Eden Chronicles Box Set Books 1-3

by James Erith

  Archie ducked under the bubbles and when he re-emerged he blew the water out of his mouth at Daisy. She retaliated by flicking water at him and a water fight developed, which was a welcome break from telling their awkward survival stories.

  But there was one thing Daisy wanted to know. ‘Archie, do you remember you said just before the storm broke – that it was going to come at us and wouldn’t stop until the sun went down? How did you know? I mean, that’s exactly what happened. All those thunderbolts came at us, didn’t they? And Isabella told us the heavy rain stopped just as the sun disappeared.’

  Isabella leant in. It had been playing on her mind too.

  Archie felt pretty uncomfortable. He didn’t want to start going into the detail of his dream let alone delve into the conversations he’d had with Cain and Kemp. Thinking about it made him go cold. How could he explain it without sounding like an idiot? Maybe he’d tell them later. He just wanted to eat something and go to sleep. He yawned. ‘I dunno,’ he said and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Just a hunch, I suppose. I’m starving.’

  ‘You’re hiding something, aren’t you, winkle?’

  ‘I hate it when you call me that,’ he said and splashed his twin with water.

  But the girls knew there was something he wasn’t telling them.

  OLD MAN WOOD LISTENED ATTENTIVELY, noting that they had survived direct strikes from lightning bolts. It was impossible – so how had they done it? He rubbed his chin; there must be something special about them – was this what his dreams were trying to tell him? And what was it about the awkwardness in Archie’s face – it was the same expression he’d seen when he handed him the coat. And what was it about the “Cain” person he’d called out for? He wondered if Archie would ever elaborate.

  He remembered the apples. ‘I’ve got just the thing,’ he announced, rummaging in his coat pocket. ‘You must be starving, so I took the liberty of bringing you something. Afterwards, it’d be a good idea to grab some rest. After all, we’ve still got to figure out how we’re going to get out of here.’

  Archie cupped some of the water. ‘The delicious water in here’s filled me up a bit,’ he said, ‘but a nice chocolate brownie – preferably with chocolate custard – would hit the spot.’

  ‘Or a huge plate of Peking duck pancakes with plum sauce, cucumber and spring onions,’ Daisy said.

  ‘Or a huge slice of banoffee pie, with thick cream,’ Isabella added, licking her lips.

  Old Man Wood pulled out the apples.

  He could see the disappointed looks on their faces. ‘Now, before you start complaining, these are my special apples, so make sure you eat the whole thing, understand. Pips and all. They’ll fill you up. Trust me. Don’t know why or how, but they will.’

  He threw an apple at each one of them. They all bit in hard and were rewarded with the taste of golden syrup, honey, apple pie and raspberries flooding their mouths. Delicious.

  The children pulled themselves out of the pit and wrung-out their tattered clothes. The cave was beautifully warm and their bodies – now devoid of cuts and bruises – quickly began to dry. From the multicoloured glow of the water, which seemed to generate its own light, the children searched the room for somewhere to lay their tired heads and bodies. It soon became evident that there were four ledges, like stone benches, off the floor, as though individually made for them.

  Daisy sat down heavily on the one in front of her and, in the next movement, she pulled her legs up so she was lying down. ‘This is lovely,’ she announced, scrunching her hand in the soft velvety texture. Daisy sank into it and, before long, she was snoring loudly.

  The others did the same, and they too experienced the extraordinary sensation of the warm silky powder, softer than feathers, that moulded perfectly around their bodies.

  Within moments, the Heirs of Eden and Old Man Wood were fast asleep.

  FORTY-THREE

  THE WALLS OF THE CAVE

  As the gentle colours of dawn rose up over the Vale of York, a thin, hazy light squeezed through the entrance of the cave. The children stirred.

  Isabella sat up, stretched her arms out wide and yawned. For a moment, her heart nearly missed a beat. Where was she? Her eyes darted around the room. The whole thing had been true. She rubbed her eyes, disappointed that the familiar beams across their bedroom and the curtain in front of her were only in her imagination.

  The events of the previous day came rushing back like a sudden chill. The terrible storm, the lightning. Crawling on her hands and knees. She inspected her skin. There were no blemishes at all – had the water cured them? Yes, that was right. It had done. Then she remembered her hands and saw the holes. She trembled. Did she really repel a lightning bolt with just her hands? She raised her hands to the mouth of the cave and her two holes radiated a beam of light. And when she thought about it, how had she guided them to the bridge through the extraordinary torrent, or scrambled up the bank? Magic? No, magic didn’t exist, it was all illusion – a sleight of hand here, a helping hand there. Perhaps it was her will and guts that had saved her. But even those qualities couldn’t repel thousands of volts passing straight through her and frying her to bits. And how could she explain the extraordinary healing powers of the well?

  A thrill passed through her as she tried to work it out, realising that whatever had occurred was either an enormous slice of luck, or more likely some new physics she wasn’t aware of. And as for the water, well, she was determined to take some samples back. It must have a combination of remarkable volcanic, organic, healing rock properties that were as yet unknown. She would be a scientific hero! She clapped her hands together. Yes. That was it; she would find out how it had been done using straightforward science as proof. She made a mental note to return with some beakers, and then she wondered whether her hands would contain particles in them that might help unlock this extraordinary secret.

  ISABELLA’S THOUGHTS were distracted by Archie, who stumbled off his rock, rubbed his face and then his hair. His look of puzzlement made Isabella laugh. ‘Your hair took on a new form, remember?’

  He grunted a response and headed to the pool, where he cupped his hands, took a draft of water and washed his face. ‘Don’t suppose there’s anything for breakfast?’

  ‘There’s another apple each,’ Old Man Wood said from the other side of the cave.

  Archie wandered over and sat next to Old Man Wood. He munched on the small apple, inadvertently allowing a dribble of the juice to spill out of the corner of his mouth. He wiped it off with his forearm.

  Archie stared at the wall, which was now lit up by the morning light. There were pictures all over it. What did they remind him of, Egyptian hieroglyphics? No, those were quite neat and tidy as far as he could remember. These were drawn in a neater, yet slightly disorderly way, in sections, like the Bayeux Tapestry featuring the battle of Hastings in 1066. As he studied them, he noted that the figures seemed to rise a little, proud of the surface – as though they’d been carved out.

  The images started from one side of the cave and went all the way round, dividing periodically. ‘Look!’ he said as he moved round to the left of the cave entrance. ‘Look at these cave-man paintings,’ he said out loud to anyone who might be listening. Old Man Wood joined him.

  The murals began with an image of a great tree, gleaming in gold, and round, like the earth. Its root system mirrored that of the branches above. Three people stood beneath it with what Archie thought might be crowns on their heads, or laurel wreaths, or something similar.

  In a nearby tree, a serpent twisted through the branches. Wow, cool. Next to them were some funny squiggles, like writing or smaller images, which he reckoned were slightly worn away. In the next section, these three people were laid out flat – perhaps sleeping – and from the sky, on what appeared to be a thin line, three boxes sat directly above each figure.

  In the first box was a simple image of an outline of hands and feet, the next box had ears and eyes, and the last image showed a lion a
nd a horse. OK, he thought, so that didn’t make much sense. He moved onto the next section. Here he could make out the distinct image of the sun. Following this were a whole load of dashes going vertically up and down like a blind. Within the dashes were strong, diagonal, forked lines aimed at the each of the three figures and at the end of this was a picture that showed the sun setting. At this point, the mural split, showing an upper level much higher up the wall above his head.

  On this level, the three figures lay crumpled on the ground. Beyond, the diagonal lines continued along steadily with occasional, thicker, forked lines mixed in. These diagonal lines ran around the room like a long and boring curtain. Archie followed it round until it reached a similarly-styled tree, although this time it was gnarled and dying. Crumbs. What did it mean?

  He returned to the setting sun. Adjacent to this was a new set of drawings that continued some of the way round the cave. The next picture was another puzzle. It looked like a room with a pool in the middle – like an old well – with a stream running into it. Three figures faced a stairway that headed up towards the sky. They carried gifts.

  Archie thought they were both fascinating and familiar. Suddenly his heartbeat quickened. He ran back to the image of the well with the figures in the bath. To the side he was sure he could make out another faint figure of a man. Like a thunderbolt crashing out of the sky, he remembered Cain’s words: The Prophecy of Eden. The lines must indicate the storm that would go on for forty days and forty nights if the Heirs of Eden did not make it to the sunset. Death and destruction was the outcome – as indicated by the dead tree. And after the sunset – the well – for the survivors.

  He stumbled back. The figures were THEM, exactly as Cain had said. What had he said, You are the anointed ones. Archie was so shocked he didn’t know what to say. He thought of Kemp, Kemp who had sacrificed himself for the chance that Archie could save them from the storm.

  And how close to failing had they come? A whisker, a heartbeat. Archie clammed up.

  Everything was real. EVERYTHING.

  DAISY STUDIED Archie moving around the room looking at the wall paintings. She saw him reel and his face turn pale. She wondered if he’d drunk too much of the water. Daisy yawned and made her way over to Old Man Wood who was transfixed by the artwork, staring at the pictures as though his eyes had got stuck. His eyes, she thought, were moist with tears. She leant on him like a lamppost, but still he didn’t move. She put her hand in his pocket, grabbed an apple and then moved around the room just as Archie had.

  ‘Look,’ Daisy said as she rejoined them. ‘It’s not so difficult to understand. It’s like reading a book – let me have a go.’

  Isabella groaned.

  ‘Are you comfortable, boys and girls?’ Daisy began and she grinned at the others. ‘Because now I’ll begin!

  ‘Once upon a time, there were three brave knights. They lived in a rich land where there were nice things to eat but there were also bad things like horrid snakes. They were lying in bed one day when,’ she stared at the wall, ‘when they realised they had some cool powers or something. Let’s look at the little pictures, shall we?’ she continued. ‘Now, one of them had big eyes and sticky out ears, one had big hands and large feet and the other liked animals, especially horses and lions. Ha! Still with me? Good.’

  She pulled Old Man Wood along with her to the next panel. ‘One day, the sun rose to the peak of the day, when out of the sky came loads and loads of arrows, like you can’t believe, with some fiery ones as well. When the sun went down the three knights either died and went to Hell where they kept on getting shot at, or they survived and their prize was to sit in a Jacuzzi, before going up to Heaven. End of chapter one!’ Daisy beamed at them.

  ‘In the next bit,’ she continued, ‘there are five pictures with clues on how to find three slabs of rock or books or something. If they find the first stone they move on to the second and if they don’t, they die.’ She walked on, talking as she went. ‘AND, when they find the second slab they lump it on top of the first – and it grows! If they don’t, they die. Cool. Then they have to find the third one and this time they face something even more gruesome ... ooh – I don’t like the look of that – and if successful they plonk it on top of the others and BANG! It opens up to this, like, whole other place that looks like the moon until they find this woman. And then ... OMG.’

  Daisy covered her face with her hands. Very softly she said, ‘It’s just like our dreams…’

  Archie and Isabella stared at her. Their faces were not smiling any more. Old Man Wood had gone white.

  ISABELLA WAS the first to break the silence. ‘Daisy,’ she said. ‘Nice story, but just for the record those are not arrows. Vertical or diagonal lines in ancient drawings generally indicate rain, or a storm—’

  Daisy sighed. ‘Yeah, I know. It’s called artistic licence.’

  ‘And Daisy,’ Archie said scrunching up his face, ‘where are we?’

  ‘In a cave, duh?’

  ‘And what kind of thing is in the middle of our cave?’

  ‘A hot tub-pit thing.’

  ‘Like a Jacuzzi? And what do you think we battled through yesterday—’

  ‘Yeah, look – I KNOW, OK. Calm your boots and stop being so patronising.’ Daisy shrugged her shoulders. ‘So it’s US – I knew that all along – the rain, the sunset, the hot tub. The dreams. The fact that I can hear stuff you guys can’t and that Isabella can repel lightning with her hands. And Archie has weird strength, pulling trees up like a horse and stuff. You must think I’m completely stupid or something.’

  Archie was speechless, Daisy was saying exactly what he’d been thinking.

  BUT ISABELLA WAS HAVING none of it. ‘So you think we’re special, do you?’ she said, pulling herself together, ‘with magical powers, huh – like wizards or witches? What utter twaddle! The sooner you get this nonsense out of your head the better. The fact that we survived the storm is down to luck. Pure and simple L – U – C – K.’ She spat it out, letter by letter. ‘The fact that you can hear stuff like lightning forming is possibly a freak acoustic issue with your eardrum that belongs to you and you alone, probably from heading a football too much, Daisy—’

  ‘Heading? I don’t really do heading—’

  ‘Yes you do! Of course you do! And the fact that the lightning hit my hands must be an oddity of particle dynamics which can, and will, be explained. Archie’s strength was ... was pure determination – anyone could and would have done it in his circumstances. The cave here is, is, is a fluke, left over from Neolithic times. These … these cave-paintings, these stupid scribbles must be—’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Bells,’ Archie replied shaking his head. ‘What about the healing water?’

  ‘Easy. It’s crammed full of a complex blend of minerals and volcanic dusts with as yet unknown healing properties.’

  ‘And Archie’s hair?’ Daisy added.

  Isabella hesitated. ‘Science can almost certainly answer that too. Probably something to do with the molecular properties of Archie’s hair, the chemicals in his hair and the amount of product he uses in relation to the electrical charge he received.’

  ‘But I don’t have any hair gel—’

  ‘Yes you do!’ stormed Isabella, tears forming in her eyes.

  ‘Actually, Daisy stole it, didn’t you?’

  Daisy nodded.

  ‘It HAS to be explained rationally!’ Isabella yelled. ‘These things do not just happen!’

  ‘Look,’ Archie continued as nicely as he could, ‘I don’t know how it works, but you dreamt about the rain and the storm, didn’t you, Bells? You – more than anyone – knew it was coming. And, when we get home, we’ll probably be the only ones who’ve survived. YOU were right after all.’

  Isabella crumpled to the floor. ‘Sue!’ she cried. ‘Oh no! I wonder what’s happened to her?’ She thumped the floor and burst into tears. ‘I can’t believe any of this – none of it’s true, even though it … is.’

&
nbsp; Daisy knelt down and draped a comforting arm over Isabella’s shoulder. ‘Look, if it’s any consolation, sis, there’s every chance that there’s a scientific explanation for these things. But science measures things that are known or tries to prove things that are unknown through things that are known, in order to rationally prove they exist. It can’t prove things that aren’t understood, can it?’

  ‘Blimey, when did you turn into a boffin?’ Archie quipped.

  ‘Shut up, Archie,’ the girls said in unison.

  ‘One way or another, we’re going to figure out what’s going on, coincidence or not,’ Daisy continued, and she gave her sister a kiss on the cheek. ‘OK?’

  Isabella wiped her nose and hugged her. ‘I never thought you could be so clever, Daisy.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ Daisy replied. ‘I made it up – to make you feel better.’

  Isabella looked up at her sister not entirely sure whether to bash her or not. She frowned. ‘Daisy, your eyes ... I mean …’

  Daisy felt a little self-conscious as the others stared at her face. ‘What?’ she said, blushing.

  ‘Did you get some water in your eyes?’ Archie whispered.

  ‘No, they’re fine. What’s the big deal?’

  ‘Maybe it’s a trick of the light,’ Isabella said to Archie. He nodded. ‘Come over to the cave entrance a mo. Old Man Wood, you need to see this.’

  They marched Daisy over to the entrance, where the light was stronger.

  Archie whistled.

  ‘WHAT IS IT?’ Daisy cried, flummoxed by all the attention.

  ‘Your eyes have gone … odd,’ Archie said.

  ‘ODD?’

  ‘Yeah, red like a vampire.’

  ‘Red? Don’t be daft. Of course they haven’t. They’re fine.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Isabella added. ‘Actually it’s more like a kind of ruddy pink.’