by James Erith
He thought of Kemp with her, kissing her, fondling her, and his stomach tightened. Nothing, nothing in the world, the universe, could make him angrier.
Then he closed his eyes and drifted into a fitful sleep.
KEMP LAY down on Mrs. Pye’s large bed.
What a wonderful, perfect, brilliant evening, he thought. He turned to look at his mum lying there beside him, a smile on her funny, snarly, scarred face.
She looked at him, he at her as they held hands. Breathing in unison.
Being with his mother felt as though a hole in his heart had been patched up: when he caught her watching him from a doorway, or staring at his hands or squeezing his shoulder.
Little gestures that spoke of a deeper bond, whose once loose ties had been sewn neatly back together again, gave him a new sense of wholeness.
And then, he’d talked to Daisy for what felt like hours. He’d talked about Archie, and he’d told her about Cain and the agony and the choice he’d had to make and how he’d been left in the hospital full of needles and drips.
They even talked about their animosity but agreed how amazing Mrs. Pye was. And he belly-laughed when she told him about Blabisterberry Jelly. And he had said things and opened up to her like he’d never done to anyone before. Not even Archie.
And she was hilarious and crazy and clever and beautiful and ... he couldn’t help feeling that she even ... liked him. Yeah. She definitely liked him.
It wasn’t a sloppy kiss, just a stretched out peck on the cheek that seemed to linger for too long – that kind of kiss. But he’d felt her breath on his cheek, her smell intoxicating, her hair brushing his scalp. A simple, perfect, neat kiss from Daisy de Lowe.
He grinned. It wasn’t so long ago that she’d kicked him in the shin and he’d texted his friends to tell them to literally knock her out of the cup final.
He’d laughed about it, nervously at first, but when he reminded her that she’d teased him about fancying her, he felt himself blush. And she smiled at him and shook her head, and her hair fell wildly over her face and then she’d stared deeply into his eyes with eyes that reminded him of an erupting volcano. And, for the first time ever in life, his heart had raced, soaring high into the sky, fluttering like a bird.
And then he’d returned to the comfort of his mothers unquestionable love. Kemp lay back and stared at the dark ceiling.
And all this joy would vanish if he didn’t defeat Gus.
He shut his eyes. From intense happiness to terrible despair in one brief moment. Wasn’t life a bitch?
He clenched his fist. No way would he lose this feeling. Not in a million years. Not ever.
To keep it, all he had to do was beat the living crap out of Gus, and then follow Cain’s plan.
A QUICK TAP on the shoulder was all it took.
Gus woke with a start, opened his eyes to see Kemp staring down at him, his arm raised as though ready to thrust it down.
Gus panicked. ‘NO!’ he yelled.
‘Come on,’ Kemp smirked. ‘Time to go – and keep the noise down.’
They stole out of the house, the latch clicking into place as the door closed behind them.
‘We’ll never get to the ruin in this,’ Kemp said, waving his arms at the dark, dense, soupy fog around them.
‘Then we won’t have to try and kill each other like barbarians,’ Gus replied. ‘Listen, Kemp, can’t we be sensible and not do what that creepy spirit wants.’
‘Watch your words, young man,’ said a familiar, deep voice. Cain’s voice.
Gus reddened.
‘I know it is hard to believe, but unlike everyone else on this rather dull planet, one of you has the chance to survive and flourish. The other will not.’
‘But the de Lowes beat the weird food test,’ Gus argued. ‘How come you’re so sure they’ll fail? I mean, what if they do succeed?’
‘They can’t.’
‘Why not?’
Cain sighed. ‘Walk with me while I tell you.’ Cain hovered forward, as a bright flame flickered into life at head height. ‘Follow this, but keep close or the fog will swallow you up.’
The boys walked along, every now and then turning a little to the left or pulling sharply to the right. All the while, Cain spoke.
‘To open the Garden of Eden, the Heirs of Eden must do unspeakable things—’
‘But so are we,’ Kemp argued.
‘There’s a chance though, for one of you to live,’ Cain said. ‘For them, success is so very far away.’
‘Why?’ Kemp said bluntly.
Cain seemed to suck in a mouthful of air. ‘We are headed towards a labyrinth, built under the hills where the old castle once stood. In this belly of rock there is a beast that has only recently awoken after a very long sleep. The beast, there since the time of the Great Closing, does not wish to die. Furthermore it is angry and hungry and bitter and desperate.’
‘Yeah? Big deal,’ said Kemp. ‘So what makes it so special?’
The light disappeared and Gus almost clattered into Kemp.
‘The beast is the snake of the Tree of Knowledge. The same serpent who tricked humankind, the beast who rules half of every kingdom; the beast who penetrates minds and toys with them, bending them to her will.
‘Her skin has never been penetrated and her fangs spray deadly poison, as well as fire and ice. She is both huge and small, and can disappear like a chameleon. This beast has slain entire armies and defeated hordes of ogres and giants, werewolves and ancient beasts.
‘Sometimes, she is known as Satan or Beelzebub or the Devil. Her name is Gorialla Yingarna. She is the “mother serpent”, the creator of valleys and mountains.’ Cain paused, for effect.
‘And your dear little friends will have to kill her to get what they need. Be under no illusion, the beast is a perfect creature, an organism above others and a lethal weapon. And to survive, the beast must kill the Heirs of Eden. That is why they cannot succeed.’
Cain moved on. The boys trudged after him silently.
Then he stopped again. ‘And, even if these children do, by a miracle, happen to triumph, there is another challenge that they cannot do, no matter how high the stakes, no matter how many billions will die. They must kill one of their own.’
Gus felt like being sick. ‘Really?’
‘So you see, a new time is coming for mankind. One of you will be there to forge it with me, and one of you won’t. Be assured, the one who fails now will suffer a death infinitely less painful and drawn-out than the gruesome death inflicted upon your friends. I almost pity them.’
Soon, Cain had led them to the ruin. ‘Stand behind this rock, while the fog is cleared.’
‘Who’s going do that?’ Kemp said.
‘Gorialla Yingarna will burn it out. Both of you will have a stick fashioned from the root of a baobab tree. They are hard and light and can inflict terrible damage if used in the right way.’
The ghost left them, heading off alone and, moments later, a great burning, roaring noise like a furnace bellowed into the air around them. The boys ducked as flames licked around the rocks, the heat scorching their faces.
Then the voice called out to them. ‘It is time, boys.’
‘Are there any rules?’ Gus said.
‘No. You may do as you please. If there is no clear winner, Gorialla Yingarna will decide.’
The boys grabbed their wooden clubs and moved out into the main part of the ruin, the arena lit by two burning bushes.
They faced each other.
‘Good riddance, Kemp,’ Gus said. And with those words, he launched a furious assault with a turn of speed that caught Kemp completely off his guard.
ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-ONE
DAISY HEARS NOISES
Daisy stirred. Deep in her bones, an ache remained, that would not go away.
She rolled over, then back again.
She sat up and tiptoed around the attic room, glimpsing the early light of dawn that highlighted the foggy cloud like dirty cotton wool.
&nbs
p; Inside the room, Sue slept on the sofa, her snores gentle and then petering out as she moved her head.
Daisy crept back to bed and sat up, thinking.
Quiet.
She smiled about Kemp, reddening at the memory. He’d kissed her goodnight, or did she kiss him? OK, so it was only a peck, but her heart had jumped at the sensation. And she’d wanted to... but then … she blushed.
She closed her eyes and listened to the quiet. So still she could hear the beat of her heart.
Then she heard it; a strange talking noise. She shook her head as though something had climbed into her ear.
There, again.
She tuned in. Someone talking and then ... Gus. It had to be. And now Kemp.
It couldn’t be. She shook her head.
Something about death. Something about a fight.
But they were downstairs, weren’t they?
Without hesitating, Daisy shot off and inspected the living room but found an empty sofa, the blankets discarded. She checked the bedrooms.
She opened the door and searched the building opposite. Still nothing. She stood outside in the murky light and listened.
Suddenly a roar, like a dragon, burst out of the fog. She stared up the hill, and now that she thought about it, a fleck of light made the fog brighter.
Goosebumps raced across her skin.
They were at the ruin.
She rushed in and grabbed her boots, coat and hat, closed the door and set off into the fog.
The farther she went, the clearer the noises. She ran and jumped and skidded as fast as she could, burning a hole in the vapour with her eyes.
As she turned off the track she heard it. Sounds of grunts and cries and moans. Fighting. Wood cracking on wood.
She moved further around, where she might see into the courtyard of the ruin and slipped between a tiny gap that separated two sheer boulders, an old hiding place she knew well from games of hide and seek. It gave her a perfect view. And from experience, she knew it was impossible to be seen unless from right up close.
Now that she looked out, in the centre, a small tree burned and the fog fell away like the edges of an arena.
Gus, his dark hair matted to his forehead, teeth gritted, attacked hard, smashing down with his stick on top of Kemp.
Her heart leapt.
Kemp managed to fend off several blows, then swung but without great purpose, turned and limped towards her hiding place.
She could see how his face was smeared with blood. A gash cut angrily across his forehead, reminding her of Mrs. Pye’s scar. His lip split, his ear bleeding. He hobbled.
Gus walked behind, teasing him. Ready to smash him again.
Why? She thought. Why were they beating the living daylights out of each other?
Kemp rallied and slashed back, catching his upper legs.
Now, they were only ten metres away.
Gus held his stick out and, in a flash, wallopped it down on Kemp’s shoulder. Then, another blow, this time to the kidneys.
Kemp doubled over and fell. ‘Stop!’ he cried.
Gus moved over him. ‘Sorry, mate,’ he said, almost apologetically. ‘You know the deal. There’s only room for one. Only one can inherit the Earth.’ He laughed nervously. ‘And just so you know, I would rather have you die than for you to take Sue.’
Daisy pulled herself further into the crevice between the rocks. Take Sue? What did he mean? She scoured the area searching for something that might explain all of this.
And there it was.
Sitting on a rock to the side was a lizard the size of a lion, a forked tongue flicking in and out of its mouth. She turned back to the boys and when she looked up again, the lizard had gone. But now, she noticed, on the other side was a huge snake, like a boa constrictor, coiled neatly in a pyramid shape.
A cold, icy feeling swept through her. Was it one and the same thing?
Kemp ran, but Gus was too fast. A sickening thud over Kemp’s back made him crash to the floor only yards from her hiding place.
Blood soaked his face, his head streaked with red.
Daisy winced. Tears formed. She wanted to do something but knew that whatever was happening here, it wasn’t her fight.
Gus leant on a rock nearby. ‘There,’ he yelled out into the air as though addressing a crowd. ‘What would you have me do? Beat him to a pulp? He’s finished. Aren’t you, Kemp?’ Tears ran from his eyes. ‘Aren’t you?’
A cold voice answered him. ‘Your requirement is to eliminate your opponent. No more and no less.’
Gus roared his disapproval. ‘Come on! We’re kids! Kids! This is barbarous. Is this what you would have us do, huh? Go round destroying everyone, like maniacs?’
Gus slumped to the ground and sobbed.
‘The fittest of the species always survive,’ the voice continued with a trace of mockery. ‘The defeated never write history, so they never shape history.’ And then, almost as an afterthought, the voice added, ‘this sort of lack of killer instinct is why the Heirs of Eden will fail. Because they are weak. Because they, like you, are pathetic children. Show me your strength Gus, and you will prevail.’
Gus gritted his teeth in frustration and moved out into the open towards Kemp.
Daisy looked through the slit of stone at the prostrate body of Kemp. She bent her head and noticed a small rock in front of her foot, the size of a tennis ball. She worked it free with her foot.
Gus screamed. ‘Come on! Please! Let him go ... this is crazy!’
Daisy levered her foot back and kicked the stone ever so gently. It rolled over the stony ground and doffed Kemp on the shoulder.
She watched, wide-eyed, as, very slowly he craned his neck and for a moment stared directly at the gap, certain that his eyes met hers.
Now his hand rested over the stone. He raised his head again.
She could’ve sworn that he saw her.
Kemp lay still.
Was her action too late? Was he too far gone?
Daisy desperately wanted to rush out and grab him. Wake him up, but in no time Gus returned and stood over him.
‘Sorry, Kemp,’ he said. ‘I really don’t want to do this.’ He raised his stick in the air.
Daisy couldn’t bear to watch and shut her eyes.
And then suddenly there was a crunching noise, like the snapping of twigs.
Gus howled and fell to the ground.
They tore into one another ... Kemp rolled on top and pummeled him once, twice, three times with the stone in his hand.
And there was Gus, flailing wildly, aiming for the throat, punching anything.
When she opened her eyes again, the two boys lay on the ground, blood streaming from their wounds.
Kemp was the first to pick himself up.
‘Run, Williams,’ he croaked. ‘Go. Get out of here.’
Kemp eyed up the sticks and picked them up. He tossed one out of the courtyard into the fog.
‘Piss off out of here,’ he roared. ‘Now. Anywhere.’
Gus stirred and dragged himself to his knees.
Daisy noted the damage to his face – a front tooth missing, swollen lips, his nose badly flattened.
Kemp walked away towards the far end.
Gus following. Both limping.
Kemp kept on.
Gus tried to break into a run as if to catch him.
At the far end Kemp stopped.
She heard him pleading.
‘Run, Gus. Please, leave me.’
‘It’s too late for that,’ Gus said, circling him.
Kemp shook his head. ‘No it isn’t. Gus, please.’
Gus smiled his big, toothless grin. ‘Then you should go.’
Gus rushed him but it was slow and clumsy. Kemp had time to step aside and crack him with the stick. Gus reeled, his feet unsteady.
Daisy’s tears fell. She looked away and saw, instead of the boa constrictor, a monster, similar to the dragon in the stained glass of Upsall church. The dragon flew close to the boys a
nd disappeared.
She refocused on Kemp, who pushed Gus away, but back he came, staggering like a drunk.
Kemp shrugged. Then, with a huge swipe, he walloped Gus in the midriff, and, as he raised the stick to crack it over Gus, Gus toppled one way and then the other, and vanished into thin air.
Daisy shook, her whole body filling with grief.
Nearby, a deep, powerful roar was followed by the strange “bark” that she’d heard with Archie.
Kemp raised his hands to his face, let out a desperate cry and, very slowly, sank to his knees.
ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-TWO
AN OFFER
Daisy moved out of her hiding place, shaking.
What had she done? Her stomach knotted, her head throbbed with white, empty pain: This was her fault.
HER FAULT!
She thought of Isabella and especially Sue. Could she tell them she had given Kemp a weapon with which he had slain Gus?
Brave Gus who had escaped the storm only to be brutally murdered – and she hadn’t lifted a finger to help.
Worse still, she was party to his murder.
CAIN HOVERED OVER TO KEMP. ‘The deed is done, boy,’ he said, quietly. ‘You have won.’
Kemp stared numbly at the rock.
Whispering, the spirit continued, ‘you have an opportunity to seize the girl, this Heir of Eden you are so fond of.’
Kemp looked confused, but when he turned, he found Daisy looking at him, from the other end of the courtyard.
His heart sank.
‘Go to her now,’ Cain whispered. ‘Go to her and persuade her to come with us. It is the best chance you will ever have.’
‘She will despise me,’ Kemp said, drawing his sleeve across his face. ‘Because I have done something awful.’
Cain slapped him across the face. ‘Wise up, boy. You can save her. Maybe not now, but later. She will go to a dark place where her life will hang in the balance. You have the power to offer her an alternative to death.’
Kemp cocked his head. ‘Save her later, how?’
‘All she has to remember, boy, are the words used to call the dreamspinner, Asgard. You know what they are. Asgard will know what to do.’
