Eden Chronicles Box Set Books 1-3

by James Erith

  Cain suddenly realised that this information answered the question the boy had posed when he’d told him he had to save his mother – because he’d never known his own mother.

  In the next second, Kemp’s father reached into the ashen body, his body following.

  Shortly, he flew out and settled over it. ‘What have you done to him?’ he roared. ‘He is a child. His body is poisoned and burned almost to death. It is fortunate he is strong.’

  Cain kept calm. ‘Be assured, I did not mean to harm him. The boy means more to me than you know.’

  The ghost snivelled. ‘If this is true, you have only one option. Return him to Earth where they can nurse and nourish him. Can you do this?’

  ‘I will try,’ Cain said.

  ‘There is little time,’ the ghost said. ‘The alternative is that he comes with us.’

  ‘Should he go to his mother’s side?’

  The ghost shot into the air and swirled around before floating down. ‘No. She may reject him. She does not recall ever having a son. Her mind was damaged in the car crash. And he is too sick.’

  ‘Then where shall I leave him?’

  ‘Somewhere he will be found and helped.’

  ‘And there is no one else?’ Cain asked.

  Kemp’s father swayed one way and then the other, like a flag being waved, testing the vibrations. ‘His friends will have the answers,’ Kemp’s father said as he drifted away as though on a breeze. ‘His friends,’ he repeated as he spiralled higher and higher and eventually away through the ceiling.

  Cain watched him go. Spirits were a curious lot, but they did generally have their bloodline’s best interests at the top of their limited agenda.

  Cain mulled over the ghost’s words. Was he referring to that confounded Archie de Lowe as the boy’s best friend? Cain could hardly bear to think about the de Lowes. He’d come so close to having Archie, with his power, within his grasp. The Heirs of Eden, children, surviving the great storm by the skin of their teeth. It was preposterous. But Cain knew that the prophecy demanded a great deal more; finding the three Tablets of Eden was an altogether different matter.

  ‘DREAMSPINNER, DREAMSPINNER, DREAMSPINNER.’ Cain shouted.

  A second later and Asgard the dreamspinner appeared, long, slender slivers of legs dancing by his silvery, opaque body and the blue maghole of lightning burning in his middle in place of an abdomen.

  ‘Ah-ha, my ugly dreamspinner friend,’ Cain began. ‘It appears I am within the dying body of a boy.’

  Asgard walked on his eight legs across the air as if treading on an invisible grid. ‘Then you must return him.’

  ‘Yes,’ Cain said, ‘but how can our plan work if there is no flesh on me?’

  Asgard dipped a couple of claws into his electic-blue, burning maghole as if thinking. ‘The boy may recover and come back to you if he has access to the one thing he desires most in the world.’

  ‘And, pray tell,’ Cain replied, intrigued, ‘what is that?’

  ‘It is for you to puzzle,’ Asgard said. ‘There is no time to lose. When the boy lands on Earth, you must return immediately. I am unable to transport at will any more. There are problems—’

  ‘What kind of problems?’

  ‘The boy burns me. I cannot be sure of survival.’

  Cain’s good mood evaporated. ‘Then find me spiders who will sacrifice themselves for the cause,’ he demanded.

  Asgard stared at Cain. He did not like taking orders, especially from a spirit. Maybe he had to get used to it. ‘The consequences are difficult for dreamspinners. We are not familiar with other species, other worlds—’

  ‘If you are unable to transport me, Asgard,’ Cain snapped, ‘find others who will. If you want the Garden of Eden to open, if you want to keep making your dreams, I suggest you give me your wholehearted support. Use another.’

  The ultimate sacrifice – death? This shocking idea had not even entered the mind of the dreamspinner. Asgard knew dreamspinners would have to change, but he didn’t realise how drastically. He recognised that the dreamspinners, the oldest curators of life, the givers of dreams, faced a stark choice: back the three children or line up behind Cain.

  Asgard had been there when the children were given the Tripodean dream – the prophecy of Eden. But he knew the prophecy had been designed for the best of mankind, men who were strong, clever, and wise in magic and nature. This prophecy heralded a new era for mankind and, as Asgard realised, for dreamspinners too.

  Without dream powders of inspiration from the Garden of Eden, was there any point in being a dreamspinner? Asgard had seen it many times; species who failed to contribute to the fabric of life very quickly ended up extinct.

  Havilah was now the only place that offered spider web powders of any note. Even if these spider web powders could only be spun into dark dreams, or nightmares, they were just as powerful as dreams from the Garden of Eden – depending on how they were interpreted. And although these dreams were not as fun to deliver, at least dreamspinners would continue to exist.

  ‘Perhaps,’ Asgard signed with his long, slender, opaque claws. ‘Perhaps it can be done, for the greater cause.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Cain crowed. ‘If you are to change, dreamspinner, then you must accept choices you do not like.’

  Asgard knew it was so, but right now he needed to get them back to Earth. ‘Master. Awaken the boy. There is one last thing to do. Dive through me once again. This time, save your strength, for you shall bear the boy’s weight and steer him through my maghole.’

  Cain softly reached inside and, for the very first time, did not force the boy awake. He talked to him gently, as if to a child, and a glow – which wasn’t particularly nice, nor unpleasant, just unusual – ran through him. He had to work with the boy, not force him, he reminded himself. Cain’s thoughts turned to the puzzle Asgard had given him: what would make this human come back to him? What was the one thing the boy desired most?

  Cain thought of the conversation with the spirit. His mother is alive, and the boy doesn’t know it. The father who died in a car crash when he was an infant with his wife by his side. All this time, and the mother survived!

  Yes, it made perfect sense, and Cain chuckled. It is the answer. I will search her out and when the boy is fit and strong he will come back to me, because I will give him his mother. And he will come willingly and I will look after him.

  Cain’s plan was building in his mind and already it pleased him greatly.

  The boy woke and started to move as Cain gently coaxed him on. ‘Together, little Earth being, we will start afresh. Together we will rule the universe.’

  ‘Where shall I take him?’ Asgard asked.

  ‘Back to where he came from, dreamspinner. To a place they cannot fail to find him.’

  ‘Then let us go with haste. I am ready.’

  With the boy stirring, Cain summoned every ounce of his ghostly strength and threw himself and Kemp through the dreamspinner’s middle.

  FIFTY-SIX

  DAISY TRIES TO WORK IT OUT

  Daisy picked up the chair and pushed it under the thick, wooden table top. ‘That is one seriously confused chick,’ she said, ‘with a terrible, terrible temper.’

  Archie looked pained. ‘You think Isabella’s wrong?’

  ‘Doh, yeah. Of course she is, Arch!’ Daisy replied. ‘Come on, no one in the world has hair like yours or eyes like mine, or holes through their hands, for that matter.’

  ‘True. Cool glasses by the way – they suit you.’

  Daisy grinned. ‘Bells has only to look at her hands to realise something odd is happening. It’s just too freaky for her.’

  Archie grinned. ‘So what next?’

  ‘Well, for starters,’ she said smiling at him, ‘you need to start wearing a hat.’

  ‘Ha, ha!’ He replied. ‘No way!’

  Daisy pulled a black hat out of her pocket and threw it at him. ‘Try this – one of Dad’s. Found it while rummaging around upstairs.’
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  ‘Have you been through their entire wardrobe?’

  ‘Yeah, pretty much. Go on, try it.’

  ‘No way!’

  ‘Way! Pleeease!’

  Archie put it on and Daisy clapped her hands. ‘Fan-tastic!’

  ‘I can’t go round with a black beanie on my head.’

  ‘But it’s cool.’

  Archie took it off and examined it. ‘You sure this is OK?’

  ‘Winkle, it’s got you written all over it.’

  ‘Don’t call me Winkle.’

  Daisy laughed. ‘Look, seriously,’ she said, ‘if we really think that our dreams actually mean something, we’re just going to have to figure out the next part.’

  Archie sighed. ‘Great. Now I feel confused.’

  ‘Well, let’s start with those “cave-man” paintings on the wall,’ she said. ‘Did you study them?’

  ‘They were just odd,’ Archie said.

  ‘No, they weren’t. They were all about finding some tablets or books or pieces of rock. I’ve been searching already.’

  ‘Found anything?’

  ‘Nope. Just these glasses, your hat, and these cool, fingerless, studded leather gloves for Bells. What do you think?’

  Archie couldn’t believe it. ‘They’re so not her.’

  She laughed. ‘You think? Me too, but they might toughen her up a bit, make her look a little less like a nerd.’

  Archie couldn’t help himself and laughed. ‘But I still don’t get it,’ he said.

  Daisy put an arm round him. ‘Don’t worry, Winkle. Trust me, it’s a piece of cake. All we’ve got to do is get to the next stage.’

  ‘Next stage?’ Archie queried. Daisy’s confidence was staggering.

  ‘Yeah,’ Daisy said slapping him on his back. ‘Not sure how we do it, but don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. Somehow.’

  ‘WHAT DO YOU THINK, Old Man Wood?’ Daisy said as they entered the living room.

  The old man was looking particularly pale and the lines on his face were deeper and more ingrained than usual. He simply continued to stare straight ahead at the wall. No words came out of his mouth.

  ‘Woo-hoo. Anyone there?’ she said, waving a hand in front of his face. ‘Anyone home?’ Old Man Wood blinked and rubbed his face.

  Daisy shook her head, her hair bouncing in the firelight. ‘A right load of zombies in tonight,’ she said as she threw herself on the sofa. She opened the Bible, flicked through to the first pages and started to read.

  Archie looked at her with his mouth open. ‘You alright, Daise?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Archie raised his dark eyebrows. ‘Reading … the Bible?’

  Daisy shrugged. ‘Why not?’

  ‘For starters, I didn’t know you could read.’

  ‘Ha-ha, hilarious aren’t you? It’s the Genesis story Headmaster Solomon’s been banging on about – might as well get it over and done with,’ she said. ‘And anyway, in the cave you said we may have saved the world from forty days and forty nights of rain, right? Well then, in that case, the Bible’s probably a pretty good place to start.’ She turned the page, ‘I’ve got a hunch, Winkle. There’s something in here. Something we’re missing.’

  Archie looked baffled. ‘Missing?’

  ‘Yup,’ Daisy replied. ‘And when things are missing, you need to look for them. Got to start somewhere.’

  Archie slouched down by the fire. ‘But what makes you think it’s got anything to do with the Creation story?’

  ‘As I said, it’s a hunch, but there is an awfully well-known flood-event in the Bible and the Koran and other religious tomes,’ Daisy said, mimicking Isabella’s intellectual voice. ‘You know, Noah, animals in two by two, and all that jazz. When I think of those cave paintings I reckon we’ve hooked into a very old and very bonkers adventure that goes way back.’

  Archie pulled a face. ‘You really think so?’

  ‘Yup,’ Daisy said. ‘Dunno why it’s us, though. Beats me.’ Her eyes sparkled. She rather enjoyed Archie looking confused. ‘There’s definitely a link between our dreams, the storm and the pictures in the cave; the images on the walls clearly showed we had to find stone tablets or books, or something.’

  ‘And what if we don’t find these tablets?’ Archie said as he threw another log on the fire and dropped into an armchair.

  Daisy scratched her nose, rubbed her eyes and ran a hand through her wavy blonde locks. ‘Well that was the weird bit. It showed that if we didn’t find the tablets we’d die—’

  ‘As in the pictures below the images of the rain—’

  ‘Precisely.’

  A shadow crossed his face. ‘So how do you think we’re going to die? From plague, or with giant hail stones beating us to death?’

  Daisy stretched her arms out. ‘No idea,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t make out what it was. But we definitely die—’

  ‘Great—’

  ‘… Unless, of course, we find these tablety things,’ Daisy added. ‘Don’t worry, Winkle, it’ll be just fine.’

  ‘Oh, why should we worry, Daisy,’ Archie said crossly. ‘when we’re only going to die?! I mean is there anything else you’d like to share?’

  ‘Come on. It’s not that bad.’

  ‘Yes it is! It’s called death. The end of this thing we do called living. And stop calling me Winkle. You’re just as bad as Kemp!’

  Daisy pouted and returned to her reading.

  Archie studied her. ‘You actually think we’re going to survive, don’t you?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘Because, Winkle,’ she said, completely ignoring his name request, ‘we beat the storm and it can’t get any harder than that, can it? I also know that I very nearly died – and that you two got a zapping from lightning bolts, hence your hair and Bells’ hands. But I didn’t die, thanks to you two. And I’m convinced that if we do this together, we’re much stronger because, if any of us fail, we’re screwed. After all, that’s what the pictures showed.’

  ‘But Bells doesn’t want to know. She’s given up.’

  Daisy closed the book and shrugged. ‘Then we’re dead already.’

  Archie leaned forward in his chair, his chin resting in his hands. ‘You think she’ll come round?’

  ‘Sure. She’s having a wobble, that’s all.’

  Archie shook his head. Daisy didn’t sound in the least bit worried. ‘Aren’t you terrified?’

  ‘Nah,’ she replied, momentarily opening the book. ‘What’s the point? Go with the flow, Winkle. Go with the flow.’ Daisy nodded at her words of deep wisdom and returned to her reading.

  Archie looked dumbfounded. ‘Any idea how long we’ve got?’

  Daisy lifted her head out of the page. ‘What, before we die? Nah. No idea.’

  ‘In that case,’ Archie said, ‘I’m going to write a last letter to Mum and Dad.’

  ‘You do that,’ mumbled Daisy, who was now concentrating hard.

  When Archie returned several minutes later with a pen and a pad of paper, Daisy was busy writing.

  ‘What are you doing now?’

  ‘Just had an outstandingly groovy thought,’ she replied.

  ‘Well, what is it?’

  ‘I can’t tell you till I’m certain …’

  Archie scowled and began his letter, glancing up to study his pretty sister who was immersed in the Creation story and intermittently scribbling. He’d never seen her like this and wondered for a minute if this was the same Daisy he’d grown up with.

  He couldn’t bear it. ‘Come on, Daise. Tell me, please?’

  Daisy held the palm of her hand up in the air towards him and continued writing. Every so often she turned the pages forward and then flicked a few back before returning to her notes.

  ‘Well,’ she said at long last. ‘You asked me how long we had, so I had an idea. In here there are loads of references to the creation of the world so I thought I’d count the numbers.’

  ‘All
I meant,’ Archie said, ‘was that supposing this is real—’

  Daisy shot him a look. ‘Winkle, it is real. You’re going to have to wise up about this. Furthermore, I’m sure the cave pictures are related to something in the Bible, and my hunch is that the creation story is somehow linked to all of it. It’s like the whole story is a massive clue. But in a weird way.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘How should I know?! It’s a hunch, right.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Archie. He was beginning to wonder which of his sisters was more insane.

  ‘So let’s say,’ Daisy began, ‘that the storm represents a new beginning aimed at wipe out the world for some reason. In here, it says that the Creation took six days plus a day of rest. That’s seven days, OK. And there are more references to seven. Seven this, seven that—’

  ‘Seven deadly sins,’ Archie offered.

  Daisy looked muddled. ‘I’m not sure that’s got anything to do with it, Arch.’ She’d lost her train of thought. ‘The thing is Archie, bottom line, I’m pretty sure we have seven days to sort this out.’

  ISABELLA LAY on her bed and stared at her cream-coloured book shelves crammed with books, all stacked alphabetically. She liked the regimented order of it, the neatness, the simplicity of her cataloguing. She noted that one of the books was upside down. How odd. The only person who’d been in was Daisy. She couldn’t have rummaged through her bookcase again, could she? Isabella stood up, picked out the book and studied it. ‘Evolution of Man.’ Goodness. What was happening to her sister? Isabella put it back the correct way up and sat back down on her duvet.

  It was time to think; everything that happened could be linked scientifically and logically, surely? But her arguments had logic holes the size of France. She sighed and rolled over. She wished Sue was here to talk it through, then it would be clearer, she was sure of it.

  Sue had this skill of making complex problems easy to understand, like her explanation of particle physics, which she’d struggled to get her head around. Sue asked her to imagine how it was possible to look inside two cars that have no windows or doors. She replied that it was impossible, but Sue told her that the answer was to smash them together. And that, in a nutshell, Sue explained, was what physicists were doing with particles in an attempt to find out what lay beyond.