The Lost Restaurant Chapter from The Elemental Stones

This is a deleted extract from 'The Elemental Stones' - the blog of which can be found under my links. The prologue can also be read in this blog. 
Anyway, I was sad to lose this chapter, but ruthlessness is always needed when critiquing your work. And it doesn't really add much to the story and it is ridiculously melodramatic. (Not that the rest of the story is completely realistic!) The story just flows better without it. But because I have a great emotional connection to it, I though I would share it with you. Enjoy:


The waiter pulled out a chair and Judith sat on it. She pulled the chair forward herself, which was a relief to the waiter; Judith looked rather heavy. They were located in the middle of a restaurant that had dim lights and a deep red colour scheme. “It’s very kind of you to do this. I’ve not been treated so well for quite a while,” Judith thanked.

“It’s not a problem. I’m glad you could come. It’s about time we got away from those persistent children,” Tim joked mildly. Judith smiled. She looked around the restaurant at the people around her.

“What’re you doing?” Tim asked, glancing around.

“I find people absolutely amazing.” She suddenly turned around and faced Tim. “You see the table behind us and a bit to your right. Don’t look.” Judith snapped quickly. “That old woman has done nothing but stare at us since we arrived.” Tim took a quick glance at the woman. She was sat at a table with two teenage children: one boy and one girl. She turned away to talk to her grandchildren.

“Forget it. What do you want to drink?” Tim asked. Judith slowly turned her head towards Tim. She thought for a while before requesting a white wine. As Tim was ordering, Judith moved the silver candlestick so she could see the reflection of the old woman. She was staring at her and Tim again. A minute later, she murmured something to her grandchildren, got up and disappeared through the archway labelled Toilets.

Judith felt rather more comfortable with the bizarre, old woman gone. She tried to pay attention to Tim’s ramblings, nodding her head in agreement, even though she had no idea what he was on about. The waiter delivered their drinks and took their orders for the main course. He jotted it down and headed off to the kitchen. 

“So then,” Tim started, “Tell me about…” He stopped. His eyes had been averted to a new figure in the restaurant walking towards their table. He knew instantly who it was. The orange hair with the blonde streak, the slim body, the blue eyes and even the small nose. Yes, it was, without a doubt, Simny Rogers. Judith had not noticed her however, and it would have made little difference if she had. Simny stopped right behind Judith who felt rather uncomfortable at the new presence. She looked into the candlestick and saw the orange-haired woman, for that was all Simny was to her. Simny drew a dagger from a pocket of her pink cloak. The cloak was long, and had large armholes. Judith immediately tensed. Tim saw her frightened face calling out to him for advice. He felt scared too. He had encountered Simny twice before and there was no stopping her when she had her dagger. She spoke to him as the dagger was put at Judith’s throat: “Hi Tim. Remember me?”

Several people in the restaurant had seen Simny and the knife and had stopped eating to watch this soap opera. Judith sat petrified. The only movement were her shimmering eyes and the small tears creeping down her chubby cheeks. Tim felt useless; he couldn’t do anything to save Judith. Then Simny made an announcement to the whole restaurant: “Nobody do anything,” she projected. “If anyone so much as gets up, then the fat, little lady gets it.” Anyone who hadn’t noticed her before had done so now and stared in awe at the matter in hand. Simny grabbed a handgun from her pocket and pointed it at a waiter. The young man instantly looked terrified. His eyes opened widely and he took in a sharp intake of breath.

“Have you never seen a gun before? Now pop along into the kitchen and tell all the other waiters, waitresses, cooks, et cetera to come into here,” Simny ordered. The waiter hurried towards the kitchen. “And don’t try anything funny.” Out of the kitchen came a long queue of the staff of the restaurant. They stood in a long line at the back of the restaurant. Outside they could see a young woman taking her mobile from her pocket and dialling the police. Simny, however, had not seen this.

“No one move whilst I talk to Mr. Fox here, who will talk, won’t you, Timmy!” Tim said nothing, but looked down at his napkin. “Timmy?” Simny called in a high, singsong voice that would usually be used with children the age of four. Tim looked up. His face was empty and expressionless. 

“Now, for a very long time now I have been searching for four things. You know what I mean, don’t you,” Simny said, agitated.

“I do,” Tim said slowly.

“I kidnapped your wife-to-be, and you rescued her. I kidnapped her again with your son, and you rescued her again. I don’t want to be disappointed a third time. Where is the Elemental Stone of Fire?” A squeak came from Judith. “Maybe your little girlfriend can tell me?” she said to Tim, but looked down at Judith. Judith stared at Tim, looking for a hint as to what to do. Tim shook his head.

“No? Then there’s really no point in keeping her alive,” Simny explained carelessly. She tightened her grip on the dagger and pressed it into Judith’s neck a bit more.

“No!” Tim cried, leaping out of his seat. Everyone in the restaurant winced, waiting for a gunshot. But Simny smiled. She loosened the pressure of the knife against Judith’s throat.

“Ah. A new love of your life, eh? Maybe I should kidnap her as well. That may…persuade you to tell me the location of the Stone.” Tim saw a woman outside with a mobile phone in her hand, pressed against her ear. “But then, you’d probably rescue her again. I mean after all, that is your job isn’t it? To rescue people from those who threaten Dimensions. You are a hero, a good one at that. Have been from the age of 14. About the age of your son. Joe, isn’t it? Yes. I remember the time I kidnapped him. I thought Naomi would give in as soon as she heard him scream like a girl,” Simny jeered. Tim realised that he had to buy time for himself, Judith and the police. How long would they be?  

“If I tell you where the Stone is, then you’ll still kill Judith.”

“Tim. I don’t kill anyone just for the sake of it, that is, unless they could go and blab about me.”

“What about these people?”

“My theory will not matter in this case. When I leave here with the location of the Stone, I will get the Stone and leave this Dimension.”

“And if you leave here without the site of the Stone?”

“I have this place under my thumb. Can’t you see that? Anyone who moves, then BANG!” Everyone in the restaurant flinched at the shouted final syllable. “The longer you take to tell me, the longer these people will be here, and the tighter my knife presses against your girlfriend’s neck.” Tim looked at Simny in horror. “It’s your choice.” Tim looked at Judith. Her face hadn’t changed much. She still wore the terrified face; tears still trickled like small brooks down her face. Tim twitched a side of his mouth, trying to signal to her that everything would be fine.

“I know a song,” he eventually said. “My dear wife used to sing it to Joe when he was a baby.”

“And?” Simny encouraged. 

Where is that damn police force? Tim thought. “In the song is a tree.”

 The restaurant door burst open. “Don’t move,” a police officer ordered.

“They’re doing that under my instruction,” Simny smirked. The police officer looked at Simny. She winked at him. She swung Judith off her chair, not cutting her throat though. 

“Terribly sorry, but I can’t stay.” She pushed Judith forward, who collapsed into the police officer and his squad. Then Simny ran into the toilets. Total confusion reigned for several seconds. Tim helped Judith up and the police squad ran through the flurry of restaurant staff and customers. The officer tripped, causing the other policemen and women to fall like dominoes again. 

When they eventually did get to the toilets they found the white haired, large nosed lady who had disappeared earlier. She was sitting by the wall, a hand to her forehead.

“What happened?” the officer shouted.

“She…she ran through here. She pushed me…pushed me out of the way and…and…”

“And what?” the officer cried. The old woman, who was apparently out of breath, lifted her other arm and pointed to the window. It was open, an orange feather floating down on to the sill.

It was almost midnight, and a policeman was escorting Tim and Judith home; they had taken a bus to the restaurant, because Tim didn’t have a car of his own. After the confusion that took place after Simny had fled into the toilets, everyone in the restaurant and the woman outside had been interviewed. Of course, a lot of people exaggerated a bit. Tim said nothing but what had happened from where he was seated. But he, unlike everyone else, was forced to explain what Simny wanted. He was able to come up with a legible story, rather than explain things he was forbidden to discuss. The police officer insisted that Tim be escorted home, in fear that Simny was still out there.

“Officer. I know who Simny is,” Judith said, out of the blue.

“So do I. A woman who wants to kill your boyfriend for a precious stone he stole off her when he was going out with her,” Judith looked at Tim confused. Tim shook his head. That was the alibi.

“Yes, but it’s the lady who you found in the toilets.”

“Simny Rogers is a middle-aged woman with red hair. That old woman has white-hair.”

“Which is a wig!” Judith claimed.

“Darling. It isn’t,” Tim said, trying to get her to be quiet, but failing.

“Yes it is! That’s why she was staring at us! Then she went to the toilets to get changed.”

“How do you explain the fact that a few minutes afterwards we found her in the toilets with a bump on the head?” the officer asked.

“She bought herself time.”

“How?”

“By pushing me into you, and then her grandchild tripped you up!”

“Where the hell have you got these ideas into your head from?”

“I saw it with my own eyes,” Judith replied. The police officer sighed and said no more on the case. The three adults continued their journey in silence. He dropped them off outside the main building before driving back home. What a night he’d had.

Tim marched through the foyer with Judith trotting behind him, apologizing for her persistent pleads of innocence. 

“That’s what I saw.”

Tim was obviously annoyed. He snapped back at her: “I know. I thought you were right, but I’m having second thoughts. I think you are right in believing that the white-haired woman is connected.” He continued walking.

“Then why didn’t you back me up?”

“It wouldn’t make any difference. If you knew Simny the way I know her then maybe you’d understand,” Tim called back.

“Simny could be under lock and chain by now. Now I’ll be in fear of my life forever whilst she is at large.”

“I’ve had a bad night. Sorry about the date.” Tim made his way to his room. Judith gasped in anger.

“You’ve had a bad night?” she cried. “I’ve been on the verge of death, and you’ve had a bad evening! How many enemies do you have, because frankly, if I have to risk my life on every date with you, I don’t think I want to go to dinner with you ever again!” She marched past him with her head held high. Tim stood still for a minute before continuing the long trek to his room.

Chapter 3

“Mr. Fox? Hello, this is Liz. Joe will be allowed to leave the hospital tomorrow morning. He’s recovered very quickly. He’ll have some medication to take, of course… Sorry? …. Wendy Thompson?  That’s fine. I was just wondering whether I could let that girl, Rhiannon, come back with you. Very short term, I can assure you. I can understand if you don’t…oh good…. I’m going to be fostering her, but I just need some time to get stuff sorted out – accommodation and stuff…. That’s great. Thank you so much…Right, bye now.”

That night, she was hustling and bustling around her apartment, getting out ingredients for a dinner and adding them to her pots and pans. She had the radio on and danced around the kitchen singing to cheesy seventies songs. When the news came on, she started speaking out loud to herself; she often spoke nonsense to herself – a result of living alone too long. “Three chopped carrots... This is finally going to be a time where I can finally make amends with Helen... 1 white onion... I don’t know why we fell out in the first place...boil courgettes for 10 minutes.... something to do with that idiot, Karl.” 

There were three solid knocks on the door to her apartment.

“It’s open,” she called through her apartment. The door slowly creaked open. “You’re very early! Come on through, I’m in the kitchen,” she shouted to her dinner guests. Liz bent down and looked in the oven to see whether her sponge cake was ready. 

As she stood up again a knife was put at her throat. Liz tensed up and began to breathe rapid and jerky gasps. She saw the reflection of the knife holder in one of her pans that hung above the oven. The knife was well made and recently sharpened. The end of the handle, that Liz could just see, had been sculpted into what looked like the head of a kestrel. The owner of the knife was a woman. She had very orange hair with a blonde streak at the front, and beautiful blue eyes. But she had an evil smirk on her face. 

“C...can...I h...help...y...y...you?” Liz stuttered. The woman laughed. Liz smelt the disgusting odour of a burning cigarette, and cringed. Usually she would complain, but circumstances being as they were she decided against it. 

“You have something I need. Something I need to get my revenge.” The woman had an American accent. 

“But I don’t know you. How have I hurt you? Why do you need to kill me?”

“I don’t need to kill you. And you’re not the victim of my vengeance, just a tool. You know something that I need to know.”

“What do you want?” Liz asked scared and quickly.

“Where does Joe Fox live?” the woman asked. 

“I can’t tell you that! Patient confidentiality!”

“Trust me, babes. You have more pressing matters at the moment than patient confidentiality. Got religion?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just tell me where Joe lives and this awful nightmare will be over.”

“You’ll…you’ll leave?”

“Yes.”

Liz swallowed and shut her eyes. Tim and Joe would understand, wouldn’t they? She had no other choice. Her mind ran at a million miles an hour as debates and circumstances battled. “Fox Hall,” she eventually said, and immediately hated herself. She had betrayed the trust of her patients and herself. 

“Fox Hall? That figures.” The woman sounded disappointed with herself. “Which Dimension?”

“This one. Please, will you go now? I promise, I won’t call anyone.”

“Thanks, babe. You’ve been a great help.” Liz relaxed. “But I can’t trust you. Not after you so readily betrayed the trust of your patients,” the woman smirked. 

Liz’s tortured soul took a kick at itself, and Liz moaned. “No! Please, you can’t! Please. I’m begging you!” A surge of pain shot through Liz. She choked on her breath and her useless pleas.  She looked down at her abdomen. Blood stained her new lilac top. Pain swept through her again as the mystery woman jerked her dagger out of Liz’s dying body. Liz stumbled back and fell against her cooker. Doing so, she knocked into a boiling pot of water and courgettes. The water scolded her back and she screamed out in pain. Swiftly, the orange-haired women cut her throat, with a single slash. Liz’s scream lasted but a second.

The woman smiled. “Sorry babe. Gotta run. I’ll give your regards to Joe.” She blew a kiss to Liz’s still, white corpse and walked out of the apartment as though nothing had happened.

Both Joe and Rhiannon had been discharged from hospital early the next morning and had been picked up by Wendy as arranged. Wendy sorted out the drugs that Joe was prescribed and they set off. “I’m sorry it’s only me here to pick you up,” Wendy was saying. “Your dad’s snowed under with this wedding and Judith hasn’t left the site in weeks.”

“I don’t mind that it’s you. You’re less embarrassing than Dad anyway!”

“That’s good to know!” Wendy laughed.

“What’s wrong with Judith?”

“A lot’s happened to her in the five weeks you’ve been in hospital. Her niece did some work experience with me for a week or so, but when Judith drove Nicole back home, well, Nicole’s family had died in a fire. It’s really tragic. Nicole’s not said a word since and Judith’s trying to be cheerful, bless her. Just be careful with Nicole, though, when you meet her. She’s very fragile.”

“That’s awful!” Joe exclaimed. Rhiannon was silent. Hearing Nicole’s tragedy had unlocked memories of her own loss. But Rhiannon buttoned them up again. That was, after all, how she dealt with grief and sadness.

“So, what do you want to be when you leave school?” Rhiannon asked Joe, trying to move the conversation quickly.

“I really don’t know. My dad knows what he wants me to be, but I don’t know what I would like to do. You?”

“A lawyer. I want to bring justice to the world. Keep the bad guys away in prison, away from the good people in society who suffer at their evil hands. It’s something I’ve recently been really passionate about. Anyway, what does your father want you to be?”

“A Dimension Guardian. He’s retired now and wants me to replace him.”

“Dimension Guardian?” 

Joe’s eyes met Wendy’s in the rear-view mirror. She was looking sharply at him. His father had warned him on several occasions never to mention Dimension Guardians to anyone. It was far too dangerous. “Is that like a secret agent or something?” Rhiannon laughed.

Joe’s mouth was dry. His mind was actually a blank. His eyes stayed transfixed on Wendy’s. Finally, Wendy spoke for him. “It’s a security guard for those new Dimension Portals that are springing about all over the place. Dimension Guardian is more in the executive areas of the companies.”

“Why does your dad want you to do that?” Rhiannon asked, addressing Joe again.

“He used to do it,” Joe replied, still watching Wendy. “He thinks it’s important for character building and stuff.” Joe turned his head to Rhiannon. He felt like a total fraud, lying like this. “But I don’t want to do that. I still haven’t decided what I want to do. Just not that.” 

Rhiannon suspected something. Both Joe and Wendy were acting rather suspiciously. “Right. So, what does your mum do?” 

“My mum’s dead,” Joe replied simply. 

“Oh God! I’m so sorry.” Rhiannon felt incredibly overwhelmed with all the death of family around her. Her parents, the girl Nicole’s parents, and now Joe’s mother. She suddenly felt like she was attending a convention of orphans. “When?”

“Eight years ago. When I was six.”

There was a silence. Awkwardness seemed to enter all of their conversations. “Have you heard of Naomi Bretason?” Wendy asked.

“Yeah, I love her music! I have a CD at home! I don’t care if she’s old school; she rocks!”

“Well, she’s Joe’s mother.”

Rhiannon’s jaw dropped as she looked at Joe, who shied away like a nervous pony. “You are kidding me!” she announced shrilly, even though she did not seem a particularly shrill person. Joe shook his head, Wendy wasn’t kidding. It was the truth, and despite the number of times he’d dealt with this reaction, it was never any easier to handle. “You do look like her,” Rhiannon said, studying and analysing Joe’s face. “Can you sing too?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never really done anything like that before.”

“Well, sing now! And I’ll judge!”

Joe was amazed at how girly Rhiannon had become at the name of his mother. “I’m not going to sing. Not here anyway.”

“Well,” Rhiannon said, adopting a more sombre tone as she realised the psychological pain she must be thrusting upon Joe, “I’m sorry you lost her. She was a great asset to the musical world.”

“Thank you, Rhiannon.” The pair smiled at each other, and for once the silence that followed was not awkward but satisfied.

Wendy turned into the main gates for Fox Hall, drove over the bridge and stopped outside the main building of Fox Hall. Joe and Rhiannon climbed out to be greeted by Tim, who had been waiting by the large oak door. Tim hugged Joe and shook Rhiannon’s hand. Wendy, who stayed in the car called him over. She muttered a few words to him and then drove off down a road that lead to extra parking.

“Right then, in we go!” Tim announced chirpily, and led the way into Fox Hall itself.

The foyer had a stone paved floor. The reception lay to the left of the entrance whilst black leather armchairs and dark wooden coffee tables dominated the rest of the foyer. It was very elegant and it was easy to see why it was such a popular place for weddings. 

“It’s so good to see you out of hospital,” Tim said.

“I’m glad to be back home. We don’t have to eat disgusting food anymore,” Joe joked.

“Yes, hospital food is a bit dreary, but you’ll like it here because the meals are excellent. Judith’s wonderful. Anyway, you’ll have to excuse me; I’m run off my feet with this wedding. So I’ll see you later. Good to see you back safely, Joe. And it’s good to have you here too, Rhiannon.” Tim Fox walked briskly away through another set of great, oak doors that led to a giant hall where the wedding reception was being held.

Not long after, Wendy walked into the reception and picked up some letters for her and Mr. Fox. She smiled at Joe and Rhiannon, before following Tim into the hall. A second later, she poked her head back round the door. “Do you want a drink or anything?” she offered kindly. Both Joe and Rhiannon were thirsty and followed Wendy to the kitchen. 

Walking through the hall, Rhiannon was astounded at the size of it all. She stood in the doorway feeling absolutely tiny in the greatness of the hall. She had never experienced such a room before. The far wall seemed miles away and the ceiling out of reach. The wooden floor was worn from years of use and appeared natural and beautiful. There was a flurry of activity within the hall as men moved numerous white tables around and displayed chairs around them. Another group of men were laying the raised dance floor and fixing electronics for the DJ and all of his equipment. A few women were busy discussing with someone from the wedding about flowers, decorations and colour schemes. To the right of the hall, the long table for the bride, groom, parents, best man and head bridesmaid. In the centre of the room, Tim was talking to a woman who must have been the events organiser for the reception as she was very demanding on exactly what she wanted. Tim looked incredibly flustered trying to deal with this woman. “It’s too late to ask for salmon instead of lamb! The guests are coming in four hours time and my catering staff cannot prepare a hundred or so salmon dishes.” Though however many times he tried to explain this to her, she didn’t listen and talked about “ruining a special day.”

Rhiannon continued to look around the room. She counted ten round tables that were being positioned on the side of the hall closest to the door, each with eight chairs around them. They tables were being furnished with tablecloths, table features and cutlery by a team of busy people who hurried around everywhere. To the left of the hall there were swing doors either side of a bar, which was being cleaned down and stocked with extra drinks.

Wendy led Joe and Rhiannon through one of the swing doors, which led to a busy kitchen. Although the main hall was currently being used, the catering staff still had to cater for other guests who stayed in the luxurious bedrooms who dined in the dining room to the back of the building overlooking the extensive gardens and the lake. The breakfast rush was over and the cooks and chefs were now preparing for the busy lunchtime period. Wendy called through the kitchen, “Judith! Joe’s here to see you!” A second later, a very red-faced and flustered Judith came up to them. “This is Joe’s friend, Rhiannon.” They exchanged polite greetings, before Wendy excused herself and returned to her office.

“I’m so sorry to hear of your loss,” Rhiannon said. She supposed it sounded very fake, just like everyone had said at her mother’s funeral. 

“It’s terrible. So unfair. How are you coping?” Joe asked with real concern and anguish in his voice.

“Well, I’m getting there,” Judith said, trying to put a positive spin on things. “Nicole isn’t doing so well, I’m afraid. She’s naturally quiet, but since the tragedy she’s barely spoken a word.”

“Was she close to her family?” Rhiannon asked.

“Aren’t every family?” Judith retorted, rather sharply.

“No,” Rhiannon said, glaringly. “Maybe every middle-class family, but not every family. I hate my father; he hit my mother and caused us so much grief. So don’t you dare for one moment suspect that every family is happy.” She tossed her hair and walked back into the main hall, leaving a bewildered Judith and Joe.

Rhiannon was fuming. How dare Judith assume that because she grew up in a perfect family, that everyone else was given the same blessings? Rhiannon marched back through the idyllic wedding hall, back through the reception and outside. She walked forward and then stopped in the middle of the island in the drive. She was so angry at the assumptions of the middle class. A tear tried to escape from her eye, but it was the only one permitted to travel down her cheek. 

She moved on, walking around Fox Hall along the lakefront. She watched the ground she was stepping on, none of the beautiful scenery that Fox Hall was situated within was important. The grass was so green and perfect. The occasional daisy was so white, so pure, and so pristine. Yet it was all superficial. Fox Hall was to Rhiannon a symbol of what those high up in society could achieve. A symbol of perfection, but also a symbol of unawareness. Here, secluded in forests, hills and lakes, Fox Hall was protected from the strains of real life, from the tensions of what really mattered. 

Ahead of her, Rhiannon saw a bench with a beautiful overlook of the lake and the neighbouring forest. Already sitting on the bench was a girl. She was very dark-haired, small and rather mousy. This must be Nicole. Seeing her, Rhiannon felt great sympathy for her. She was alone. Rhiannon was alone too. They were both recently orphans and were both lost in life. Rhiannon sat down beside the girl. “I’m Rhiannon,” she said. Neither looked at each other at first. They both looked across the lake and into the dark forest. 

“Nicole,” the girl said.

“How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“I’ve just turned seventeen.” Rhiannon had thought her early conversations with Joe had been awkward but this was a completely new standard of unease. “It’s nice here, isn’t it?”

“It’s alright.” Nicole seemed to not want to communicate at all.

“I can empathise with you, Nicole. I can understand your pain.” Nicole didn’t move, didn’t speak. No signs of even hearing Rhiannon were made. “I feel just as alone, isolated, cut off. It hurts so much. There’s that emptiness right here.” She placed her hand just below her ribcage. “That hollowness that feels like it’s never going to disappear, because what once filled you is gone and it can’t come back. And it isn’t fair.” Rhiannon had brought herself to cool tears. She turned to Nicole who was also silently crying. “You’re a good person. I like to think of myself as a good person. And we’re the ones who suffer.”

“Have you…did you lose your parents as well?”

“Yes. I’ve not told anyone. I’d prefer to keep it a secret. I don’t want to look weak. Please don’t tell anyone.” Nicole nodded; Rhiannon’s secret was safe with her. Rhiannon relaxed. “That’s a nice necklace,” she said. 

Nicole touched her necklace to check which one Rhiannon was talking about. “Thank you, it was my mother’s.” Rhiannon half-expected Nicole to cry at the mention of her mother, but she was wrong. Nicole didn’t cry. Quite the opposite, in fact. Nicole was smiling for the first time in weeks. 

“So, have you explored this place fully?” Rhiannon asked, bringing a bit of liveliness back to the conversation. 

“Not really. I’ve had a little look, but not everywhere.”

“Right, well I think we should explore properly, yeah?” 

Nicole smiled showing off her beautiful, pearly teeth. “Yes.”

Rhiannon and Nicole had bonded very well through their exploration of the nooks and crannies of Fox Hall. Although it was such a trivial thing, it had brought both girls out of their misleading guises. Nicole was incredibly funny; manipulating sarcasm and witty remarks to her own and Rhiannon’s amusement. It was difficult to see the melancholic, orphaned girl, but her sadness was still there. Although she was more relaxed and having a good time with her new friend, something within Nicole stopped her from completely letting go. She still held back ever so slightly.

Rhiannon’s confidence was soaring, however. She laughed and chatted and acted the fool more so than ever. She had a new friend. It wasn’t difficult as it had been at first with Joe. It was easy to talk with Nicole. A new friendship was blossoming and Rhiannon could feel that this one was for keeps. 

Rhiannon had had friends before, of course. But they’d faded away, abandoned her. They’d left her when the truth of her father’s horrific crimes was outed. No one wanted to be friends with the murderer’s daughter. What if she turned psycho too and turned against them. Rhiannon had been friendless for years since her father was sent down. She’d put up with it though. She’d been brought up to be steely and to be as tough as nails. Even after her mother moved house, she failed to make friends. She had the odd person she could chat to, but she resisted making friends. It only made it worse when they, for whatever reason, vanished from her life. 

But Rhiannon’s attitude had changed now. Joe had been pleasant enough and Nicole was so sweet. She was so small and vulnerable, and yet, Rhiannon was increasingly discovering, she was so full of beautiful and thriving life. Both girls brought the best out of each other, despite knowing each other for little more than half an hour. 

“We’d probably go and get some lunch,” Nicole said. “My aunt can whip something up for us, I’m sure.”

Rhiannon bit her lip. “I doubt I’m her favourite person at the moment,” she admitted. Rhiannon was careful not to say that Judith wasn’t her favourite person either; she wanted to avoid anything that could disrupt such a great start. “I kind of, well, I did, shout at her earlier.”

Nicole laughed. “What did she do to be attacked by the Welsh Dragon?” Rhiannon looked at her quizzically. “That’s your new nickname, by the way!” 

“Oh, thank you.” Rhiannon had never been given a nickname. She’d had abbreviations and been teased as Red-headed Rhiannon at primary school. “Your aunt suggested that all families are really close, but I hate my father.”

“Why?”

“He…he’s responsible for the Cardiff Murders five years ago and all the crap in my life. He went to prison and messed up my life and my mother’s. Then, he…Messing up our lives wasn’t enough for him. He destroyed our lives. There was a mass outbreak from the prison. He tracked us down. Mum was pregnant by another man by this time and Dad…” Rhiannon was crying. She hadn’t cried during the hearing in front of all those people, but she was crying now. She hadn’t talked about it informally as yet. Now that she was, she found it so much more painful as the memories swamped her. “He locked me in the bathroom, to keep me out of the way. Then, there were gunshots.” Rhiannon jumped as she felt Nicole’s hand gently comforting her shoulders. “Just two. And then silence for days.” Rhiannon’s mind was now silent. She remembered the intense hunger, the loneliness, and the psychological torture of not knowing what had happened. “They’re all dead. Mum, Dad, the baby. I’m alone.”

“I’m here for you now, if you ever need anything.”

Rhiannon attempted a smile. “Likewise, Nicole.”

“Still in the mood for lunch?”

“You go ahead. I’m going to spend some time on my own, if that’s alright with you,” Rhiannon said with melancholy. Nicole nodded and left Rhiannon standing alone in the reception of Fox Hall

She sat down on the steps outside and looked out across the open space. Over the bridge and across the lake, the road entered a forest. The forest surrounded the crescent-shaped lake and the back of Fox Hall. So much beauty and nature. It was so vast! It was such a contrast to the downstairs toilet she’d been cooped up in for a week surviving on water from the tap and actually eating the toilet paper. She’d forced herself to survive. She refused to let her father win. But then something had swung her mind to the other extreme. The pain was too much. She wanted death. She had stopped drinking the water. Stopped eating the toilet paper. She wanted it to end. She wanted an escape and death was the only escape she could find. But she could never find it within her to hang herself from the light bulb, or to drink the cleaning fluid. She just lay there, starving and dehydrated until her body just gave up. Then she was found and her life had taken step by step upwards, on the way to happiness.  

 “Ah! Rhiannon!” a voice said triumphantly. Rhiannon twisted round and saw Tim standing behind her. “Oh, you’ve been crying, my dear,” he said, noticing her tear streaked cheeks. 

“It’s nothing important, Mr Fox.”

“It’s your parents, isn’t it?”

“How do you know about my parents?” Rhiannon asked, half surprised and half angry.

“Liz had to tell me when she asked me to look after you. I’m terribly sorry. I lost my parents from a young age, though my story is much more confusing. I wouldn’t ask, if I were you?”

“You can’t say that and then not say!” Rhiannon said. “Come on, tell me!”

“Very well, but only the basics. I never knew my father, and my mother disappeared when I was seven. I lived with my aunt after that. I was reunited with my father, then my mother. They both died shortly after our reunion. That’s it in a nutshell. Is your story much more complicated than that?”

“Father was a serial killer, sent to jail. My mother and I moved away from Cardiff to Westport, and she met someone else. She got pregnant and when Dad escaped from prison he killed her and himself, locking me in a bathroom,” Rhiannon summarised. 

“That’s awful. I’m sorry, Rhiannon, I shouldn’t have enquired. It was rude of me.”

Rhiannon smiled weakly. “Just as rude as me asking you. Why have you come out here anyway?”

“Right, yes, of course. Joe and Nicole have both agreed to help me out later on with the wedding reception. Just walking about with trays of drinks and nibbles as a pre-appetizer thing-me-bob. I wondered if you’d like to help to.”

Rhiannon smiled at Tim. He was an odd man. “Yes,” she replied, “I’d like to help very much.”

“Great! I think Judith’s preparing a picnic lunch for you guys. They’re meeting by the willow tree if you want to wander round that way.” Tim pointed to where Rhiannon should head towards. I’ve got to get back to my battle of lamb versus salmon. I might have to bring Judith into it as a professional chef. Right, have a fun picnic!” Tim rushed inside leaving Rhiannon grinning after him. He was a very peculiar man. Nice, yet very peculiar. 

Under the willow tree, Joe and Nicole were busy tucking into some sandwiches. They had a bottle of lemonade, a small selection of cold meats, and some green apples, all displayed on a tartan rug. “Am I George then?” Rhiannon asked, jokingly.

“What’s that?” Joe asked.

“The Famous Five! Nicole would be Anne, You’d be Julian or Dick, so I must be George!”

“Why’d you think that?” asked Nicole, handing a cup of lemonade up to Rhiannon. 

“I feel I’ve walked into the nineteen fifties! The lake and the willow tree, the lemonade, the whole picnic spread. I feel like you’ll offer me some ginger beer and a game of croquet!”

“Do you like croquet?” Nicole asked. “I think it’s a bit dull, really. I’d much rather play netball.”

“I’m a bit of a footy girl. I don’t play often. Joe?”

“Karate,” he said simply. “Dad forced me to after mum died.”

“What belt are you?”

“Um, I’m a black belt,” Joe said modestly.

“Seriously? That’s really good! Well done!” Nicole cheered, clapping her hands.  

“I’ve not done it in ages and I probably won’t need to use it.”

“Is it all part of the security guard thing?” Rhiannon asked, taking the opportunity to check his and Wendy’s awkward behaviour in the car.

“Yeah,” Joe said confidently, despite it being a lie. “Self-defence and the like. All part and parcel of the whole security stuff. Right then, football girl. Fancy a kick-about?”

“Alright then, Foxy! Go get us a ball.”

Joe had to run round to converted stables to fetch a football, leaving Rhiannon and Nicole alone to chat. “So, he wants to be a security guard,” Nicole said.

“He’s lying.”

“What? Why’d he lie?”

“How should I know? I’m going to find out though. There is no way that Dimension Guardian is a special kind of security guard. It’s absurd. I’m going to get the truth.” 

“Do you not like Joe?”

“Of course I do! Don’t get me wrong. I just don’t like being lied to.”

Rhiannon finished her drink and lied down on her back staring up into the sky. “Do you mind if I show you something?” Nicole asked tentatively. “I feel like I need to show it to someone.”

“Is it one of those girly things?” Rhiannon said, still staring into the heavens. “Because you’re probably best asking your aunt.”

“I know all that stuff. I had two older brothers! No, I want to show you this.” 

Rhiannon groaned as she sat up. Nicole was rummaging around in her bag. “What’s that bag for? You have it everywhere with you.”

“I keep personal stuff in it; photos, trinkets, my diary. Just sentimental stuff. Well, Judith gave me this the other day.” She pulled out the green orb. Rhiannon leaned forward with intrigue, her eyes following the incessant swirling of the sea-green mist.

“It’s gorgeous!” she exclaimed. “Roll it over here.”

Nicole pushed it away from her. “I just wondered what you made of it.” Nicole’s question was not answered. Inside the orb, there seemed to be a thunderstorm. Miniature bolts of lightning connected from the centre of the orb to the outside like a plasma globe. Rhiannon cautiously touched it. She felt nothing, but the thunderbolts leapt about to her fingers. “It’s never done that before,” Nicole said.

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem to like me,” Rhiannon chuckled rolling it back to Nicole. The thunderstorm had stopped by the time Nicole scooped it up and placed it in her lap. 

“Or it really, really likes you,” Nicole suggested. Rhiannon smiled and raised her eyebrows. Either alternative was theoretically possible. “What do you think it is?”

“Damned if I know. Probably some static electricity globe thing. Responds to touch.”

“Why doesn’t it respond to me then?”

Rhiannon shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe it can sense something in your body – more calcium or iron or something like that. To be honest, though, Nicole, I have no idea.” Nicole seemed disheartened and put the orb back into her bag.

Chapter 1

A kingfisher was perched upon a spindly branch of a tall tree on a lakeside in the beautiful rolling landscape of Lancashire, England, 11^th Dimension. His emerald feathers glistened in the afternoon light as his small, black, beady eyes scanned the waters of the lake for dinner. Suddenly, he leapt from his perch and twisted in the air, as though a turquoise ribbon falling to the ground. He transformed to a blur of pea green, rich orange and pure white, and dived down, his sharp, black beak aiming for a decided spot on the lake surface. But before he hit the sparkling lake the kingfisher changed direction and soared back into the air and flew away from the waters.

What had changed the mind of the tiny bird? He had sensed something. He sensed something in the water. That unknown presence had been there for several days now and it required the kingfisher to fly several miles away to the brook. The kingfisher found it awfully tiring and a great bother. However, it was either the long trek or death. He had seen it happen to other birds and dreaded the disease to happen to him.

And it didn’t seem to just be birds that were affected by the disease. Many a time had the kingfisher seen the white vans zoom along the road with the red and blue lights blinking curtly to collect a sick human, who had swam in the lake, having a great fuss of other humans over them.

The kingfisher flew through the air looking down on the land beneath him. There was a bridge crossing the lake at the narrowest point. It was a small bridge, wide enough for only one vehicle. As a car entered it would come across a gravel road that developed into a circular drive. Directly opposite the bridge and the island in the centre of the drive was Fox Hall. The lake snaked around Fox Hall so that it surrounded the building on three sides, and to the back of the hall there was a large garden which fizzled out into a wood. The kingfisher admired the human ‘nest’. It was well built and attractive. These humans definitely had the right stuff.

Fox Hall consisted of three storeys, built from large sandstone blocks that were over three hundred years old. It was a magnificent building with a series of steps leading up to the large oak door. On either side of the steps were two statues, similar to those of lions found at the entrance to some hotels. These were different in that they were foxes. The stone and weathered predators stood, looking down at anyone who entered or left the building. But they were old now and had been heavily shaped by the weather and it was anyone’s guess whether the foxes were, in fact, foxes or some other four legged animal.

The kingfisher, oblivious to the stone features, swooped around Fox Hall to an L-shaped building to the back of the building. These were once stables, but now had been made more proficient through a conversion to a series of six apartments reserved for on-site members of staff, amongst these being the latest in the Fox family tree Timothy James Fox and Joseph Quintus Fox, his son. It was their historic hall, stretching back into the Fox lineage. It had been abandoned throughout the nineteenth and most of the twentieth century when one Fox was deported to Australia, but Tim had restored it to its former glory and now used it as a sometime hotel, sometime venue for weddings and private functions. The father and son had lived there for eight years since Tim’s wife, Joe’s mother, Naomi, had died.

Tim was sitting on one of four benches surrounding a small, trickling fountain. Joe lounged on an adjacent one. The kingfisher sat upon the guttering and watched as the father and son’s calm conversation developed into a heated argument.

“I don’t see why you don’t want to... It’s like a family tradition. Your grandfather was a Guardian, as were many other fathers before them,” said Tim, stressed tensely.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for the whole hero escapade. I know what it’s like to have cameras and microphones shoved in front of me and I don’t like it,” Joe retorted, being reminded of that horrible moment eight years ago. “I want a normal life. I want to go back to the boarding school and complete my education. Does that sound so strange to you?”

“No. It doesn’t sound strange at all. I wanted the exact same thing until…” Tim faltered; his argument would fail if he continued that sentence. “Look, being a Dimension Guardian doesn’t make you famous. The only reason those journalists were harassing us was because of your mother’s fame and glory from when she was a singer. I don’t have any fame whatsoever, and touch wood…” Tim tapped the bench to seal the magic, “…I never will.”

“Even so, I don’t want to be a Dimension Guardian.” Joe took a drink from a bottle of water he had with him.

“I understand that. But, do it for me. For your mother,” Tim articulated.

“Don’t do that. Don’t make me feel bad for not respecting Mum’s wishes,” Joe grimaced. “I don’t want to be a hero, full stop. Why do you want me to have an abnormal life without friends?”

“I only want you to be happy. I think…”

“Then let me do what I want with my life!” Joe erupted.

“Can I finish?” Tim asked sternly. Joe fell quiet, respectfully yet reluctantly. “I think you’d be happier as a Dimension Guardian.”

“I think I know what I’d be happy as,” Joe grumbled. Tim got up from his bench and sat beside his son.

“I know you do, and so would your mother.” Tim knew this would grab Joe’s attention. “You know as well as I do that she would be backing me up.”

In reality, Tim knew that Naomi wouldn’t back him up. Naomi was very protective of Joe and Joe’s own decisions. She would have hated to think that Tim was forcing their son into circumstances he wanted to steer well clear of. But Joe had been only six at the time of Naomi’s death. Joe’s dark, deep eyes appeared to shake as tears began to well up, but he forced them away.

“Stop it, please!” Joe hissed pitifully, “I’m not a bad person! Don’t treat me like this. I love Mum, but there are some things that I just can’t do.” There was a silence as the two of them felt guilty - Tim for pushing his son, and Joe for not attempting to fulfil his mother’s alleged wishes. Then Joe spoke again. “Even if I did want to be a Guardian why can’t you teach me?”

Tim groaned. “I would not teach you. I could not teach you. It would be improper. You wouldn’t listen to me. Xaltu will teach you. He’s the Great Dimension Bird, and has an extensive knowledge on the Dimensions. Yes, I understand that I know a lot as well, but Xaltu has a lot of access to resources that can help you. He can teach you all you need to know.”

“And why can’t you?”

“I’d only be dragged into another quest, and I don’t want that. At the end of this year, I’m retiring from the position and will focus my attentions on maintaining Fox Hall.”

“But I want you to teach me!”

“And I want Xaltu to teach you! He will be your teacher whether you want him to be or not! Understood?” Tim yelled. Joe stormed out of the courtyard, leaving his father to make his way to his office to regret his actions. The kingfisher, having lost his spectacle, continued on his flight to the faraway brook.

Joe was lying on a grassy field next to the lake. The sun beat down on his wavy black hair and pale skin that simply wouldn’t darken however much sun exposure he had. It would only burn to an intense red, then return to the original, pale complexion. He feared he would burn if he didn’t put on cream. But, being a typical young teenager, he simply couldn’t be bothered. In addition to this attitude, he would have to go to his father to get it. Joe got up and strolled towards the sleepy shade of the nearby weeping willow tree.

He collapsed and rested against the trunk of the tree. His back hurt against the rough bark of the tree, but it felt good. It was strangely therapeutic. Joe’s thoughts continued to fume about his father. Why did his dad have to try and control everything? Joe cursed his father again. Why was he was so difficult? It hadn’t been the first time this argument had taken place. Ever since he was twelve the father and son had had small outbursts over Joe’s career. Tim insisted that Joe follow his footsteps and become a Guardian: a hero to save the Dimensions from maniacs who wanted to control all. It was a profession that Joe had grown up with all his life. His parents were very often away and he was left with a nanny called Fatema. When he was six, Fatema got married and left and Naomi was killed.

Joe hated himself for that past argument with his father. He had argued the same points over and over again. It had only been a matter of time before his father exploded like that. Tim used the same points and the same techniques as well. Joe knew that his father knew that whenever Naomi was mentioned Joe’s persistence would weaken. And then Joe would think about what it would be like to a Dimension Guardian, and although some parts seemed to be thrilling, he also knew the heartache that accompanied the thrill. He didn’t want to think it. He despised the idea of having the responsibility of everyone’s lives. He couldn’t even handle the responsibility of feeding a goldfish- it had died within two days of being bought, much to the infant Joe’s dismay.

Joe believed that his lack in responsibility was due to a lack of proper parenthood. His father was so often away and, even before his mother died, he didn’t really know her.

Naomi had been killed eight years ago in an escape attempt. She and Joe had been kidnapped, and during the escape organised by Tim, Naomi had been shot. Joe’s life had been turned upside down after that day. Everyone wanted to know how he had felt, how he had got on with his mother. He had been so young. Had the questions really been so important as to distress an already distressed child? The funeral had taken place two weeks after the murder, and Tim had been forced to hire a police force to stop the reporters from interrupting the ceremony.

Joe had so many bad memories from his life. Death and abandonment had seemed to accompany him through life. Then again, Death also seemed to stalk his father, anyone Tim got close to never lasted very long. Maybe it was his father who had such an association with death, not him. Either way, Joe had experienced too much death for a young lad. Joe sunk further down the tree and stared into the sky at the passing clouds. As a child, he believed that the faces he sometimes saw in the clouds were those of the dead looking down upon the world they had left. Joe knew that this was ridiculous now, but he still watched out for his mother in vain. He had been robbed of her forever. All he had left of her were photos and the imprint on his memory and his heart.

Tim was in his office in Fox Hall. He had his laptop out and was typing up the final volume of his autobiography for the records for Xaltu to keep in the Hall. The previous volumes of it had been printed off and lay on the desk in a neat pile. However, he couldn’t concentrate on his pastime; he was constantly being distracted and running his hands through his ageing and greying hair. He liked to tease other people by saying his hair wasn’t grey as it was silver. He knew he had to accept that age was catching up with him, but it was difficult. For his whole adult life he had been so agile and energetic, running around the various Dimensions trying to save everyone. He could no longer be as swift and competent as he used to be. Hence his retirement to his focus on managing Fox Hall. He knew that this was the right move. For the last few years, he had always longed to be home. Home amongst the trees and the water. His own little haven.

His desk was beside the window, which looked out upon the lush, green meadow and the lake. He could see Joe when he was lying on the lawn, but had lost sight of him when Joe moved to beneath the willow tree. Tim closed his laptop to think, but a photo frame revealed by closing the lid changed the topic of his thoughts. The photo was of Naomi.

Naomi’s pale face and long black hair brought back many memories. Tim remembered how she was stubborn, not wanting to be rescued by him in her first kidnapping. He remembered how funny she was, and how she faced any problem calmly. Even during the sleepless nights as Joe howled as a baby, she managed to sing to Joe to put him to sleep.

Tim picked up the frame. This was his favourite, even though it was he who had taken it; professional photographers had taken the majority of the other photos of Naomi. Tim had a lot of photographs of Naomi modelling and posing, but this photo was one with the most natural of smiles, and the most beautiful of photographic composure - and entirely coincidental. Tim was no photographer, but he cherished his own photo more than anything - more than any of the art spouted out from the modelling shoots. Naomi had been a famous actress and singer, well known in many of the Dimensions. She had accomplished various number ones in her career and had become a household name. But after her kidnapping, Naomi had decided to give up the high life of fame and became a Dimension Guardian with Tim, the most romantic case that Xaltu had ever experienced. It was a great contrast to the situation between Tim’s own parents. His father, Amos Fox, had reluctantly given up his wife, Karen, through divorce when Karen refused to become a Dimension Guardian with him.

Tim opened the frame and removed the photo. He wanted to hold it as a photograph, open and raw rather than shut behind a pane of glass. Although the glass protected the photo from the elements, it was a barrier. An obstruction between him and his wife. But as he did remove the photo, he exposed an old envelope. Tim was shocked. How long had it been there? He delicately put the photo down and picked up the envelope. It was addressed with a single word: Tim. It was from Naomi - it was her handwriting. Tentatively and excitedly, Tim flipped the envelope over and carefully ripped it open, removing the letter. He unfolded it and read it, absorbing each word from his long-lost wife.

To Tim,

As I write this, I feel like the worst possible wife. We made vows to share our secrets and yet I have not obeyed that promise. I have betrayed you in the worst ways a wife can because what I have said to you all these years have been lies.

As you know, I am an orphan. I grew up in the orphanage from about the age of twelve or thirteen. My age is unclear. However, my life before then is unknown to anyone save for a few of my most trusted friends. And now, it is your turn. With our personal circumstances, I felt it best not to tell you in person. My land of origin is Nothing.

“What?” Tim spoke out loud. His voice scared him as it cut through the suspenseful silence, but he quickly eradicated his fear with his confusion. How was this possible?

Writing it now, the truth sounds ridiculous, but it is the truth. I was sent from my home as one of three virginal maids to deliver relics from our home. I travelled across Nothing until I came to the Lake of Gateways. I stumbled through and entered your world alone. A world that was so much healthier for me.

The orphanage were good to me. They were patient in their teachings of me, after all, I was but a wild, unruly girl. They also spent a large fortune on dental work to correct my savage teeth. I am in their debt greatly. Bless them. The relic I had been given the protection over I kept my own for so long until I realised that it was sought. Sought by the woman who has struck terror into our lives. Simny. Once, we were friends. Now mortal enemies and all because of the relic, this Stone. I had hidden my Stone carefully, and then she kidnapped me and you were good enough to rescue me. After that kidnapping and we had entered happy matrimony, I knew that Simny would return. So I hid the Stone again, in a new location. A place that only you and Joe will know.

This Stone that I mention is one of four. Collectively, they are the Elemental Stones. One of Fire, one of Earth, one of Air and one of Water. Legend speaks of monstrous Queens that dwell within them, but I no longer know the truth behind them. I cannot risk Simny finding it. So, just to make her life harder, and yours too in the process, I have created a series of riddles leading to my Stone: the Elemental Stone of Fire. I do apologise, and if I am still alive when you find this feel free to confront me about it! If not, then I am so very sorry but I had no choice but to protect the Stone.

I have set you riddle that will lead you towards the location of the Stone:

You left me alone,

You left me with your headstone.

And all I have of you, my love,

Is a weathered epitaph.

Remember, Tim, I do love you so much and I dread what you think of me as you read this. With love, Naomi.

Tim put the letter down on the desk, unfolded, the text in view for all to see. He collapsed into an armchair in the corner of the room and stared on the can of worms that had been opened. His late wife had just given him a new quest, right before his retirement. It was incredible, and entirely unbelievable. Tim needed minutes to try and make sense of it all and let this ground-breaking news sink in. There was a gentle rapping at the door. “May I come in?” a voice called from the other side of the door. Tim dried his eyes on his sleeve and permitted entry to the person. The door opened and Judith trundled in with a tray. Judith was the Catering Manager and cook for the people who lived at Fox Hall. She was an overly large, jovial woman of about 45, with rosy cheeks on smooth, fair skin and black curly hair.

“Hello,” Judith greeted joyfully. “And how are you today?”

“Downright miserable,” Tim replied, not lifting his head.

“Well, I’ve brought you some coffee and your favourite choccy biscuits. That should cheer you up.” Judith saw the photo. Now she understood. She put the tray down, and began to clear the desk. She put everything in a small pile, humming a tune to herself. The letter was put, unintentionally, on top.

Judith didn’t mean to intrude or be nosy, but her eyes caught a couple of words. Judith panicked and looked at Tim. She shifted heavily (it’s difficult not to shift heavily at Judith’s size) on the spot before finally inquiring: “This letter-”

“It’s from Naomi. It’s private, I’m afraid,” said Tim, rising and slipping the letter between two pages of one of the volumes of his autobiography, and out of the way of prying eyes.

“That’s quite understandable, of course,” she laughed nervously, “But I just caught a glimpse of a few words.”

“Which words?” Tim asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.

“The bit about the Elemental Stone of Fire.”

“What about it?”

“You see, I have…the Elemental Stone of Earth.”

* * *

The young black-haired woman knocked on the door quickly. She’d been standing outside for a while now, and if she didn’t do it quickly, then she would never do it. A voice from the other side of the door granted her entry. The woman opened the door delicately. Sitting at a desk was an overly large lady who looked like an older, fatter version of the woman who had just entered. The lady turned round in her seat and smiled, her cheeks and chins wobbling like jelly. “Hello Naomi,” she said to the woman who had just entered. “Have a seat on the bed.” Naomi did so, removing a bag from her shoulder and sitting it in her lap. “What can I do you for?” the lady asked, standing up and turning her chair round to face Naomi.

Naomi breathed. “I need to ask a favour of you, Judith.” Her voice resonated with seriousness and Judith shifted uneasily. There was a uneasy undertone to her voice, like a child scared of the dark. “I need you to take something from me and keep it and hide it and not tell a single soul.” Judith was now quite concerned. Naomi was sounding sinister.

“What is it you need me to take?” Judith asked. Naomi smiled a wistful smile and opened her drawstring bag that was lying on her lap. From the bag, she withdrew a Stone. It was large and opaque green with a pea green mist swirling around inside. Naomi held it with such protection and care that Judith was almost afraid to take it. Naomi held it out to her and Judith tentatively reached out to take it. Naomi reassured her that it would not harm her, and Judith took it from Naomi’s hands. It was heavy and Judith could appreciate a burden deeper than weight as she looked into the dancing mists. “What is it?”

“The Elemental Stone of Earth,” Naomi replied, frankly and to the point. “It is something that I have had for years, including my days at the orphanage. And now I need to hide it. You understand that giving it to you is the last option that I wanted to take, but it is the only way I know that it is safe.”

“The Elemental Stone of Earth,” Judith whispered, the syllables rolling off her tongue like the finest poetry. “What makes it so dangerous?” The pair’s eyes met and Judith immediately knew the answer. “Simny.” Naomi nodded. “Why?”

Naomi shrugged. “I don’t know, but she is obsessed with them and I cannot risk her getting her hands on them. Please, protect it.”

“Of course, I will. Does anyone else know?” Judith enquired. Naomi shook her head. “No. Not even Tim. And he mustn’t know. Not now. If...dear me. If he comes to you and asks for it, oblige him. But then and only then can you give it to him.”

“I don’t understand.” Naomi laughed, and Judith felt small and stupid.

Then Naomi said, “Neither do I, Judith. It’s such folly and foolishness that I think trying to comprehend will only increase our miscomprehension! I am sorry, but just hide it until… Just hide it.” Judith nodded, and Naomi smiled, her shoulders relaxing as the burden was removed. “Thank you.

* *

Judith wondered what to do, Tim was supposed to know, wasn’t he? Naomi had said he would. What should she do? She lied. “I know it sounds absolutely crazy, but my husband, God rest him, gave it to me on our 10^th anniversary. He told me what it was, and I thought he was telling me a yarn.”

“Where is it?”

“I have a box where I keep all things that are very precious to me. It’s in there,” Judith explained.

“Show it to me. Your life is in great danger.”

Judith saw in Tim’s face an expression of absolute fear and bewilderment. Something was haunting him, something that Naomi had written in her letter to him. But whatever she had put in that life-shattering letter had obviously not been enough. Tim was frightened and the worst of it was that he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was afraid.

Joe was bored. He had been sitting under the tree for almost half an hour, with no one to keep him company but his thoughts. He began picking at the leaves of the willow tree, and then at the grass. Boredom was not the word. Intense tedium. That was more like it. There was nothing to do at Fox Hall if you are the only teenager there. No proper form of entertainment. Of course, television was always a option, but Joe would feel like he was wasting this beautiful summer day. They came rare in Northern England.

His thoughts began to haunt him with memories of his past. Deaths and shuns. His life was so miserable. He gazed at the lake. Light danced upon its surface in an ever-changing dance routine. Joe edged closer. The water looked so cool and refreshing. Joe stared at the water, hypnotized. He lay down on his front and dangled his hand in the water. Then he began to swirl the water around into a whirlpool. The water was so refreshing. Joe removed his sandals, rolled up his jeans and put his feet in. It felt so relaxing and purifying.

Before Joe knew it he was in the lake all together, enjoying the pleasures of life, his clothes lying on the bank. He floated on his back, staring up at the sky. The clouds drifted slowly across the azure sky. A bird entered his view as a simple silhouette, and left again, deserting him. Joe felt secluded lying in the water. No other being existed whilst Joe floated there in the water of such tranquillity. He exhaled and all his tension and inner conflicts seemed to melt away into the air and fly away on the soft breeze.

Soon, the kingfisher returned from the brook. The curious, or simply nosey, bird sat, innocently and magnificently, upon a rotting log on the opposite bank. It watched in horror and alarm as Joe swam. The white vans with their crazy and obnoxious lights would arrive any time soon.

Joe oblivious to the danger could feel his sadness and stress flowing out of him. Nothing mattered any more. Nothing except the lake and the wonderful feeling it brought to him had any effect upon his emptying mind. The water smelt like roses, but stronger. It was drugging him. He felt drowsy and wanted to curl up in the middle of the lake and sleep.

“Hey! Get out of the water!” A man was shouting at Joe from the bank. Joe, angry at being disturbed, looked up at him, a confused expression across his face. “Get out of there now!” the man ordered.

“Why?” Joe replied.

“Haven’t you read the signs? This lake has a virus. You can get serious skin problems. Now get out!” Joe panicked; he did vaguely recollect something about a virus. The fumes of the lake becoming useless and his worries filing back into his brain. He swam to the bank and began to pull himself up.

But as he pulled himself onto the land, the bank collapsed. Joe fell back into the water. He was forced to the bottom of the lake by the clump of earth. Murky, brown water surrounded him. Bubbles from his silent screams rose past his face to the surface. He attempted to push of the powdery lake bed, but failed. His limbs were flailing everywhere. He couldn’t see a thing but the water swirling around him. He spun around in the water. Everywhere he looked was the threatening brown water. The bubbles created images and pictures in his terrified mind. Demons! Devils! Snatching at his feet. Clawing his legs. The bubbles and the water smothering him, stealing hid breath and ribbing him of all rationality. Down and down, the evil spirits dragging him down to their grisly lair, and his underwater grave,

His lumbering flails were weakening. His limbs aching and moving in what seemed like slow motion. He was tired, but still he attempted to reach for the surface. And his mind slowed too, thoughts took an era, no, an age to formulate. He cried out silent pleas for help from his father. And he lost consciousness, his world sinking into oblivion.

Tim and Judith were in Judith’s room sorting through her box of precious things. Eventually she pulled out the Stone. It was round in shape, a perfect sphere. The diameter of the orb was similar to the diameter of a CD. It was heavier than it looked. Neither of them knew what it was made out of. They guessed glass or emerald, because it was opaque and a green. From within came a soft green glow and a sea green mist swirled around inside. The two stared at it in awe.

“Isn’t it beautiful!”

“Yes, but also dangerous.”

“How so?” Judith asked curiously, unable to take her eyes of the enchanting object.

“It just is. I know it must be difficult to believe me, but try to trust me.” Judith slowly nodded. “Where did your husband get this from?”

“I don’t know, but it was a grandfather or something who had told him what it was.”

“Anything about its history?”

“Only that it contained the essence of the element of Earth. Well, something crazy like that. The kind of made-up story a grandfather would tell a grandchild when putting him to bed! Utterly ridiculous.” But a look from Tim told Judith that she was wrong in her judgement of the tale. “It’s true?”

“I can’t go into details, but, yes, it is true. I know very little about it myself, so I can’t really tell you anything more.” Tim took the orb from the entranced Judith. “We have to destroy it,” Tim said. Judith reacted to this very differently to how Tim expected.

“What? How can you destroy it? It’s such a pretty thing!”

“There is a woman who is obsessed with the Stones. She kidnapped my wife twice; my son once, and then murdered my dear Naomi. All for the sake of a Stone.”

“That woman wants your one. This is the Elemental Stone of Earth. She doesn’t know about this one.”

“Even so, I suggest that you destroy it. Anything to throw this woman off the scent,” Tim suggested.

“It seems to be pretty impenetrable.”

“Then get rid of it. The closer it is to me, the more danger everyone is in!”

“I’m sure you’re over-reacting but fine. My niece is doing some work experience next week. I’ll give it to her to take back home.”

“Thank you, Judith,” Tim said, sitting back down. Though there wasn’t much point. A few seconds later, his secretary burst through the door shouting about Joe and his accident and Tim was up again.

Rhiannon heard the doorbell ring. Under normal circumstances she would answer the door, but she was not under normal circumstances. “Emma?” a female voice shouted through the letterbox. Rhiannon’s eyes swelled up again. Emma was her mother. The voice rang out again, and Rhiannon recognised it as her mum’s friend from work, Janice. There was silence for a while before there was a faint sound of a rapping on the window. “Emma? You haven’t been at work for a week. I’ve come to check up on you.”

“She’s dead,” Rhiannon croaked to herself. She knew that Janice couldn’t hear her weak voice from the upstairs bathroom. “I wish I was dead too,” she added in a hoarse whisper.

“Emma!” There was a shriek from outside. Had Janice seen the tragedy that was lying on the living room floor through the net curtains? “Help! Help!” Rhiannon could hear Janice screaming down the street. “Someone call an ambulance! Quickly!”

Rhiannon heard very little after that. Ten minutes later, the blaring sound of a siren met Rhiannon’s tired ears, like a calling to safety. But Rhiannon did not want safety. She wanted her mother to be alive. She wanted her by her side.

“Is there anyone else in the family, save from these two?” a male voice asked, formally.

“There was a daughter. I think her name was Reena…”

“Rhiannon!” the girl said, stubbornly. “My name is Rhiannon!”

Doors were opened and slammed shut as they searched for the girl.

“Please don’t find me. Let me die…” Rhiannon closed her eyes in a desperate and final attempt to die. The door to the downstairs toilet opened. Shouts were made as it discovered she was barely alive, and the dying girl was rushed off to hospital.