The Moon Stealers and the Quest for the Silver Bough (Book 1)

by Tim Flanagan

  He then reached inside his back pocket and passed Scarlet an old note-book bound together by a strap of leather which was attached at one end to a pencil.

  ‘Write this down for me,’ he instructed to Scarlet who quickly unwound the note-book and found a blank piece of paper.

  ‘Where flights of arrows come down from a height,

  And Stevenson’s treasure is hidden from sight.

  Amongst the thistles and under the crown

  The trusted and pure with head bowed down

  Below the bridge, a piper alone,

  The bard’s sweet song turns water to stone.

  From one true touch the stone will part

  And only be used by the brave at heart’

  ‘But what does that mean?' asked Max. ‘It doesn’t sound much like a message to me.’

  ‘It wasn’t going to be easy to find the Silver Bough,’ said Joe to Max. ‘If it was, anyone would be able to find it. The message is a clue to wherever it’s kept. Just think of the security Sir Hadwyn put in place to stop people getting into his tomb.’

  Edgar stepped back from the tomb thinking of the words he had just retold to Scarlet. He wasn’t sure what it all meant yet, but he knew that Hadwyn had left the message specifically for Edgar to find so that he could discover the location of the Silver Bough.

  ‘We’d better go,’ he said quietly as he bowed his head to show respect and thanks to his dead brother. Scarlet bound the note-book up with the strap of leather and passed it back to Edgar, then they all walked back out of the chamber, between the pillars and stood once again at the circular stone entrance to the tomb.

  Edgar reached to the pocket watch that could still be seen in the centre of the stone near to the wall, turned the hands back to the five o’clock position and the stone ground its way back to its original place. Once it had stopped moving, Edgar took the watch out of the hole, replaced the front and back and put it safely into his pocket.

  As they walked back along the passage to the crossroads, Edgar was silent with a sad look on his face, thinking about his brother and the riddle he had left them. This soon changed as he stopped abruptly and turned his head slightly towards the original passage they had come down so that he could hear more clearly. The children stopped too.

  ‘What is it?' asked Joe in a nervous whisper.

  ‘I thought I heard something,’ replied Edgar quietly. They waited. Then they heard a squelching sound; like bubbles moving through a thick liquid and it seemed to be coming down the passageway ahead, directly towards them.

  ‘This way,’ said Edgar quickly changing direction and walking down the third passage.

  ‘What do you think it is?' asked Max.

  ‘It’s probably what Peter saw in the graveyard and also what made him run to the Faerie Ring to escape’ he replied. ‘Come on, we can’t stop. We all need to move quickly!’

  17. The Theft

  It felt like they had been sat on the river bank for the whole day, but it was in fact only about 10 minutes before they heard the siren of a police car and saw two policemen walked towards them. Georgia was glad that Steven had sat down next to her; her body desperately needed the reassurance of human contact and she found it comforting to feel his arm around her shoulders. Steven had become aware of a cold chill in his body, knowing that the dead person’s hand was in the water just feet away from them. The shaking in Georgia’s body had slowly stopped as she took more and more gulps of air and calmed herself down.

  Steven stood up and walked over to meet the policemen and began explaining what had happened. From where she was, Georgia couldn’t hear clearly what they were saying, but she noticed that they would occasionally turn and look at her or towards the hand in the water before continuing to talk. Other police officers began to arrive, some inspected the bullrushes whilst others sectioned off the area with yellow plastic tape and wrapped it from one tree trunk to another to prevent people wandering off the footpath to see what was happening.

  Down by the river Steven could see other men putting on diving suits and walking into the water. An older man had now arrived and seemed to be directing some of the police officers around the arm, then instructed them to bring it out of the water.

  Steven and the policeman he had been talking to walked up towards Georgia.

  ‘So you actually found the hand?' asked the Sergeant. Georgia stood up and nodded.

  ‘I thought it was some clothes at first and tried hooking them out but then that, the hand. I must have dislodged it,’ Georgia looked pale.

  After taking some photographs, the officers slowly lifted the hand out of the water, dragging a ripped shirt behind it but without the body attached. Paper sheeting was then laid out on the grass and the arm was placed carefully on top of it. The older man then put on a pair of latex gloves and gently examined the hand, turning it over and lifting the shirt sleeve up.

  Another policeman brought the metal detector that Steven had placed on the floor when Georgia called for him over for Sergeant Allen to see then whispered something into his ear.

  ‘Is this yours?' Sergeant Allen asked.

  ‘Yes, we had been looking in the woods for treasure,’ Steven lied. He didn’t know if he should tell the Sergeant the truth or not, but as soon as he said the word treasure he wished he hadn’t. It wasn’t a very good lie but he wasn’t sure whether his superiors at MI6 would allow Steven to talk to the Police. Steven remembered what Seward had said in the white room that the information was “top secret and to be protected at all costs.”

  ‘Did you find any treasure?' asked Sergeant Allen sarcastically, who had not believed a word that Steven had said.

  ‘No,’ he replied shaking his head.

  ‘What about the water samples you took?’

  Steven hesitated for a moment, unsure what to say without making himself look suspicious; they had obviously looked inside the fabric bag and found the specimen tubes that Georgia had been filling. He decided to say what he could but without giving away any information.

  ‘I need to speak to you in total confidence,’ he said to Sergeant Allen in a whisper, who now looked confused. ‘My name is Steven Knight and I work for MI6 in London.’ Steven took his wallet from his inside jacket pocket and slid out his identity card for Sergeant Allen to look at.

  ‘MI6? Why?’ stuttered Sergeant Allen, ‘What would you be doing here? Is this about Peter Crisp?’ He handed the card back to Steven.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t have clearance to tell you why I’m here; all I can say is that myself and my colleague are doing some field research in this area which we will need to continue doing for a few days and I need your total cooperation and discretion,’ Steven said in his most authoritative voice. ‘Who’s Peter Crisp?' he added.

  ‘He’s a local boy. Went missing last night,’ replied Sergeant Allen cautiously. ‘That could be him,’ he nodded towards the river and the hand that was now being carefully placed in a refrigerator box and packed with ice ready to be taken back to the Harrogate General Hospital for examination. ‘He was reported missing this morning and hasn’t been seen since. What do you mean by field research?’

  ‘I’m afraid I’m not allowed to say.’

  ‘You expect me to let you walk all over town without telling me what you are up to?' replied Sergeant Allen who clearly didn’t like the thought of MI6 in Parsley Bottom.

  ‘I expect you to cooperate with anything I ask, Sergeant Allen,’ Steven replied once again trying to appear confident and authoritative. ‘My superiors would be most unhappy to hear of any aggression or opposition from the local police force towards me and my field research.’

  Although Sergeant Allen remained silent, he held back his displeasure at being pushed around by government officials from London.

  The older man who had been examining the arm by the river walked up the bank towards Sergeant Allen. He was short with a full beard and spectacles that he seemed to prefer to peer over the top of rather than look through the len
s.

  ‘Mr Knight, this is Doctor Carter, the Home Office Pathologist from Harrogate,’ said Sergeant Allen introducing Steven to the older man, trying to appear cooperative.

  ‘If I could have a word please, Sergeant,’ asked the Pathologist, not wanting to talk in front of Steven.

  ‘You can speak in front of Mr Knight. What have you found?’

  ‘Very well. So far all we have is the left arm of a male, which is slightly swollen from being in the water but from the size of it I would say it looks too large to be the boy’s and more likely to be that of a man, possibly over 40 years old. No identifying marks or jewellery. Some patches of hair so I should be able to get some DNA samples from them. There is quite a bit of dirt packed under the fingernails, some of which are broken consistent with clawing at the ground.’

  ‘Is that all you’ve got?' asked Sergeant Allen.

  ‘At the moment, yes. Once I’ve examined it more closely I will be able to tell you more,’ there was a troubled look on the Pathologist's face. ‘Although, there is something strange. It looks like patches of the skin have been melted, almost like it’s been dissolved in acid. The flesh below the skin looks like it’s been eaten away but there are no teeth marks that I can see. Sometimes fish nibble away at flesh if it's been in the water long enough to make it soft. But this looks like it may have only been in the water for a day, if that.’

  Steven listened with great interest, remembering what Coldred had said about how the alien bacteria was acting in the same way as flesh-eating bacteria. This could be relevant to Stevens’s enquiries after all, especially as Sir Adam had said that they had already found traces of the bacteria in the river water.

  ‘What about the crime scene, have the Underwater Search Team found anything else?' asked Sergeant Allen.

  ‘Not yet. The divers are going along the river as well as both sides of the banks, but so far no sign of any other body parts. Because of the water current it’s likely that the arm was washed down river from somewhere further up and the wet shirt got tangled on the bullrushes.’

  ‘What do we have further upriver? The church, a few cottages and fields?' thought Sergeant Allen aloud.

  ‘It depends on how far upriver you go. There is the industrial area towards the outskirts of town, then farm lands and moors beyond that.’

  ‘Where is the arm being taken?' asked Steven interrupting the two men.

  Doctor Carter looked at Sergeant Allen for confirmation that he should answer, not knowing who Steven was or what authority he had to ask questions. Sergeant Allen frowned but reluctantly nodded his head for the Pathologist to answer.

  ‘It’s being taken to Harrogate General Hospital Mortuary where I will examine it more closely together with the Forensic Scientists. The Police station in Parsley Bottom is too small to handle things like this,’ replied Doctor Carter, still cautious about Steven and his reasons for being there.

  ‘I would like to see the report when it’s complete if that’s alright with you both. I will get my Commander to clear it at your headquarters in Harrogate. It could speed things up for you in identifying whose arm it is and may help you find that boy.’ Steven tried to sound like he was helping the Sergeant, but really he wanted to see the report himself.

  ‘So it may also be something to do with your field research then?’ asked Sergeant Allen sarcastically.

  ‘Possibly, but I’m not entirely sure,’ replied Steven.

  ‘I will leave the divers to keep looking around the scene whilst I go over to Harrogate with the arm. If they find anything else, please arrange to have it sent over to me immediately.’ Doctor Carter walked back towards the river and discussed something else with some of the divers, directing them to search in other parts of the river before walking off in the direction of the car park with the chilled evidence box being carried by one of the policemen.

  ‘Please can we go?' Georgia asked the Sergeant with a pleading look in her eyes.

  ‘I suppose so, but I will need the name of your Commanding officer as well as the address of where you are staying.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Steven replied with a smile on his face. He didn’t want to make an enemy of the local police force. ‘I’m staying at the Fox and Hound if you need me for anything else and don’t forget that I will need a copy of the Pathologist’s report when you have it.’

  Sergeant Allen picked up the metal detector and fabric bag containing the water samples and held them up for Steven to take, then escorted them towards the car park that was now overrun with police cars.

  ‘Are you alright?' Steven asked Georgia, knowing she was still shocked by her discovery. ‘I’ll drive you home if you want.’

  Georgia passed the keys to Steven who put the metal detector and the sample bag into the boot of the car. As he walked her round to the passenger door to open it for Georgia, he noticed that it appeared to be open slightly. For a few seconds he thought he hadn’t closed it properly when he had got out of the car, but when he saw the gap on the seat where he had put Mr McRae’s box of meteorites, he realised that the car had been broken into and the meteorites had been stolen.

  18. The Escape Tunnel

  Edgar led the children along the passageway, all the time listening to the sticky and wet sound that was coming from behind. Scarlet could feel the air inside the tunnel getting colder as it sloped down and away from the castle. Max wondered if Edgar knew where they were going and kept nervously looking over his shoulder to see if he could see what was following them, but every time he turned round he seemed to stumble. The paleness of his skin seemed to shine in the torchlight like the warm wax from a candle whilst the sound of his shaky and nervous breathing bounced loud and echoey in the enclosed tunnel.

  Edgar flashed the torch rapidly from side to side, looking for alternative tunnels to dodge down, but all he could see was damp stone of endless tunnel. He didn’t know when or where it would end, if it actually did, but all he could do was to keep running away from the sound behind them and try to lead the children to safety.

  Suddenly they found the tunnel was blocked as they all ran directly into another iron gate. The torch fell from Edgar’s hand and landed on the ground rolling forward beneath the gate and into the tunnel on the other side. As its beam of light spun round and round, it finally came to rest facing the ceiling above Edgar and the children. A light crumble of stone became dislodged from the wall the gate was bolted to and fell to their feet.

  The noise continued to come behind them and very soon it would be on top of them.

  ‘What do we do now!' shouted Scarlet panicking.

  ‘It’s like the other gate we got through,’ said Joe rapidly as he noticed the rusted metal hinges that had absorbed the moisture from the rock. ‘If we push it hard enough we should be able to get through.’ With that he sat on the ground and began kicking at the rusted hinges as hard as he could.

  The little light that shone in their direction, gave Edgar just enough visibility to be able to examine the lock. He took his penknife from his pocket and slid it into the keyhole of the lock, wiggling it around a little trying to release the catch.

  Nothing happened.

  Behind them the bubbling sound seemed to be getting louder.

  Max closed his eyes, not wanting to see what was coming towards them, whilst Joe continued to kick at the hinges, his head darting around as he kept glancing at Edgar’s progress as well.

  One of the hinges suddenly buckled under Joe’s persistence, the brown and crumbly rust of the hinge twisting and snapping. Spurred on by Joe’s success, Scarlet now joined him as he concentrated all effort on the second hinge.

  Edgar tried twisting the knife slightly inside the lock as if it was a key, but it stayed closed. Frantically he wriggled it some more until finally there was a click, but he quickly realised that the click had come from the blade of the knife which had snapped and was now wedged inside the lock. There was no way the lock was going to be opened now, even if he had the key. Edgar turned aw
ay from the lock and started to concentrate on the hinges fixed on the wall.

  ‘Joe! Edgar!’ shouted Max as he began to see the outline of a dark shape coming towards them from further down the tunnel.

  With one huge effort Edgar slammed his shoulder into the gate forcing the remaining screws to fall to the floor and the gate to spring back against the wall on the other side of the tunnel.

  They all desperately scrambled through just as the dark shape emerged into the beam of torchlight that reflected off the tunnel walls.

  Edgar leapt for the gate and pushed it back into position then forced his broken pen knife through one of the empty screw holes and into the stone wall with the heel of his hand until it was wedged stuck.

  As soon as he withdrew his hand a blackened shapeless body slammed into the gate with a wet gurgling noise. The penknife stayed in position holding the gate and preventing the creature from getting through. In the limited light they could make out a single cloudy white eye reflecting the limited light and staring back at them all through the iron bars. The creature let out a loud gurgling sound which sounded like air being forced through a wet tube.

  Scarlet screamed, startled by the noise. She shuffled backwards on the floor trying to get as far away from the creature as possible.

  Despite feeling scared, curiosity caused them all to remain sat on the floor on the other side of the gate staring at the unknown creature, amazed at what it actually was, but also feeling safer knowing there was a gate between them and it. It was a bit like looking at an animal in a zoo.

  ‘We need to keep moving, the penknife won’t hold it for long,’ said Edgar as he brushed the dirt from his trousers and retrieved the torch from the floor. He then started walking away from the gate.

  ‘What is it?' asked Max as he gulped in air to help calm him down. There was even a little bit of colour coming back to his face.

  ‘I don’t know what it’s called,’ answered Edgar, ‘but I think creatures similar to this were in the graveyard the night Peter stayed there. Now come on, we need to get out of here.’ Edgar continued to encourage the children to leave, but they seemed transfixed by the creature.

  ‘Look at the slime its releasing,’ said Joe, ’It’s like the slimy trail on the floor inside the church.’

  Max took a step forward to take a better look at the black creature.

  ‘Don’t get too close,’ shouted Edgar urgently to Max and pulled him backwards towards the rest of them.

  ‘I’ve never seen anything like it before,’ said Max. ‘Is this a creature from the Unseen world?’

  ‘No. Let’s get out of here.’

  ‘Maybe it’s from the moon?' said Max jokingly. ‘The eye certainly looks like a moon.’

  Whilst they had been talking, the creature had done nothing but stare back at them. The long thin arms of the creature had extended from its body and the claw like fingers wrapped themselves around the bars of the gate. There were two extra long skeleton fingers at the end of each bony arm covered by a thin black skin stretched tight to the horny hook at the end. The creature poked a finger through the bars testing to see if it could reach any of the children, but all it did was claw at thin air.

  ‘What’s that smell?' asked Joe, raising his hand to shield his mouth.

  Edgar noticed it at the same time and automatically covered his mouth and nose with the fabric of his jacket. There was now a sharp harsh smell in the tunnel that made the back of their throats sting. There was also a brown coloured smoke starting to appear around the creature where it pressed itself up against the gate.

  ‘It’s acid!’ said Edgar. ‘Come on, we have to keep moving. If the tunnel fills up with this gas it could kill us. This creature must be using acid to get through the gate. Come on, hurry!’

  Panic set in once again and the children began running along the passageway trying to get as far away from the creature as possible.

  The darkness swallowed them up once again as they headed into an unknown tunnel not knowing what would be front of them, but at least they now knew what it was that was following them. After several minutes of running in silence Edgar noticed that there was no sound of anything following them, so he slowed down to a quick walk, allowing the children chance to rest slightly.

  ‘Where does this tunnel go?' Max asked the question everyone was thinking.

  ‘I’m not entirely sure, but we’ve been moving constantly down hill and away from the castle. This could be one of the escape routes built into the castle rock in case it came under siege. Remember we went through that junction where three tunnels came together? Above it was the Royal Palace. Royalty could leave the castle undetected via underground passages. If this is one of them, it could lead to somewhere outside and below the castle’

  Behind them a loud clang of metal echoed again and again off the sides of the tunnel walls. They all froze to the spot, realising that the creature had managed to get through the gate and was now inside the tunnel with them.

  They started to run again.

  Suddenly the passage came to a dead end. They were faced with a solid wall of stone with nowhere to go except back the way they had just come and straight into the path of the creature. Edgar frantically swung the torch light around them trying to find an exit, but they were trapped.

  ‘There!’ shouted Scarlet who had noticed that there no longer appeared to be a ceiling above their heads, ‘we need to go upwards.’ Edgar shone the light into a narrow tunnel that went upwards and into dark preventing them seeing to the top. There was a metal ladder fixed to one side of the tunnel. It was their only option.

  ‘We have to climb,’ Edgar said as he picked up Scarlet so that she could reach the bottom rung of the ladder, ‘and we have to climb quickly. Go!’

  As soon as one of the children had gone up several rungs of the ladder Edgar lifted another to start immediately after until there was just himself left in the tunnel alone. Once again he became aware of the damp bubbling sound in the tunnel getting closer and closer to him. The last of the children had cleared the bottom of the ladder so Edgar put the torch in between his teeth and put his hands on the bottom bar of the ladder and lifted himself up. He started to climb as quickly as he could and soon came to the feet of Max who was directly in front of him.

  ‘Come on, keep moving as fast as you can,’ Edgar said encouraging them on. He swung the torch up to shine above where the Scarlet was climbing at the front of the line. Above her, Edgar could see where the ladder finished and it looked like there was night sky above them.

  ‘Keep going. Look above you. This takes us outside. I know your arms are probably hurting but we’re almost there.’

  He swung the torch back down beneath his feet and saw that the creature had now arrived at the dead end of the passageway. It looked up at the torch light then something very peculiar happened. It spread its arms out and a thin flap of skin unfolded from beneath its armpits like fine wings. It flapped hard pushing air beneath its body in swirls of dust, allowing it to rise off the ground.

  ‘It’s got wings!’ said Edgar in surprise. He watched as the creature tried to fly up the tunnel, but it was too narrow, its wings kept hitting the side of the tunnel and causing it to slip back down. At one attempt, though, as it fell backwards it managed to hook one long finger onto a rung of the ladder and hold on. Now it began pulling its body up the tunnel at an alarming speed.

  Scarlet had now reached the top. She pushed her shoulder against a grate that covered the hole and lifted her weary body out onto wet grass. Joe followed closely behind her and they both sat there panting for breath as the head of Max also appeared above the hole.

  Edgar’s progress was delayed as he waited for the children to get out of the hole before him, but the creature had rapidly gained on them. Edgar shone the light back down the tunnel to see how far away the creature was and he realised that it had reached a part of the ladder that was only two rungs below his feet. He saw a thin clawed hand begin to reach up for his foot bu
t as the light from the torch shone directly into its eye it seemed to retract back and almost squint in an attempt to shield its eye from the bright light. Edgar didn’t need to wait for a better opportunity than this; he pulled one foot off a rung of the ladder and slammed it into the head area of the creature which then fell backwards down the tunnel.

  Above him he noticed that Max had now managed to pull himself out of the tunnel allowing Edgar freedom to climb the rest of the ladder and lift his body out onto the grass beside the children. Never before had it felt so good to be lying on wet grass under a cold starry sky beneath the castle wall.

  ‘Where are we now?' asked Joe.

  ‘It looks like we have come up through the Castle Rock and this is probably Princess Street Gardens,’ answered Edgar.

  ‘There’s no moon tonight,’ said Scarlet as she stared up at the sky.

  ‘Maybe that creature’s eye really is the moon,’ replied Max who lay beside Scarlet staring up into space, ‘maybe it stole it from the sky. We could call it a Moon Stealer.’

  The smile on his face soon turned to horror as a thin fingered hand reached up out of the tunnel hole and gripped Max around his ankle like a spider's legs contracting together. He was pulled with amazing strength towards the hole, despite Max clawing and grabbing at the slippery grass with his hands.

  Suddenly there was a flash of brilliant white light that sliced through the air and separated the creatures arm from its body. Holding his sword firmly in both hands Edgar then leapt to the tunnel entrance and thrust it deep into the tunnel and into the eye of the Moon Stealer.

  ‘Quick, take off your trousers,’ shouted Edgar to Max. Coloured acidic smoke had begun to drift from where the creature’s hand remained frozen around Max’s ankle.

  Max seemed to be in shock and continued to stare at the creature’s black skeletal hand that was still attached to him. Joe pulled at Max’s shoes, prizing them from his feet then began rolling his trousers down. Using the fabric of the trousers to protect his hands he began prizing the creature’s fingers apart whilst pulling at the trousers at the same time. Eventually it became looser and Max’s ankle was free.

  Edgar examined Max’s ankle. Apart from the red marks where the fingers had been digging into his flesh, the material from his trousers appeared to have protected his skin from the acidic touch of the creature.

  19. A Restless Knight

  Max couldn’t sleep much that night. The ankle that had been gripped by the creature was irritable even though the red finger marks had already begun to fade. He was grateful to Joe and Scarlet for getting the creature’s hand off him, before it had caused any further damage, remembering how it had started to dissolve the metal gate with the acid it seemed to ooze. Although the skin was itchy, there was an odd numbness in the area too. Scarlet had found some Dock leaves in Princess Street Gardens to help soothe the inflammation, like she had done as a child whenever she had been stung by nettles. Later, Edgar had bought some Chamomile cream and rubbed it onto Max’s ankle. The itchiness slowly began to ease and Max had fallen into a deep sleep.

  After their encounter with the creature, Edgar had given Max his coat as it hung longer than his own so that it covered his bare legs. He then found an available room in the top floor of an old pub, consisting of no carpet, several mattresses on the floor and a single cream coloured wax candle for light. It hadn’t cost much and the landlord didn’t ask any questions about Max being slightly unclothed. The weather had got progressively worse. Heavy raindrops fell onto the roof drumming a constant rhythm while deep rumbles of thunder grumbled in the sky above like the scrape of heavy furniture moving across a wooden floor. Edgar had become quite protective of the children and sat watching them as they turned peacefully beneath their blankets. Part of him regretted bringing them with him on this quest, not truly knowing the dangers it would put them in. But, for all he knew, the dangers were no different to those Peter had found in Parsley Bottom. Certainly the slimy trail in the church and around Peter’s blanket seemed similar to what they had seen from the creature in the tunnel.

  Edgar had taken the opportunity to try and make some sense of Hadwyn’s riddle by collecting as many of the tourist information leaflets from the entrance to the pub as he could carry. As he spread the leaflets out on the floor he continuously cross-checked what he was reading with the riddle Scarlet had written in his note book. Lying on the floor next to him was Ethera, the magical sword given to him by Nimue, The Priestess of Avalon. The indestructible white blade had earlier saved Max from the creature the children had nicknamed a Moon Stealer. As he knelt on the hard floor the candle light flickered in the draft that came up through the gaps between the floorboards and reflected sparkling dots of light like dancing glitter from the diamond dust imbedded in the metal blade.

  The first leaflet that Edgar had started reading immediately caught his eye. It had the bold heading of “Arthur’s Seat” written on the front and told the history of a group of hills to the east of Edinburgh. It mentioned in the leaflet that Arthur’s Seat was thought to be one of the locations of King Arthur’s castle, Camelot; however, Edgar knew from his own experience that this was not true. Reading the leaflet further he came across an old Scottish name for the hill. They had called it “Àrd-na-Said,” which they translated as meaning “Height of Arrows.” Looking back at Hadwyn’s riddle he re-read the beginning:

  ‘Where flights of arrows come down from a height’

  There were similarities between the Scottish name for Arthur’s Seat and the wording of the first line in the riddle. Because the height at the top of Arthur’s Seat was over 250 meters tall anything below that could be classed as ‘down’ from there. Edinburgh was the most obvious place the line was referring to so the Silver Bough could be hidden somewhere in the city. He read the second line:

  ‘And Stevenson’s treasure is hidden from sight.’

  Edgar wondered what this could mean. They weren’t looking for Stevenson’s treasure. The Silver Bough had orginally belonged to a wise Druid called Arawyn Claremont so why, wondered Edgar, would his brother refer to someone else’s treasure. He decided that the name Stevenson must have more relevance than it first appeared.

  Although it was getting late, Edgar stayed up as long as his eyes would let him. He scanned through the remaining leaflets trying to understand more about the history and architechture of Edinburgh but in the end he couldn’t stop giving in to the tiredness that fell over him like a heavy blanket. He dreamt of the white eye staring out at him through a dark swirling mist, like black ink dispersing in water, before the eye consumed Edgar in a bright blinding light. The next thing he knew he was standing on the edge of a high rocky cliff, the wind whipping around and blowing his white hair, which appeared slightly longer than it was now, causing it to stick to the sweat on his face. Suddenly there was an empty weightless feeling like he was flying, but he was falling down along the cliff edge, the black stone passing quickly in a blur before he closed his eyes and waited to hit the bottom of the mountain. Then there was total darkness.

  He awoke curled up like a baby on the hard floor, the leaflets all around him and despite the continuing damp weather, there was now daylight in the room.

  Joe and Scarlet were standing beside Edgar and hadn’t noticed that he had woken. They were holding Ethera, Edgar’s sword, and looking closely at the markings along the blade.

  ‘Be careful with that,’ murmured Edgar from the floor.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Joe guiltily before placing it carefully back on the floor next to Edgar. The Knight walked over to the mattress that Max was still sleeping in and pulled the blanket back so that he could look at his ankle. Not wishing to wake him he gently examined it; a lot of the redness had dissappeared and there didn’t appear to be any permanent damage.

  ‘Did you stay up last night trying to solve Hadwyn’s riddle?' asked Scarlet looking at the spread of leaflets on the floor and the pool of wax from the burnt out candle.

  ‘Yes, but I
didn’t get far,’ he replied rubbing his eyes. ‘All I worked out was that the Silver Bough is probably in Edinburgh. The hills above Edinburgh are often called Arthur’s Seat or Àrd-na-Said as they say in Scotland, which also means Height of Arrows. But I don’t understand the bit about Stevenson's treasure.’

  ‘What about this third line, Amongst the thistles and under the crown?' asked Joe who was reading over Hadwyn’s riddle. ‘The crown could refer to royalty. Does Scotland have a royal family?’

  ‘Not any more. The Queen is the head of royalty for all of the British Isles, including Scotland,’ explained Scarlet.

  ‘I found a leaflet about Holyroodhouse Palace,’ said Edgar as he started shuffling the papers in front of him trying to find the right one. ‘The Queen stays at the palace when she visits. It’s at the opposite end of the Royal Mile to the castle. Maybe our next clue is there?’

  Joe had now picked up some leaflets and was starting to read them.

  ‘Listen to this,’ Joe interupted as he read from the leaflet in his hands. ‘The High Kirk of Edinburgh with its famous crown spire stands on the Royal Mile between Edinburgh Castle and Holyroodhouse Palace. It contains the Chapel of the Order of the Thistle; Scotland’s company of knights.’

  At this point they all turned round to see Max sitting up on his mattress rubbing his ankle.

  ‘I feel so tired,’ he said dreamily. ‘What’s the Order of the Thistle?’

  ‘As far as I know,’ replied Edgar, ‘the order is made up of the English Queen and sixteen Scottish Knights and Ladies. They are represented by the Thistle, the national flower of Scotland.’

  ‘So it’s a bit like King Arthur and his Knights?’

  ‘In a way,’ nodded Edgar.

  ‘So the crown could refer to the spire above the chapel of the Order of the Thistle,’ Scarlet said excitedly. ‘It fits. Where’s the High Kirk of Edinburgh?' she asked Joe who turned the leaflet over and read the title printed on the front cover.

  ‘St Giles’ Cathedral. It looks like its near to the train station we came in to yesterday.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Edgar with renewed energy, throwing Max his coat to cover him once again. ‘Let's get some breakfast, then we’re off to the Cathedral.

  ‘Can I get some trousers first?' pleaded Max.

  20. The Pathology Report

  Steven and Georgia sat together at a wooden table inside The Fox and Hound tucking into bacon and eggs.

  Yesterday, after discovering that the box of meteorites was missing, Steven had driven them back to the pub. Georgia was still feeling shaken and had said that she hadn’t wanted to be left on her own, so she stayed in Steven’s room. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she had gone straight to sleep leaving Steven sitting quietly at his desk writing down some notes about his first day in Parsley Bottom. He then accessed the secure MI6 internet site via the many coded log in pages and drafted an email to Sir Adam. He mentioned Mr McRae’s box of Meteorites that had been stolen, concluding that there was no reason to suspect anything more than an opportunistic car thief. He also wrote about the other meteorites that they had found in the woodland which were now safely stored inside his room as well as including Doctor Carter’s concerns over the apparent appearance of acid burns on the flesh of the arm in the river. He concluded by highlighting the similarities between what he had heard from Doctor Carter to what had been said in the meeting about the flesh-eating bacteria. Steven suggested that Sir Adam contact Harrogate Mortuary to get the Pathology report done as soon as possible. He then clicked send and decided to catch up on some sleep, so made up a bed on the settee with some extra pillows and sheets he found in the wardrobe.

  This morning his back was stiff and achy after spending seven hours lying down with his feet propped up on the arm of the settee, but eating the breakfast was starting to make him feel better, especially as it was washed down with strong black coffee. Georgia also seemed to be feeling better and was already eating her second helping of bacon which she had placed inside a soft bread roll together with a splash of tomato sauce.

  ‘Morning, Sergeant Allen,’ said the landlord who doubled up as a waiter this morning. He was talking to the tall and now familiar figure of the Police Officer as he walked into the pub with a brown cardboard folder tucked beneath his arm.

  ‘Coffee please, Graham,’ he replied as he pulled a chair up to Steven’s table. ‘Do you mind if I join you?' he politely asked Georgia, who shook her head.

  ‘Mr Knight, you obviously know some very well connected people. I had a phone call from Doctor Carter last night; unknowingly he had been assigned two other pathologists to assist him with the examination. By all accounts they had been sent from London, colleagues of yours, I would presume.’

  He paused, waiting for Steven to respond, but as he didn’t know anything about what Sir Adam had organised he continued to eat his breakfast.

  Sergeant Allen held out the folder for Steven to take. ‘Obviously it’s not complete yet. We are still searching the river but this report will give you a lot more information about the arm we found yesterday. We’ve also identified who it belongs to: Bob King, an unmarried security guard who does the night-shift at the Paper factory further up river from where the arm was found. He failed to arrive for work last night and there are signs of a struggle next to the river edge at the back of the factory.’

  Georgia was quiet again, but at least this time she wasn’t shaking.

  Steven opened the report and started to skim through it to the area he was interested in while Sergeant Allen sipped his coffee.

  “Outer skin swabbed, paying particular attention to the areas underneath the folds of the skin on the palm of the hand which appear to hold an as yet unidentified substance. Clothing fabric was removed and taken for further analysis. Sections of the skin appear to have been melted away, more where the fabric from the shirt-sleeve had not been protecting it. The edge of each hole was raised and uneven. No obvious sign of bites or teeth-marks. General pH tests indicate an overly acidic nature to each wound. Overall skin colour is pale with patches of brown discolouration. Skin slightly swollen. Inside each wound the layers of skin had been dissolved away to expose the muscles beneath, some of which, from the pitted appearance, have also begun to dissolve. Wounds all at varying depths. Muscles are in a state of early decomposition which appears to be too quick for the approximate length of time the arm had been in the water. Apart from water, the wounds ooze a smelly, yellow liquid. Bone exposed on two knuckles, also degrading.”

  ‘How long before the results of the samples come back?' asked Steven who was wondering if Mr King’s body had become infected by the alien bacteria whilst in the water, or more worryingly before it even entered the water.

  ‘It could be a week if we’re lucky. It depends on what they’re looking for. Maybe you should ask your colleagues. All samples that had been collected, together with the arm itself, have been commandeered by MI6 and taken away.’

  ‘Have you found the rest of Mr King’s body?’

  ‘Not yet. We did find his wristwatch in the river near the factory and several torn bits of clothing have turned up at various places further downstream. We were able to identify them from the name badge attached to one of them.’

  As Steven and Sergeant Allen were talking, Georgia noticed that the landlord was pointing in their direction; he seemed to be telling a man that stood next to him who they were. The man was elderly and short with a balding head and he wore an old knitted jumper with threads and holes in various places. He walked towards the table and stood slightly away from them, almost not wanting to be impolite and disturb their conversation.

  Steven became aware of the man standing there, as did Sergeant Allen who stopped talking and turned in his direction.

  ‘Morning, everyone,’ he said to the three of them. 'Sorry to interrupt your breakfast,’ he apologised to Georgia in his gentle Scottish accent as she bit into her bacon roll.

  Steven stood politely as he recognis
ed who the man was.

  ‘Mr McRae, how nice to see you again,’ he said.

  ‘Mr Knight, glad you are still here. I don’t know if I’m doing right by coming to you or not, but I thought you may want to see something else that I found.’

  ‘More meteorites?' asked Steven excitedly, thinking that he could replace the ones that had been stolen, before looking nervously at Sergeant Allen, knowing that he had given away some information about the investigation he was undertaking, but his full attention seemed to be on Mr McRae and the black bin liner that was hanging by his side. From the way it hung, it was obviously heavy.

  ‘No. Not meteorites, something else. It might be better if we go outside so that I can show you.’

  Curiosity got the better of them all as they filed out behind Mr McRae and stood on the grass in front of the pub. He placed the black sack on the ground and picked at the knot. They all crowded around the bag silently waiting for the knot to untangle and the contents to be revealed. Once the bag was untied, he pulled the side of the bag up and something slid out onto the grass.

  There was an overpowering smell of decay and compost from what appeared to be a pile of cut grass and brown leaves in front of them. But there was more to it than just a loose pile of garden cuttings. Whatever Mr McRae was showing them was solid and had form and shape beneath.

  ‘What is it?' asked Sergeant Allen disappointedly.

  ‘I was turning my compost last night and I found that,’ he pointed at the mess on the grass. ‘I didn’t know it was there until it was too late and I saw one of the prongs on my garden fork sticking through it. It’s some sort of animal I think.’

  Steven knelt down and was now taking a good look at Mr McRae’s deposit. ‘Have we got any gloves in the field kit?' he asked Georgia who nodded and walked across the grass to the car, opened the boot and took a pair of latex examination gloves from the fabric bag she had been using in the woodland yesterday.

  Steven slipped them onto his hands and started to remove grass and leaves from whatever was in front of him. It felt firm and cold under his hand and he was slowly revealing what looked like a blackened skin. He started to smooth some of the skin out and untangle the mass. As he lifted one of the blackened flaps of skin Steven suddenly jumped backwards with a sharp intake of breath.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Georgia who couldn’t see what Steven was looking at.

  ‘It,’ he stuttered. His breathing was shaky, ‘It… it looks like an eye.’

  ‘What do you mean?' said Sergeant Allen as he too crouched down next to Steven.

  ‘It looks like whatever this is has an eye,’ Steven replied, ‘and only one.’

  He reached forward once again and lifted the flap of skin to reveal a single round milky white eye which was about the size of a golf ball with no central pupil.

  Georgia cupped her hand to her mouth as she let out a small gasp.

  21. St Giles’ Cathedral

  After they packed up their belongings, Edgar and the children left their attic room and made their way back into the centre of Edinburgh and down the Royal Mile until they came to the front of St Giles’ Cathedral. Although the rain had stopped, there was darkness in the sky that continued to cast a depressing blanket over everything. They approached the Cathedral from the direction of the Castle and could see the crown spire standing proud above the Cathedral building that was mentioned in the leaflet Max had read that morning. They passed a tall green stained metallic statue and walked up the stone steps to the west entrance. There were two ornate doors, one to let visitors in, the other to let them out, both were dwarfed by the grand archway decorated with numerous stone carved gargoyles projecting their heads out from the ledge above the entrance ready to drain water from where it collected in the dips in the roof.

  Edgar paid their entrance fees and they entered the Cathedral in single file. Max appeared to be more nervous than usual after his close encounter with the Moon Stealer the previous night. As they walked into the enormous space of the Cathedral, they were immediately dwarfed by the stone columns that stretched high towards the ceiling before dividing into complicated finger like arches that reaching over to touch other pillars. Long thin colourful fabric banners hung down from each column, golden winged angels were embroidered into the fabric and seemed to trumpet their arrival. Whilst above them smaller flags stitched with crosses and crowns, horse heads and stars, hung lifelessly from the roof. At the far end was a large blue stained glass window that towered higher over them as they made their way further into the Cathedral. They had not agreed on a plan about what they were going to do once they had arrived at the Cathedral, but they all seemed to naturally move towards the stained glass window, with their heads all looking upwards not knowing what their feet were treading on.

  'What are we looking for?' whispered Max to Edgar, scared to break the peacefulness inside the Cathedral, but desperate to ask the obvious question.

  'I’m not sure. Maybe we should start in the Thistle Chapel as it’s mentioned in the riddle,' replied Edgar who had noticed a sign pointing them in the direction of a small chamber.

  Edgar strolled off to his right and the children automatically followed. Through another stone archway they entered a much smaller room. Along both sides were wooden seats, carved animals making up the arm rests with highly detailed canopies that looked like crowns stretching upwards above each seat. On the backrest was the coat of arms of the Knight that the seat belonged to, like a name badge. On the ceiling the stone work was so fine that it almost appeared to be made from a fragile veil of lace that hung from the walls. The grey stone detail seemed to be alive with thistles in bloom and gold painted angels holding shields.

  Once again, all they could do was look in amazement at the carvings of animals and the ornate paintings on some of the wooden panels. Edgar went over to the first chair and started looking at each coat of arms. Some had more shields on than others, but there were none that he recognised. Thick wooden carvings projected from the sides of the room and towered above where the Knights' heads would have been. On top of each of these was a carved painted animal. At the far end was a separate seat on which was the British royal coat of arms.

  'This must be where the King or Queen of England would sit,' Joe indicated to the large chair at the far end which was more prominent than any of the others.

  'Do you see anything to do with Hadwyn in here?' asked Max.

  'No. I don’t even recognise any of the coats of arms that are on the chairs,' Edgar replied with a sad shake of his head.

  Scarlet had been silent up till now. She had been thinking hard about the meaning of the words in the riddle. 'The Thistle is only referred to in the third line of the riddle,' she said. 'What about the second line, And Stevenson's treasure is hidden from sight, maybe that’s the clue that we should be looking for?'

  'But who is Stevenson?' asked Joe.

  'I’ve been thinking about that and I have an idea. At school last year we had to do a project for English Literature about a famous author. My dad used to read Treasure Island to me when I was younger, so I chose its author for my project. His name was Robert Louis Stevenson and he’s a Scotsman. What if the line in the riddle refers to Treasure Island, so Stevenson’s treasure would be a book?'

  ‘But Sir Hadwyn was a medieval knight, so wouldn’t have known about Robert Louis Stevenson,’ said Max.

  ‘Edgar said he only died last year. If he wrote the riddle more recently, he would know about Stevenson.’

  'But the third line said Amongst the thistles and under the crown. In this room we are amongst the thistles and we know we are under the crown as the spire on top of this Cathedral is known as the crown spire, so shouldn’t it be in this room?'

  'Maybe, but there’s also another way of looking at it. Did you see the banners and flags in the main area of the Cathedral?' continued Scarlet.

  'Yes,' replied Joe.

  'Well they all have coats of arms on just like these seats so they must also rep
resent the 16 knights of the Order of the Thistle. Amongst the Thistles could simply mean anywhere inside the Cathedral, not just in the Thistle Chapel.'

  'So we're now looking for a book anywhere inside the Cathedral, probably by Robert Louis Stevenson?' Max said starting to feel like the task had become even harder than it had originally seemed.

  'It makes sense, Max,' said Edgar reassuring him. 'What have we got to lose?'

  They all followed Edgar out of the Chapel and back into the main section of the building.

  'Let’s split up and look in different sections of the building.' Edgar coordinated everyone into different aisles and chapels within every corner of the Cathedral.

  Joe went off towards the north side of the Cathedral to a section called Chambers Aisle. In front of him was a wooden panel between two columns of stone. Beyond it was a black and white tiled floor, a wall panel and two more stained glass windows. Joe couldn’t see any books in this small separate section and there were no obvious connections to King Arthur or any Knights. He casually walked out, hands in his pockets feeling quite disappointed, but then happened to glance to the side where the Cathedral shop was. He walked up to a display stand of postcards and picked one of them out, paid for it then went back to the centre of the Cathedral to meet back up with the others.

  Edgar had been walking up and down the centre of the Cathedral from the entrance to the large stained glass window at the east end examining every pillar and stone sculpture there was. Joe stopped him.

  'I’ve found this,' he said showing Edgar the postcard he had found. Edgar looked at the picture on the front of the card then turned it over and read the description of the image on the back. By now Scarlet and Max had also made their way back to join the other two.

  'Robert Louis Stevenson Memorial Panel, St Giles Cathedral Edinburgh,’ read Edgar from the postcard, ‘Scottish novelist and poet best known for works including Treasure Island, Kidnapped and Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.' He paused, ‘Scarlet, you are a genius,’ he said with a smile on his face.

  'This must be what we're looking for!' said Scarlet in a restrained, but excited voice.

  Edgar took the postcard over to one of the cathedral guides who was sitting at the entrance. The children could see the man pointing over to an area to their left. Edgar came back over to them.

  'Apparently there’s a large bronze panel on the wall close to the ground,' he said as he walked over to the south side of the building. 'Look down there. The trusted and pure with head bowed down. Bowing your head not only refers to the religious meaning inside the Cathedral, but he also wanted us to make sure we were looking down rather than up, as we have been doing ever since we came in here.'

  They all stood staring down at the panel. The large brown waxy bronze plaque showed Stevenson sitting on a couch with a large blanket draped over his legs. In one hand was a pen, obviously ready to write, whilst the other supported sheets of paper upon his knee.

  Scarlet knelt down on the cold stone floor and looked closely at the panel.

  ‘There looks like there are some small words engraved on the edge of the paper,' she said. ‘It looks like it says Pan’s Pipes.’

  ‘What are Pan’s Pipes?' asked Max.

  'I recognise the title,’ said Scarlet thinking back to her project, ‘I think it was a poem he wrote.’

  ‘Didn’t the second paragraph of Hadwyn’s riddle mention a piper,' said Joe.

  'You're right,' said Edgar as he thought about the riddle. 'Below the bridge, a piper alone. It seems like we are on the right path, but where do we go from here?'

  22. Edgar tells the Truth

  They left the Cathedral under a damp fog which clung to their clothes making them cold and heavy. None of them had worked out where they were going to next on Hadwyn’s trail so they decided to take a break inside a small coffee shop. They picked a table in the window and watched people walking past, their heads bowed down against the weather. Although they felt confident that they had unravelled some of the riddle, it didn’t seem to point them in any clear direction. Edgar seemed to be deep in thought; he hadn’t said much since they had discovered the panel inside the Cathedral.

  ‘Why did Hadwyn leave a riddle anyway?' asked Max.

  ‘To protect the Silver Bough of course,’ replied Edgar. ‘He couldn’t just leave it somewhere obvious, otherwise anyone could find it and if they knew its true power they could open up many gateways between the Worlds of Men and Faeries without any sort of protection. This world has lost all sense of magic and would be powerless to stop the Faerie Queen from causing chaos and ruling both worlds.’

  Edgar placed his notebook on the table and they all re-read the second part of the riddle:

  Below the bridge, a piper alone,

  The bard’s sweet song turns water to stone.

  From one true touch the stone will part,

  And only be used by the brave at heart.

  ‘What I don’t understand is this Pan’s Pipes clue,’ said Max whose ankle seemed to be feeling a lot better. ‘Are we looking for a musical pipe or the Silver Bough?’

  ‘We found Stevenson’s panel which mentioned the poem that he had also written, so maybe we need to be looking for that book next,’ Scarlet said trying to keep their conversation positive.

  ‘So why don’t we get a copy of Pan’s Pipes then and see what it says?’

  ‘It’s not that straight forward. Pan’s Pipes is a poem and they are often published within a collection of other poems and I don’t know what that book is called.’

  ‘We could always find a book shop and ask. They may know which book it is included in,’ interrupted Joe.

  There was a small gap in the conversation whilst they all took a sip of their coffee.

  ‘Do you think we should get home and warn everyone about the Moon Stealers?' said Max. ‘If the creature we met in the tunnel under the castle has some brothers and sisters in Parsley Bottom, our families could be in danger.’

  Edgar looked up from his cup, ‘we are all in danger from them.' He seemed to look uncomfortable. 'I haven’t been totally honest with you all.’ He paused while the children stared at him waiting for him to continue.

  ‘We do need the Silver Bough to enter the unseen world to find Peter. But we also need it for another reason. Back in my time, a mighty and powerful Astronomer called Putarin made a prophecy about the future. King Arthur trusted Putarin as he had demonstrated his skills on many occasions in advising Arthur on when the crops needed gathering before devastating floods or dry seasons ruined them. There was another time when a Knight from a neighbouring Kingdom called Sir Maughter de’Glise approached Camelot with a message from his King asking for friendship in exchange for the hand of one of the Princesses of the court. Arthur always wanted to bring peace to England so he took Sir Glise’s offer and a lavish wedding was arranged. The whole of Camelot prepared for the wedding, gloriously coloured banners hung from all of the buildings, food was ordered from every corner of the Kingdom and dancers and singers where recruited to perform at the ceremony. However, the night before the wedding Putarin had studied the stars to see if the marriage was to be a successful one, but instead saw something much more important. He went to Arthur immediately and told him that King Seanal intended to poison Arthur and his Knights so that they could take over Camelot. On the day of the wedding King Seanal arrived at Camelot to a fanfare of trumpets accompanied by twelve of his bravest and most splendid Knights riding on horseback. He also brought with him a gift for Arthur of six wooden crates filled with many rare bottles of wines from his travels overseas. Arthur and his Knights kept a wary eye on their guests while his servants swapped the wine for bottles of Camelot’s own. After the ceremony and in the Great Hall the feasting and celebrations began. Unknown to them King Seanal and his Knights were served the wine that they had brought with them whilst Arthur was not. The poison in the wine only took a few minutes to work and Camelot was spared an invasion. King Seanal’s army waited aro
und the outside of Camelot’s walls for the signal to attack from their King that never came. Putarin had saved Arthur’s life and Camelot’s future. His words and prophecies were forever trusted and treated as law.’

  The children had been quiet listening to Edgar’s story.

  ‘But what’s that got to do with the Silver Bough?' asked Joe.

  ‘The prophecy that Putarin made concerns the future of England and the joining of the Realms of Men and the Faerie World. Although Arthur found it hard to believe that these two worlds could ever come together again, the Prophecy was kept safely recorded due to the high regard Arthur held him in. The prophecy said that the two worlds may only come back together when England was in its greatest need. I believe that that time is now and using the Silver Bough is the only way to bring the worlds together.’

  ‘But why is England in such great need?' asked Scarlet.

  ‘The slime inside the church at Parsley Bottom could be similar to what we saw coming from that creature in the tunnel beneath the castle. If that’s the case, then we know there are more creatures out there and they could pose a huge threat not only to England, but to the whole planet. Two months ago there was a small meteor storm in the sky above Parsley Bottom. It doesn’t take a scientist to be able to link the two things. It’s possible that the meteorites have something to do with these strange creatures appearing across the country.’

  ‘I remember hearing about that on the radio,’ said Scarlet.

  ‘So you think we have aliens running around Parsley Bottom?' said Max. The more he thought about the Moon Stealer that had grabbed him last night, the more he realised that it could be true.

  ‘I’m afraid so, Max. You see, it’s not only important that we find the Silver Bough so that we can rescue Peter, whose life is just as important as yours, but we also need it to save the Earth from a darkness that is probably already infecting England.’

  ‘What exactly is the Silver Bough?' Scarlet asked Edgar.

  ‘The Silver Bough is a magical item that was created many years ago by a Druid called Arawyn Claremont. He cut a branch from an Elm tree that stood in his garden and carved it into a curved flute shape with several slits for wind to be blown through and a series of finger holes to change the note. Arawyn performed strong magic upon it that he had learnt from the Ancients. To most people the bough would look like nothing more than a plain and dull wooden flute, but when held by the right hands it would turn to silver and play the most magical music. The music would enchant and possess certain animals as well as provide Arawyn his entrance into the Faerie World.’

  ‘So are we looking for a wooden flute or a silver one?' Scarlet asked.

  ‘It’s not likely to be silver. It only changes to silver when it is held by the right person. It chooses its master, usually someone with some inherent magic. It may not even be made of wood. If you think back to Hadwyn’s riddle, there is mention of stone in two of the lines; “The bard’s sweet song turns water to stone, from one true touch the stone will part.” I think it may be in the form of stone, to keep it hidden and protected.’

  Edgar looked down at the brown swirls of coffee that had mixed with the white creamy top in his cup as if trying to read into the future. ‘I’m not going to lie to you, the journey ahead will be dangerous,’ he began, ‘but I believe that this is the right path for me to take, if only to help Peter. I will continue on that path with or without you all. With your help I know we can find the Silver Bough, but after that I will ask nothing more from you. I will take you back to Parsley Bottom and you can finish your spring break and return to school as normal, if that is what you wish. I will continue through into the Faerie World to find Peter, alone if necessary.’

  There was an uncomfortable silence.

  ‘Are you kidding?' said Joe. ‘There’s no way I’m going to sit at home waiting to go back to school when I could help you find Peter. And if the Moon Stealers are as big a threat as you think, I want to do my bit to stop them. Certainly beats fraction and spelling homework.’

  'Thank you, Joe,’ said Edgar as he looked up over his coffee cup towards Joe with a mixture of sadness and pride in his eyes, ‘I know that you have an important part to play in this journey too.'

  'Well, you don’t think I'm going to miss out on all of the fun do you?' said Scarlet with a smile.

  The three of them turned to Max waiting for him to say something.

  ‘I’m scared,’ he said simply, ‘but I think you need me.' He smiled at Edgar.

  After they finished their coffees, they walked along the shop fronts looking for a bookshop to continue their quest to decipher Hadwyn’s riddle and find a copy of Pan’s Pipes.

  23. Bacteria on the move

  Against the wishes of Sergeant Allen, Steven had taken the decision to send the unknown thing that Mr McRae had delivered to the pub that morning down to London. The policeman had argued that it should be taken back to the police station for testing as it could be relevant to the investigation into the night watchman’s death or Peter Crisp’s disappearance. Once again, Steven’s MI6 authority had over-ridden the policeman and Georgia had taken the animal to London herself, together with the water samples. Hopefully Coldred and his technicians would be able to give them some idea of what it actually was.

  For the rest of the day Steven had decided to return to the woodland and try to follow the map that Georgia had marked on the day before. As he scanned the woodland looking for more meteorites, he had peace and quiet to think. No walkers were allowed in the area because of the police restrictions around the crime scene, so he had the place all to himself. Even the birds seemed to have left the area; it was like he was walking around in an airless vacuum; all he could hear was the sharp intake of his own breath filling his lungs with oxygen.

  In his head he was trying to make some sense out of what he knew so far, breaking the facts up into simple chunks of information. He now knew that the meteorite he had seen inside MI6 was not the only one to fall to Earth during the meteor shower and there was every possibility that some of the others also contained the same alien bacteria if they came from the same shower. In Steven’s mind he knew it was likely that the alien bacteria was in the muscles of the dead night watchman and was probably responsible for killing him. Then this unidentified creature arrives. It had to be linked to the alien bacteria. The thought of a living alien scared him whilst at the same time made him feel excited. He had been working in MI6 for two years now and not found a trace of anything that could be classed as vaguely like an unexplainable foreign object. This, though, was more than he could ever have hoped to find in his lifetime, an alien creature that could survive on Earth.

  The metal detector gave off a loud high pitched squeal as it passed over something metallic. Getting his spade he didn’t have to dig very far before he hit a discarded and rusty crushed drinks can. As he leant on the handle of the spade he looked down towards the riverbank where yesterday he had been sitting with Georgia.

  Everything was centred around the river. As the previous samples of the water showed traces of the bacteria, it must be the river that was spreading the bacteria to other locations. The infection had already found its way inside a cow from Richard Baxley’s land which was just beyond the woodland he was currently standing in. Thinking logically, the bacteria could easily have transferred some distance along the river as it divided into streams or joined up to other rivers. There was no way of knowing where the bacteria could end up. Wherever the water went, so could the bacteria as long as it could survive in the water. He remembered what Coldred had said inside MI6 that the bacteria only seemed to survive in damp conditions, but he also said it couldn’t survive in sunlight, so would be confined to the darker areas of the rivers, such as underneath the muddy banks or in the darkness at the bottom of deeper water.

  By lunchtime Steven had finished the area he was working on and decided to walk back to the pub stopping off at the local bookstore to buy an Atlas of Britain, as well as a limp ham a
nd lettuce sandwich from the supermarket.

  ‘Have there been any messages for me?' he asked the landlord as he picked up his room keys, but there hadn’t been. Georgia had still not returned from London.

  Steven’s shoes echoed on the narrow staircase as he trod heavily on the faded red patterned carpet that covered the steps at the back of the pub, then he walked along the cream woodchip papered corridor to his room. He opened the door, propped the metal detector up against the wall in a corner and lay down heavily onto the bed. As his head sank into the soft pillow, he caught the faint smell of Georgia’s perfume that she had left on the pillow from the night before. He realised that he missed her company and hoped that he would hear her gentle knock on the door to his room soon.

  He picked himself up from the bed and went over to the desk, taking a bite of the limp sandwich as he went.

  He placed the atlas in front of him and opened it out so that he could clearly see the double pages that showed Parsley Bottom and its river. He traced it backwards into the higher land of the Yorkshire Dales where the river must naturally start as rain-water collected before filtering down to lower ground. He then got a sheet of paper out of the desk drawer and started drawing the path of the river from Parsley Bottom, which was represented by a thin blue line and appeared to continue on through the small villages of Newton Rise and Beckwith Green as well as others which didn’t appear to be named. It then filtered into Thornback Reservoir followed by the larger Gouston and Swinesly Reservoirs from which the water drained into many other rivers and streams and on to Harrogate where it joined the Rivers Tidd and Ousse to York and Hull then into the North Sea.

  Steven looked at the thickening blue line as it continued eastward towards the sea, branching into many other small rivers and streams destined for more small villages. Before it joined the North Sea, the River Humber divided off into the River Trent which penetrated deep into the heart of England. If alien bacteria landed in Parsley Bottom during the meteor shower, it could already have reached densely populated areas like Nottingham and Birmingham. Maybe it had already spread further across England than he could possibly imagine.

  Steven picked up the phone and dialled the number for Sergeant Allen’s police station.

  ‘It’s Steven Knight,’ he spoke into the mouthpiece, ‘I need your help. I want to access the police database. I’m looking for any other reported deaths that might show similar marks to those we saw on the arm from the river. And I want to look in specific places including Nottingham and Birmingham. Yes, I know that will take time. Sergeant, remember that this is a matter of national security and you should not repeat anything you have seen or heard.’ He hung up and leant back in the chair thinking once again.

  If the bacteria was dangerous to humans, many thousands or even millions of people could be at risk if they came into contact with it and could all suffer a similar fate to that of the nightwatchman or the cow that had been sent to the abattoir.

  The possibility of the bacteria being spread was huge. If the water systems of towns and cities near to airports became infected then it could already be being carried around the world on aeroplanes.

  The other worrying form of transport was inside food. Coldred had mentioned that bacteria had already been discovered in a cow, but some may already have got into the food chain unnoticed. Steven stood up and threw the remains of his sandwich into the waste bin, walked over to his suitcase and pulled out his notepad. He flicked through the pages until he found the notes he had made on the train about the infected cow. It had been sent to Newton Rise Abattoir together with the rest of the herd by the farmer Richard Baxley two weeks earlier. The butcher who had noticed the strange colour in the meat was called Gilbert Rackham. Steven decided to make the most of his time and get the local bus to Newton Rise and talk to Mr Rackham as well as examine the paperwork so that he could trace the rest of the cows Mr Baxley had sent, but he was suddenly interrupted by a knock on his room door.

  24. Edinburgh Central Library

  After visiting several modern bookshops Edgar and the children were still no further forward in obtaining a copy of Pan’s Pipes.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Max spotted a rusty sign hanging outside a shop front down one of the small old lanes leading away from the main pedestrian area. It sold antique books, and from the outside the building appeared to be as old as the contents it sold. They walked through an old-fashioned door, the green paint pealing from the wood that framed each individual pane of glass. The shop itself smelt of dust and leather and very little light entered from outside. Floor to ceiling shelves were crammed with books in every available space, some shelves were so full that the wood bowed in the middle from the weight to rest on the top of the books directly beneath. There didn’t appear to be many modern books in this shop, and those that were published more recently were piled in a corner, like they had been disapprovingly cast aside. It was quiet in the bookshop and none of the children dared to speak. It was like being in a very old library where everyone was reading and the slightest sound would disturb them and be frowned upon.

  Edgar slid a book from one of the shelves that he was standing next to and began examining it closely. It almost looked like a piece of artwork. The orange brown leather spine had raised bands with gold lettering written on, while the front and back covers looked like thin slices of highly polished wood, the grain striped like the skin of a tiger.

  ‘May I help you?' asked a small bearded man that looked suspiciously around a doorway. His face was pale but his beard was as black as ink. In front of his eyes he wore a thin pair of spectacles, balanced on his nose so that he could peer over the top of them. It was a miracle that the glasses stayed on his nose considering that the frame was twisted so much and taped together at the hinge.

  ‘We’re looking for a book,’ said Edgar, who suddenly realised that it was a silly thing to start his question with considering they were inside a bookshop. He quickly continued, ‘have you got a copy of Pan’s Pipes?’

  ‘Robert Louis Stevenson?' said the pale man as he looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. Joe withstood the urge to look upwards and see what he was looking at.

  ‘I have several early copies of Stevenson’s work on the shelf behind you, but I don’t believe I have a copy of Pan’s Pipes,’ he replied.

  ‘Do you know the name of the book that it is included in?’

  ‘It was published amongst other papers in a book called Virginibus Puerisque. There are not many copies of it around but I’m sure there will be one at the Central Library, they have quite a collection of Stevenson books on display in one of the rooms under the bridge.’

  Edgar took a sharp intake of breath. ‘What do you mean by under the bridge?’ he said, thinking back to the line in Hadwyn’s riddle.

  ‘You can find the library on George IV Bridge not far from the castle. There are four storeys of rooms built below the bridge, one of which houses a permanent exhibition to our countryman Robert Louis Stevenson.’

  ‘Thank you so much. You have been a great help,’ said Edgar with a large smile on his face.

  Outside the shop Scarlet was the first to voice her excitement.

  ‘The riddle must mean the bridge that the library is built on. Below the bridge, a piper alone. There must be something to do with Pan’s Pipes inside the library that will actually take us nearer to finding the Silver Bough!’

  They all felt excited once again to be back on the trail laid down by Sir Hadwyn and it showed in the speed they walked as they made their way back up the Royal Mile towards the castle. The dampness in the air no longer squeezed the energy out of them and they strode purposely past St Giles’ Cathedral then turned left onto George IV Bridge. After a short walk they came upon an old elaborately decorated building that looked like it should have been built alongside a Chateau in France. They walked through the doors and were instantly surrounded by dark wooden polished shelves of books that had small walkways around the higher levels and cream and whit
e stone pillars stretching all the way up to the ceiling. By contrast to the antique bookshop they had just been in, the Library was organised and polished.

  Joe had never seen so many books before and hadn’t even known that so many actually existed. All of the books he had seen inside the mobile library that visited Parsley Bottom once a month could fit onto one shelf in this building.

  ‘This way,’ said Edgar in hushed tones as he noticed a sign directing them to the Stevenson Exhibition. They went through a door and wound their way down a black metal circular staircase until they reached the third floor. A darkened corridor with no windows was lit by a series of small lamps that hung on the wall and directed them beneath the bridge towards an exhibition space. There was a dark blue carpet here, not the highly polished wooden floor they had stood on in the entrance, and it was worn slightly along the middle from the many feet that had walked along it. They all followed Edgar as he walked beside a wood panelled wall and into a room off the main corridor. It was a very plain room with nothing in it except a series of glass cases in the centre arranged in a square surrounding a stone plinth with a bronze statue on the top. The walls were hung with several small information plaques, as well as paintings and photographs of Stevenson at various stages through his life.

  Looking into the glass cases were other visitors to the exhibition, as well as a library guide who patrolled slowly between the Stevenson Exhibition as well as the neighbouring Arthur Conan Doyle room.

  Edgar and Scarlet moved around the cases looking closely at all of the contents until they came back to their starting point, whilst Max and Joe studied the pictures on the wall. The glass cases contained various books held open at certain pages, as well as other items that had belonged to Stevenson during his life.

  ‘Have you found anything?' asked Joe as he looked over to Edgar.

  ‘The book the man said contained the poem of Pan’s Pipes is in this third cabinet, but the book isn’t even open. Other than that there is no mention of Pan’s Pipes. What about the pictures and photographs?’

  ‘Nothing there either. They seem to chart his life and travels, rather than anything to do with his books.’

  Edgar, Joe and Max stood staring into the cabinet, desperate to look inside the book to see what the Pan’s Pipes poem said, but prevented by the thick protective glass. Scarlet went over to a small wooden bench that was pushed up against one of the walls and sat down feeling quite deflated that they had not found anything. Suddenly she sprang up and shouted, ‘There!’

  Everyone in the room turned and looked at the red haired girl who was now pointing directly at Edgar and the two boys. Embarrassed by her outburst she apologised to the other visitors and the guide who now stood watching her very carefully.

  ‘Where?’ whispered Joe, thinking that Scarlet must be seeing things.

  ‘The statue in the middle,’ she said as she walked over to them.

  They all turned and looked at the statue in the centre of the arrangement of glass display cases. Standing on the top of the smooth cream stone pillar was a blackened bronze statue on a wooden base. Although the top half of the figure looked human, the legs appeared to be those of a goat. Held in his hands was a musical instrument made up of several tubes.

  ‘That must be Pan.’

  ‘Scarlet, you are amazing, where would we be without you?' said Edgar.

  ‘So is that the Silver Bough?' asked Max pointing to the musical instrument.

  ‘No, I don’t think so. The Silver Bough is one pipe,’ replied Edgar. ‘What the figure is holding is a collection of pipes of different lengths to make the different sounds. The hunt is not over yet, but we are getting closer.’

  As they looked more closely at the statue, they noticed that on the wooden base was a label that read:

  Pan, God of the Wild

  Presented to Edinburgh Central Library by the

  Holyroodhouse Palace Arts Trust in commemoration of

  the centenary of Stevenson’s death

  1994

  ‘Holyroodhouse is the royal palace at the end of the Royal Mile,’ recalled Joe. ‘Looks like that’s our next stop.’

  25. A Shocking Revelation

  The knocking on Steven’s door began again, this time slightly more urgently. He stood from the desk, cautiously opened the door and looked into the face of Georgia who gave him a kind, but nervous smile. Steven quickly realised that she was not alone as the tall figure of Coldred stepped out from the behind her and pushed open the door to enter the room. He was closely followed by Seward, both of them dressed in dark suits like they had just come back from a funeral.

  Georgia lay a gentle hand on Steven’s arm as she entered the room and sat herself on the edge of the bed.

  Steven wouldn’t expect the two men to come all the way from London to Parsley Bottom if it wasn’t for a very important reason so he decided to be patient and wait and see what they said. By the time Steven closed the door Seward, who appeared to look quite a bit older than he had inside MI6, had already sat himself down at the desk and was looking at the sketch of the river map that Steven had drawn earlier in the day. Coldred was standing to the side of the window looking out to the green in front of the pub.

  ‘What have you have found out so far?' demanded Seward who obviously didn’t even have time to say hello and seemed to be in a very bad mood.

  ‘Well, I spoke to Mr McRae, the gentleman who found the original meteorite, and have since been carefully searching the land around his watermill for more meteorites. So far I have found a further two, all of which appear to be intact,’ Steven decided it would probably be best not to mention the box of meteorites that had been stolen from the car to these two.

  ‘Where are they?' interrupted Coldred.

  Steven opened the wardrobe door, reached inside a bag and passed the two blackened meteorites to Seward.

  ‘We took further water samples from the river and I also have a draft report from the Pathologist about the arm that we found,’ he placed the piece of paper that Sergeant Allen had given to him that morning on the desk in front of Seward before continuing. ‘The report describes the muscles and skin as being “in a state of early decomposition” which sounds similar to the description of the muscle changes in the cow that went to Newton Rise Abattoir, I’m sure you would agree that it would be a good idea for the Pathologist’s samples from the arm to be tested for the alien bacteria. I’ve also mapped out the path of the river. If the bacteria is transporting itself through the water, the extent of the contamination could become quite considerable.’ Steven purposely hadn’t talked about the strange creature Mr McRae had brought to them this morning, hoping that they would tell him what they had found out. There was silence in the room. Steven wondered which of them would talk first, finally it was Seward:

  ‘We have some very dark times ahead of us, Mr Knight, very dark indeed,’ Steven wondered if the dark rings under Seward’s eyes had anything to do with what he was about to hear. ‘We are faced with a danger on a scale this planet has never seen before and unless we take action, we will never have the opportunity to see again. Our very existence as a race faces a much greater risk than we have ever encountered from any natural or manmade disaster in our entire history. How we act now will define the future of the human race as well as the world we live in for generations to come.’ Seward’s words hung in the air. Steven sat down next to Georgia on the edge of the bed. Suddenly the mood was very sombre.

  They all looked at Seward, waiting for him to explain what he was talking about.

  ‘The bacteria we found inside the meteorite is the same as that found in the river water as well as that found in the muscles of the cow. We heard yesterday that the man who worked at the Abattoir has also now died, as have his wife and a daughter. A third member of his family, the eldest daughter, is critically ill in an isolation booth in hospital. The Abattoir has now been locked down, all employees are being tested for the bacteria and so far 87% of them have tested positive
and are now in a secure military wing at Selly Oak Hospital in Birmingham. I can also tell you that the arm you found in the river does indeed contain traces of the alien bacteria.’

  ‘How are the workers from the Abattoir being treated if the bacteria is new to this planet?' asked Steven.

  Everyone turned away from Seward towards Coldred as he spoke to them all, even though he continued to look out of the window. ‘As the bacteria shows similarities to the Streptococcus bacteria or “flesh eating bacteria” that we already have on Earth, they are being treated in the same way with high doses of antibiotics as well as Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy,’ answered Coldred.

  ‘What’s Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy?' asked Georgia.

  ‘It’s like a glass chamber that you lie down in. The Oxygen level is increased inside the chamber to control the infection and encourage healing.’

  ‘Will they die?' asked Steven.

  ‘Some will,’ Coldred casually replied, ‘some may not. We don’t know yet. We are working on a vaccine that can make you immune to the bacteria, but until then we need you both to take a course of antibiotics just in case you’ve come into direct contact with the bacteria,’ added Seward. ‘Some of the vaccines we have already tried have been successful in preventing the disease in the laboratory and all major UK drugs companies have now been ordered by The British Government to produce it as a matter of great priority.’

  Steven was amazed at how much speed could be achieved when it was really necessary.

  ‘Start taking these tonight,’ instructed Coldred who threw a small box of tablets over to Steven and Georgia.

  ‘But what about all the other people who may have come into contact with it? Some have had more contact than us: Mr McRae, Sergeant Allen, all the policemen who had contact with the arm in the river. Anyone could be carrying the bacteria, what about them?’

  ‘The exposure of the alien bacteria to the wider public has become a greater risk than we first thought,’ said Seward. ‘Tomorrow morning a press release from the Ministry of Health will be reported on all news channels. In it there will be a statement about a new strain of Flu that has already caused illness across Britain and for the first time ever, everyone will be required by law to take the antibiotics until the vaccine can be found.’

  ‘You mean you’re going to lie!’ shouted Georgia to the surprise of everyone. ‘Shouldn’t people know exactly what is happening? What about those people that decide not to go to the doctor and take the antibiotics?’

  ‘They will probably die,’ Coldred said without feeling.

  ‘Miss Brown, we are faced with a very dangerous problem and need to act immediately so that we can save as many people as possible and protect the future of the human race,’ said Seward gently. ‘If the public knew the truth, there would be mass panic, resulting in more death. We need to be able to provide an orderly programme of protection. It’s the only way we can make sure that as many people are vaccinated against the bacteria as possible.’

  ‘Believe me,’ Coldred interrupted Seward, ‘the bacteria is the least of mankind’s worry. There is a much greater threat to come out of the meteorite than the bacteria, one we don’t know how to protect ourselves from. Even if every one in the country was vaccinated, we may still not be able to stop them from dying.’

  Coldred moved away from the window and stood in the centre of the room almost like an actor moving across the stage to stand in his spotlight. He paused for drama, making sure that all eyes were on him and he had everyone’s attention, before continuing his story.

  ‘The thing that Miss Brown brought to London could be described as an animal,’ he began, ‘but certainly not one that exists on this planet. Do you remember what I told you about how quickly the bacteria was changing and how we constantly have to re-label it as the molecular structure changes?’

  Steven nodded, thinking back to the meeting below MI6.

  ‘After enough growing and feeding, that creature is a later version of the bacteria, but there’s no way of knowing how it will change from here on.’

  ‘But that’s impossible isn’t it?' added Steven in an amazed voice. ‘How can something grow and change in such a short space of time?' he asked.

  ‘This is something I’ve been thinking about too. Their fast growth could be caused by the difference in air pressure or gravity compared to that on their own planet. All planets have a gravitational force that sticks things to the ground, but on some planets that gravity is greater, making things heavier. If the gravitational pull on the alien bacteria’s planet is different to our own, their growth rate could also be very different. For example, one of our years, could be equivalent to 100 of their years.’

  Coldred pulled a thin portable computer from his case and pressed a button on the side. The screen flashed awake and after he pressed certain areas of the touch screen, a series of pictures of small shapes dividing and growing began.

  ‘This is a picture of a single particle of the alien bacteria inside a container. The time between each picture is only 37 minutes, but look how quickly the contents of the container changes. This picture,’ he clicked onto another, ‘was taken after just 11 hours. You can see from the cracks beginning to show in the sides of the plastic container that the volume of bacteria has increased so much that it is putting it under a huge amount of pressure.’

  Steven and Georgia looked closely at the picture that was now on the screen. Inside the clear plastic container, a dark multicoloured mass similar to a fungus had grown and was now causing the plastic to crack and shatter like thin ice over a pond.

  ‘When we received the animal this morning, we took all precautions,’ Coldred continued. ‘Dissection of the creature was performed using the latest electronic laser cutting devices with robotic surgeons that were controlled from a separate room. Although the creature was at a far more advanced stage of growth than the bacteria we have grown in the laboratory, this shows all the signs that it was an infant creature.’

  ‘You mean this was an alien child?’

  ‘Yes. The creature was only two foot three inches tall and had no recognisable legs but it did have the shortened limb buds ready to develop into arms and legs. There was also the early development of a Patagium, similar to what bats need to fly.’

  ‘What’s a Patagium?' asked Georgia.

  ‘It’s the thin skin that stretches across the arm and fingers of a bat’s wing. Without it they wouldn’t be able to fly,’ replied Coldred.

  ‘So that alien creature we looked at this morning could actually fly?' Steven interrupted.

  ‘Not yet. But presuming an adult developed in the same way, it would seem likely that this creature could fly. At the rate they grow, it would only take around three days for the infant to become a fully grown, flying adult.’

  ‘This is incredible,’ said Georgia. On the screen of the computer, there were now some short films of sections of the creature being dissected.

  ‘Unfortunately, there is much more to this creature than first appears. It is actually a deadly chemical animal that is armed to kill. We found traces of several chemicals that could be excreted from under its skin. The first is a powerful Neurotoxic drug which would create a numb feeling in its victim, as well as muscle paralysis so that it became unable to escape or fight back. The second chemical is Nitric Acid and is used in a similar way to the acid inside your stomach, designed to dissolve and digest its food.’

  There was silence in the room, Steven and Georgia couldn’t believe what they were hearing, but they could see on the computer screen the creature they had unwrapped this morning on the grass outside the pub being examined by robotic probes.

  ‘As well as having an impressive set of weapons, this creature is also developing some defences. Initially the bacteria in the laboratory showed signs of being sensitive to sunlight, but this variation has a thicker coating of cells on its back forming a hood-like cover over it’s head area. These cells form an interlocking series of armoured tiles like those on
a Woodlouse or Armadillo, still allowing flexible movement but with some protection.’

  ‘How do they breathe?' asked Steven.

  ‘They have a series of small openings around the body that lead into a network of air tubes similar to that of a Cockroach. They appear to filter Nitrogen from the air.’

  ‘But if they don’t breathe oxygen how can they survive? The air is made of Oxygen isn’t it?' Georgia asked.

  ‘You’re right, there is oxygen in the air but only about 21%. 78% of the air is actually Nitrogen. Although we breathe Oxygen to survive not everything does. Plants, for example, actually need the carbon dioxide from the air to survive. There are also 23 strains of bacteria on this planet that live in certain soil types that actually breathe Nitrogen; others use Methane from the atmosphere.’

  Steven thought back to the morning when he had lifted some of that blackened skin up and seen what he thought was an eye.

  ‘Can they see?' he asked.

  ‘Yes, but they only have one eye. The actual eye is not very good when you compare it with ours. We have a clear lens so that we can see effectively; however, theirs is rather cloudy. This may protect their vision from the sunlight. They are able to adapt to their environment incredibly well. We have no way of knowing how these creatures will change, but we can only assume that they will change according to the conditions they are growing in.’

  ‘This is unbelievable,’ said Steven. ‘It’s like watching evolution at fast speed. Charles Darwin would be amazed.’

  ‘What do these creatures eat to survive?' Georgia asked cautiously.

  ‘Because of the rate of growth these creatures need a diet with plenty of protein in as well as other nutrients and the easiest way to consume large quantities of protein is by eating meat. Consuming animals such as cows and sheep will certainly supply them with proteins, but there’s a bigger source of protein on this planet made up of 7 billion animals.’

  ‘What animal’s that?' Georgia asked.

  ‘It’s us. Humans.’

  26. The Silver Bough

  Once again Edgar and the children walked down the Royal Mile past the shops to the Queens Gallery and the entrance to Holyroodhouse Palace. Edgar had picked up some sandwiches as it was already late afternoon by the time they arrived. They quickly joined onto the last toured admission to the Palace and walked out into a large square courtyard together with the rest of the tour group. The guide began his well used speech about the history of the palace as well as providing some amusing facts, but neither Edgar nor the children were listening.

  ‘The bard’s sweet song turns water to stone,’ Edgar repeated under his breath.

  ‘What exactly is a bard anyway?' asked Joe.

  ‘They were people who sang songs of Knights' courage and adventures,’ whispered Scarlet.

  ‘Maybe there’s a statue of a bard inside the Palace.’

  ‘I remember when we went on holiday to the Peak District….’ Max began before being interrupted.

  ‘What’s that got to do with the Silver Bough?' asked Joe as the tour group moved across the courtyard towards the entrance to the Palace, above which the royal coat of arms was carved into the stone.

  ‘Well, I was thinking about the stalactites and stalagmites that grew inside the caves. They had been formed by water which turned into stone.’

  ‘So you think we’re looking for a cave beneath the Palace?’

  ‘Possibly, but I was thinking more about that fountain over there,’ replied Max pointing his finger in the direction of a tall algae covered statue that stood in the centre of the courtyard. ‘This map says it’s a Victorian fountain, although there doesn’t look like there’s any water coming out of it. But, if it’s so old, it may not be working anymore, so you could say that the water has turned it to stone.’

  ‘It’s worth taking a look,’ said Edgar as he started striding towards the large ornate fountain in the centre of the courtyard. ‘We’ll catch up with you in a minute,’ he shouted to the tour guide as the group continued towards the Palace entrance. Edgar and the children now stood on the edge of a well groomed circle of grass looking up at the fountain.

  Lion heads protruded from around the stone base whilst above it many different characters supported animals making up the arms of the crown shaped fountain at the top where statues of guards stood proudly holding their weapons. They all walked around the grass looking at the fountain from different angles for clues that might fit Hadwyn’s riddle.

  ‘Didn’t you say that the Silver Bough was a simple pipe?' Joe asked Edgar.

  ‘Yes. But it’s not likely to appear in its silver form.’

  ‘Well, there’s a piper over here,’ said Joe from one side of the fountain. They all crowded round to where Joe was standing and looked up at the figure he was pointing to. On one of the ornate supports that went up from the base, they looked at a stained green man with a round hat and a flowing cape who was frozen in time, blowing into a pipe.

  ‘Does that look like the Silver Bough?' asked Joe.

  ‘I can’t remember in detail; it’s so long since I saw Arthur presenting it to Hadwyn. It was a simple object with no jewels or gems, just a simple shaped flute with a series of finger holes.’

  They all continued to look up at the statue and wondered if this really could be the Silver Bough that was in the hands of the stone piper. The back of the group of tourists had now gone through the main building doorway without them and apart from some tourists taking photographs of the Palace, no one seemed to be paying the four of them and the fountain any attention.

  ‘There looks like some writing on the base of the piper statue,’ said Joe, squinting. ‘It looks like the same style as the writing on the stones in the Faerie Ring, as well as on Hadwyn’s shield.’ They all squinted upwards trying to make out what was scratched around of the edge of the base beneath the piper’s feet.

  ‘It could just be the maker’s mark,’ suggested Scarlet.

  ‘Or graffiti,’ added Max.

  Edgar strained his eyes to see the writing and took out his notebook, jotting down what was written.