The Blood Line

by Ben Yallop

  The police naturally thought they had found their man. But then they found evidence that Boxall was still alive and well with a complete and undamaged version of the book.

  Over the years repeated attempts have been made to crack the case. Progress has been hampered because some of the evidence has been destroyed or gone missing. At some unknown point the book itself disappeared. To this day the case is still 'open'. One of the greatest parts of the mystery has been the lack of any clue as to what the man died of.”

  Tarak put the pages down and ran his hands through his hair. ‘Tamam Shud,’ he whispered to himself before turning to Kya. ‘We have a big problem,’ he said. ‘Box has finally succumbed to his pursuer. The world just became a much more dangerous place.’ He shook his head. ‘I wonder when this happened.’

  ‘Wasn’t there a date at the start of the article?’ said Kya.

  ‘Yes, we know what year this man was in when he was killed but I wonder how long ago he arrived there.’

  ‘Um, does it matter?’

  ‘No, perhaps not. But either way this is very bad news.’

  Kya waited for him to continue.

  ‘These words ‘Tamam Shud’. These words coming to light mean that Alfred Boxall is dead. It’s his message to those in the know that his nemesis has finally caught him and killed him. We should have done more to protect him. I just never thought Qayin could actually best him. Box, as he is, was, known, has been pursued for years by a product of the most dangerous line, the Blood Line.’

  ‘Hang on,’ said Kya. ‘Didn’t it say that the police found this Alfred Boxall alive at a later date?’

  ‘Misdirection is easy when you can time travel using lines. The scrap of paper is the defining clue. Qayin has won. We need to get hold of that book, break the code and guard that line.’

  ‘Sam has found other information too,’ said Kya. ‘He’s explained it to me. From what he’s uncovered it looks like it isn’t a random strike from a comet or asteroid which destroys his world, and it isn’t some ancient God called Pyxidis who gave birth to Mu. Sam thinks it’s the Riven King who causes it all. He’s misdirected us all somehow.’

  Tarak waved a hand. ‘Yes, well. It’s all quite obvious when you think about it. But with the discovery of the Blood Line looming we have bigger problems. We need to protect our own time, Kya.’

  Sam stood in the doorway. ‘Wait. You knew? You knew that it isn’t an accident. That it can be stopped?’ Sam shook his head in disbelief. ‘You knew all along.’

  Tarak stared back at Sam. ‘It is no accident. But can it be stopped? The King must have already won, or how could Mu exist as the future? How could he even have the plan if it has not already worked? You see it is futile to try to beat him in this time. I just want to protect Mu. To save what people I can of the future. There our destiny is less sure. We have something to fight for. I’m sorry Sam, but your world is doomed and there is nothing you can do to stop it. It’s already happened or we wouldn’t be standing here now.’

  Sam railed. ‘You’re just trying to save your own skin. You won’t exist if the King is stopped in this time, before he kills us all.’

  Tarak lifted his chin. ‘And what would you do? If you stop him today, whilst your world still exists, then Mu won’t come into existence. Mu is what appears once this world has ended. Like your world appeared after the dinosaurs disappeared. Mass extinction events happen, Sam. That’s just the way it goes. Your people have had their chance. If you save them, and I don’t think you can, then Weewalk won’t ever appear. Kya won’t ever appear. And Hadan won’t ever appear. Do you see what this means? If you stop the Riven King you won’t exist, your grandfather will never be born. How can you stop him if you don’t exist? You have to make a choice as I have. Both worlds cannot exist and you’re as much a part of Mu as I am. It’s them or us. You, me, the whole of Mu only exists because the Riven King succeeds in ending this world. And how great is this world anyway? Greed, war, corruption, pollution. Why save it at our own expense? It’s diseased.’

  ‘You’re as bad as the King,’ said Sam through gritted teeth. ‘All these people. We have to stop him, even if that causes us to disappear. We have to try. And Mu is not much better. Everyone lives in fear of the King.’

  ‘But that, Sam, is what I am trying to stop. I am trying to make Mu a better place where we can begin again. That is why I needed you to kill Ferus.’

  Sam shouted. ‘You cannot allow this to happen! There has to be something we can do.’

  Tarak had the decency to look miserable. ‘Sam, I don’t believe you can stop the King. I think the Universe has decided that Mu will exist. One world has to die. Stop the King before he acts and Mu ceases to exists – all those people in Mu, some of whom you have met, will never come to be. But in the future we have a chance to rebuild properly. I just don’t believe that you can unpick the events which lead into Mu’s existence. You more than anyone have come to see how intrinsically linked they are. Mu has been leaking into your world for millennia. You cannot stop it existing. The past will change as much as the future. Give up Sam. Give up and help me save my world. Our world. It can be ours.’

  Sam shook with anger. ‘I won’t abandon billions of people here. If I can stop him I will.’

  ‘Then everyone you currently care about, including yourself, will no longer exist. But, no matter. You will never succeed. There is one thing we can do together though. We both wish to stop the Riven King from becoming more powerful. If he finds the Blood Line neither of us will succeed. If you want to protect people we need to stop the Riven King from using the Line. We can’t fight more than one of him.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The Palace of Kalapa

  Date unknown

  Hob opened his eyes. He was lying on his back. Above him was a large and high stone roof almost lost in darkness, but holed, with patches of blue sky visible. He tried to move but found that his movement was limited. Was he tied up? He struggled in momentary panic. He did not see a massive shape detach itself from the wall just inside the ruins. It placed a giant hand, the size of a tractor tyre, on the cracked stone at the edge of the doorway as it moved out of the shadows. It squeezed through the huge broken arch and crept toward him. As Hob squirmed a deep rumbling voice echoed across the room, so loud in the confined space that it made Hob’s ears hurt.

  'DO NOT MOVE.'

  Hob froze, turning his head to try to see the source of the command. Movement caused his whole head and neck to ache like he had whiplash and he winced, suddenly nauseous. Part of the shadows at the end of the hall moved. Then Hob realised that he was only looking at a part of the thing as the rest of it began to unfold itself from the darkness. The speaker was enormous. One giant hand pressed flat against the floor as it manoeuvred itself onto its knees with a noise like a cave-in.

  A face moved into the light coming from the broken ceiling, a serious face, frowning, then suddenly smiling.

  'YOU ARE AWAKE.'

  Relief washed over the kobold as he looked into the giant's face.

  'Hello, Gog. Am I glad to see you?'

  'HELLO KING. DO NOT MOVE. YOU ARE HURT.'

  Hob's thoughts immediately turned to Hödekin.

  'Gog, where is Hödekin? Is he okay? I need to see him.' Hob threw off the blankets that the giant had wrapped around him and looked around wildly. Seeing another bed and a figure he rushed over, sliding on his knees across the stone floor as he came to the side of his friend.

  'HE MAY LIVE. BUT HE LOST BLOOD.'

  Hob saw that Hödekin's wounds had been carefully bound and that the kobold was sleeping soundly. His face was deathly pale. Hob checked the bandages. Given his size Gog had a surprisingly deft and gentle touch. Hob was similarly bandaged, but not as heavily as Hödekin whose wraps around his chest were showing patches of dark red blood. Reassured that Hödekin was resting easily Hob pulled off some of his own torn and worn clothing.

  'Is there anyone else here?' he asked the giant. />
  'ONLY ME AND MAGOG. EVERYONE ELSE IS GONE,' said the giant shaking his head sadly. 'MAGOG IS HUNTING.'

  Hob gave a sigh. He had been hoping to find an army here, or at least enough kobolds to make a difference. Still, the size and strength of the two giants, Gog and Magog, would be a significant asset, if he could persuade them to follow him. But that was a way off yet. For now he would have to wait until Hödekin was better and they had rested.

  'Gog, tell me what happened. How did we make it through the line? Where is everyone? What have the Riven done here?'

  'ANSWERS WILL COME OWD HOB. FIRST REST AND EAT.'

  *

  Later, having eaten, Hob sat with the two giants in the ruined hall.

  ‘LUCKY KING,’ said Gog. ‘TINY CROWN MADE A NOISE AS IT FELL THROUGH THE LINE. BUT I WAS NEAR AND SAW IT. GUESSED THE LINE WAS OPEN. REACHED IN AND GRABBED AND OUT YOU BOTH CAME. LINE CLOSED BUT FIRST GOG GAVE THAT DOG A PAT ON THE HEAD THAT HE WILL NOT FORGET.’

  Gog handed the circlet to Hob who grinned.

  ‘I can’t remember much, but I remember thinking that that line had to stay open. Thank you Gog. You saved our lives.’

  The giant just shrugged.

  Hob sat in the ruins of what had once been the great hall where he had held court. He sat on the cracked steps which had once led up to the throne. No chair stood there now. Gog and his giant brother Magog sat cross legged in front of him, side by side, filling the room. Hödekin was still in a makeshift bed in the corner. He had woken briefly and Hob had been able to help him drink a little water. The effort had exhausted him and he had fallen back asleep but he was looking better and more colour had returned to his cheeks. Magog had brought in what looked like an entire roasted cow. Hob had eaten gratefully and had taken a quick look around the area.

  The ceiling in the hall had several large holes in, but seemed structurally sound. The windows had gone but the day here in Kalapa was warm. Bees and other insects buzzed lazily in and out of the windows. A pair of collared doves sat on one windowsill watching proceedings and nodding their heads as if they agreed with whatever was said.

  The two giants had done what they could to keep the centre of the palace tidy. Bushes and weeds had been pulled away from the main hall and rubble had been moved away and the cracked floors kept clear. It was a less rosy picture further out. It had not taken long for the outlying parts of the palace to have been taken back by nature. Small trees and bushes grew from ruined walls. Hob had not been able to rest before he had walked around the ruins which had once been his home so that he could see the devastation for himself.

  Hob gave a sigh as he looked out of the hall through a massive archway which had once been filled by two enormous wooden doors wrapped in elaborate metal work. He said quietly, to himself, ‘I had to get as many as I could out. I knew that we could not hold out here. The Riven were too strong.’

  Although he said it quietly the giants heard him.

  ‘YOU DID BEST THING, KING,’ said Magog. ‘SAVED AS MANY AS YOU COULD.’

  Hob took a deep breath and lifted his chin to look at the giants. Their sad faces wore matching kind smiles.

  ‘Tell me what you saw that day.’

  Gog rubbed his chin thoughtfully with a massive hand.

  ‘MOST YOU KNOW. ME AND MAGOG WERE NOT CLOSE WHEN RIVEN CAME. THEY WERE SNEAKY AT FIRST. GOT MANY RIVEN CLOSE BEFORE ATTACK WAS STARTED. BUT WE HEARD HORN BLOW AND WE RAN HERE. KOBOLDS WERE EVERYWHERE, FIGHTING HARD. BUT RIVEN WERE MANY AND HAD BROUGHT MANY TERRIBLE BEASTS. WE FOUGHT HARD ALONGSIDE BUT RIVEN HAD BROUGHT TOO MANY, AND MANY HAD PRESENCE.

  ‘LITTLE PEOPLE FOUGHT LIKE TRUE WARRIORS BUT BECAME SURE THAT THEY COULD NOT WIN. THINK YOU HAD SAME IDEA AT SAME TIME. IF ANY WERE TO LIVE, WAS TIME TO GO.

  ‘HEARD YOU CALL. CALL WENT EVERYWHERE, EVERY LITTLE PERSON REPEATED. AS MANY AS COULD CAME HERE TO FRONT OF HALL WHERE OLD, SICK AND CHILDREN WERE HIDING. SAW YOU SHAPE FIGHTERS LIKE AN ARROW HEAD AND LEAD THAT CHARGE FOR THE LINE THAT WOULD TAKE YOU ALL OUT TO THE FORESTS.’

  Magog nodded his head in agreement. ‘WE HELPED GUARD AT THE BACK,’ he said in his booming voice. ‘SNATCHED UP A FEW SLOW ONES ON THE WAY. KNOCKED ASIDE A FEW RIVEN WHO GOT TOO CLOSE. WHEN WE MADE IT TO THE LINE ME AND GOG STAYED TO HELP ANY LEFT BEHIND.

  ‘WE COULD NOT HELP EVERYONE. RIVEN TOO STRONG. BEASTS TOO FIERCE. IN END NOTHING MORE WE COULD DO SO WE RAN TOO. BUT RIVEN DID NOT LEAVE THEN. THEY STAYED. KEPT SOME KOBOLD PRISONER. WE CREPT BACK IN MIDDLE OF BLACK NIGHT. WAS THINKING OF PLAN TO HELP THEM ESCAPE BUT THEN HE CAME. RIVEN KING HIMSELF CAME HERE.’

  Magog took a deep breath in.

  Gog looked across at him and picked up the story.

  ‘VERY QUICKLY HE KILLED. THEN WHEN NO-ONE LEFT HE BEGAN TO TEAR APART SOME OF THESE BUILDINGS WITH PRESENCE. THREW ROCKS AROUND LIKE TOYS, SMASHED AND CRACKED. THEN THEY ALL LEFT AND WE RETURNED. FOUND ONLY BODIES.’

  Hob nodded unhappily. He had seen the rows of unnamed graves when exploring the ruins earlier that day. He had knelt there and wept for some time for the dead, for the ones he had failed. Now he was starting to feel that he had failed them further by not taking any action since. That was something else he would have to come to terms with. But he also felt just the slightest flicker of excitement at the thought that now, after long years, he might just be able to get a proper resistance started again. The Riven assumed the kobolds were finished. But there was no one better at hiding than the kobolds and they just might be able to use the over-confidence of the Riven against them.

  As if reading his thoughts Magog said ‘NOT SO MANY GRAVES AS THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN IF YOU HAD NOT LED THE FIGHT TO ESCAPE. AND NOW PERHAPS IF YOU CALL THEY WILL COME BACK?’ He looked excited at the prospect too.

  Hob nodded. ‘Yes, I hope we may be able to recall many here. It has been a hard fight over too many years, but now I hope that some will return here to Kalapa, not least to thank you, Gog and Magog, who have done so much for our people both in our defence and in honour of our dead.

  ‘After I left here with the last of the kobold race we split up. Every kobold went a different way, through different lines, to every place in this world and any other that we could find, to every time. Perhaps, once Hödekin is a little recovered, you could help me search one or two places nearby?’

  ‘THAT WOULD MAKE US HAPPY,’ said Gog. ‘YOU SHOULD BLOW THE HORN AGAIN.’

  ‘Does it still work?’ asked Hob in surprise.

  ‘RIVEN BENT IT. WE HAVE DONE OUR BEST TO FIX BUT IT IS TOO LITTLE FOR OUR MOUTHS AND WE COULD NOT TEST.’

  ‘Let’s do it now,’ said Hob suddenly filled with even more excitement.

  Magog squeezed out of the massive empty doorway and returned a moment later carrying a tarnished metal horn which looked like a toy as it lay on his gigantic palm.

  Hob took it and leaving by another doorway climbed some stone steps up a tower until he reached a place where the top had been knocked away, lying in a pile of rubble below. There standing with his feet braced on two steps he looked out at the rolling hills around the palace, put the horn to his lips and with an enormous breath blew the longest and loudest note he could manage.

  The horn was an amazing piece of work and the sound it produced was phenomenal. Hob smiled. It felt great to blow that note. He put the horn to his lips again and blew the note again, long and clear on the breeze.

  He stood there, face to the air for a while before returning to the hall where Gog and Magog waited. They both wore a smile at the sound that the horn had produced. Hob was delighted to see that Hödekin had opened his eyes at the noise and after some water was able to report that he was feeling better, although weak.

  ‘Well,’ said Hob at last. ‘I hadn’t expected anyone to appear immediately but now we wait.’

  *

  Hob’s elation at blowing the horn soon faded. It seemed as though no kobold had been within earshot for after several hours nobody had appeared to answer the call. As the sun began to set Owd Hob blew it again, out into the darkening
evening until he felt his lungs were on fire to match the flames of the setting sun in the fluffy clouds above him. But as the light in the clouds faded and the stars winked on, still no-one came.

  For a week, at least twice a day Hob blew his horn, in the morning and in the evening in the hope that kobolds might sometimes wander within range of the sound, keen to be near the palace. During the day Hob walked the hills with one or other of the giants looking for signs of the small folk. But they saw no-one, the hills were deserted for as far as they could roam within a day. Gog and Magog had seen none of Hob’s kin since the day that the Riven had torn the palace apart. It was looking as though blowing a horn was not going to make any difference.

  Hödekin grew in strength and was now able to move around more freely, although he could not venture too far before becoming tired. The jagged claw marks across his chest were tender under the thick scabs and around the dark red of the dried blood was a rainbow of bruises. But Hob felt such a relief to see him up and about. It was galling to have fought their way to the palace only to fail in finding any help for their cause but it would have been devastating if the failure had also cost a life.

  For a week Hob blew the horn and no-one came. On the eighth day a figure appeared.

  Hob and Hödekin were alone in the hall, the giants having gone out to hunt for food when a kobold suddenly walked boldly in through the empty archway. Such was their surprise that Hob and Hödekin could do nothing but stare.

  The kobold walked up to them and shook each of their hands as they continued to stand dumbstruck, before wiping his nose on the back of his hand and giving them a nod.