POWER AND FURY

by James Erith

  After eons, the dreamspinners, the most lasting species created at the dawn of time, would no longer be neutral in the ways of the universes.

  But it must be done, for the benefit of all.

  Five

  Kemp’s Story

  Archie draped an arm around his twin Daisy. ‘What was that about—with Kemp?’

  Daisy ran her hands through her hair. ‘Oh, nothing. Just teasing him about being a pillock.’ She smiled cheekily at her brother and sighed. ‘Why does Kemp hate me so much?’

  Archie rubbed his freckled nose and laughed. ‘Because he’s jealous of you. And because you booted him off the team. And I don’t think he knows how to talk to girls.’ Archie pondered this for a second. ‘Or boys either, for that matter.’

  Daisy shook her head. ‘He was always giving away fouls and kicking people... and that was last year—’

  ‘He’s like an elephant who never forgets—’

  ‘Well, he’s ridiculous,’ she complained, ‘elephant or not.’

  Archie grabbed his sister playfully by the waist. ‘Strange thing though, you know, the way he looks at you,’ he said, smirking.

  ‘Never! Although I did ask him for a kiss—as a joke! Gus thought it was hilarious.’

  Archie grinned and glanced over to the far end of the hall, where Kemp was talking to his friends. They locked eyes for a moment, then Kemp reached into his pocket for his mobile.

  Archie turned back to his sister, concerned. ‘Big mistake to kick him. You know, other people do actually feel pain in their legs, even if you don’t—’

  ‘I wonder,’ Daisy said, staring airily into the distance, ‘would Kemp even know me if I didn’t play football? I mean, is there another side to him? How did he end up being such a knob?’

  Archie shrugged. ‘Kemp’s OK. He’s got problems—’

  ‘Yeah, right. Tell me about it.’

  ‘I’m serious. He told me about it in a session of detention.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘It’s true. He made me swear never to tell anyone.’

  ‘Well, go on, then,’ Daisy urged, nudging him. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I can’t, Daisy, it’s a secret.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ she implored. ‘Why do you always do exactly what you’re told? He told me his friends are going to kick the life out of me.’

  ‘It’s still a no,’ he said. ‘Do you understand what having a ‘secret’ means?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘That’s why I can’t tell you.’

  ‘Yes, you can,’ Daisy insisted. ‘For curiosity’s sake, and because it’s sometimes wiser to know your enemy better than you know your friends.’

  Archie wavered for a second and shook his head, even if Daisy did have a point. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Pleeease,’ Daisy begged.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Pleeease, Winkle.’

  ‘God. Okay,’ he sighed. ‘As long as you swear you absolutely won’t tell anyone. And don’t call me that name.’

  Daisy wobbled her head inconclusively.

  ‘I mean it,’ Archie said, ‘don’t breathe a word.’ He eyed her carefully. ‘If he finds out he’ll rip off my arms, suck my eyes out and give them to Isabella on a stick.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. All right. Not a soul. I promise.’

  ‘Okay,’ he began, reluctantly, wondering how he’d given in quite so easily. ‘The thing is, Kemp’s parents died very suddenly when he was little. He never talks about it. And now he lives with his aunt, who he can’t stand. There—’

  ‘That’s awful,’ Daisy said, her eyes wide. ‘How?’

  ‘What do you mean... how?’

  ‘Did they die?’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ he said. ‘One night, driving along in an open-top car way up on the edge of the moors, they hit something, a deer, a fox—no one really knows.’ Archie’s voice turned to a whisper. ‘The rest is properly grim.’

  ‘Go on,’ Daisy said, her eyes bulging with excitement.

  Archie looked over his shoulder, and noticed Kemp exiting at the far end of the hall. ‘Apparently, the car skidded off the road, smashed into rocks and plummeted into a ravine where it blew up. Charred, disjointed remains were found scattered much later.’

  Daisy whistled. ‘Jeeeeez! I can see why he doesn’t want anyone to know.’

  ‘There’s more.’

  ‘Is it worse?’

  ‘Yeah. I suppose,’ Archie said. ‘It took days before the car was found. And when they did, they discovered the bones of only one body. They reckoned the other one was eaten by something.’

  ‘No! That’s terrible,’ Daisy said, staring at the floor. ‘You like him a bit, don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, apart from when he’s a jerk to you two.’

  ‘Well then, Archie, come on, tell me more, I mean he’s probably organising my death right now.’

  Archie ran a hand through his hair. ‘Beneath all that macho stuff he’s quite soft—it’s a barrier he puts up to protect himself, well, that’s what his shrink says—’

  ‘Shrink?’ Daisy blurted. ‘He has a shrink?’

  A few heads turned their way. ‘Yes, shrink, psychiatrist, whatever—keep your voice down.’

  ‘They’re not doing a particularly good job.’

  Archie shot his twin a look. ‘Tell me about it. He seems to snap in and out. I mean, in detention, when he said all this, he cried buckets and went on and on about wanting a normal life with a normal family. And then he thumped me really hard on the shoulder and ordered me not to tell anyone. Remember that massive bruise I had when I said I’d fallen out of a tree?’

  ‘Oh yeah, I thought that was a bit odd.’

  ‘I couldn’t move my arm for a week,’ he said, rolling his shoulder in its socket. ‘He’s sad, bored, and to be honest, lonely. Everyone hates him, and he knows it.’

  ‘Even his sidekicks Jackson and Pulse?’

  ‘Those freaks pretend they’re best mates, but it’s fear that glues them together. Ever seen how they jump to attention when he’s around or their heads get cracked? One moment he’s charming and funny, the next he’s pure evil. It’s like a switch flicks in his head—and he’s strong for his age—the only boy who can match him is Williams—’

  ‘Yeah, I noticed sparks flying between them earlier,’ she said. ‘But, Arch, why does Kemp like you?’

  ‘Because,’ Archie said, raising his eyebrows, ‘I’m probably not worth beating up. And because I don’t deliberately piss him off.’

  Daisy thumped him playfully on the arm. ‘He’s a loser, Arch. Why doesn’t he try being nice for a change?’

  ‘Apparently it’s something to do with offloading emotional pain. That’s why Solomon and the teachers leave him alone so he can do what he likes; they’re terrified he’ll go even further off the rails. I mean, think about it, if our parents got killed we’d probably go a bit nuts, although to be fair,’ and he pinched Daisy on the cheek, ‘you’re almost there.’

  She smiled, sarcastically. ‘Our parents are never around, so it’s almost the same thing,’ she said, a frown slipping onto the corners of her mouth.

  Archie was glad that he wasn’t the only one who missed them. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, you know, about the match?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Thanks, Arch.’

  ‘It’s great news about the England call up. Nothing less than you deserve,’ he said, smiling earnestly at her. His voice croaked. ‘There is another thing,’ he said. ‘Do you remember,’ he began cautiously, sensing his moment, ‘anything about your nightmare last night?’

  ‘Which one?’ she said too quickly.

  ‘Put it this way, you woke me up.’

  She looked confused. ‘Did I? Was it loud?’

  ‘Yeah! The entire Vale of York are probably queuing up outside ready to beat you up. You screamed your head off—I thought you might remember, that’s all. Wondered if you were okay?’

  She shook her head. ‘Now you mention it
, I did have a nightmare about being in the middle of a storm.’

  ‘And that’s it?’

  ‘And finding three tablets in a cave lined with totally random pictures.’ She pulled a face and laughed. ‘Crazy, huh? If I’m honest, it’s a bit of a blur.’

  Archie reeled. His face dropped. Eventually, he spoke. ‘But nothing about me and, perhaps, the small matter of a murder?’

  ‘Seriously? A murder, Arch?’

  ‘Sure?’ Archie reddened.

  ‘Nah, Don’t think so. Why?’ she thumped him playfully. ‘Was that scene this morning something to do with this? Mrs Pye’s furious with you. And as for Isabella... So, tell me, who’ve you been bumping off?’

  ‘It’s not like that,’ he replied, struggling to explain it. ‘You see, I’ve had this recurring nightmare...’ Archie petered out as if was too painful to broach.

  ‘Actually—’ she started, tentatively.

  But Daisy was interrupted by the figure of Mr Solomon blocking out the light. ‘Daisy, Archie, there you are. Now, where is that sister of yours?’

  ‘Over here,’ Isabella said, rushing towards them. ‘Been showing my project to Mrs Douglas. Tuns out she doesn’t know the slightest thing about paleomagnatism.’ Her eyes rolled up as if reaching for the correct term.

  ‘Her grasp of the matter is remarkably loose, to say the least.’

  Six

  Asgard’s Plan

  Asgard flipped into his maghole, arriving in the next moment on the planet of Havilah.

  Wasn’t it strange how all the inhabited planets had once been so similar, but so utterly different? How Assyria and Cush had been vibrant places bathed in a richness of plants and sparkling seas, living mountains and animals, content both on land and in the seas’ great depths. And how Earth had embodied a range of more static options. The trees whose roots remained fastened to the soil, the mountains who moved like sleepy tortoises, and sands which lay flat and lifeless on the ground.

  Then there was Havilah. In every corner there were marvels of nature: towering rock formations in vivid blues, reds, and sparkly whites. Moving forests with colour-co-ordinated trees, and luminescent sea waters. Not to mention the rivers that defied gravity and ran, like snakes, above the land, or the snow and rain that covered the rock cities in multi-coloured droplets like confetti.

  Asgard remembered the golden ceiling and the glittering chandeliers that sparkled so brightly that people dared not stare long at them. He remembered the windows cut from jewels and the polished floors made from intricate patterns of coloured gemstones and shaded timbers. The wall of rock that made up one entire length of the palace, with clear, sparkling waters washing down one side like a waterfall.

  Now, a veil of grey dust and grime smothered it like a thick blanket.

  The dreamspinner walked through the air feeling for Cain’s vibration. Soon, Asgard found himself facing a huge piece of furniture with hundreds upon hundreds of drawers lined up row after row in neat columns.

  A drawer opened nearby, its contents spilling through the air and spreading over the ground.

  It was Cain, searching through his vast stores of precious stones and jewellery, looking for his branchwand.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Cain called out. ‘Which rapscallion of a rascal is it? I’ll have you. I’ll have you right and proper when I find it.’ Another drawer dived through the air, splintering on impact, diamonds splaying into the dust. ‘Because, thief, when I get my branchwand back, I’ll have just enough magic to turn you into a vile piece of slime.’

  Asgard materialised above Cain’s head, his opaque outline shimmering, his blue maghole spraying from his midriff.

  Cain sensed it. ‘Who are you and what do you want? I may be blind, but I see things. Do not underestimate me.’

  ‘It is I, Asgard, the dreamspinner.’

  ‘The dreamspinner, again?’ Cain said at length. ‘Well, well, well. You have returned. It is lucky I am blind so I cannot see your ugly body.’ He floated a little further down. ‘All this exertion exhausts me.’

  ‘You talked with the Heir,’ Asgard said. ‘What do you think?’

  Cain sniffed the air. ‘I do not believe those weak humans on earth are the Heirs of Eden. They are children. They have no magic, nor do they possess a sense of nature. IT IS WRONG!’ he yelled.

  ‘It is true,’ Asgard replied.

  ‘You jest, dreamspinner! Tell me, foul sorcerer of dreams, who are the real Heirs? Where are these men who are blessed with power and incantations? Huh, tell me?’

  Asgard plucked his way across the air in silence and then spoke. ‘Those protected by Adam become the Heirs of Eden, even if the old wizard has forgotten it. It has always been so. I have seen the writing.’

  ‘That’s as may be,’ Cain snorted. ‘It was a foolish idea. You wish to tell me something else though, don’t you?’ he asked.

  ‘On Earth, the clouds are building, Cain, the sky is darkening—’

  Cain went quiet. ‘Then you do not lie,’ he said, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘While I am stuck here alone in this empty, dying land, the planet of the Garden of Eden may be reborn and inflict more useless creations on the worlds. It is diabolical—’

  ‘I come with a suggestion,’ Asgard cut in. ‘The final part of the Tripodean Dream will soon be given—’

  Cain roared as two drawers flew out at the same time, sailed through the air and joined the heap of smashed wood on the floor. Cain peered through the debris in silence.

  ‘They will not succeed,’ he said, softly. ‘They require wisdom, strength and cunning—decades of learning and years of understanding charms. The must have attained physical training to the highest degree. But these infants are less than twenty years old. They do not even understand what is shown to them in their dreams. Is that right, dreamspinner?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then they will never make it past the storm.’

  ‘It is my conclusion, also,’ Asgard said.

  ‘And what of Adam?’

  ‘He has grown old. He remembers nothing,’ the dreamspinner said. ‘Earth has mellowed him. He may be more of a hindrance to the Heirs, than a help.’

  Cain groaned. ‘So, ugly creature, why have you returned?’

  ‘I can aid you,’ Asgard answered, his fingers vibrating the sound. ‘The time for change is now.’

  ‘You have my ear, dreamspinner.’

  Asgard took his time. ‘The supply of dream-powders from the Garden of Eden stored in the great Atrium have ended. Now, we knit and spin from powders made from spider webs on Earth and Havilah.’

  Cain sounded genuinely surprised. ‘Dreamspinners have stored dream-powders from the Garden of Eden for all this time?’

  ‘Yes,’ Asgard replied. ‘These are the dream-powders that nourish us and the creatures we give them to.’

  ‘And so, by taking me to the boy, you gamble that they will fail?’

  ‘I do,’ Asgard replied. ‘To me, their failure is as clear as air.’

  Cain sighed. ‘What can I do? I was cut down from being a warrior, an artist, a lover, and a ruler to a restless spirit with the strength of a faun,’ Cain moaned. ‘Yes, I have way more sway than those vile ghosts I see from time to time, but I have neither eyes for magic nor enough physical strength for a fight. You have a plan for that?’

  Asgard paused. ‘I will tell you more of dreamspinners—’

  ‘Oh why not!’ the ghost replied, his voice laced with sarcasm.

  ‘If a solid being,’ Asgard continued, ‘of flesh and blood travels through our maghole we may suffer to the point of death.’

  ‘What is your point?’ Cain shot back.

  ‘You are not a solid being,’ Asgard responded. ‘You are a spirit.’

  ‘Yes, yes. Why repeat yourself? It is how you took me to the boy.’

  Asgard paused and then signed again rapidly, his slender claws flashing in the air, humming.

  ‘What if you were to absorb a human body?’

 
Cain paused for a beat. ‘Ugly dreamspinner, how would this be in any way possible?’

  ‘Dreamspinners know that if a human was to freely and willingly offer its body to a spirit, there is not a law in the universe that says they cannot both be connected.’

  ‘Ha! You talk piffle of a bygone age.’

  ‘I do not jest,’ Asgard replied. ‘A merger would give you substance. You would move with purpose. You would have strength. You would be able to see.’

  ‘Intriguing,’ Cain mused. ‘Get a human to absorb into me? I have never considered it. Why have I not known about it?’

  ‘Because, Cain, this feat is not easy to accomplish—’

  ‘Why so?’

  ‘For many humans, ghosts do not exist. Furthermore, apart from you, spirits are weak. They have no desire for life. They move quickly to the other places.’

  Cain let out a frustrated groan. ‘But, dreamspinner, in a physical sense, how might this actually happen?’

  ‘A union cannot be forced,’ Asgard said. ‘It must be the true will of the person of flesh.’

  ‘I see,’ Cain said. ‘It isn’t exactly the most ideal of negotiating platforms, is it?’

  Asgard dipped a long almost icicle-like leg into the blue, radiating hole of his abdomen.

  ‘As the storm approaches, you might try and form an alliance with one who realises that there is no further hope. One who might dream of a future elsewhere.’

  ‘That would be possible?’

  ‘Yes. For humans, life on Earth is cherished,’ Asgard said, his vibrations softening. ‘Better still would be an alliance with a child.’

  ‘A human child?’ Cain spat.

  ‘Indeed. But you would have to offer something great in return. Something almost greater than life.’

  Cain circled the dreamspinner. ‘Your words are clever, you strange, vile-looking, dream-giving creature,’ Cain crowed. ‘But if I was to merge with human flesh, wouldn’t it curtail my movements to travel through a dreamspinner? And then what?’

  ‘I am unsure. It has never been tried. Yoking with a large human may harm,’ Asgard said. ‘Though a child, perhaps, might only wear us down, over time.’