Chapter Sixteen

March 2015

Onboard the Portable Field Station, somewhere in Dorset.

'Dorset has woken up today to find one of their most famous landmarks has vanished. The Giant at Cerne Abbas, a popular tourist attraction outlined in chalk on the hills behind the village where I am reporting from today has seemingly been removed from the ground without trace, leaving no sign it was ever there. Locals and police are mystified by its disappearance but suspect it is part of an elaborate hoax being played out in the days leading up to the equinoctial eclipse due on the 20th. This follows on from the disappearance of many old landmarks and chalk figures around the country in the last few weeks. As yet, no group or individual has laid claim to these bizarre events.

In other news, after weeks of rain, the water table is now at unprecedented levels and predictions of long-term flooding across the south of England for the rest of the spring now seem likely. All motorists are urged to check their routes before travelling and all trains to the South West continue to be cancelled. This is Sara Gallbright reporting for 'Morning Southern News' from the heart of Dorset...'

The monitor screen scrolls to another news channel as Daniel Jackson clicks through the remote buttons. All channels are leading with the same story. Another one and always one step ahead of them. Since their return from Avalon, no one had caught sight of Rob Bowden or the Naxen despite daily searches, combing the countryside. And now another disappearance. He mutes the sound and turns back to the small conference table in the back of the portable field station to address those seated around it. On the table is an interactive hologram map of the south of England, pinpointing all the historic sites that have recently disappeared and mapping the rising flood waters across the region. He points to where the Cerne Abbas Giant should be. 'I think you should start your search here today. We are as close as we can get by road, you'll have to go on foot from here.' He points to a spine of high ground leading from their location to the hills above Cerne Abbas.

Around the table, Jack O'Neill, Teal'c, Tara and Kyna nod in agreement. Daniel continues, 'We'll coordinate from this end, see if we can pick up on any weird sightings or media activity that might give us any kind of lead as to where Rob Bowden might be hiding out...'

From further up the vehicle, Ninian interrupts him. 'He is calling them, calling the ancients, awakening them, they are vanished in his thrall and he is slowly drowning this world, turning it to swampland to suit an army of Naxen. You will not be able to fight him or his hordes if this continues much longer. I can help you scout this land much quicker, if only you let me.'

'It's no job for an old man, Ninian, we need to be swift and travel light, cover large areas to try and find him. Plus we have our orders to keep a low profile on you all...' but Jack is cut short by Ninian's laughter at his words, laughter that changes to a high pitched shriek and suddenly, where only a moment ago there was an old man, now there is nothing. Jack blinks in surprise, looking round for the Magus. But he is gone, only Aelix remains nearby and on his arm is a hunting bird, small, grey and sleek with bright amber eyes. The bird stares at Jack and says, 'What, Jack, have you never seen a merlin before? Now will you let me hunt with your team?'

'Ninian? Jask asks.

'Yes, when do we start?' The bird shakes it's feathers and settles more comfortably on Aelix's arm, 'We are wasting valuable time.'

The merlin swoops low across the watery fields, eyes searching for any signs of life under the surface but the meadows are empty under the weight of water, only rotting crops and lost farm machinery below. Every now and then the bird returns to rest on Aelix's arm, reporting back his findings to Jack and then swooping off again in a different direction. The Magus is right, they are covering more ground with his help. Jack calls back to the field station, so far no luck and they are almost at the village of Cerne Abbas.

Agnes sits and watches the hologram map as the waters rise millimetre by millimetre across the landscape. She rests her elbows on the conference table and cups her head in her hands, when something occurs to her.

'Daniel! What if this water is not just to deter his enemy, what if it is defensive, protecting him. Look, like an upside down watery fort, all the low lying land is in this area, he's flooding the Somerset Levels like a big basin... leaving rivers flowing out that can be used, highways for an army. All the sites that have been disappearing are in a ring around this basin, all on high ground, like... like sentry points on an outer wall.'

'The water is bounded by hills pretty much all the way round, nice idea Agnes. We should get the team to look across the Levels.'

'No... not the Levels...' Another thought occurs to Agnes, a lair. 'A cave, a cave system that's been around since prehistoric times. I don't know why I haven't thought of it before, Cheddar Gorge, the caves there have been inhabited since prehistoric times.'

'Cheddar, like the cheese?' Daniel asks.

'Yes, like the cheese... here, I'll call it up on the map. There a deep ravine with a network of caves running back through the hills. Water in front, cliffs behind. Ancient sentries at the perimeters. The perfect lair for a dragon!'

Daniel studies the map and nods, Agnes' logic makes perfect tactical sense. 'We need to relocate to the Mendip Hills, I'll call the team back.'

A couple of hours later the Field Station lorry is parked up in a rocky cleft near Burrington Camp hillfort. It is as close to the Gorge at Cheddar as they dare to go. This time there is no objection to Ninian, disguised as a merlin, making a reconnaissance flight over the gorge itself.

Water fills the narrow, rocky cleft, drowning the entrance to the caves and lapping at the sheer rocks, looking more like a an inlet on the coast than a landlocked gorge. The place is silent, deserted, not a bird or a beast in sight. Ninian's eyes sweep the walls of the gorge, looking for clues, and then he spots it. A corpse of a small pony, impaled on a hunting harpoon, flesh half eaten, body wedged under a rock, close the waterline. Just as a Naxen would kill and eat it. They had found them at last.

Gryst wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his belly full and distended after his meal. The hunt had awakened him to the possibilities of this planet. His new master had made the water spill up across the land so a Naxen army could sweep in through the Stargate and claim these rich and fertile marshlands. Nixor the Dragon King had called up an army of long forgotten creatures, long banished to the ground and bound by rock and river and tree. These creatures would hold the gate for Nixor, allow him to travel to the fourth world. Gryst shudders slightly a the thought of Morrigna, the nightmaere realms where the Maere swarmed in uneasy rest. Nixor could have his army of the nightmaere wraiths, Gryst would be happy with this cave and a supply of livestock. His thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of Nixor, the last vestiges of the human form of Rob Bowden barely visible, moving his fearsome bulk effortlessly over the slippery rock surfaces to the pool to where Gryst is lying. Nixor's skin shimmers with scales that clatter and shiver as the muscles move underneath, their pearly translucence beguilingly reflecting the waters of the cave pools, his talons clawing at the rock walls. Nixor's eye burn with a terror Gryst can barely look at and he averts his gaze at his monstrous master and belches softly to relieve his fear.

'Gryst, it is time for me to return to the gate. The humans are near. You must draw them away from me, your life for the life of your King. ' Part of Gryst wants to resist the inexorable thoughts Nixor is filling his mind with. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to fight, he wanted to sleep off his meal in this cave with nothing but the slow drip of water through rock as company. But the will of his master is much stronger than Gryst and all he can do is nod and obey. 'My life for the Dragon King!'

'How about we blow up the cliffs and block the mouth of the cave, then Ninian can do his spell thing and seal him in and..'

'That's no good, Jack, too near the town below, to blast that amount of rock you'd create a tsunami wiping out the houses...' Daniel pauses, looking at the holographic map of the cave system displayed in the Portable Field Station.

'Well, for you information, Daniel, they seem pretty flooded already.' Jack replies testily.

'Flooded but not destroyed... and how do we explain the sudden destruction of a perfectly stable rock system? There must be another way to get into the caves...'

They are both interrupted by the return of the merlin flying in through the open window with a screech, settling onto the ground and morphing back into Ninian. 'The Naxen is on the move, you must hurry! We must follow him!'