POWER AND FURY

by James Erith

  ‘You’re thinking of the boy you took me to?’

  ‘That boy, exactly.’

  ‘An Heir of Eden?’ Cain chuckled.

  ‘He is one of the three.’

  ‘Oh, but can you imagine it?’ Cain said. ‘Stuck on that dead-end planet of Earth, harnessed to a revolting child.’ He sighed. ‘But then again, an Heir with me... in harmony. Do other dreamspinners know?’

  ‘I am alone, for now,’ Asgard said. ‘But dreamspinners will rally to me when they learn the path I have taken. Dreams must always be given.’

  ‘Indeed, I imagine they will flock to you,’ Cain said, clapping his hands together, although being a ghost it made absolutely no noise.

  Seven

  A Word From The Headmaster

  ‘A quick word, if I may,’ Mr Solomon said, his voice kind and his manner fatherly but firm. He looked them over sympathetically. ‘It pains me to say this, but this morning I received a communiqué from your parents who are somewhere in the Middle East. They will not be back for the football or indeed for the whole of half term.’ He scanned their sad faces. ‘It appears they have discovered something of great interest.’

  Archie and Daisy exchanged glances.

  ‘What does it say—what are they doing?’ Isabella asked, and she attempted to read the headmaster’s notepad upside down.

  The principal folded the pad into his midriff. ‘Well, it’s light on actual detail, which, given the circumstances is the very least you deserve. To be honest, I’m not at all happy about it—’

  ‘But we have—’ Isabella started.

  ‘Yes, I know you’re fortunate to have your caretakers at Eden Cottage,’ the headmaster said, ‘but this is the third time I’ve had to reprimand you in the last two terms. Your parents have an obligation to you and this school beyond the callings of their work, regardless of their fame and regardless of their accomplishments in archaeology. What if your caretakers should suffer a heart attack or a seizure or a fall?’ he continued. ‘Then what would you do?’

  The children stared at the floor.

  Isabella finally broke the silence. ‘Sir, Mrs Lowden’s brilliant at helping out; I’ll ask her tonight.’

  Mr Solomon nodded. ‘Very well, but before you go, Isabella, I’m going to entrust you as the eldest to take a letter back to your parents. Collect it from my office before you go.’

  He cleared his throat and turned to the twins. ‘I have given you some simple homework over the break. Please, at least, give it some effort, especially you, Daisy. Your academic record is nigh on appalling, so I’d like you to do some reading on this topic and then reflect carefully on it—preferably before you dream up some hare-brained scheme,’ he smiled badly at Archie, ‘that gets our animal lover here battered into little pieces.

  ‘In Chapter Four of your textbook there is a particularly valuable resource for your essay after half term entitled, “Did God create the universe, or did the universe create God?”’

  Then, in one movement, as though suddenly aware of the time, Solomon straightened, and looked over the top of his half-moon spectacles. ‘Now, for goodness’ sake, over this half term, behave yourselves, children; I cannot and will not have the police and Social Services chasing us around with your parents nowhere in sight. Please do not run into trouble. Understood?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ the children said in unison.

  ‘Excellent. Very best of luck with the football tomorrow morning. There will be a big crowd cheering you on and several members of the press. The circumstances surrounding this game, and the fact that the final involves our rivals has caught the imagination of the entire region.’ He darted a look at Isabella. ‘Best behaviour, please. Now run along.’

  Archie and Daisy scampered off down the corridor, the noise of their footsteps echoing off the old sandstone walls. Mr Solomon mumbled something about the time and, as he turned, saw Isabella lingering.

  ‘Excuse me, sir,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, Isabella,’ the headmaster said, impatiently. ‘What is it now?’

  ‘Well, it’s the weather, sir.’

  Solomon sighed. ‘Yes, what about it?’

  Isabella hesitated. For the first time in her life, her brain had jammed. ‘I’ve made a weather barometer,’ she finally spat out.

  ‘Yes, congratulations on your skilful endeavour,’ he replied. ‘Mrs Douglas notified me. And, atmospheric pressure isn’t even on your syllabus—’

  ‘From my readings,’ she began, ‘there’s going to be a simply massive—’

  ‘Storm?’ Solomon interrupted with a wry smile. He bent down a little. ‘Well, I’m pleased that your readings match up with the area forecast, but I don’t believe there’s anything to fear. A bit of rain and some thunder perhaps. As a precaution, do remind your class to take their umbrellas and waterproofs as I mentioned in assembly.’

  The headmaster scratched his chin and smiled at her. ‘While you’re here, let me remind you that it would be a terrible idea to race on to the pitch again. Please leave events on the pitch to the referee and other officials—whatever the circumstances.’

  Solomon smiled in a false, head-masterly way and straightened.

  ‘I expect nothing less than immaculate conduct, Isabella. There will be drastic repercussions if you brandish that temper of yours again.’ He paused for effect. ‘Do I make myself clear?’

  Isabella nodded.

  ‘Good. Now, I really must fly,’ he said.

  That girl was one of Upsall’s finest ever pupils. Making barometers in her spare time, for fun. He’d never have dreamt of doing such a thing, nor would ninety-nine per cent of pupils they’d ever had at the school. He liked that. And he rather liked the fact that she wasn’t afraid to confront anyone who laid a finger on her brother and sister. And now that he thought about it, there were a surprisingly large number of incidents.

  Well, it was perfectly sweet of her to try and warn him, but he had a leaving party and other pressing matters to attend to. Nothing would stop his celebrations, certainly not a little storm and a warning from a pupil with a homemade air-pressure contraption.

  Sue looked up as Isabella opened the door. She noted how, when her straight brown hair hung like a curtain over her forehead, it made her look slightly older. She was frequently told how similar they were and the joke went round that they were more twins than Archie and Daisy, who looked nothing like one another.

  They were alike in so many ways: top of the academic pile, both enjoyed intellectual challenges rather than sporting endeavour and their features were remarkably similar: Isabella with straight mousy hair, Sue wavy mousy hair. Both had narrow faces, straight noses and brown eyes, although Sue’s lips were fuller and her eyebrows finer.

  But Sue’s appearance turned heads—she exuded sex appeal—and she looked after herself, her clothes and hair had a sense of style, whereas Isabella had a nerdy more academic air and her clothes often sat on her like cloth sacks. Isabella regarded boy’s general infatuation with Sue as a complete waste of time.

  ‘What’s up now?’ Sue said.

  Isabella’s scowl had pulled her brow over her nose as though it were held by an invisible clip.

  Isabella slumped into a chair. ‘You won’t believe what I did,’ she began. ‘I told Solomon there was going to be a massive storm.’

  Sue gasped. ‘You did what?’

  ‘I told him about the barometer.’

  ‘Are you insane?’ Sue said, turning a little red. ‘I hope you didn’t tell him it stemmed from my dream?’

  ‘Of course I didn’t!’ Isabella said, holding her head in her hands. ‘It was so embarrassing—he said he’d seen news of the storm on the forecast. I mean, what was I thinking?’

  ‘I can’t believe you did that,’ Sue said, draping an arm around her and trying hard not to smile. ‘But at least you tried.’ Sue ran her hand over the scientific instrument her friend had made. ‘Maybe your barometer’s faulty—perhaps the calibration’s wrong?’

  �
��It’s not possible,’ Isabella said, frowning. ‘Every time I reset it, exactly the same thing happens.’

  ‘Well, please don’t spend too long fiddling with it,’ Sue said. ‘You’ve got to watch the football tomorrow. It might be Daisy’s final game. In any case, I’m required to keep you under control after last week.’

  Isabella felt a burning sensation filling her cheeks. ‘I know, I know. Solomon reminded me. But I just don’t seem able to help myself—’

  ‘Well, you must. You can’t verbally abuse the referee and then get yourself manhandled off the pitch, screaming like a loon. And you’ve done it twice.’ Her eyes flashed at Isabella. ‘You’ll be expelled if you’re stupid enough to do it again.’

  ‘But Daisy gets kicked and flattened more than anyone—’

  ‘I know,’ Sue said, ‘but she doesn’t make a squeak. It’s a mystery she makes it through week after week and continues to smile as if nothing happened. It’s half the attraction—what makes her unique. And the fact that she’s a footballing genius.

  ‘You need to do the same and control that temper of yours.’

  Eight

  Cain Wonders

  Cain realised the dreamspinner had disappeared by the instant lack of the strange, intense energy they emitted.

  He made a mental note to remember how the buzz tickled his aura.

  For the first time in an age, Cain had a sense of urgency and energy about him. But he worried that he had confused this sensation with frustration, or, perhaps, trepidation?

  Did the dreamspinner not understand how incredibly difficult it would be to succour a child to become a part of him? To the common eye, he was nothing more than a sad old ghost. Would an Heir of Eden do such a thing? And, in any case, why would any human child willingly give themselves over to him?

  Cain hovered to the floor and lay back. He marvelled at the idea of being a little bit whole, a fraction human. Even partially flesh and bone and blood so that he might walk, dance, and maybe even see?

  Was it truly possible?

  His thoughts returned to the boy.

  What had made him nick his cheeks with the knife? Was it the thrill of leaving Havilah or the desire to see if he could use his sixth-sense with the human form? Or was it a tiny piece of revenge?

  It was a stupid thing to do, though, and he knew it. How would the boy trust him again, willingly, when he’d already violated him?

  Cain threw himself at the door, flying straight through. He arrived in the old walled courtyard, scanned the area and hovered through it, dust puffing meekly to the side as he went. Cain located his thin cane and tapped it over the ground. Moving in a straight line across the yard he touched on a lump, like a large, overturned saucer stuck down with glue.

  Cain sighed and knelt down.

  ‘Hello, young one,’ he said. ‘One day soon, you, and all my people will once again see the beautiful world of Havilah all for yourselves. The moons, the sky, and the court of the castle. You will breathe the air and taste the honey of our bees. And, one day, when you are bigger, you’ll drink the wines from our vines and press the flesh of others.’ Cain grinned as his mood changed. ‘And you will sing and dance and fight and love. Just as I once did.’

  ‘But, alas, as I have told you a million times, you will never see me,’ he sighed deeply. ‘And I, regrettably, will never see your dear, sweet face, with eyes, unless I can fathom a way to join with a human.’

  Cain allowed himself a smile.

  ‘And, on this score, my dear little fellow,’ he said, ‘I have news.’

  Cain had no idea if the boy stuck in the puddle beneath him could hear. But he liked to talk, nonetheless, for there was no one else; aside from his man-servant, Schmerger, and Schmerger’s mysterious, elven-like kind.

  ‘So, child, if I am not able to use force, how shall a union with a human be done?’ he said. ‘In another time, I would have snapped off a finger or two, or pressed hot oil into orifices, and, yes, they would beg to do my bidding. But, now, if I am to find a person to join me, they must wish to do it with their whole heart.’

  Cain tapped his cane on a cobble, thinking out loud. ‘If these children are indeed the Heirs of Eden as Asgard claims, then how must they feel? Afraid? Fearful? Confused?’

  Cain jumped up.

  ‘The prophecy! The Tripodean Dream! I must recall every detail,’ he said. ‘How did it go? If my memory still serves me, the Tripodean Dream states that they must solve three riddles in order to find three tablets. And these stones hold the clues to the one key of the Garden of Eden.’ Cain floated onto his back. ‘They have one chance and all must survive. If they fail, Earth is destroyed and,’ Cain smiled, ‘Havilah awakens.’

  Cain shot into the air startling a bird which shrilled in annoyance.

  ‘Infants such as these Heirs could never do it. Never!’

  Cain clasped his hands and floated down to the ground.

  I suspect that that boy has an overwhelming desire to put the images he’s seen in his dreams as far out of his mind as he possibly can.

  ‘It is simple,’ he said out loud. ‘To secure the boy, I must take away his greatest fear.’

  Cain grinned.

  Love and fear, he thought, as the idea formed. The two greatest weapons of manipulation known to mankind. And the thing is, I do believe I know where his fears lie.

  Nine

  Storm Warning

  Sue Lowden looked up as Isabella opened the door, glad to see her best friend. When Isabella’s straight brown hair hung like a curtain over her forehead it made her appear older; more like a seventeen-year-old, perhaps, than her fifteen years.

  ‘Hey, everything all right?’ she said.

  Isabella slumped into a chair. ‘I told Solomon about my barometer.’

  Sue gasped. ‘You did what? Are you insane?’ she said, turning pink.

  ‘He said he’d seen the forecast. What was I thinking?’

  Sue draped an arm around her and held back a smile. ‘But at least you tried,’ she said. ‘Look, maybe the calibration’s wrong?’

  ‘No, not possible,’ Isabella said, frowning deeper. ‘Every time I reset it, the same thing happens.’

  ‘Well, please don’t spend too much time fiddling with it,’ Sue said. ‘You’ve got until the football match to sort it out.’

  Isabella smiled. ‘I’m not sure I can watch. I’ll just lose control again and then I’ll be looking at a red card from school.’

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Sue chided. ‘It might be Daisy’s last game. You can’t miss it, and anyhow, this time I’m going to look after you.’

  She looked straight into Isabella’s eyes. ‘All of this,’ she waved a hand at the barometer, ‘is great—it’s amazing, but it was only a dream. Do you think you’re—’

  ‘I’m doing this because I believe you, Sue.’

  ‘You do?’

  Isabella drummed on the desk. ‘Yes, of course,’ she said, her breathing shallower. ‘You see, I know it sounds crazy, but I think I had the same dream.’

  Sue nearly fell off her chair. ‘You... as well? Why didn’t you say something? How similar?’

  ‘Well, most of it was to do with extreme precipitation, but at the end, it goes a bit crazy. I just can’t remember.’

  ‘Didn’t you write it down?’ Sue said. ‘If you don’t scribble dreams the moment you wake up, there’s no way—’

  ‘Well, I never do,’ Isabella replied. ‘It’s where we differ.’

  Sue tapped the spreadsheet. ‘But if your evidence stacks up, shouldn’t we say something?’

  Isabella shook her head. ‘Forecasters screwed up years ago before they knew what they were doing, before satellites and computer modelling,’ she said. ‘All we have is a homemade, slightly random experiment and a couple of freaky dreams. No one will believe us, look how Solomon reacted.’

  Sue nodded. ‘We’ll be laughed out of school—’

  ‘Yes, yes. I know,’ Isabella said, rubbing her brow. ‘I’ll keep my mouth
zipped, for now.’

  ‘Me, same,’ Sue said. She paused. ‘Isabella, I really need to talk to you about something else—’

  ‘Aha!’ boomed the voice they least wanted to hear.

  Kemp strode in, turned a chair around and sat down slowly.

  Isabella straightened. ‘What can I do for you, Kemp, boys?’ she said.

  ‘Chief nerd, Mrs Douglas, wants to see you right away’ he said. ‘And seriously, it’s a real request. I’m just being super-friendly.’

  Isabella smiled, but her eyes were narrow and icy. ‘Thank you, Kemp. You’ve delivered your message so now you can leave; we’re busy.’

  Kemp opened a book. ‘I’m gonna stay here for a while,’ he replied putting his feet up on the desk. ‘I believe I’m allowed to and, furthermore, I’d like to see this experiment you’re doing. What’s it? A barometer—’

  Sue’s eyes flicked towards the desk.

  Kemp’s followed. Then, he smiled and ran a hand through his hair. ‘You don’t by any chance fancy a date, Sue—’

  Sue stared back at his happy face open-mouthed. ‘With a jerk like you?’

  ‘There’s no need to be like that,’ Kemp said, standing up and grasping his heart. He turned to his mates and winked. ‘One day, Sue, it’ll be you and me? I can feel it in my bones.’

  As he headed towards the door, he extended his arm and gave Sue’s bottom a playful tap.

  Quick as a flash, she rounded on him, slapping his face, the sound like a snapping twig.

  ‘Don’t you dare touch me, you animal.’ Sue chided. ‘You’re fourteen, and your hormones are clearly entering ignition phases, Kemp. So, let’s get this straight once and for all.’

  She spoke slowly. ‘I will never, ever go out with you, even if we’re the last two people alive on this planet. Do you completely understand?’