Chapter 8: The Garden of life
Tucked away behind the exhibits of dinosaurs, cave men and various other ancient oddities from around the world was the British Museum's true archive. A labyrinth hidden within the building, room after room containing uncountable numbers of ancient tomes, scrolls and artefacts.
These archives were not public knowledge. Not even the top levels of official government knew they existed. These records were accessible only to those who had extremely high level authority.
And this was not just because of some zealous need for secrecy. Some of the secrets contained within these tomes told of truths that had the potential to turn human perception of existence completely upside down. To keep the status-quo intact not one of these recorded items was allowed to see the light of day.
Doctor Erode, student of the archaeological and arcane sciences, studier of ancient mythology and high record keeper for the museum's secret archive, was rudely interrupted in the middle of his morning workload when a man barged uninvited into his office. The suddenly disturbance of the air sent dozens of neatly stacked piles of paper flying high from his IN pile, turning the entire room into an intolerable mess instantly.
Erode fumbled clumsily with his ink pot just managing to avoid spilling it on him.
"This is a private area." He demanded, pushing his spectacles up off the edge of his nose as he rose to his feet. The lenses were dusty and he couldn't see the intruder in any great detail. "How dare you barge into my office without knocking?"
Someone managed a hearty laugh.
"Well I can see you're as tight assed ever." Erode paused, recognising the familiar sound. He took out a piece of tartan clothe from his pocket, cleaned his glasses before peering closer. The man before him had a good foot in height on him and with broader shoulders. He was wearing a black cow hide pilot's jacket with a bright red scarf hung loosely around his neck. A pair of brown leather gloves covered his hands. His face was around and jolly, the eyes sea blue just under a thick curtain of grey hair and thick eyebrows. A styled moustache sprouted just under his nose.
"Pride!" Erode began in startled exclamation. "How did you get in here?"
"Oh it wasn't overtly difficult." The grey haired Englishman began with a wide grin, folding his arms in front of himself. "You people really should think about improved security. Just about anyone with the right training can walk in here and browse through these…" He paused to look around at the jumbled collections of scrolls and stone tablets placed in an untidy mess around the office. "… interesting pieces."
Erode quickly stood up out of his seat and crossed over to the door, shutting it quickly and pulling the blind down over the glass window in the middle.
"Good god man, I though you were in Washington?" The doctor began.
"Just returned on the latest Turbine Cruise ship." Pride replied and his expression suddenly grew apprehensive. "There's trouble afoot Erode, trouble and great danger."
"I know." The doctor sighed sinking back into his chair. "I read the papers this morning. As if the last war wasn't enough." Prise unfolded his arms and slammed his hands down on the deck.
"No, no, no Erode." He said quite seriously. "I'm not talking about some upstarts in Germany." The doctor looked confused, a raised eyebrow hovering above his spectacles. "Something is going to happen that will make the last war seem like a picnic."
"Just what are you talking about Pride?"
"I've stuck my nose into somebody else's business." He sighed, letting his shoulders drop a little. Then he looked the doctor straight in the eye with a piercing gaze. "I want you to answer me truthfully Erode. Did my son come to you for assistance in an endeavour of his?" The doctor looked indecisive. "I need to know Erode." Erode took in a deep breath.
"Yes Pride, I'm afraid he did." The grey haired Englishman swore loudly in response, thumping a fist down on the table.
"Idiot boy." He growled under his breath then looked up at Erode again. "Where can I find him?"
"I received this telegram from him only this morning." Erode began but Pride snatched the piece of paper out of his hand.
"Dear Erode old chum." He began reading out load. "Heading back to England from America. I have a hot tip on a new Power Stone location. The ship should reach Plymouth harbour on the 13th. I'll meet you at the London Museum two days from then. We should pool our knowledge. Looking forward to seeing what information you could dig up.
Faithfully, Edward Falcon." He glanced up. "What new information?"
"Edward asked me to do some research on ancient civilisations in regards to various myths. I'm due to meet with him this afternoon." Erode explained. "I was able to attain something of interest."
"What? What did you find out?" Erode was nearly forced into opening a safe located behind a picture above his desk and Pride removed the documents inside.
"Now Pride, those were meant for your son." The doctor protested as the grey haired man tucked them into his uniform.
"I'm aware of that." He said calmly. "I want to keep him out of trouble and this is the best way I think I can do that."
"What am I supposed to tell him?"
"Nothing." Pride's large grin returned in a vengeance. "I'll talk to him myself."
-
The Turbine ship made port at Plymouth harbour at around three in the morning. From there Edward Falcon and those going with him took a train heading east, moving further inland. Two days of uncomfortable travel and they were entering Piccadilly Circus. Edward was thrown awake by the loud whistling of the engine at the pulled into the station.
"Central London, Piccadilly!" The Conductor called out. Apollus, who hadn't been able to sleep for the whole journey, stood up to stretch his tired out bones.
"This is our stop young master." He said, putting his top hat on his head.
"Right." Edward rose, stretched out his arms and then gathered their luggage out from underneath their seats.
Gourmand was pacing up and down the carriages, red eyes rimmed with dark rings.
"The Turbine ship flight had turbulence, the train ride was uncomfortable, long and hot and the food at the dining car's crap." He told them with a nervous twitch to one eye. "And the reception at the docks for 'bloody foreigners' was just heart-warming." He added sarcastically.
Gunrock was in the dining car still sampling various alcoholic beverages they had on sale.
"You call this beer?" The large Mexican was thundering when the Englishman came in to fetch him and his six kids. "I'd sooner drink bilge water." He landed the bottle down on the bar with a thump and stood up, knocking over the stool in the process. The bar tender looked timid, slinking away once Gunrock turned his back. "We there already? Boy that was a short trip."
"Short trip?" Apollus asked looking perplexed. "We were stuck on this dusty train for two whole days." Gunrock just laughed.
"You should try riding a train from Mexico into the States."
Julia was dozing lightly on their seats and had to be shaken awake so they could get off the train before it left.
"Welcome to London kids." Gunrock told his six children. All of them simply stood there with open mouths, staring up at the tall buildings around them.
None of them had seen a major city before. Their home town of Dawnvolta was rural and small, isolated in the middle of the wilderness with hardly any connection to the outside world.
"It's so big…" The eldest of them muttered, gazing up at the tall executive buildings that towered over the Piccadilly market square. The train behind them blew its whistle loudly, sending great clouds of smoke and steam and more passengers began to move in to fill up the carriages. Falcon had to struggle to pull the cases and trunks out of the way of the large busy crowd.
"I'll send a telegram to Falcon Hall at once. Let the master and the mistress know we're here." Apollus announced about to venture off. Falcon caught him by the shoulder and forced to stop.
"That won't be necessary." He told the old butler in a tone that did not give away for any argument. "My mother is happy enough in blissful ignorance and that's exactly where I intend to leave her."
"But young master…"
"Apollus, are you sure we 'really' want to let her know we're back?"
"But.."
"This is my mother Apollus we're talking about. You send her a message telling her that we're here and she'll board the next train for London." The old butler suddenly looked trepid. "Let's just keep her warm and happy up in Bristol. I'm sure you don't want to drag her all the way down here into noisy Central London."
"Good point young master." Apollus relented, adjusting the spectacles. "Right, where is our destination?" Edward smiled and put his hands on his hips.
"Well we're got to head over to the Gardens. But first I want to go to the Central Museum and have a word with Erode." He stated staring up at the sky which held aloft a hint of smog.
"Mind if we talk the scenic route?" Gunrock asked. "The littlen's ain't never been to a big city before."
"Oh can we darling?" Julia asked, looping her arm around Falcon's. The Englishman grimaced in instinctive reaction. "
"I'm sure we can pass by a few places on our way there."
Gourmand muttered something incomprehensible in Italian when he was left carrying the bags. Boarding a taxi carriage, Falcon paid for a short tour of the area. They rode down though cobblestone streets, passing through the markets with dozens of stalls and small shops lining the road side.
"Oh it's all so cute." Julia declared with a faint smile. Gunrock's kids were hanging out the windows at either side, some of them nearly falling out when they observe red a policeman in full uniform with a round helmet plod past, whistling with his arms folded behind his back.
"Daddy, look it's that big clock I read about!" A younger child called out, pointing out the window. Over the tops of the buildings was the towering spire of Big Ben, the top of the massive clock face just visible from the street the carriage was travelling down.
"Young Master." Apollus started, tugging The Englishman's sleeve. Falcon looked down then looked off in the direction of the old butlers pointing finger. As they moved past the buildings they could see the faint outline of a ship. As they neared the Thames the sound of large Turbines moving was inimitable.
The carriage encountered some traffic in the streets surrounding the river but eventually they moved onto the Thames side docks.
Gunrock's kids all held a collective breath as the sight that met them.
The colors of the Union Jack flew on high as dozens of War class Turbine Ships flew over the surface of the Thames, being cheered on by the crowds of people lining the docks and river ways. Whenever the ships neared the docks they would wait and lowered a large catwalk connecting the dock to the open cargo bay. Tens of thousands of soldiers were waiting to march onboard, along with loaded field artillery, tanks and other forms of military hardware.
Army officers were overseeing the loading of supplies onto the ships and men with muskets, rifles with bayonet's stood in thick lines to prevent anyone from accessing the crates being loaded on by crane.
Edward watched the Turbine ships sail past one by one, a clearly puzzled expression on his face. He hadn't been gone from England that long, a maximum of a few months at most. What could possibly have happened in such a short space of time. The city looked as if it was preparing for war. With the conflict in Europe so recently over it seemed ludicrous.
They all stepped off the carriage and watched for a while.
"Extra, Extra; read all about it!" A boy selling papers wandered past. Apollus paid for one and began reading in zealous enthusiasm.
"Edward…" Julia began, looking up into Falcon's face. The Englishman looked confused and afraid. Two emotions Julia did not like to see on his face.
"Young Master, look at this!" Apollus began, thrusting the newspaper in front of his nose. The old butler looked a little apprehensive. Edward pushed the paper away from his face until it was at a suitable distance for reading. The headline on the front was 'Possible revolution in Germany?"
"What is…" The Englishman began as his eyes darted over the printed ink. According to this a rebel faction of socialists in Germany had rejected the treaty of Versailles and were attempting to consolidate their position as the leading political party in the country. Lead by an Austrian man called Adolf Hitler they were already gaining great influence within the embittered nation and international fear was they would perform a coup to seize control from the regional government.
Britain and France were sending the bulk of their forces to the border to send a message to the upstarts.
At the possibility of another war… Edward Falcon felt a lump form inside his throat. The conditions of the trenches and battlefields… even the brief glimpse had been enough to force bile to the top of the Englishman's mouth.
Had mankind learnt nothing from that horrible idiotic waste of life? Angrily he crumbled the paper up in one fist and stomped around for a moment before he marched off leaving the others to hurry up after him.
"Oh sure, leave the servant will all the bags." Gourmand grumbled to himself, trying to drag two suitcases along with hanging onto several canvas bags.
A vivid memory came unbidden into his mind.
It had taken place before he had even discovered the Power Stones, when he was serving as a pilot in the later days of the war. His plane had taken several hits from a German Bi-plane and it was streaming towards the ground.
It was only by narrow fortune that Edward escaped the crash landing without serious injury. Coming down on the English front lines he was quickly rescued by several doughboys.
One of them, an Irish man called Douglas had glanced up in time to see a gas canister come hurtling down towards them; trailing a thick yellow smoke.
"Mustard Gas, get down!" He had cried, pushing Falcon and several of his comrades out of the way. The canister had landed at his feet, the smoke engulfing him within moments.
His screams of anguish and pain had been horrible. The Englishman remembered him staggering out of the smoke, his skin peeling back as the gas seared away at his body. He had been carried from the trenches writhing in agony. Three days later he died.
It was because of that man that Falcon had decided then and there he never wanted to fight in a war again. That had been his final mission.
Without meaning to he wandered away from the group and ended up walking beside a small churchyard here the banks of the Thames. Fog was beginning to roll in and soon the ground around the grave stones was nearly invisible.
Noticing an obelisk shaped object near river facing side of the church Falcon wandered in through the rusty iron gate.
The towering stone was a monument recently ejected, engraved with the names of over three dozen men. The fifth regiment, stationed on the front lines. What remains were found were brought back here and laid in an honourable place in the catacombs beneath the church.
"Died gloriously in battle?" Falcon asked, reading the caption underneath on the foundation. These words ignited intense chagrin within him. Half of these men probably never even saw their opponents and died in horribly agony, along and afraid. "What glory?" Turning away Falcon sat himself down on a stone bench by the side of the church and leaned back against it. He breathed out a loud sigh and sat there, staring up at the sky. A light was on inside the church and the stained glass window above cast a faint golden glow over the marked resting places of the soldiers.
Falcon sat there and stared at them, listening to the faint organ music accompanying some hymn emanating within. The feeling of loss
"It's sad isn't it?" A familiar voice asked. "An empty loss of life that's made into a heretical attempt at propaganda."
Falcon glanced to his left in surprise to see his own father, Pride Falcon, sitting right next to him. Jumping up in alarm he nearly tripped over a grave.
"Dad!" He exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" Pride smiled underneath his large moustache.
"Well that's a fine how-do-you-do for your old man isn't it?" He asked folding his arms in front of himself.
Pride, being into his fifties, had hair grey hair yet had managed to avoid the baldness that claimed his father Horacio. He wore it in a similar style to his son's and just like Falcon again, he always seemed to be wearing his old pilot's goggles.
"I thought you were in America." Falcon stated.
"Been back for a week my boy." Pride said, motioning for his son to sit back down. "I decided to stay in London for a while. Even though it was a six months ago now your mother is still hoping mad about the state of our manor after the pirate attack." Falcon grimaced.
"I thought she might." Slowly he sat back down.
Pride was silent for a while, sitting there staring out over the graveyard with a solemn expression on his face.
"Don't be too hard on these men, my son." He muttered looking at the memorial. "Yes you're right that they died in a war that meant nothing; some of them in horrible ways. But all the same they deserve remembrance and rest in ways such as this." Edward looked at the memorial with a hostile expression on his face.
"Why?" He asked quite flatly.
"So it never happens again." His father said with a soft tone. Falcon growled angrily in response.
"But it IS happening again!"
"We don't know what for certain Edward." Falcon looked like he wanted to reply but he kept his mouth shut. "It's far too early to tell if anything serious will come of this dissention in Germany." Pride stood up and stood by his son's side. "Besides you and I have more pressing and urgent concerns." Falcon raised an eyebrow as Pride walked over to the rail facing the river. From here they could see the Houses of Parliament on the far side, the lights of the building just visible through the fog.
Pride quietly watched the waters, a trepid expression on his face.
"Dad, I don't like it when you're this quiet." Falcon started putting a hand on his father's shoulder. "What's wrong?" Pride breathed in through his nose, rolled his eyes and paused as if in thought. Then he turned and looked in son directly in the face.
"I'm probably a bad father for not knowing this son but do you believe in god?" Edward blinked in confusion. "Your grandfather made sure I attended Sunday school everyday from the day I was able to walk. Even so I grew up a sceptic, rooting my mind in the perception of the world science had to offer."
He walked over to a stone bench and sat down.
"Science told me there was no divine creator, that this world came into being through a cosmic accident and everything on this planet came about by pure chance." He smiled wirily. "But recently I've seen things that have turned my view of the world on its head. I don't know what to take as my philosophy, but one thing I am readily sure of is that troubling times lie head." He turned to give his son a glance. "That stone you brought make to the estate about a couple of years ago. Do you still have it with you?"
Falcon looked his father over, trying to discern his thoughts. Slowly he reached inside his red jacket and withdrew his Power Stone.
The jewel past to Pride and the grey haired man held it in front of him, grasping it between three fingers and gazing deep into its sparkling surface.
"To think your mother wanted to put this is a vault." He muttered with a hefty sigh.
"Dad?"
"Do you know what the Power Stones are Edward?" Falcon looked taken aback at his father's question.
"How do you know about…"
"Do you know what they can do? Do you know how or why?" Edward Falcon pushed his lips together as if unsure of what to say.
"They're elemental forces." He replied after a pregnant silence. "Apart they're limited to control of fire, earth, water and the like. But combined they're capable of granting any wish. Making any desire real." Pride chuckled in response.
"Excellent Edward. There's a bit of scholar in you if you were able to find that out." he lifted the stone higher. "The stones are older than this world my son. They predate Atlantis, predate humanity and perhaps they were even present when creation began at the heart of the universe." Nimbly with a flick of his wrist he tossed it back to his son who caught the jewel and looked at it. "Their power violates the laws of physics and is even capable of re-writing those laws or dismissing them entirely." Falcon tightened his fingers around the stone.
"Are you telling me these stones are god?" Pride put on a pained expression and twiddled the end of his moustache with his forefinger and thumb.
"And interesting interpretation." He mused. "And perhaps not entirely inaccurate." He stood up and placed his hands inside his pockets. "I want you to tread very carefully Edward if you carry down your chosen path. Many seek these stones, dangerous men who will stop at nothing in their pursuit of power."
"I believe I've met one of these already." Falcon muttered, the face of the pirate king Kraken appearing briefly in his mind.
"But beyond even them, Greater danger comes from the stones themselves." Falcon blinked in confusion.
"This may be hard to belief my son, but when the stones are involved anything is possible and the life can be a fickle thing." Without another word he walked off; moving through the fog. Falcon stared after him. "Be wary Edward. I don't want to be a father who buries their child." A lump formed in the Englishman's throat. "I'll be leaving the country again soon. Tell your mother I'll be home soon." Pride vanished into the gloom. Falcon started after him, but found his father had disappeared completely.
Left to ponder his father's words alone, Falcon stood watching the Thames alone. If the stones were capable of changing reality, then where they god? He looked down at the Power Stone of Metal in his grasp. Did that mean god, whatever his name was, had used these stones to form the Earth?
Did that mean this world had come into being because someone wished for it using all nine combined stones?
And what had his father meant by 'life can be a fickle thing?'
One thing that the conversation had done had given him some sense of perceptive. From here he could still see the R.A.F Turbine ships heading down river in a straight line.
The men who died needlessly in the war were indeed martyrs, but not for any nation or cause. Above all else their remains were reminders of what happened. Even if mankind repeated the same mistakes for a time, eventually; Falcon had to believe they would see the foolishness of it all.
For now, the Englishman would just have to be content with confronting an enemy that made their wars look like stroll in the countryside.
Noticing he had company Falcon looked to his right. Standing there looking at him with concerned eyes was Julia. Apollus was by her side along with Gunrock.
"Edward?" She began, looking at him with deep concern in her eyes. Falcon breathed out a long sign and straightened himself up. "Are you alright?"
"Alright?" He repeated slowly, then turned to face her with a wide smile. "Yeah I'm fine."
On the way to the museum Falcon said nothing but Julia could sense the return of his usual cherry disposition and even though he wasn't chatty, that was more than enough to make her smile as well.
"According to the paper, this man Adolf has been awarded the title; Fuhrer, by his party." Apollus muttered, still skimming through the paper getting to grips with the latest news in England. They had been out of touch for months and apparently a lot had happened during that time.
"The Leader?" Falcon asked sceptically, recognising the German. "How original."
"What are you people so worried about?" Gourmand asked as he tugged the bags along behind him. "Germany's in no condition to start any war; not after the way it was left."
"Anything else in the news?"
"Just a few missing people reports." The butler replied. "A few gardeners for the royal gardeners not being seen for a while but nothing really significant. People are more worried about the Germany thing than anything closer to home."
Doctor Erode was waiting for them a the main entrance of the large stone building and the look on his face instantly told them that he did not have good news.
"I couldn't stop him." Erode said as Falcon stood staring at the empty vault in the doctor's office. "He waltzed in here, demanded to be shown what I found and then walked off with all the documents."
The Englishman let out a very long sigh.
"Yeah, that sound's like dad alright." He muttered.
"What would the master want with those documents?" Apollus asked, stating the obvious question on all their minds. The old butler turned to Erode. "What was on them good sir?"
"Copies of various texts discovered in a collection of scrolls the museum acquired in Italy about a decade ago. They told of a war fought between three mighty empires for the, and I quote, 'stones of power'." Falcon looked up.
"A three-way ancient war?" He asked. Erode nodded. The Englishman darted over to the case Gourmand had and opened it. He rummaged around for a while until he withdrew some rolled up papers. They were the documents Lord WhitePearl had given them about his trip to Egypt where he had discovered the Dark Stone. In what Falcon had translated these told of a war between three ancient empires, battles fought over ownership of the power stones.
"My boy this is fantastic!" Erode declared leafing through the various papers. "This may be just the figurative Rosetta stone I've been looking for. I'll have to cross reference them with the original Roman texts. Your father didn't get those. It may take me a day or two but I'm confident now that we have a solid lead into the history of the stones, if not the remaining locations."
"From what Lord WhitePearl told us, the Dark Stone he once had he dropped into the ocean somewhere in the Atlantic." Apollus ventured. "I suppose its pointless trying to search the entire ocean for it."
"At least it won't fall into Kraken's hands." Falcon added sounding a little smug. "I don't like the idea of that pirate having elemental power over death itself; not with his necromantic magic."
"But the light stone is still out there." The old butler reminded him. "If the Dark stone is elemental death, then the light stone is elemental life. What kind of power would Kraken gain by having control over life?" Falcon paused, trying to imagine it.
"I'm not sure. But it's probably not a good idea to let him get his hands on any stone if we can help it."
"So Edward, where will you go next?" Erode asked almost cutting in. "Your telegram said you had a 'hot-tip' on the location of a new Power Stone." The Englishman nodded.
"I have it on good authority that stone of Wood lies hidden at Kew Gardens."
The doctor's eyes went wide with astonishment.
"Here in London?" He asked sounding stunned. "Good god. Are you sure?" Falcon nodded.
"We're going to have a look around. Once we're done we'll come back to see what you have for us then." Erode made a wiry face.
"You may a well make it into a day trip Edward, it'll take me a few hours to beat through the bureaucratic red tape in order to get those original texts and then I still have to so the research."
"Forget that thar little power stone. I've been wannin' at go to the Gardens since I was a youngun'." Julia said with a sweet smile, hanging onto Falcon's arm. "It'll be so romantic won't it Edward darlin'?"
"Please tell me you want to drop of these bags of somewhere first…" Gourmand almost pleaded.
--
If central London had forced Gunrock's six kids silent in awe, Kew Gardens had them thunderstruck.
None of them had ever seen a botanical garden before and the sight of the gigantic houses made of glass stretching up into the sky had them routed to the spot.
The sign outside said 'closed for renovations'. Some people stood outside when their group arrived, muttering angrily to themselves.
"I must say they've taken a damn terrible time for it." A man with a bushy moustache and a Yorkshire accent told Falcon. "This place has been closed for days now. My children have been looking forward to the gardens all week but now we're going to go else ware."
"Now dear, its not the end of the world." His wife reminded him. "While we're in London we may as well see the other sights."
"Yes, yes; very well Margaret." The man agreed and eventually they began moving off. Once they were out of sight, Falcon pushed the makeshift fence blocking the entrance aside and moved in.
He liked the idea of snooping around after hours as he didn't want to go rummaging through the plants looking for a stone with dozens of people watching.
Galuda had said the stone was here, although he could have been a little more specific.
"Ok, now where I do start looking?" Falcon asked himself. The gardens were so large that the Power Stone of Wood could be anywhere. These could search each greenhouse for days and not find anything.
While he pondered the problem he barley even noticed Julia leading him in through the entrance.
Six large green houses full to the top with vegetation of all kinds stood directly in the centre of the gardens, large water pipes running through them like a web as part of an aqueduct system to bring water inside.
Apollus immediately sensed something was very wrong when they walked in. The gardens was a popular outing destination yet the foreboding sense of isolation began to come over the old butler as he followed the Englishman inside.
The sky had grown overcast and the sun almost seemed to be blocked out completely, dark shadows casting themselves over the ground. The interior of the large botanical houses becoming very eerie in the half light.
Also it became apparent that they were the only people there. Not a soul passed them and the butler expected to see some gardeners attending to the exotic plants from far off places that clung to glass and metal frames. The silence they walked through was creepy.
"You feeling something odd here too?" Gunrock asked, coming up alongside the butler.
"Just where is everybody?" Apollus asked. Even the 'staff-only' areas seemed to be completely deserted.
Oblivious to any potential danger, Gunrock's kids wandered off to the side to inspect the large flowers and plants.
One of them tried to sniff a flower then jumped back, crying out in surprise.
"Daddy!" He cried, running back his father. "That flower tried to bite me!"
"Now son, flowers don't bite." Gunrock told him, placing a large hand on the top of his head. "They don't have any teeth."
"This one dose." The youngster protested, holding up his hand to show his father a small but definitive bite mark in the side of his forefinger. Gunrock adopted a confused expression and out of morbid curiosity crossed over to examine the plant in question. It looked ordinary enough and even Apollus came over to have a look.
When Gunrock moved a finger close enough however, the petals on the flower pealed back exposing a round mouth with jagged curved teeth. The entire plant swayed quickly in Gunrock's direction, coming dangerous close to taking a bite out of him.
The large man drew his arm back and watched the flower in amazement as it tried vainly to move itself back within biting distance. It hissed like an angry serpent, spitting at him. Rearing his hand back, Gunrock brought his fist down on top of it.
He crushed it, silencing its awful hissings in a spray of purple liquid.
"What manner of hell-spawned plant was that?" Apollus asked in horrified awe. Gunrock removed his fist and pulled the remains of the plant out of the ground with a sharp tug.
Wrapped in the roots was the severed head of a man, the flesh rotting off the skull and worms flowing in and out of the mouth. Gunrock cried out in horror and dropped it, the rotting head rolling across the floor until he stopped at Apollus' feet.
All Gunrock's kids huddled close to their father at the sight.
"I think I'm gonna be sick." Apollus muttered, holding both hands to his mouth
Not far way, Falcon was still looking around for the possibly location of the Wood stone. So far he hadn't much in the way of clues. If the stone was placed here to be hidden then it would have to be somewhere out of the way, where hardly anyone would look.
Suddenly he became aware that his arm left heavier than it should. Looking down he finally noticed Julia hanging onto him with a dreamy expression on her face.
"Julia… we are here for an important reason you know." He reminded her with a stern expression.
"Ah but don't you find the surrounding flowers and the fragrant smells of nature so romantic Edward dear?" She asked him.
Edward sniffed the air, then shuddered involuntarily.
"You call that romantic?" He asked, quickly holding a hand to his nose. Julia blinked and sniffed herself. The stench suddenly in the air was awful.
"Probably that plant that only blooms every two years but stinks that nobodies business." Gourmand ventured coming up behind them as of the smell didn't bother him at all. "I forget the exact name."
Falcon suddenly looked very serious, even trepid.
"No." he stated slowly. It had taken a moment to place where he had smelt that before but now he knew. It had been five years ago, in France. It was the smell of rotting flesh.
Something wet landed on his shoulder and ran down the front of the Englishman's jacket. Another drop fell down the front of Julia's dress. Falcon looked up and drew in a sharp breath through his teeth.
Two cocooned forms hung then, wrapped in a thick silvery spider web like substance and fastened to the ceiling by long creeper plant limbs. They were both wriggling and the sound of muffled voices were coming from within.
"Oh mah gawd!" Julia gasped staring up at them in horror.
"Mamma Mia!" Gourmand gagged looking genuinely horrified.
"…help…." The sound was muffled, but that was the unmistakable word Falcon heard. Without hesitating he jumped up and grabbed a hold of them both by in each arm and tugged. The creepers holding them up gave way and both cocoons crashed to the floor.
The Englishman tried tugging at them but the substance of the cocoons themselves was simply too sticky.
"Gourmand, do you still have your knife?" He asked looking back at the chef.
"I never leave home without it." he stated, reaching his apron and removing a sharpened butchers knife. Falcon took a hold of it and carefully began to cut through the wrapping. With a loud crunch the cocoon he was working on flew apart and a human form collapsed out of it along with a sloshing of transparent liquid.
"You!" Falcon gapped, recognising the man. He was short and sort of scrawny, with jagged hair under a green bandana around the top of his head. It was Puss, one of Octopus twins; the first mate under Kraken himself.
The small man looked up weekly and hardly seemed able to recognise Falcon, looking dizzy and confused, as if half awake. The moment of confusion passed and some clarity returned to his eyes.
"What…" He began, suddenly realization coming into the expression on his face. "Falcon? Where's Octo?" Falcon glanced to the side to the unopened cocoon. Swiftly he sliced it open and Puss' twin brother, the larger and more muscular Octo rolled out.
"What the hell happened here?" The Englishman demanded.
"Forget it landlubber. I'm not sticking around here a moment longer." Puss told him, helping his still half conscious brother up onto his feet. "It'll come back for us at any moment. We're outta here." Falcon placed a firm hand on each of their shoulders.
"Oh no you're not, you're going nowhere until you tell me…" He trailed off, suddenly recognising the fearful expression on their faces as both brothers stared past him.
Julia followed their gaze and screamed. Falcon and Gourmand about faced as a large, green neck rose up from admits the foliage around them, a wide yellow flower on the top of the stalk opening up to reveal a mouth as last a meter across; full of teeth.