The Battle for Myth - Chapter 1
Aeroplanes, a castle and a bag
Aeroplanes, a castle and a bag
On a model railway in a very large attic, a yellow light glowed from within the tall windows of a water tower building. A ticking clock broke the silence, and the whisper of a gentle breeze blew across a scenic countryside.
Inside the building was a tiny pyramid. Two of its opposite, triangular faces were red, the other two were yellow. The yellow faces glowed and brightened until every window beamed out a radiant glow over the entire attic. The breeze became a gale, and pieces of paper lifted from the floor like ghosts.
Beneath the railway, under one of many waist-high tables, the flaps of a cardboard box fluttered like the wings of a bird. Next to the box was a castle with a keep within four, high walls. In the keep was a grey, plastic bag with a knot tied at the top. A slit appeared in its side and the serious, shiny, plastic face of a soldier appeared. He wore a black cap on top of blond hair and his keen eyes scanned from left to right and up and down. He climbed out.
A large, dark green coat with a black collar and four huge pockets protected him from the wind. A black belt went around his middle; his trousers were dark green and his black boots gleamed in the yellow glow. He looked back into the darkness of the bag and waved an arm. Another soldier appeared, followed by another and another. They slid down the side of the bag and lined up in formation in the castle courtyard, all of them dressed exactly the same.
The fluttering flaps of the box suddenly burst open, and eight, World War Two model aeroplanes, a mixture of spitfires, Lancaster bombers and German Messerschmitts, buzzed out. Their tiny plastic engines roared and their propellers took them souring towards the attic’s painted sky.
Over a model land of towns, villages and countryside, the Messerschmitts attacked the British Spitfires and Lancaster Bomber with precision gunfire. One of the Lancaster’s engines burst into a flaming ball. The plane spiralled down towards a field of snoozing cows, leaving a trail of black smoke in its wake.
Smoke engulfed the pilot and, just before the plane ploughed into the ground with a whoosh and a bang that rocked the land, he ejected from the cockpit and pulled the chord on his parachute. The other planes continued the airborne dogfight until, all of a sudden, the soldiers in the castle stamped to attention. The light from the pyramid went out. All engines went quiet and the planes fell out of the sky like the toys they were. The wind disappeared. The attic fell into darkness. Only the sound of the clock remained.
Inside the building was a tiny pyramid. Two of its opposite, triangular faces were red, the other two were yellow. The yellow faces glowed and brightened until every window beamed out a radiant glow over the entire attic. The breeze became a gale, and pieces of paper lifted from the floor like ghosts.
Beneath the railway, under one of many waist-high tables, the flaps of a cardboard box fluttered like the wings of a bird. Next to the box was a castle with a keep within four, high walls. In the keep was a grey, plastic bag with a knot tied at the top. A slit appeared in its side and the serious, shiny, plastic face of a soldier appeared. He wore a black cap on top of blond hair and his keen eyes scanned from left to right and up and down. He climbed out.
A large, dark green coat with a black collar and four huge pockets protected him from the wind. A black belt went around his middle; his trousers were dark green and his black boots gleamed in the yellow glow. He looked back into the darkness of the bag and waved an arm. Another soldier appeared, followed by another and another. They slid down the side of the bag and lined up in formation in the castle courtyard, all of them dressed exactly the same.
The fluttering flaps of the box suddenly burst open, and eight, World War Two model aeroplanes, a mixture of spitfires, Lancaster bombers and German Messerschmitts, buzzed out. Their tiny plastic engines roared and their propellers took them souring towards the attic’s painted sky.
Over a model land of towns, villages and countryside, the Messerschmitts attacked the British Spitfires and Lancaster Bomber with precision gunfire. One of the Lancaster’s engines burst into a flaming ball. The plane spiralled down towards a field of snoozing cows, leaving a trail of black smoke in its wake.
Smoke engulfed the pilot and, just before the plane ploughed into the ground with a whoosh and a bang that rocked the land, he ejected from the cockpit and pulled the chord on his parachute. The other planes continued the airborne dogfight until, all of a sudden, the soldiers in the castle stamped to attention. The light from the pyramid went out. All engines went quiet and the planes fell out of the sky like the toys they were. The wind disappeared. The attic fell into darkness. Only the sound of the clock remained.
Chapter 2
Dreams
Dreams
The light of an eight o’clock morning sun glowed around the orange curtains, bathing the room in a fiery glow. Seven-year-old Lucy Trip let out a scream and bolted upright in bed. She scanned the room through wild, wide eyes, her brain taking more than a few moments to realise that there really wasn’t an evil ogre with black and white wings in the room, a creature who wanted to extract all her teeth.
She ran trembling hands through her long, blond hair as she remembered the ogre’s horrid, crinkly grin as it grunted and came towards her. Its stubbly chin and short hair were as stiff as brush bristles; its glistening, wings were so large they had filled the room.
The door burst open and Dad, wearing his pyjamas, flew in like an uncool superhero. “Are you all right, Love? We heard a scream.” He grabbed a tissue from her bedside table and wiped her brow. “Bad dream again was it?”
She nodded silently. She didn’t want to tell him what it was about because, as much as he was concerned for her now, it wouldn’t be long before he was making jokes about it, just like he did when her brother thought he saw an alien space ship in the night. Something sinister was going on, but it appeared that only she and Jacob were in on it – she more so.
Jacob poked his head around the door frame. “What’s going on?”
“Your sister has had another nightmare that’s all, Son, she’s fine now, aren’t you, Love?” She nodded as Dad continued. “I’m going to put the kettle on and make us all a nice cuppa. That field won’t plough itself so I might as well get out there while the sun is shining.”
“Was it another dream about Myth?” asked Jacob after Dad left the room. She told him all about the ogre.
Jacob looked thoughtful. “He sounds like Bob the tooth fairy to me, the one Omar told us about.”
Lucy shuddered. “He wanted to take all my teeth, Jacob; he was the opposite of a real tooth fairy. It was worse than the last dream I had when Father Christmas stole all our toys.”
Again, Jacob let her words soak in. “I bet the sandman has turned bad. Maybe he is coming into our rooms at night and giving us scary dreams.”
She nodded. “Maybe we shouldn’t trigger the yellow spell on the train set after all.”
Jacob sat on the bed and sighed; they had talked about this many times. “But if our adventures in the Land of Myth are actually real, then our world could be in danger if we don’t trigger it. We can’t allow all the fairytale creatures to revert to their evil ways. And what about Hannah, Charlotte and Gertrude? They will want our help… they are expecting us to go back.”
She nodded reluctantly.
“Jacob! Lucy! Breakfast!” shouted Mum from downstairs.
Jacob lowered his voice. “Dad’s working this morning so we’ll have the train set to ourselves. We’ll be able to trigger the spell and see what happens… see if Gertrude and Charlotte are right about Krackos wanting to rule both Myth and Earth.”
Lucy didn’t make a move, she just sat on the edge of her bed looking at her hands and twiddling her fingers. “I don’t know. The first adventure was amazing… to be able to roam our train set and meet a real elf and see all the plastic people come to life but now… well... I’m scared, Jacob.”
“But if the evil is real we have to go back. Gertrude and the girls are relying on us. If we don’t go, our train set will be destroyed and Gertrude will be lost forever. She is one of the most powerful witches in Myth and only she can put a stop to Krackos’s plans. Remember what she said… that she has added a guardian spell to the pyramid?”
Again, Lucy nodded.
“So she is already helping us. And who knows, there may be no evil at all, it really could be just a very scary game. Come on, let’s have breakfast and trigger the last one. We may not get a chance to go in the attic on our own for ages.”
“And we need to see what has happened to Odolf’s army and the village of Willaston I suppose.” She swung her feet out of bed, stood up, and said thoughtfully. “I hope it is just a game… that we really will get the chance to start again if one of us dies.”
“The elf said we would. Come on, we’ll be fine.”
She ran trembling hands through her long, blond hair as she remembered the ogre’s horrid, crinkly grin as it grunted and came towards her. Its stubbly chin and short hair were as stiff as brush bristles; its glistening, wings were so large they had filled the room.
The door burst open and Dad, wearing his pyjamas, flew in like an uncool superhero. “Are you all right, Love? We heard a scream.” He grabbed a tissue from her bedside table and wiped her brow. “Bad dream again was it?”
She nodded silently. She didn’t want to tell him what it was about because, as much as he was concerned for her now, it wouldn’t be long before he was making jokes about it, just like he did when her brother thought he saw an alien space ship in the night. Something sinister was going on, but it appeared that only she and Jacob were in on it – she more so.
Jacob poked his head around the door frame. “What’s going on?”
“Your sister has had another nightmare that’s all, Son, she’s fine now, aren’t you, Love?” She nodded as Dad continued. “I’m going to put the kettle on and make us all a nice cuppa. That field won’t plough itself so I might as well get out there while the sun is shining.”
“Was it another dream about Myth?” asked Jacob after Dad left the room. She told him all about the ogre.
Jacob looked thoughtful. “He sounds like Bob the tooth fairy to me, the one Omar told us about.”
Lucy shuddered. “He wanted to take all my teeth, Jacob; he was the opposite of a real tooth fairy. It was worse than the last dream I had when Father Christmas stole all our toys.”
Again, Jacob let her words soak in. “I bet the sandman has turned bad. Maybe he is coming into our rooms at night and giving us scary dreams.”
She nodded. “Maybe we shouldn’t trigger the yellow spell on the train set after all.”
Jacob sat on the bed and sighed; they had talked about this many times. “But if our adventures in the Land of Myth are actually real, then our world could be in danger if we don’t trigger it. We can’t allow all the fairytale creatures to revert to their evil ways. And what about Hannah, Charlotte and Gertrude? They will want our help… they are expecting us to go back.”
She nodded reluctantly.
“Jacob! Lucy! Breakfast!” shouted Mum from downstairs.
Jacob lowered his voice. “Dad’s working this morning so we’ll have the train set to ourselves. We’ll be able to trigger the spell and see what happens… see if Gertrude and Charlotte are right about Krackos wanting to rule both Myth and Earth.”
Lucy didn’t make a move, she just sat on the edge of her bed looking at her hands and twiddling her fingers. “I don’t know. The first adventure was amazing… to be able to roam our train set and meet a real elf and see all the plastic people come to life but now… well... I’m scared, Jacob.”
“But if the evil is real we have to go back. Gertrude and the girls are relying on us. If we don’t go, our train set will be destroyed and Gertrude will be lost forever. She is one of the most powerful witches in Myth and only she can put a stop to Krackos’s plans. Remember what she said… that she has added a guardian spell to the pyramid?”
Again, Lucy nodded.
“So she is already helping us. And who knows, there may be no evil at all, it really could be just a very scary game. Come on, let’s have breakfast and trigger the last one. We may not get a chance to go in the attic on our own for ages.”
“And we need to see what has happened to Odolf’s army and the village of Willaston I suppose.” She swung her feet out of bed, stood up, and said thoughtfully. “I hope it is just a game… that we really will get the chance to start again if one of us dies.”
“The elf said we would. Come on, we’ll be fine.”