Book of Fire Page 3

My hackles rose instantly. ‘You’re not going anywhere, Grandpa!’ I returned a little too quickly.

  ‘Now you and I both know that’s not true … or possible.’ His eyes twinkled down at me and I buried my face in his warm, weathered hands, suddenly nine years old again.

  ‘Come, don’t let those beautiful eyes be sad for me, Talia; you must know there are others who would trade their entire lives for one day in our free world. In the end we must all know our place in nature, and time.’

  I nodded, trying to swallow, and failing miserably. ‘That’s what you said about Dad,’ I whispered hoarsely, the memory of his words easing the twist in my chest.

  ‘Did I? Well then, it must be true.’

  He smiled and let his gaze wander to the bark window frame, through which reached the last glowing arcs of evening sun. He seemed different tonight, at ease in a new way, almost as though he was freeing himself of everything that tied him to this world, and to us.

  I dug deep for a smile, trying to ignore the new invisible wall growing between us.

  ‘You’re a special girl, Tal, and what I’m about to tell you must never leave this room. You and your brother are born survivors. I don’t worry about that, but this responsibility is different. It concerns the future of everyone we love and who lives here. It concerns the future of Arafel itself.’

  I stared at Grandpa. I’d never heard him speak so seriously before.

  ‘Sit beside me, child, and when you’re ready, pass me the Book of Arafel?’

  There was no direction, and I knew he knew I’d rumbled its hiding place a long time before. I wondered briefly how much else he knew, that I’d never opened it, at least not since that one time when I was a child.

  The Book of Arafel was a precious community possession, and only key members of the Council were permitted to peruse its pages. A record of key events and Council decisions since the day Arafel was founded, it had always resided with us as direct descendants of Thomas. The book was weathered and unimpressive on the outside, but had taken on a mysterious charm ever since I’d caught a glimpse of what was concealed inside.

  It happened the same year Dad died. Grandpa received a small delegation from the Council when we were reading Classical Tales and Mythology, one of my favourite for colourful pictures of fantastic legendary beasts. Grandpa always indulged my insatiable appetite for myths of the old worlds, and together we would ransack the library for any small reference to their tales. Sometimes he even made up games to test my recollection of their names and special anatomy. It was thanks to him that I could draw and tell so many of their magical stories from memory, something the younger schoolchildren loved.

  On this particular evening, he left the Book of Arafel on his small writing table when he went to speak with the Council, and unable to stop myself, I’d lifted the cracked leather cover. The strange weighting of the paper was the first thing I noticed. And although I tried to flick through the leaves, the book fell open in the centre as though those crudely cut pages were begging to be read first. Their content mesmerized me instantly. Grandpa had returned before I’d had chance to study the pages closely, but the mystery of the unique drawings and text had always stayed with me.

  I couldn’t imagine what relevance such an old book might hold for me now, but I reached across and eased the sizeable volume from under the bed mattress anyway. He threw me a mischievous smile as I passed it to him.

  ‘There’s not much you don’t see is there, Tal? Good. I was counting on that. Now come and sit beside me the way you used to when you were knee-high to a grasshopper!’

  My eyes pricked with a rush of heat. It was one of Dad’s favourite nonsense sayings and hearing it always made me feel as though he were back in the room with us. I knelt beside Grandpa’s chair and leaned into his comforting warmth. At nineteen, Eli and I had long finished our school education, and were fully involved in village life. Like everyone else, we spent six days a week fulfilling our chosen community role. For Eli, there was no life outside animals, while I was following in my father’s footsteps by teaching in the village school. Either way, family time was a precious luxury to us both.

  ‘Look.’

  Grandpa’s voice lowered to a whisper as he ran his finger down the centre of the aged leaves and opened them about halfway. He turned the book around on his knees and indicated I should read. It had a loose spine, which rattled as it swivelled. I dropped my eyes to the faded writing, and tried to concentrate.

  ‘Research: Voynich Manuscript//Genome Investigation: 10th May 2024

  ‘Author: Thomas Hanway,’ I read, frowning heavily.

  There was a faded CLASSIFIED stamp emblazoned across the front page, and I knew immediately I was reading something of significance. I looked up and, encouraged by his slight nod, turned the sepia-stained page. The dense, incomprehensible text was still there, as familiar as though it had burned a fiery imprint somewhere in my subconscious, and yet still no clearer than it was all those years before.

  The pages were covered in strange misshapen, circular drawings, and annotated by lines and words I didn’t recognize. And written into the borders were more faded words, some of which could have been written in English or ancient Egyptian, for all I could tell. Each drawing was different – some contained hieroglyphic markings, others smaller distended circles and more indistinguishable writing. I stared for a few seconds, before exhaling. Thomas’s research was a complete enigma.

  ‘I don’t understand it,’ I ventured after a moment’s silence. ‘It looks like an adult has written over a child’s drawing.’

  ‘Ah well, that’s scientists for you!’ Grandpa leaned forward to brush the text gently.

  ‘You recall everything I’ve told you about Thomas?’

  I nodded uncertainly.

  ‘Good. Well, these central pages are all that’s left of his work: precious, classified scientific work. You know Thomas as the pioneering forefather of Arafel, and he was. But he also had a life before Arafel … in the city,’ he continued, gazing at me intently.

  ‘Thomas was working on a huge Government project at the time the Great War broke out, as a Lead Scientist in the team that created the Lifedome.’

  I looked at my grandfather sharply. It was the first time I’d heard of a connection with the dome.

  ‘Something happened while he was carrying out important Government research, something big enough to make him abandon everything he knew, and run.’

  ‘Do you know what it was?’ I prompted breathlessly.

  Grandpa drew a deep breath and scrutinized my face.

  ‘Have you ever heard of the Voynich, Talia?’ he whispered so quietly I had to strain to hear at all.

  For a second, it seemed as though even the leaves of our white oak paused their dance to listen. I shook my head.

  ‘The Voynich was an ancient medieval manuscript, which baffled historians and scientific cryptographers for centuries. Thomas was a very clever scientist, Talia, and just before the war he made a discovery about the Voynich, something that changed his mind dramatically about the purpose and sanctuary of the Lifedome.’

  ‘Is this … the Voynich?’ I asked wonderingly, pointing to the open pages resting on Grandpa’s lap. My skin prickled with the prospect of the real-life ancient mystery unfolding before my very eyes.

  Grandpa chuckled softly. ‘Oh no, the Voynich Manuscript was a wonderfully ornate ancient manuscript, which we believe may have been lost during the Great War. What you are looking at is Thomas’s own research into the Voynich, although some believe it’s of rather more importance …’

  I tried not to show my disappointment. ‘What … what does it mean? What did he find out exactly?’

  ‘Well therein lies the real mystery.’ Grandpa pondered this for a moment. ‘We’ve never been able to understand its significance. He attempted to persuade the authorities at the time to listen to him, but instead they arrested him. Luckily, some of his team remained loyal, broke him out of prison, and together with
his key research … these pages … smuggled him out of the city to start a new life as an Outsider. Thomas bound the pages inside the Book of Arafel, so they would always be safe, together with his account of Arafel’s beginning.’

  I stared in wonder at the new light in Grandpa’s face. I’d never seen him so passionate, or serious.

  ‘You remember what I taught you of Thomas’s vision? We must live freely, know our place in the forest, and take only what we need to survive.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Yet, Thomas left something else on his deathbed too: a secret request to his family and descendants, that we protect the Book of Arafel from the Insiders – with our lives.’

  The words hung on the air and I shifted, trying to digest the enormity of what Grandpa was saying.

  ‘But, you must know more,’ I tried after a weighted silence. ‘You must have some suspicion as to the meaning of Thomas’s research?’

  I reached out to touch the crinkled paper, and a twinkle crept back into Grandpa’s eyes.

  ‘There’s my Talia, always asking why,’ he responded cryptically. ‘And all I really know is our beginning is hidden in these pages somewhere, and by that I don’t mean Arafel’s beginning – I mean yours, mine, and every other creature that ever walked this earth …’

  I gazed back at the grandfather I thought I knew so well, and suddenly realized how many secrets his wise and kindly face had hidden over the years. For all our sakes.

  ‘The … Origin of Species?’ I tried, racking my brain for any memory of the Darwinian text I’d read years ago.

  He let out a short bark of laughter.

  ‘Yes, but a secret that may make the Origin of Species look like your school abacus! I don’t have the answers, Talia, but I have equipped you so that one day you might understand this better than your old grandpa.’

  Equipped me? I studied the complex text intently, willing its enigma to somehow rise from the pages and reveal itself.

  ‘Can Eli know?’ I asked.

  ‘No.’ His tone was sharp and non-negotiable.

  ‘The Book of Arafel is the responsibility of one of our line only. You must only share it when it is your time.’

  I scowled, conjuring up all the permutations where that neat arrangement could break down, as a piercing alarm filled the air.

  Grandpa glanced towards his window, his bushy eyebrows forked into unusual concern.

  ‘The perimeter alarm!’ I frowned, jumping to my feet. ‘I’ll get the others, Grandpa.’

  My chest tightened as I sprinted out through the living space, and scrambled down the ladder to join mum and Eli at the bottom of the tree. Jas had retreated to the topmost branches, and was mewing like a kitten.

  Eli shot her an anxious look but there was no time for animal therapy now. The drill was mandatory. If the alarm sounded, every member of the village had to report to the Council Ring.

  The Ring was a large, deep cave, accessible only via a narrow tunnel behind the village storehouse. It contained a natural circlet of boulders, which gave a spherical appearance to the space, and had provided Thomas and his small following with shelter in the early days. Now it was used only in an official capacity for events, meetings, and shelter if the weather was unusually bad. The Council said the natural shape of the Ring reminded us of Thomas’s harmonious principles: shared community living, open trade, and dispute resolution by dialogue. But tonight the Ring was protection.

  Every direction I looked villagers were hurrying out of the dusky foliage, their faces pale and strained, barely concealing their anxiety. The young and fit helped the elderly and infirm. Between the trees to our left, a golden-haired toddler stumbled while his mother struggled with a crying newborn. Mum hurried over to the terrified child.

  ‘Come on, Daniel,’ she whispered, taking his hand. ‘Let’s see how many rabbits we can count along the way.’

  His mother smiled gratefully as she fell in next to us, and I recognized her as Nina from the other side of the village. Her husband had accidentally disturbed a hibernating bear in the outside forest a couple of years ago. He’d never walked, or spoken, again.

  ‘Grandpa?’ I asked Mum with raised eyebrows. I already knew her answer.

  Grandpa was weak, but had become increasingly stubborn when it came to village summons. He said his presence was a distraction for the new leadership, and not being answerable was a precious perk of his advanced age. He wasn’t relinquishing it to anyone.

  ‘Maybe later.’

  She spoke briefly and her strained expression said it all.

  We arrived at the Ring within minutes, and joined the steady line of villagers filing silently down the tunnel into the lantern-lit circle of stones. The cavern was only about ten metres deep into the mountain, but its cold, dank atmosphere made it feel a million miles away from our treehouse. There were about six hundred of us, and we filled the empty space with ease.

  Four sentries were positioned at the exit, and I felt a small surge of comfort even though they would be no match for an aircraft Eagle, should one ever penetrate the mountain range. I watched as Max and two of his tall friends lit extra lanterns, and I pressed myself into Mum’s warmth.

  A hush fell across the arena as a small, elderly man stepped up onto the flat boulder used only for public addresses.

  Art was our elected Village Leader, and had accepted the reins from Grandpa three years before. The Council held annual open elections, but Grandpa had been re-elected as Leader for nearly forty consecutive years before ill health forced him to stand down.

  Tonight, Art smiled calmly around at the anxious crowd as two Elder members of the Village Council joined him on the flat stone. Then he turned a dial on a small black box, and the perimeter alarm disappeared.

  ‘My friends.’ He spoke with a quiet air of authority. ‘Thank you for your calm and rapid response to our intrusion alert. Our detectors suggest that at least one Sweeper, perhaps two, have infiltrated our designated perimeter. We have also detected large unidentified animal life in the area.

  ‘In accordance with Arafel’s Emergency Plan, we will deploy a small fact-finding task force immediately. Please will those nominated assemble on the west side, and move down to the side chamber where there will be a quick briefing.’

  I threw a swift glance around the crowd as various villagers hugged their loved ones before making their way over towards a small cavernous antechamber. I clenched my fingers knowing they were all thinking the same thing. That they might not return. Then Max dismounted casually from a boulder to near the exit and I felt an odd coldness creep into my stomach. He threw a brief wink in my direction as he passed.

  ‘Eli Hanway is also requested to join the task force.’

  It was impossible to miss the mandatory edge to Art’s voice, and I caught my breath. It was completely understandable of course. Eli was easily the best person to manage any unidentified animal life, but he was also vulnerable – and my brother. I scowled at Mum. Her gaze was fixed on Art, though she squeezed my hand until the whites of her knuckles gleamed in the cavern’s flickering light.

  ‘The initial task force will be deployed in fifteen minutes; all community members are requested to remain here until we have gathered more information.’

  As Eli joined the others inside the antechamber, Art inclined his head to signify the short meeting was at an end.

  ‘Grandpa?’ I whispered.

  Mum shook her head, although I already knew he wouldn’t consider coming to the Ring for the duration of the task force operation. Just as my brain started processing numerous persuasive strategies, none of which were likely to have success, a familiar voice echoed across the cavern.

  ‘Apologies for the interruption, Art, but I believe you might – despite your undoubted wisdom – have overlooked something.’

  His authority was unmistakable, even at his age.

  ‘Grandpa?’ I asked incredulously, craning my neck as the crowd parted to let a stooped figure shuffle slowly into t
he centre of the Ring.

  ‘George!’ Art’s voice was full of equal care and surprise. ‘What concerns do you have, my oldest friend?’

  There was a hush as Grandpa pulled an old oblong item, wrapped in Mum’s shawl, from under his arm. He unwrapped it with shaking hands, and held it up above his head for everyone to see. A murmur of surprise ran through the crowd and I shivered. It was the Book of Arafel. Grandpa rarely took it out at home, let alone in public. It was just too precious.

  With slow ponderous actions, Grandpa opened the dusty tome, cleared his throat and began to read aloud: ‘In accordance with Article 8562 Procedures in an Emergency, all task forces should include an original member of the Council of Arafel in preference, or his/her replacement.’

  ‘Old friend, this requirement has not been overlooked,’ Art interjected gently. ‘I intend to accompany the task force.’

  Grandpa’s shrewd gaze was unwavering. ‘The Article states all task units should comprise Arafel’s core pillars: strength, skill, speed, and experience. It’s no secret I learned how to negotiate with Insiders from my grandfather, as he learned from Thomas himself,’ he continued in a steely voice. ‘There’s a skill to communicating with them, Art, for – despite our shared heritage – they are not our kind. You are needed here, and I am of Thomas’s bloodline, the eldest remaining. You must let me go, in preference.’

  A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd. Disagreement was rare in Arafel, let alone among such senior Council members.

  ‘No, Grandpa!’ my voice rang out, sounding high and unnatural in the cavernous space. Dozens of eyes swung my way, and Grandpa’s face relaxed for a second.

  ‘It is the right way, Talia,’ he reassured me, his voice softer. ‘You know what to do.’

  I watched wretchedly as he made his way slowly through the crowd to pass me the wrapped book.

  ‘Protect it with your life, and one day you might know its secrets,’ he whispered, hugging me and Mum tightly, before shuffling towards the antechamber. Art looked undecided for a second, and then slowly nodded his defeat. Grandpa was elderly, but also universally loved and respected as an Elder with direct connection to the original founding father. No one here would support a challenge.