by James Erith
44
Chapter 1 - Spider Web Powder
EDEN CHRONICLES II - BONUS!

Daisy popped her head around the entrance of the hidden doorway. ‘Oh for goodness’ sake,’ she eventually yelled out. ‘I’ve been up and down about a thousand stairs. It really isn’t hard to find—’
‘I don’t have weird eyes like you, remember,’ Archie shot back. ‘Only stupid, spiky hair.’
Daisy ignored him. ‘Look, it’s over here!’ She beckoned them to a tiny, almost invisible, gap that looked identical to the cave wall from all angles. ‘Clever, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘It’s recessed so that when you squeeze through, you have to turn sharply, like this.’
‘Oh!’ Archie said, as his fingers found the entrance and he eased himself in. ‘It’s a bit tight.’
‘Just mind your head,’ Daisy quipped, ‘or you’ll damage the walls. Anyway, there’s a far bigger problem at the top.’
Archie shot her a look.
‘You’ll have to wait and see – if you’re fit enough,’ she said. ‘It’s miles up and up and up. Prepare to be disappointed.’
Old Man Wood’s frown grew until the furrows appeared almost black and white. ‘How am I supposed to get in there?’ he complained. ‘And what about my things?’
The children could see his point. The opening was wide enough for them, but tight for a large man like Old Man Wood.
‘Crawl – on your side – you should be able to make it,’ Daisy said, trying to be helpful.
Old Man Wood continued to stare at the gap. He was an old man, not a bendy child.
Isabella reappeared through the small slit in the wall and held out a hand. ‘Your hard hat,’ she said to the old man. ‘Archie, as you’re the smallest, grab his rucksack. Come on, let’s go, I can’t wait to get out of this ridiculous place.’
Isabella hadn’t told the whole truth. The moment she woke, an unnerving sensation, as though she were being watched, made the hairs on her neck stand erect and her brow damp with fear. She connected the sensation to her nightmares in which large, green, alien eyes penetrated her mind and this queer feeling grew stronger and stronger until she’d woken up terrified and shaking and soaked in sweat.
Isabella tried to calm down by taking deep breaths, but her body sagged like a sack of potatoes and her brain felt like squishy dough. Perhaps this was the aftershock of surviving the great storm. Did the others feel the same?
Her thoughts turned to the twins. They had landed on the stone ledge at death’s door; unconscious, frozen and lacerated with cuts that sliced into their bodies like whip lashes. Their recovery in the pool was nothing short of miraculous and, in the cool light of morning, Isabella wondered if the whole thing had been part of another nightmare. Or, could it be the downside of the powerful medicine Old Man Wood had given her? What did he call it, Resplendix Mix? A gold, sparkly liquid in a curious old bottle that didn’t have a lid – or a use-by date. She’d taken just two drops on her tongue. And boy did it hurt – like rolling around in stinging nettles on the outside with burning hot coals inside.
Medicines that instantly healed didn’t exist in the real world – or did they? But she did know that the trade-off with a powerful medicine was often a horrible side-effect. Perhaps this was what she was experiencing.
The children wound their way up and up the dark stairs, each foot feeling for the narrow risers, their feet scuffing like sandpaper. After several minutes, Isabella stopped and held her sides. ‘Phew!’ she said. ‘This is exhausting.’
‘You are seriously unfit, Bells,’ Daisy said.
‘Actually, I’m seriously hungry and freaked, OK? And I just want to get out of here.’ Her heart thumped. ‘It’s like the whole of yesterday was some kind of weird, crappy dream – as if we were stuck in a game where we had to stay alive—’
‘Yeah,’ Daisy said. ‘But at least we survived.’
Isabella rested a hand on her sister’s shoulder. ‘I know. That’s what’s so crazy. You actually sort of died, Daisy. Did you know that?’
Daisy leant her head casually on the tight riser above her. ‘Can’t remember much.’
‘Lucky you,’ Isabella said as she recalled how Daisy had lain on the rocks, her body limp, her face deathly pale, her eyes shut. When Old Man Wood couldn’t feel a pulse, a kind of anger had filled her and she’d screamed at Daisy with all her might not to die. And then a strange thing had happened …
‘I thought it was Old Man Wood’s medicine,’ Daisy said. ‘You know, Repulsive Mix, or whatever—’
‘He calls it Resplendix Mix,’ Isabella said. ‘For some reason it wouldn’t work on you.’ She turned to Archie. ‘What about you, Arch? Do you remember anything?’
Archie thought for a minute. ‘Think I got fried—’
Daisy burst out laughing, the sound bouncing off the walls of the stairwell and echoing eerily back at them. ‘Yup, you sure did, bro. And landed unbelievably weird hair—’
‘Archie’s hair isn’t remotely funny,’ Isabella snapped. ‘Nor are your red eyes or my hands.’
Daisy scowled back. ‘Who said it was funny? I just said it was odd.’
‘Well yes, very odd,’ Isabella agreed. ‘You know, Daisy, when you told us the lightning bolts were coming, did you really hear them or were you making it up?’
‘Of course I heard them,’ Daisy said crossly.
Isabella twisted round a sharp edge and perched on a step. ‘Well, it’s illogical,’ she said. ‘This whole thing. Water poured from the sky at a velocity far greater than Sue and I calculated – I’m convinced of it.’ Isabella sucked in a huge breath. ‘And we couldn’t see, or hear, anything, could we?’ They climbed on, their footsteps almost in time. ‘I still don’t know how I guided us across the playing field to the bridge.’ she said. ‘Just imagine the devastating scene out there.’ No one answered.
‘Well, let’s say the river is fifteen metres above sea level,’ she continued, ‘and we had five hours of water at a couple of inches of rain per minute. That’s nearly ten metres of water – then augment that with water pouring off the hills and the spring tide and lunar situation ...’ Isabella frowned and her voice dropped. ‘It’ll be underwater,’ she continued, ‘totally submerged. Only the top of York Minister—’
‘Can we please get on?’ Daisy interrupted. ‘I want to go home, Bells.’
The children shuffled on, picking their steps carefully as Isabella continued. ‘You know, I shouldn’t have been able to swim against the water that swept me off the bridge, and I escaped a mudslide,’ she said. ‘Something egged me on. Perhaps that’s what having “spirit” means.’ She looked up at the climb ahead. ‘Blimey. These stairs go on forever.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Daisy said. ‘I’ve already done it once.’
‘But you’re fit—’
‘Bells, stop gabbling on with theories about our great escape, and keep climbing,’ Daisy said, as she pushed her sister ahead. ‘Seriously, this is just the start.’
At long last, they emerged out of the top of the narrow stone stairwell and into a dimly lit cavern. Beams of light filtered through tiny, random holes in a large, circular pattern at the far end of the cave, around twenty paces away.
As the children caught their breath, their eyes searched the chamber. Beneath them lay a smooth, gently undulating rock floor that gave way every now and then to a patch of mud or a pool, formed from water dripping from the ceiling, which echoed in the quiet.
From the cavern roof, which was as high as a small house, jagged rocks forced their way out of the stone like misshapen teeth. Along the sides, water had shaped the rock into small alcoves creating, Archie thought, mini sleeping areas. Perhaps early humans, like Neanderthals, had lived and slept here thousands of years ago.
‘See the problem?’ Daisy said.
Now, as their eyes had adjusted, they stared at a vast boulder whose rotund expanse sat in the ground like a massive egg in a massive eggcup. The problem was ob
vious; they were stuck, with no way out.
A deep boom echoed up the stairwell.
‘What on earth was that?’ Isabella said.
Archie turned to his twin, Daisy, and raised his brows. ‘Fifty pounds he’s stuck.’
‘You don’t even have fifty quid,’ Daisy said.
They hurried back to the hole.
‘Are you alright?’ Archie called down.
A few moments later an echo returned, the sounds crashing into one another.
‘I’ll go,’ Archie said, heading down. After a couple of minutes, encased in the musty darkness of the stairwell, he slowed. ‘Where – are – you?’
‘Still – at – the – bottom,’ the old man replied, taking in to account the reverberating noise. ‘Jammed – in, good – and – proper.’
Old Man Wood lay half up the stairs and half wedged in at the foot of the stairs. Sweet apples alive, he thought as he ran his leathery hands over the walls, trying to find a nodule to grip so that he could push himself back down and out. He groaned. The problem was that the more he struggled the more stuck he became.
If he could get back down – and it was a big “if” – he had no choice but to head out into the swirling waters thick with flotsam and jetsam, and swim for his life. And Old Man Wood hated swimming.
He wriggled his torso, twisting one way then another and managed to slip down a step. His outstretched foot touched a protruding stone knob and, using it to lever himself round, he pressed down hard – only to feel the stone retract into the step.
Before he had time to gather himself, a clunking noise filled the stairwell, followed by grinding, crunching and crushing sounds. Old Man Wood covered his head with his free arm, waiting for the inevitable rocks to come crashing down.
None came and, much to his astonishment, the stairwell walls began to pull back until a crashing boom sounded and the noise echoed eerily until eventually it ceased. The stairwell was now at least a foot wider.
Well, well, well, he thought as he sat down on a step and mopped his brow. That stone must have been a gear cog slipping into place. Now there’s a nifty bit of engineering – and just in the nick of time. What sort of person would design something like that? And why?
Old Man Wood dusted himself down, pulled himself together and stood up.
‘What’s – going – on – down – there?’ he heard.
‘Don’t – you – worry,’ Old Man Wood said. ‘I’m coming up, littluns! Nothing doing!’
He trundled up the stairwell, finding a rhythm, stopping on three occasions to catch his breath. At the summit he sat down, taking large gulps of air as the children gathered around. ‘Two hundred and twenty-two steps. Phew-ee! Apples alive! And they’re high steps and all.’
‘What happened?’ Archie asked him. ‘How did you get the stairs to widen?’
Old Man Wood wiped his brow. ‘Touched a lucky stone, that’s all.’
‘A lucky stone?’ Isabella repeated.
‘Ooh yes,’ Old Man Wood replied. ‘Very lucky, I reckon.’
Isabella leant on the boulder at the entrance of the cave and groaned. It was huge – six feet high and eight feet wide with a significant amount stuck in the ground – and it stood between them and freedom.
Stains marked the boulder’s surface with streaky patterns where the rainwater had leached down – the light grey stone now lined with blue and black hues.
How on earth were they going to move it? she wondered. Maybe it was one of those things that only needed a tiny push. Isabella stepped back a couple of paces and charged.
A moment later she shrieked and rubbed her shoulder.
Daisy laughed. ‘I told you—’
‘Shut up, Daisy,’ Isabella barked. She swivelled towards Old Man Wood. ‘You’re good at getting out of things, aren’t you, Old Man Wood?’ she said, as if he might solve the conundrum for them. And then she turned, gritted her teeth and tried to push the boulder again.
Archie could hardly believe it. ‘What are you doing? That’s up there with the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen. Not even Daisy would try something as moronic as that.’
Daisy nodded.
‘I know,’ Isabella sobbed. ‘It’s just that … just that I’m hungry and I want to go home and I want to know if Sue and Gus survived and … this is so ridiculous and unfair and infuriating after everything we’ve been through.’
‘But running at it isn’t going to help,’ Archie said quietly. ‘Think about it. That boulder must weigh more than ten tonnes. You are a fraction in comparison. You’re the scientist – do the maths.’
Isabella frowned, sat down and let her straight brown hair fall over her face, hiding her tears.
Archie began pacing the floor as an idea formed in his mind. He turned to Old Man Wood. ‘You said you touched a lucky stone. Was it a lever or a knob – did you push it in, pull it, or did it fall to the side?’
Old Man Wood thought for a second. ‘Pushed it with my foot. A chunk of rock, like a lever, I suppose—’
‘Well then, if one opened the stairs up, why not another to loosen the boulder?’
Isabella looked at him curiously. ‘You really think so?’
Archie shrugged. ‘We haven’t got much else to work with, have we, unless you’ve got a better idea? Whatever this place is, it’s been designed by someone pretty clever – so chances are that he built more than one. What do you think?’
The others shrugged.
‘I suggest we start hunting for odd pieces of rock that stick out—’
‘Stick out?’ Isabella said.
‘Yeah, you know – like you see in the movies.’
‘Cool,’ Daisy added, as she un-twiddled a blond curl from her finger.
They selected different parts of the cave and applied weight to rocks that stuck out and pushed every little cavity. But nothing worked. Not a wobble, a flicker, or a nudge. The big boulder remained exactly where it was.
Daisy slumped to the floor, defeated. How long had they been searching in the gloom? An hour? Two? Her tummy rumbled. ‘This is nuts,’ she said. ‘Whatever we’re looking for isn’t here, I’m sure of it.’
‘Well, what do you suggest?’ Archie said.
‘What if Isabella has a point,’ she replied. ‘Maybe we should all try and push it out of the way. Who knows, it may be hinged—’
‘Hinged?’ Archie said. ‘Hinged! Doors are hinged, Daisy, not blooming great boulders.’
Daisy shot him a piercing look. ‘But we haven’t tried it and anyway you pulled a tree out of the ground so who says you can’t move a boulder?’
‘Well I can’t, and anyway that was ridiculous.’
‘No it wasn’t.’
‘Yes it was! It’s like saying that Isabella could move it with her hands.’
‘Well maybe she can—’
‘I didn’t mean that—’
‘Stop it you two,’ Isabella ordered. ‘We need to think, work it out logically.’
Aside from the trickle of water, silence filled the large cavern as the four of them sat down on the stone floor and racked their brains.
‘OK,’ Archie said eventually. ‘Let’s try. All four of us—’
Isabella wasn’t convinced and rubbed her shoulder. ‘It’s huge, Archie, you said it yourself.’
Archie shrugged. ‘I’ve got nothing better to do, don’t know about you.’
Archie walked over to the mouth of the cave and stood in front of the round, grey bulk. ‘Well, come on – or do I have to do it on my own?’
Reluctantly, the others joined him.
Old Man Wood and Archie took up central positions with Isabella and Daisy on either flank.
Archie counted them in. ‘On the count of three. One, two … three!’
They heaved until their faces were puce, but the boulder didn’t budge.
They fell to the floor.
‘Anyone want to try again?’ Archie said. They shook their heads. Just as Isabella said, the attempt was hopeless.
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Moments later, Daisy spoke up. ‘Oooh. I’ve got an idea,’ she said, and she ran the length of the cavern. ‘Back in a mo,’ she yelled behind her as she disappeared down the dark stairwell, her footsteps echoing behind her.
Archie stood up as though he understood what Daisy had been thinking. ‘Old Man Wood – where were you when you touched this “lucky stone”?’
‘Now then,’ the old man began. ‘I hadn’t got very far. First steps I reckon—’
‘That’s it!’ Archie cried. ‘We’re looking in the wrong place! The clue must be on the walls in the chamber, down there – not up here.’
And without hesitating he shot off down the stairwell after his twin sister.
45
Chapter 2 - Spider Web Powder
EDEN CHRONICLES II - BONUS!
When Archie appeared, Daisy was studying the paintings on the walls. Her lips moved as if she could read the story like a book, her eyes fixed in concentration as she scoured the simple artwork. Occasionally, she moved in to dust off the image or icon, then she’d step back and take in the whole scene. Archie was fascinated by her intensity, and followed her eyes which shone as though a bright red light had been switched on inside her head.
The first section of the mural began with a circular tree and ended with figures carrying gifts. Then, the mural divided into two and kept dividing as the story progressed around the walls.
Above, and running the length of the mural, was a storm, depicted by jagged lightning bolts and strong lines for heavy rain. This concluded with mountain peaks poking through water. Archie gulped.
Below this “storm mural” stood three figures in front of a setting sun and directly above them the rain lines were less dynamic. Archie instantly recognised this, for when the sun went down the night before, or so he’d been told by Isabella, the torrential rain that had sluiced from the sky abated to no more than a drizzle.