by Steve Voake
Special thanks to Ed Jaspers for advice, faith and alchemy…
Steve Voake
Author Biography
STEVE VOAKE is the former headmaster of a boys’ school in Somerset, England, and has been featured in People magazine for his fundraising efforts. The Dreamwalker’s Child is his first book for young readers.
THE WEB OF FIRE
Also by Steve Voake
The Dreamwalker’s Child
THE WEB OF FIRE
STEVE VOAKE
For my mother and father
Vahlzi: A city situated west of the Great Plains of Aurobon, occupied by Vermian forces. Resistance led by General Firebrand.
Vermia: A city situated east of the Great Plains of Aurobon, ruled by the Emperor Odoursin.
THE WEB OF FIRE
Prologue
The huge black fly swooped low over the mountain ridge and Commander Firebrand just had time to throw himself behind a rock before the hideous insect swept past his hiding place with a loud buzz, the wind from its wings stirring up a flurry of ice and snow in its wake.
Watching it disappear into the shadows, Firebrand shivered and knew that it wouldn’t be long before they found him.
In the distance, a pall of thick black smoke hung above the city of Vahlzi and he could see the orange glow of fires raging through its streets and suburbs. The dark shapes of gigantic insects swarmed through the night sky and the thick, irregular pulse of explosions shook the ground beneath his feet.
Firebrand shut his eyes and steadied himself against a rock for a few seconds. Then, as if to place a physical barrier between himself and the horrors he had so recently witnessed, he walked the last few steps up the mountain, crossed the ridge and disappeared from view.
Later that night, as he stood before the lake that lay in the hollow palm of the mountain, he looked across its sullen, stone-black surface and heard the whisper of secrets that were hidden like pearls in its fathomless depths.
Looking up at the stars, Firebrand realised that the chill he felt inside was not only from the cold night air. It was a deeper, all-pervading chill; a dead, lifeless despair born of the knowledge that the years of hope and freedom had passed away for ever. He thought of Sam and Skipper – his beloved Skipper – and of all the other good people who had been lost in the fight. And for what?
Firebrand opened his fingers and felt the weight of the blue stone that lay bright and strange in the palm of his hand. He had discovered it yesterday in the rubble and retrieved it before the Vermian soldiers could destroy it along with everything else.
It was – without doubt – the most beautiful, exquisite stone he had ever seen. Lit only by starlight, it sparkled and shimmered a summer-sky blue and there – deep within its heart – Firebrand could see twisting, smoke-like columns of azure and aquamarine.
The Earthstone.
Firebrand shivered and looked up at the darkening sky, remembering his father’s words from years before.
‘I know the Earthstone is buried somewhere within it,’ he had told him as they stood beneath the Foundation Stone. ‘Even though I cannot see it, I know it exists. I can feel it in my heart.’
He had told Firebrand the story of how the Earth-stone had been given to the Olumnus people by Salus, the Guardian of Worlds. It was a gift to show his love for both worlds – for Earth and for Aurobon – a promise that he would always look after them. The Olumnus had made it their greatest treasure and built the Foundation Stone around it to protect it.
‘Your faith must be like the Foundation Stone,’ his father had said. ‘It must be strong enough to shield your heart from the storms that will try and destroy it. If your faith should crumble, then your heart will be lost.’
But as Firebrand stared down at the blue shining beauty of the stone in his hand, it seemed to him in that moment that he had been deceived all of his life.
The Foundation Stone had been destroyed and Vahlzi lay in ruins. The things he had believed in, the things that had seemed so precious and valuable, all of them had fallen and shattered before his eyes. His faith had brought nothing but death and destruction to Aurobon.
And so it was that he stood alone on the empty shore and, with a bitter cry of despair, flung the Earthstone into the middle of the lake.
The stone seemed to hang in the air for a single, glittering moment before it fell with a splash and disappeared beneath the water’s surface. For a heartbeat there was only darkness and silence. Then from the depths of the lake came a pulse of brilliant blue light so intense that Firebrand fell to his knees and covered his face with his hands. The earth trembled and shook, then was still.
When Firebrand finally lowered his hands, all that remained was a shimmering phosphorescence upon the water; a million tiny particles of blue light that sparkled and shone before sinking beneath the surface and fading like stars into the darkness below.
Firebrand stared out across the lake and shivered. He noticed that the night air was suddenly filled with a flurry of grey and realised, to his surprise, that it was snowing.
‘What have I done?’ he whispered. ‘What have I done?’
But his words were taken by the wind and lost among the snowflakes and the distant thunder of water falling upon stone.
Skipping beneath the boughs of ancient beech trees, the little blonde girl watched her red shoes dance over frosted leaves and listened to the music of the wind as it sang to her from the treetops. She saw how the branches scratched at the grey clouds with their twisted fingers and as the first snowflakes began to fall she smiled and turned her face towards the sky.
Life was new and strange, and the days and years lay ahead of her like fields of fresh snow, awaiting her tiny footprints.
She left the path and squeezed through gaps in the thick, shiny green rhododendron bushes, emerging at last onto a grassy verge at the water’s edge. Snow fell all around her and from the woods she could hear the sound of voices calling to her.
She smiled.
‘Look!’ she said, pointing happily. ‘Pretty!’
Then, clapping her yellow mittens together in excitement, she stepped out onto the ice.
Up ahead of her, something fluttered and danced above the surface of the frozen lake, and she slipped over several times in her efforts to catch up with it. But in spite of her young age she was a very determined little girl, and it wasn’t long before she reached the centre of the lake. There she stood all alone, a tiny figure in red shoes with the snow falling all around her.
Of course, anyone who knew anything at all about the world would have found it curious to see a small blue butterfly in the middle of winter. But the little girl was new to the world and all she knew was that it was beautiful, and that she wanted it more than anything.
She knelt down and reached out her hand. The voices were closer now, shouting to her.
She looked up and waved.
‘Look!’ she cried. ‘See!’
Then the ice cracked and the butterfly flew away.
One
General Martock stood in the silence of the Outer Chamber and glanced up at the clock on the wall.
Three minutes to seven.
Walking across to the window, he stared at the snow that lay in thick drifts across the lawn of the Emperor Odoursin’s Palace. A bronze statue of Odoursin gleamed in the pale morning sunshine and beyond it Martock could make out the icy fingers of a waterfall, crystallised in time above a frozen, artificial lake. In the distance, a tall, emerald-green tower stood out against the winter sky while below the streets of Vermia shivered and stirred beneath a blanket of ice and snow.
Turning away from the window, Martock glanced around at the gold lamps, the ornate chandeliers and the floors constructed from the finest marble, plundered from the tombs of Vahlzian graveyards. There had been no expense spared, and Martock had been a strong supporter of the palace’s lavish construction, arguing that it was a visual symbol of the Emperor’s power. But over the last few months he had begun
to dread coming here.
Odoursin was becoming dangerously unpredictable.
Only last week he had ordered the execution of one of his most loyal ministers, accusing him of being a traitor. Nothing was further from the truth, but once Odoursin got an idea into his head, there was no point in arguing. Just the other day, Martock had made the mistake of disagreeing with the Emperor on some small matter of policy and he had lain awake afterwards in a cold sweat, waiting for the knock on the door in the middle of the night.
It had been four years since Vermia’s failed attempt to infect the humans on Earth with a deadly virus. Vahlzian forces had foiled their plan, attacking Vermian mosquito squadrons and destroying all remaining stocks of the deadly virus, both here and on Earth.
But Odoursin had been resourceful. Together with his generals and the cream of his fighting force, he had retreated underground into an intricate network of tunnels, bunkers and laboratories that lay hidden beneath the streets of Vermia. As Vahlzian soldiers searched the alleyways above, Odoursin and his men had bided their time, listening, watching and plotting their next move. Odoursin had known that, despite this humiliating setback, his scientists were busy developing a range of deadly new weapons.
A year later, just as Vahlzian forces were beginning to relax and drop their guard, the long-awaited breakthrough came.
A new, powerful generation of insects had been created and they were ready to attack.
On a dark, moonless night when the streets of Vermia lay silent beneath a heavy snowfall, the creatures came creeping from their holes and burrows. Giant robber flies took to the skies and began hunting down Vahlzian wasp squadrons with ruthless efficiency, seizing their victims from above, piercing their bodies with a needle-sharp proboscis and sucking the life out of them. Ambush and assassin bugs moved rapidly out of the northern deserts to attack ant and wasp formations on the ground while bombardier beetles, fire ants and huge tarantula spiders swept through the streets and alleyways to engage the enemy wherever they found them.
The Vahlzian forces were taken completely by surprise. Unprepared for an attack of such speed and ferocity, they were overwhelmed in a matter of weeks. The Vermian armies moved in to occupy the once great city ofVahlzi and began to exact a terrible revenge upon its inhabitants. Those who were not killed immediately were forced to flee into the mountains as their comfortable homes and quiet suburban neighbourhoods were torn apart around them. Thousands were either sent back east to the slave labour camps or simply never seen or heard of again.
From a military point of view, it had all been a tremendous success.
But Odoursin wasn’t happy, and Martock knew why.
Odoursin had never forgiven the people of Earth for causing the wasp crash which had killed his brother and left him with terrible burns. He saw them as selfish parasites, responsible for the desecration of their world. Since his attempt to destroy human life on Earth had been thwarted by the Vahlzian attack four years ago, his rage and frustration had known no bounds. And now that Odoursin had Vahlzi beaten, his obsession with the destruction of humanity was total.
He wanted revenge.
All of which left Martock with a big problem.
The problem being that, with all traces of the original virus destroyed, no one could figure out a way to do it.
‘His Excellency will see you now,’ said the middle-aged woman with her hair scraped back in a tight bun, gesturing toward the double oak doors from which she had just emerged carrying a small brown medical bag.
‘Thank you,’ said Martock, wondering whether she derived any enjoyment from being nursemaid to the most feared man in Aurobon. Looking at her sour little face he decided, on reflection, that it was probably right up her street.
‘This will not do, General. Do you understand me?’ Odoursin’s eyes flashed threateningly. ‘It is not acceptable.’
Martock peered through the gloom and saw the burned, twisted face of his Emperor glaring back at him with a look of determination that bordered upon madness. The fact that the curtains were closed and the only light came from a dull, orange wall lamp merely added to Martock’s discomfort.
‘I understand, Your Excellency. I am sure that we are very close to finding a solution to the problem. It can only be a matter of time before –’
‘Do not patronise me, General,’ hissed Odoursin, his lips flecked with foam. ‘Do you take me for a fool?’
‘Of course not, Your Excellency,’ replied Martock hurriedly. ‘It is just that the solution is proving more complex than we had imagined.’
He swallowed nervously. ‘I am afraid the search for a new virus powerful enough to destroy the human inhabitants of Earth has – so far – been unsuccessful. We have been unable to find anything virulent enough to pose any real threat.’
Martock felt the intensity of Odoursin’s rage as the cold eyes regarded him from their sunken, skeletal sockets. Then Odoursin rose from his seat and moved slowly and deliberately towards Martock, his voice becoming harder and angrier as he spoke.
‘Have you forgotten the prophecy, General? Am I not the Great One who shall save the Earth from its human parasites? Are you trying to tell me that the prophecy is false? Is that what you are telling me, General?’
‘No, n-no, Your Excellency,’ stammered Martock nervously, suddenly afraid for his life. ‘I am just saying that perhaps we need to find another way!’
At this, Odoursin stopped in his tracks, clasping his bony hands together in front of him. Focusing his gaze upon Martock he began to sway almost imperceptibly back and forth, like a praying mantis about to strike.
‘Is there another way?’ whispered Odoursin.
‘I am certain that there is,’ replied Martock. ‘I know we can do this.’
Odoursin nodded.
‘Very well,’ he said at last. ‘I will give you a month.’
Two
The last bubbles of oxygen trickled from the boy’s mouth as he tumbled through liquid darkness, falling away from the light that was already fading behind him. As the warmth seeped out of him and the freezing water poured into his lungs he no longer knew where he stopped and the water began. And finally, when the light was gone and it was finished, he understood nothing and everything, and saw all at once how he was forever lost and it was the beginning. And then he was cold and awake, and it was morning.
He opened his eyes and saw ice crystals frozen on a pebble. He thought that he had never seen anything so beautiful. Blinking, he got unsteadily to his feet and saw the blanket of snow that covered the rocks and stones all the way to the edge of the lake. Clouds heavy with snow hung from a winter sky above him and he watched their bruised, grey reflections move silently across the face of the water.
He was surrounded on all sides by thickly wooded, mountain slopes which rose steeply from the rocky shore. The branches of trees were bent low under the weight of snow which had fallen during the night. The boy began to shiver violently in the cold wind and his teeth chattered so loudly that he failed to notice the approaching figure until he was standing right in front of him.
The man was dressed in a thick woollen robe and his long, dark hair was woven with coloured threads. He carried two more robes and as he held one out in front of him, the boy saw that his eyes were full of kindness.
‘You have been cold for long enough,’ he said. ‘It is time that you were warm again.’
He slipped the robe over the boy’s head and the boy immediately felt warmer as the soft fur lining enveloped his skin. But as he looked around at the lake and the snow-covered mountains, he felt lost, like a boat adrift in an endless sea.
‘Please,’ he said softly. ‘I am so afraid.’
The man put a hand on his shoulder. ‘It will be difficult at the beginning. But there are others here who will help you, Sam. You must find them quickly.’
When the boy heard this, something stirred in his memory and his eyes widened. He looked up hopefully at the man and asked, ‘Is that my name? Sam?’
The man nodded and smiled. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That is your name.’ He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder.
‘And there will be many in Aurobon who will be glad to hear it once more.’
A light snow was falling, drifting from the sky above Vahlzi and settling on the rubble that was strewn across its empty streets. The occasional crack-crack-crack of gunfire suggested groups of Vahlzian Resistance fighters were still engaging the enemy on the east side of the city, but otherwise the streets were eerily quiet.
A Vermian soldier picked his way cautiously through the debris, nervously scanning the blackened ruins for signs of life. As his boots disturbed a sheet of corrugated iron there was a flurry of brown and he swung his rifle around to see a large rat darting away across the stones. Swearing under his breath, he kicked at the rusty metal before resuming his slow progress over the bricks, nervously training his rifle upon each doorway as he passed. When he finally disappeared around the corner, there was silence for a moment, followed by a faint scraping sound and then the strip of rusty corrugated iron began – very slowly – to move. Below it, the face of a young man was just visible, his anxious expression framed by a straggle of dark, shoulder-length hair.
‘We have got to get out of here, Mump,’ said Zip, lifting the sheet of metal just enough to peer out from his hiding place at the street above. From behind him there came a loud clang, followed by a yelp of pain.
‘For goodness sake keep it down!’ he hissed as the air was filled with loud, angry curses. ‘If anyone spots us, we’re dead meat!’