Chapter 4 - in which Anna gets some answers
I suppose you're wondering how I came to be with Tamsin. When they said “new start” they really meant new start – new school, new town, new part of the country. And a new carer, of course.
I’ve never known my real parents, as I was adopted when I was very young. Things got difficult – nothing to do with me they said – so I had to go into a home for a while. Then I was looked after by Bob and Julie, who were nice enough. When I left the school, I also had to leave Bob and Julie, and I was brought to live with Tamsin.
Of course things were more complicated than that, but there’s not much else to say. I don’t think it affected me very much, in that I can’t see I’d have been that different if I’d grown up with my real parents. I think I’m pretty balanced.
Other people have told me I’m tough, which I suppose is true as well. I just try to get on with it, and not think about what’s happening too much. Truth is, people don’t interest me. I prefer to read books, watch films and lose myself in them. I’m told I have an over-active imagination. Wouldn’t you?
I actually quite liked Tamsin, though I didn’t want to let on – I thought it might break the spell. I wasn’t sure why, but this time I just didn’t want to get moved on again.
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The next day I was late. To hell with it, I thought. If I was going to be ticking boxes and counting stupid plants, then so be it. “Special jobs,” Ms Shilling had said, but that could mean clearing out the store room, or writing prices on labels. Who knew? Anyway, I wasn’t going to be the goody-goody-turn-up-early, whatever they were planning.
As I walked up, one thing was niggling me. The week before, Mr Van Heugens had said, “You must not tell anybody about what you have seen.” If it was all in my imagination, that would be a strange thing to say, wouldn’t it?
I was still turning this over in my head as I walked up to the entrance. The time was a quarter to nine, and yet automatic doors slid open, the three of them were standing in the same positions as they had been every weekend before. Mr Van Heugens was wearing the same shabby suit, Bernard was in his overalls, and Ms Shilling was looking as prim and proper as ever. I half expected to get told off, but nobody seemed particularly cross. If anything, Mr Van Heugens looked positively pleased with himself. Then I noticed what Bernard was carrying. Under his arm was a large leather coat, and in his hands were a pair of gloves and a gas mask.
I took a quick intake of breath, but before I could think about what it meant, Bernard walked over to me.
“Mr ‘Eugens wanted you to put these on before you went down this time,” he said.
“Come with me, Anna,” said Mr Van Heugens. “We’ll go the back way.”
I put on the coat and stuffed the gloves and mask in its large pockets as I followed Mr Van Heugens round behind the till. He headed down the corridor at quite a clip, so I was nearly trotting to keep up. Once he went into his office, he walked straight towards the opposite wall without breaking his stride. Just as I was convinced he would walk straight into the wood-panelling, a whole section swung inwards revealing a spiral staircase downwards.
“Come along, come along,” he said, before heading straight down the steps. I followed as quickly as I could.
It was only by the third or fourth step that I noticed just how smooth the staircase had been worn. Somehow I managed to keep my footing: I grabbed for the metal handrail and decided now was a good time to slow down. I’d rather be left behind than crack my head open, I thought, as I made my way more carefully.
At the bottom of the staircase I paused to get my breath back. I was in the middle of what looked like an ancient stone tunnel, stretching off into the gloom in both directions. On each side of the tunnel was a series of evenly spaced wooden doors, each looking much the same as the last. The walls looked patterned, but when I looked closely I realised they were covered in tiny writing. I was trying to decipher this when behind me, I heard a faint whisper and then a click: I turned to see that the door to the staircase had closed, and it now looked much like all the rest.
I could see no sign of Mr Van Heugens so I went left, thinking that was the direction I had heard him go. I had gone no more than a few paces before I thought to mark the door leading back to the staircase. Turning round however, I discovered that I had already lost track of where I came in. Not a good start, I thought. I bit my lip and headed on.
A couple of minutes later I realised I was completely lost. Not in the traditional sense, as I hadn’t gone very far – and I was still in the same tunnel – but in the sense that I didn’t know how I was going to get out. There was nothing for it but to try a few doors at random. No doubt this one’s just an empty room, I thought to myself as I lifted the latch on the nearest one.
Sure enough, I opened the door to an empty room. It was small, square and low-ceilinged, just as I imagined.
I bet there’s nothing in this one, I said as I pushed open the door of the room opposite.
I was absolutely right – there was nothing. The doorway swung open onto a vast, empty space, into which I would have fallen had I not been holding the iron handle. Of course, I screamed! The heavy leather coat flapped in the empty space as I managed to get my other hand onto the handle. I hung there for a moment before managing to hook one of my heels, then the other, onto the door frame. Slowly and carefully, inch by inch, I worked myself back into the tunnel, closing the door behind me. I didn’t stop until I heard that familiar click.
What on earth just happened? I asked myself as I stood up, still shaking with fear. First an empty room, then a vast nothingness? I suppose, if I open the next one, I’d find a room full of marshmallows? Very carefully, I lifted the latch to another room. Sure enough, it was piled floor to ceiling with marshmallows in many colours – white, pink, green and yellow, purple and blue.
I shut the door again, blinking with surprise. Then I had an idea. Behind the next door would be a vast chamber full of dragons’ eggs, and Mr Van Heugens would already be there. I lifted the latch and walked in.
“Hurry up Anna, we haven’t got all day,” he said, looking up sharply. “You should put the mask on, we don’t want you falling over and knocking yourself out again.” I felt a bit annoyed that he hadn’t asked me how I found the room – but he was right, my eyes were already burning.
I pulled on the mask and waited for my vision to adjust. The goggles steamed up again, then gradually started to clear. In front of me were the rows upon rows of eggs, stretching into the darkness.
Mr Van Heugens’ look softened. “I would imagine you have some questions,” he said.
“Yeah, you could put it that way,” I nodded animatedly. I was about ask what was with the rooms, but then he started talking again.
“Well, Anna, now’s the moment for some answers. Do sit down,” he said. This had better be good, I thought to myself as I sat down on a bench.
The old man lifted an egg from the nearest table and held it in one hand, walking up and down like he was collecting his thoughts.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “We’ve been waiting a very long time, Anna, a very long time.” I had no idea what he meant, but I kept quiet as he continued pacing. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, abruptly.
“An egg?”
“Yes, it is an egg. A dragon’s egg, to be precise. We’ve been looking after these things since… well, for longer than you could possibly ever, ever imagine.”
“Try me,” I said, impatiently.
“If I was to say, ‘As long as there have been humans,’ would you believe me?”
To be honest, I thought to myself, no, I wouldn’t. But why not? So many other strange things had happened already, what difference would one more make?
Mr Van Heugens walked up and down a little more. Then he stopped and raised a finger, like he had worked something out.
“Let me tell you a story, but I do not know if it is true, for it was before even my time here,” he started. His eyes gleamed and he waved his hands animatedly. “Stories such as this have been handed down through the generations, across the millennia. Where was I? Ah, yes. At the very dawn of existence, this Earth was host to the widest variety of life forms – beasts of the land, the sea and the sky, and those that lived in the very heart of the earth. The creatures you know as dragons laid their eggs in subterranean caverns, where they spawned and spent most of their days. They all lived in harmony, mostly.
But there is more to the history of the Earth than this. Have you ever wondered why you are here, or indeed, why is anything here?”
I had to admit that I had, but mostly to make sense of what had happened in my own life. Not that I ever really worked anything out.
“So have I. To all intents and purposes, we shouldn’t be here; the Earth itself shouldn’t really exist. We owe our continued presence to a most unlikely sequence of infinitesimal probabilities. In all my years of study, the only conclusion I have ever managed to draw is that this planet, and all its creation serve a more complex purpose than we could ever perceive. There is more to life than what we see on this planet, or indeed, what you might call this dimension. Do you believe in magic, Anna?”
“Not really, no.”
“Nor do I. But what people refer to as magic is just one more way of trying to explain what we don’t understand. Do you follow?”
I didn’t follow. I wasn’t sure I understood much of what he said at all, but my experiences in the tunnel hadn’t made a great deal of sense either. I simply hoped that things might get a bit clearer at some point.
“But I digress. Where was I?” More walking up and down. “Ah, yes…” Walk, walk. “Ah, yes, yes! This is very, very important, so listen carefully.”
I was all ears.
“As I mentioned, our existence hangs on the most slender of filaments. There are some forces in the universe, it is said, that see Earth as an aberration, an error to be rectified. And every now and then, in galactic time you understand, attempts have been made to remove the aberration.
The last time the Earth’s survival was threatened came many, many millions of years ago. While the creatures of the land, sea and air rallied to defend themselves, there was little they could do against the onslaught. When all hope seemed lost the dragons came. Of these many perished, and with them, so did much of the life on our planet. But the planet prevailed.”
“Hang on,” I said. There were so many questions in my head, I couldn’t even begin to count them. “Has this got anything to do with dinosaurs?”
“Well done, Anna, you are quite right. The dinosaurs were wiped out in a single stroke, as were many other lesser beasts whose remains have never been found. Some, like the dragons, withdrew to lick their many wounds and rebuild their strength, which they have been doing ever since.”
“So where does all this fit in? What’s with the egg farm?” I know, I was being a bit flippant, but I was getting tired and I didn’t feel I was any closer to understanding what was going on. Mr Van Heugens just sighed.
“Here, take this,” he said, handing me the egg. “We have been protecting these for millennia – so please don’t drop it.” He paused, and I looked at the egg in more detail. It was furry and warm, like a hot water bottle in a cover. I cradled it in my lap, feeling the warmth through my jeans.
“At various times, some of my race have received visions. It hasn’t helped that the unfortunate recipients are invariably struck mad by what they see. However, as a source, their rantings have proved quite reliable. We have been watching the signs for some time now, and if they are to be believed, another such event is nearly upon us. While the dragons have regained some of their former strength, this time they are going to need some help. I do not fully understand what, or how, but I know we shall soon find out. For the sake of everything, we need to be as ready as we can.”
“But… where do I fit in?”
Mt Van Heugens paused, then took a deep breath.
“We’ve been waiting for you, Anna. The moment you arrived here last weekend, we recognised who you were and what skills you possessed,” he said. Madness, I thought. How could they have bee waiting if they weren’t expecting me? Still, I let him continue. I could hear by his voice there was more to it than that, but I didn’t know what.
“Bear with me, I can’t tell you everything yet,” he went on. “You will learn many such things in time. Given we have less time than we expected, I can assure you that you will not have to wait long.”
“One more thing. What was the business with the tunnel?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You know – how the rooms are whatever you want them to be?”
Mr Van Heugens looked briefly shocked, then he was back to his more usual, animated expression.
“I’m sure it was nothing,” he said, which struck me as the strangest thing he had said so far. Of all the things it was, “nothing” wasn’t one of them. “We must go,” he added abruptly. With that, he almost grabbed the egg from my lap, replaced it and ushered me through the door.
In almost no time at all, I found myself standing next to the windmill by the entrance, wondering what had happened. Mr Van Heugens had said I’d get some answers, but all I had in my head were more questions. I was sure about one thing – from this point on, my life was going to be very, very different.