. ‘But why would Old Man Wood lie about death like that? He would never do such a thing – it doesn’t add up.’
‘Look, you morons,’ Isabella said, standing up impatiently, ‘we can do one simple test to find out. It’ll prove his mortality beyond doubt.’ She hared upstairs and returned moments later holding a small compact mirror, which she placed just under his nose.
‘This is a classic check used by paramedics globally,’ she continued. ‘If he’s alive, the mirror will fog up due to condensation.’
A roll of thunder boomed around the cottage, shaking the foundations of the building and heightening the seriousness of the situation. Isabella held her hand steady.
‘Look, just there.’ Daisy said, staring at it deeply, ‘a tiny coating.’
Isabella frowned. ‘There’s nothing.’
‘Yes, there is! He’s definitely alive.’
Isabella shook her head. But how could she query Daisy when her sister could see extraordinary detail and she couldn’t?
‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely,’ Daisy said, and she stepped forward and prodded one of his arms. ‘He’s probably in some sort of coma and needs to sleep it off. Let’s get him to bed.’
‘But he weighs a ton,’ Archie complained.
‘Dur! And you’re the strongest boy in the world, or had you forgotten?’
Archie shook his head and turned red.
‘For crying out loud, Archie, you pulled that tree out and carried me miles, and pushed an enormous ten-ton boulder out of a cave.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Come on, get with the programme.’
Archie groaned. ‘But I can’t do it all the time, Daisy. I’m not super-strong now. It’s only when I’m angry or really need it.’
‘Then I’m going to make you angry, Winkle,’ she said his nickname very slowly and deliberately. Very, very angry indeed.’
‘Don’t, I’m not in the mood.’
Daisy ignored him. ‘Winkle, Winkle, Winkle—’
‘Stop it!’
Daisy grinned maliciously. ‘Where’s Isabella? She’s usually pretty good at helping me with this kind of thing.’
Isabella yawned and stood up. ‘Here, watching you both.’ She kicked at a bundle of debris on the floor. ‘I hate to be the bearer of obvious news, but if Mrs. Pye walks in here, she is going to have a heart attack.’
‘Big deal,’ Daisy said. ‘She could help us move Old Man Wood if superman-boy here refuses to co-operate.’
Isabella laughed. ‘“Superman-boy”? That has to be the worst hero-label of all time,’ she crowed. ‘Logically, shouldn’t it be “Super-boy”.’
‘Oh, Bells. Really?’ Daisy said. ‘That is so, so ... poofy.’ She studied her watch. ‘Anyway, Mrs. Pye won’t be over until supper. So either we go to her now and explain what’s been going on and how Old Man Wood ended up dead or comatose – or we have an hour to get Old Man Wood into his bed and back to normal.’
The children looked at one another.
‘Well, come on brain box,’ Daisy said to Isabella. ‘Stop thinking and give us a hand.’
Isabella grabbed some matches and lit several candles en-route to Old Man Wood’s bedroom.
Then, with a terrible struggle, the children managed, huffing and puffing, to drag the huge figure of Old Man Wood to the foot of the stairs.
‘Archie, it is incredibly inconsiderate of you not to find your strength when we could really do with it,’ Isabella stormed.
‘Yeah, isn’t it just,’ Archie said, struggling under the dead-weight of the old man’s shoulders. ‘Can you please grab him – I can’t hold him here forever.’
‘No.’
Archie summoned his strength. ‘Look, guys, I don’t know how my muscle thing works, OK?’
Daisy marched up to him and slapped him hard around the face, the noise cracking like a whip.
‘Bloody hell! What was that for?’
‘Because you need to focus and start controlling this gift of yours—’
‘But there’s no need to hit me.’
‘Yes, of course there is! Get a grip.’
Archie reddened and his mace-like hair visibly tightened. ‘Daisy, I’ll get you back for this.’ He took a deep breath. ‘You two hold a leg each.’
Archie lifted and, almost as if he wasn’t trying, he started up the stairs bearing almost the entire weight of Old Man Wood.
In no time, Old Man Wood lay in his bed. The flicker of light from a lone candle emphasised the deep wooden carvings on his bed, and the soft glow of the panels at the foot of his bed highlighted the lines on his face.
‘I hope he’ll be alright,’ Isabella said as she pulled the duvet up over his body. ‘It can’t be good for a man his age to be ill like this.’ She laid a hand on his forehead.
‘What if he’s been poisoned? That’s what he thought it was – he definitely said something about poison,’ she said, as if thinking her thoughts out loud. ‘But where would it have come from? And why aren’t we all infected?’
‘Maybe he caught the virus we heard about on the telly?’ Daisy said, as she also rested a hand on Old Man Wood’s brow. ‘What if he caught it from visiting those trees he told us about – you know the ones, Archie.’
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘He went right underwater – whereas I didn’t.’
‘But I did,’ Daisy said.
‘Did what?’
‘Got drenched when I fell in the ditch on the way to that weird atrium place. And I’m alright, I think.’ She randomly sniffed her armpit as if that was an indicator of health.
Isabella squeezed her shoulder. ‘I’m afraid there’s not much we can do about it – but pray,’ she said softly. ‘He needs to rest, that’s all – there’s nothing more we can do to help.’ She moved a pillow out of the way so that the old man’s head lay flat.
‘Archie,’ Daisy asked, cocking her head, ‘what did you put in his tea?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Two measures of rum and a spoonful of sugar. I dipped my finger in it and licked it – utterly disgusting.’
‘But there was also something really random about it,’ Daisy said. ‘Like toadstools and squealing.’
Archie shook his head. ‘Daisy, you do come up with some rubbish.’
‘No,
I don’t.’
‘Well, it did the trick; we found the first tablet, didn’t we?’ he said.
‘All I’m saying is that I definitely thought there was something in it.’
‘Uh-oh, here we go – your magic eyes again, eh?’ Isabella quipped. ‘Well, I won’t be having any tea from you, Archie. Poor, dear Old Man Wood.’
‘If you ask me, that tea had magic mushrooms in it,’ Daisy said. ‘Don’t they kill you?’
Isabella shrugged. ‘I don’t know. What gets me is this: we only found the tablet because of the song which came from the clues on the five ancient rugs, so does this mean Old Man Wood has been around for as long as he claimed? You know, since the beginning …’
‘But the beginning of what?’ Daisy added.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘But how would he know about the song and the storm and everything else if he wasn’t telling the truth?’
Archie nodded. ‘And remember his despair that he was somehow to blame—’
‘And, of course, there’s this weird bed with its wooden telly panels,’ Daisy added.
‘And spying on us too,’ Archie said, taking off his beanie and stroking his foremost hair spike.
‘The one thing we do know is that we have to solve the riddles – so we might as well try and figure out where the next tablet is as fast as possible. Something about jelly—’
‘Blab—’ Archie tried. ‘Or blisters—’
‘Heck,’ Isabella blurted out.
‘What is it?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ Isabella said, but her face told a different story. ‘Really, it’s nothing,’ she said.
‘You sure?’ Daisy said, sensing her discomfort.
