by Ruth Eastham
Aidan started to follow them as they strode ahead, but then he paused and glanced back, his attention caught by something.
Firefly and Fenland Queen were a little way off, pressed close together, making strange, low snickering sounds he’d never heard before.
‘HIDE THE TOMB WHERE NONE DARE GO!’
Aidan stretched out a hand and tried to approach them, but they were too jumpy to be touched.
‘LAY HER TO REST IN A TOMB OF HER OWN,
‘LAY HER TO SLEEP ON HER FINAL THRONE!’
Shadows from the trees of Carrus Woods crept over the field, making dark purple patches. Overhead, clouds collected, as if a storm was on its way.
‘What is it?’ he called to the horses.
A breeze lifted their manes. He saw them toss their heads; eyes wide, staring towards the lake. Faint swirls of mist lingered over its surface.
‘ETERNAL SLEEP, FOREVER IN YOUTH.’ His friends’ voices sounded further away now. ‘GUARDED BY LEVERETS, VALOUR AND TRUTH.’
What was it? Aidan peered into the gloom. His heart thudded.
‘BURY HER BONES …’
Two figures were standing by the bank of the lake.
‘BURY HER SWORD!’
Two girls. Tall like Emmi. Side by side. Completely still.
‘IN A STONE-CARVED TOMB, WITH A ROYAL HOARD!’
There were whooping cheers and claps.
The figures vanished.
‘You coming or what, Aidan?’ Jon hollered through the dusk.
‘You go ahead,’ Aidan shouted in their direction. He stared hard at the place where he’d seen the girls.
Maybe Jon was right, he thought as he scanned around the lake; maybe he was a nutter after all. ‘I’ll catch you up!’
‘OK.’ There was the sound of chatter; Jon making a joke; loud laughter; then his friends’ voices faded.
It must be the stress of Centurion and the prospect of the move, thought Aidan as he gave a final glance round the lake. Maybe it really was all getting to him way too much. Messing with his head.
He was about to turn to go, but then caught his breath.
Close to where the figures had been, there were two flames on the water.
He gaped.
Flickering, shifting shades of blue.
Aidan’s body tensed as he watched them. He thought about shouting for Emmi and Jon, but they were long gone, the fields around him deserted. He pulled out his phone and tried some shots, but the camera wasn’t working and when he typed Emmi a message, there was no signal to send it.
Aidan swallowed, mesmerised by what he was seeing.
The blue flames had started to move across the lake. One glowing brighter, then fading; the other taking turns to glow brighter, then fade. They travelled across the water and into the meadow.
A pair of flames, they moved like footsteps across the grass.
Daring him to follow.
– CHAPTER 5 –
WILL-O’-THE-WISPS
Aidan tracked the blue flames as they moved across the meadow and on to the dark lane beyond.
‘I can’t believe I’m doing this,’ he muttered to himself. ‘It is way too freaky.
‘Zee will-o’-the-wisp,’ he croaked quietly. ‘Come to lead me to my doom.’
The flickering lights led the way along the narrow road and towards the edge of Carrus Woods, and the museum. Lights from the main hall spilled through the tall, narrow windows of the building where the meeting was being held.
But why was he being led here, Aidan wondered?
He went up the gravel driveway, weaving between the parked cars, and approached the front.
The will-o’-the-wisps glimmered briefly by the main entrance, and then disappeared.
Aidan slipped inside and paused in the foyer. He could hear voices coming from the hall. Echoey coughing and low conversations told him there was a roomful of people; a discussion in full flow. No sign whatsoever of the blue flames now.
‘Fracking pollutes water and can cause earthquakes,’ someone was saying. There was a round of applause and Aidan tiptoed towards the room. The door was ajar and he peered in.
Inside, people filled the rows of chairs set out between the exhibition cases and along the old dark wood panelling of the museum. He saw the backs of Jon, Emmi and Robbie. James Berryman was strutting about at the front, in a baggy tweed jacket that looked like it had belonged to his dad. Typical of Berryman to put himself in charge.
Aidan’s eyes were drawn to a movement. The flames were back, rising up the wall at the far side of the hall, out of sight of the others, overlapping and intertwining over a low doorway.
To reach them, Aidan realised, he’d have to cross the whole room without being seen; somehow slip between the display cases behind the back row of chairs. The last thing he needed was to be spotted by Berryman.
He took a long breath and eased the door wider.
‘The environmental risks are exaggerated by the media.’ Berryman’s reedy voice. ‘Enershale follows strict safety regulations in order to operate – do you think I’d lease them my family’s land if they didn’t?’
There were loud grumbles from the audience. One person called out. ‘You’re only pro-fracking because of all the money you’re making out of it!’
Aidan stepped inside the room.
‘We’re talking jobs for the people of Carrus!’ Berryman ignored the comment, his voice stretching over the din. ‘A secure energy future for this country!’
And our future? wondered Aidan as he took another step. New school, new flat on the seventeenth floor. Definitely no horses allowed.
He reached the safety of the closest display case and crouched behind it. Through the glass he saw Roman coins and spear tips set out on dusty red velvet.
‘And a secure payout for you, Lord Berryman!’ Aidan’s drama teacher, Miss Carter, called.
Aidan had made it halfway across the floor. The eerie flames were swirling faster now, as if they were beckoning him more urgently.
‘Carrus has a rich historical heritage, as this museum proves,’ came a voice Aidan recognised as Mr Williams. The elderly museum curator stood up, resting a hand on the back of his chair for support.
Ahead, Aidan saw another glass cabinet, the last one before the doorway he was aiming for. Inside was a stuffed hare standing up on its back legs, the fur threadbare, bristled into uneven clumps. Aidan found his gaze drawn to the animal. It seemed to fix him with huge amber-coloured glass eyes.
Aidan shook himself. He looked again at the flames and noticed that they seemed to be getting fainter. Get a move on! Crouching, he started to cross the space towards the case …
‘Exhibits, is that what you call them, Mr Williams?’ Berryman said. ‘A mangy stuffed rabbit, for goodness sake! I’ve seen better specimens on my Sunday dinner table!’ He broke into his donkey-like laugh.
There was a ripple of laughter in return. Mostly grunts of disapproval. Aidan dived behind the exhibition case as heads turned backwards to look at the hare.
He knelt there, peering through the glass of the cabinet.
‘The hare is the noble emblem of Carrus-under-Hill.’ Williams’ voice quivered in indignation. ‘The royal symbol of Queen Boudicca.’
The blue will-o’-the-wisps still played along the frame of the doorway, almost within touching distance. Aidan waited for the right moment to make a dash for it …
‘I for one believe the old stories,’ Miss Carter told the hall. ‘There’s no doubt in my mind that the true site of the last great Iceni-Roman battle was right here in Carrus.’
Her words made Aidan catch his breath, though he wasn’t sure why. He snuck a look and saw her stand up with a swish of her flowery skirt, turning to face the audience. She swept her long, blonde hair into a clip with a determined expression. The room was very quiet; the only sounds muffled wails of the wind blowing outside; uneasy gusts rattling the windowpanes.
Berryman was gazing at her, his mouth slightly open.
Miss Carter’s bracelets clinked together on her slender arms as she raised them. Her large blue eyes flashed.
‘Boudicca’s tomb is here,’ she said with authority. ‘Somewhere. We just haven’t found it yet. And it’s a total disgrace to allow fracking when a national treasure of such importance could be right under our feet!’
The audience broke into cheers and applause.
Aidan gave a muffled cry.
The case with the hare in it …
He stumbled back, struggling to keep his balance …
There had been a woman’s face reflected in the glass.
A face.
Pale, and still as stone.
Grey-green eyes staring straight at him.
He somehow made it through the doorway, shrinking into the shadows behind it.
The applause inside the hall continued, the sound blurring in his head as he tried to control his panic.
The clapping subsided, but Aidan stayed fixed to the spot, heart racing, his mind still filled with that face.
The woman had been familiar somehow; but where had he seen her before? He tried to remember, but couldn’t.
‘Queen Boudicca’s tomb,’ Aidan heard Williams repeat Miss Carter’s words dreamily. ‘It’s almost too much to hope for; finding the tomb would certainly stop the fracking for good. It’s likely the whole Carrus area would be declared a World Heritage Site.’
Berryman’s braying laughter. ‘Yes, that might just do the trick! Discover the final resting place of the most iconic warrior queen in history. Good luck!’
‘Get a grip, will you?’ Aidan muttered to himself. First the phantom flames, now phantom faces. Things were just getting weirder.
He took in his surroundings. He was at one end of a long corridor. High, round windows cast shafts of murky twilight down into the space. No will-o’-the-wisps in sight. There was only one direction to go in from here. He headed towards the dark doorway at the end of the hall.
EXHIBITION ROOM, read a wooden sign, pointing the way. And below it, a printed notice:
Aidan moved down the corridor. This call for artefacts sounded like a bit of a desperate measure to him. The idea that someone had been keeping a priceless Iceni artefact to themselves for years but might suddenly donate it to the museum was a bit hard to believe.
But then, Carrus was desperate.
‘We need more archaeological surveys of the area,’ Aidan heard Williams’ voice echo. ‘This is the driest summer on record, and the drought conditions we have just now would be perfect for more aerial studies, which can be excellent for spotting potential sites.’ The curator gave a heavy sigh. ‘But many months, not to mention thousands of pounds, would be needed to investigate every mound and every hollow.’
The discussion faded into the background.
Aidan slowed his pace as he approached the doorway.
In front of him, the space filled suddenly with blue light.
– CHAPTER 6 –
THE SHADOW MAN
Aidan’s hand instinctively reached out towards the will-o’-the-wisps. He felt a fascinated shiver in his fingertips and the flames dissolved away in smoky blue strands.
There was the scraping of chair legs from the hall as people stood up to leave; the murmur of conversation. From outside came the sound of footfalls on the gravel drive. Car engines rumbled to life; headlights swept across the walls of the corridor from the high windows.
‘Anybody left in the museum?’ Mr Williams’ voice called out from the hall, some minutes later.
Aidan stayed quiet. There was no way he was leaving until he’d tried to work out why the flames had led him here.
He heard the entrance door slam. A key in a lock. There was the eerie sensation of being completely alone in a big old building full of history and secrets.
Heart thudding, he stepped into the exhibition room.
Aidan waited a few seconds, letting his eyes adjust. He decided that it was best not to turn on the light; someone might see from outside. Through the gloom he made out the shapes of display cases, most of them empty. So much for people donating their priceless treasures.
Aidan moved silently between the cabinets. The few objects inside them didn’t look much different from what was in the main hall: crooked Roman coins and broken arrowhead blades mostly, with white cards alongside with information about what they were; definitely not the kind of treasures to stop Enershale in its tracks.
Aidan froze.
He’d heard a noise from the other side of the room.
Footsteps.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he listened hard. There was definitely someone moving about over there. Why hadn’t they answered when Mr Williams had called out?
Aidan crouched behind the nearest case. His breathing sped up. Had whoever it was heard him come into the room?
The noises continued; muffled scuffling; a sound like metal scraping wood.
Aidan strained to see through the shadows. There was someone – a man? – by one of the cases. A thin beam of torchlight flitted about, but never caught the person’s face. There was a sudden sound of glass breaking and scattering. Then a bang, and moonlight spilt across the floor as the fire escape at the far end of the room was flung open and the figure disappeared through it.
Aidan rushed to the door and looked out. But the drive was deserted. There was no sign of anyone in the lane.
He went back inside, fingers scrabbling along the wall for the light switch. He flicked it a few times, but nothing happened.
He got out his mobile, turning on the torch so that it cast a glow across the room and its rows of cabinets. He moved cautiously forward, his foot crunching on something, and he shone the phone down to find the shards of glass covering the wooden floor. Running his phone light up from the ground, he saw a smashed display case. It was empty.
An unsettling creaking punctured the silence as the fire escape swung to and fro on its hinges.
Aidan peered more closely at the cabinet. Jagged pieces of glass still sat in the frame. He noticed blood spots on the floor – a trail leading towards the fire exit. Whoever it was must have cut themself.
Aidan shone his phone into the broken case. As he inspected it further, he realised that the cabinet wasn’t completely empty after all.
Carefully, he extracted a piece of white card. He put his phone close and saw that the paper had something on it. He peered at the text, recognising the handwriting immediately.
Robbie.
Aidan remembered his mysterious comment when they were by the chariot; what was it again? I’ve got a best treasure. Wait and see. Was this what he’d meant?
What had been inside the case? Aidan wondered. What was so important that someone would want to steal it? Should he phone the police right away? He had to tell the others about all this!
He rattled off a series of quick texts to Jon:
And that’s when Aidan smelt the smoke.
– CHAPTER 7 –
FIRE
Aidan turned to see flames licking up the far wall. Smoke curled like black tongues over the old wood panelling of the museum. It was shocking how fast it was spreading, greedily gobbling the dark varnish with a spitting crack.
Aidan stared. An acrid smell hit the back of his throat. Coughing, he shook himself into action. He looked for the fire alarm and sprang towards it, smashing the flimsy round pane of glass.
Nothing.
Nothing?
He hammered it again with his fist, but no bell rang out.
The smoke was getting thicker fast, swirling forward to fill the spaces between the exhibition cabinets. A case nearest the fire already had cracks spreading and widening across it from the heat. Before he could react, the glass exploded, and Aidan crouched, shielding his face as jagged pieces flew across the room.
He lowered his hand from his eyes, thoughts tumbling. It crossed his mind to save some of the artefacts. He thought about Mr Williams, and Miss Carter, and all
these objects collected over years and years. Should he try and make a mad grab?
But there was no time. Already the glass of another case had soot coating it in a speckled brown film; cracks webbing through its surface.
Flames circled the doorway to the corridor. The smoke got denser. Aidan took wheezy breaths. His head became fuzzy, as if he was starting to faint.
Have to get out.
He tried to get to the open door leading outside, blinking hard to see the way, eyes streaming in the sooty, suffocating atmosphere.
He sank down, chest flat to the floor, gulping at the clearer air and pulling himself forward. He became disorientated by the smoke. He tried to listen for the creaking of the open fire escape, hearing nothing except the rushing crackle of the fire.
Aidan groped around. He smelt a waft of cooler air and scrambled towards it; tumbling and rolling on to sharp stones – gravel – swallowing air into his lungs.
His vision was still blurry. Strange shadows flitted over the driveway in the firelight. There were shapes; figures on horses; strange sounds mixed with the growl and hiss of flames. A noise like galloping hooves that couldn’t be real; high-pitched neighing.
There was a wave of heat at his back. An army of flames.
The blaring wail of a siren blotted out these sounds; a strobing blue light made the scene vanish.
Aidan stumbled away from the blazing building. Black soot coated the insides of the museum windows, and there were more explosions of glass as the panes shattered. There was the crash of timber falling, sparks and leaping light.
A police car screeched to a stop near him and the door was flung open.
An officer got out. ‘What’s the story here, son?’
The rest all happened so fast. An ambulance arriving; a fire engine thundering along the drive, throwing up gravel like shrapnel; a medic looking Aidan over and giving him the all-clear. That same police officer in conversation with someone from the fire brigade; the two of them looking over in his direction.