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Authors: Anthony Horowitz

BOOK: Raven's Gate
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“But
you
know,” Richard said.

Dravid nodded gravely. “Yes.” He leant forward. “Stonehenge is four or five thousand years old. But it wasn’t by any means the first stone circle ever built. In fact it was nothing more than a copy of one that had been around a lot longer. Raven’s Gate was the first stone circle and all the later ones were nothing more than imitations.”

“But where is it?” Matt asked. “What happened to it?”

“A great many of the stone circles in Britain have been destroyed over the years. Some were pulled down by farmers who needed the land for agriculture. The spread of towns and cities finished off others. A few simply collapsed or crumbled away over the years.

“But something very strange happened to Raven’s Gate. At some time in the Middle Ages it was deliberately taken down and smashed. More than that. Each and every one of its stones was ground to powder. The powder was loaded on to carts and carried to the four corners of Britain: north, south, east and west. Then it was poured into the sea. Something about the circle seemed so frightening, so evil, that the people who set about this fantastic task were determined that every grain should be separated. Nobody ever spoke of it again. It was as if Raven’s Gate had never existed.”

“So how did you hear of it?” Richard asked. It seemed to Matt that he still sounded doubtful.

“You’re a journalist, Mr Cole. You obviously think that if something hasn’t been written down, then it can’t possibly be true. Well, there have been some written records. The diary of a Spanish monk. A carving on a temple. A few letters and other documents. And of course there has always been a strong oral tradition. How did I hear of it?” Dravid half-smiled but his eyes were dark and serious. “I belong to an organization – you might call it a secret society – and we have kept the story alive for centuries. We have passed it from generation to generation.

“That society is called the Nexus.”

There was a jug of water on the desk. Dravid reached out and poured himself a glass. He drank half of it, then continued.

“There are twelve members of the Nexus, as there always have been. Incidentally, a nexus means a connection – and we are, I suppose, connected by what we know. Susan Ashwood is a member and there are ten others apart from myself from all over the world. In due course you will meet them, Matt. They will certainly want to meet you. The whole purpose of the Nexus, the reason that it exists, is to help you with what you have to do.”

“What do I have to do?” Matt asked. “You’re talking about stuff that happened thousands of years ago. Why are you telling me this now?”

“I’m about to explain. But it isn’t easy. I can understand how hard it must be for you to take all this on board.”

Professor Dravid finished his water while he collected his thoughts.

“There are some who believe that a great civilization existed on this planet before the Greek empire of 600 BC. Even before the Egyptians, who had flourished two thousand years earlier. I’m talking about the time of Atlantis, perhaps as long ago as ten thousand years. In a way, I suppose, I’m talking about the beginning of the world as we know it today.

“This first civilization was destroyed … slowly and deliberately. Creatures of unimaginable power and evil arrived in the world. They were called the Old Ones and their only desire was to see pain and misery all around them. The Christian Church talks about Satan, Lucifer and all the other devils. But these are just memories of the greatest, original evil: the Old Ones. They thrived on chaos. Once they had gained a foothold on the planet, they started a war. Torturing, killing, spreading mass destruction everywhere they went. That was their only pleasure. If they’d had their way, they would have reduced the whole world to an empty swamp.

“But according to the stories, there was a miracle, and it arrived in the shape of five young people: four boys and a girl.

“Nobody knows where they came from. They have no names. They have never been described. But together they organized the resistance against the Old Ones. What was left of humanity joined together behind the Five and there was a single, final battle in which the future of the world would be decided.

“The five children won that battle. The Old Ones were expelled, sent to another dimension, and a barrier, a magical gate, was built to make sure they could never come back. This gate took the form of a stone circle and later on it came to be known as Raven’s Gate.”

“Wait a minute,” Richard cut in. “You said Raven’s Gate was destroyed because it was evil.”

“I said it was destroyed because the people
thought
it was evil,” the professor corrected him. “They were mistaken. They gave it a name, Raven’s Gate, because the raven has always been associated with death. They had a memory that connected the stones with something horrible… But after all the years that had passed, they had forgotten what it was. And in the end they came to think that it was the stones themselves that were evil. So they tore them down.”

“So the gate was destroyed!” Matt exclaimed.

Professor Dravid shook his head. “The
stones
were destroyed, not the gate,” he said. “How can I explain it to you? It’s like an idea. If you write something down on a sheet of paper and then burn the paper, do you burn the idea? Of course not! The stones are gone, but the gate is still in place.”

Richard sighed. “Let me get this straight, Professor,” he said. “A very long time ago, the world was ruled by evil creatures called the Old Ones. However, five kids appeared and threw them out. These kids then built a barrier, which came to be known as Raven’s Gate. Unfortunately the stones that marked the gate were knocked down by medieval peasants who didn’t know any better. But it doesn’t matter that much because the gate is still there after all. Is that about it?”

“Your sarcasm does you no credit, Mr Cole,” Dravid replied. “But you have summed up what I said more or less accurately.”

“Miss Ashwood knew about this?” Matt said.

“Yes. As I explained to you, we share our knowledge. We have sworn not to reveal it. That’s why she couldn’t tell you anything when you met.”

“But you’ve told us,” Matt went on. “You said that the main reason for the Nexus was to help me with something I have got to do. But I’m still not clear what that is – or what any of this has got to do with me.”

“I think you know.”

“No!” Matt looked him in the eye. “You’re wrong.”

“Then you must meet the Nexus. The other members are on their way back to London. They’ll be here tomorrow night. I’ll look after you until then.”

“Forget it,” Richard said. “We’ve got day-return tickets. We’re going back to York this evening.”

“That’s the last thing you must do. It’s vital you don’t go anywhere near Lesser Malling.” He turned again to Matt. “I don’t want to frighten you any more than you have been already, but I believe you are in terrible danger.”

“Why?”

“I’ve told you why Raven’s Gate was built. It was a barrier between two worlds and it was closed and locked. But for many centuries there have been people who have been trying to open it again. Of course, they haven’t found it easy. They’ve had to develop special knowledge … special powers.”

“You mean magic,” Matt said.

“We are just two days away from the start of Roodmas,” Dravid said. “It begins at sunset on the thirtieth of April. It is one of the most important days in the witches’ calendar. A day when dark powers are at their strongest. When black sabbath is celebrated and evil has its way.”

“Mrs Deverill…” Matt began.

“I have absolutely no doubt that she and the other villagers of Lesser Malling are involved in some sort of black magic. Of course you will sneer, Mr Cole. But black magic is still practised today all over the world. Yorkshire has a long history of witchcraft – and although the witches of medieval times are gone, their descendants live on.

“A black sabbath on Roodmas will require three ingredients, the same as you will find in any such ceremony. The first is ritual. Matt has already described the whispers that he heard. The second is fire. You saw the dogs rise out of the flames. But the third, of course, is blood. They must have a sacrifice, and the best sacrifice of all would be that of a child…”

Matt stood up. All the colour had drained from his face. “They brought me there to kill me,” he said.

“I’m afraid so.”

“We should go to the police!” Richard exclaimed. “You’re talking about a bunch of lunatics, and the whole lot of them ought to be locked up…”

“Matt has already been to the police,” Dravid reminded him. “Two of them ignored him. The one who didn’t, died.”

“Why me?” Matt asked. “Why did they choose me? Why couldn’t it be someone else?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Dravid said quietly. He stopped and laid a hand gently on Matt’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it must be for you to accept all this. But you’ll have time. I’ll put you in a hotel tonight. The Nexus will take care of the cost. And from now on, we’ll look after you.”

“Why? What do
you
want from me?”

“We just want you to be safe.”

“I wish it wasn’t so cold,” Matt said.

The three of them left the study. They went along the corridor past a row of glass cases. Wax figurines of primitive people stared out at them. The sound of their footsteps echoed against the ceiling, flapping about the air like invisible birds. Halfway down the main staircase, Dravid stopped. “The keys!” he said. “They’re in my jacket! I’ll need them to let us out.”

Hastily he stumbled back up the staircase and along the corridor. Matt watched him. It was only now that he realized how vast the museum was. Professor Dravid was just a tiny figure, crossing a balcony high above them. They saw the door of the study open and the light go on.

“Listen, Matt,” Richard said. “This is all just a bad dream. Nothing can happen to you.”

Matt stepped back from him. “You still don’t believe it!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah – sure I believe in it. Old Ones and gates and witches and blood sacrifice! Look around you, for heaven’s sake! There are rockets going to Mars. We’ve got satellites beaming phone conversations all around the world. They’ve unlocked the genetic code. And you’ve still got throwbacks like Dravid going on about devils and demons. Well take it from me, Matt. These five kids saving the world with magical powers don’t exist.”

“Of course they exist,” Matt said. And suddenly he knew. It was very simple. “I’m one of them.”

There was a sound. Something invisible had been thrown – or had flown – through the air. Matt and Richard heard someone cry out and looked back at the stairs. Sanjay Dravid had appeared again. He was walking slowly, his footsteps uneven, as if he was drunk or drugged. His hand was clasped to his neck. He stopped and let his hand fall and, with a gasp of horror, Matt saw a terrible wound – a gaping, horizontal line, perhaps cut with a sword – across the professor’s neck. Blood curtained down, soaking into his jacket and shirt. Dravid raised his hands feebly. He tried to speak. Then he toppled forward on to his face and lay still.

Richard swore. Matt tore his eyes away from the motionless figure and looked at the main doors on the other side of the gallery. It was colder than ever. Even without seeing it, he knew there was danger all around.

And the doors were locked.

BONES

For what seemed like an eternity Richard and Matt stood where they were, staring at the still figure lying at the top of the stairs. Blood was spreading around Dravid’s head. But there was no sign of an attacker. The museum was as empty and silent as it had been when they first came in. And there was something else. The air was icy and seemed to have thickened. It had a white, smoky quality, like a bad photograph.

Richard was the first to recover. “Wait here!” he said, then bounded forward towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Matt called after him.

“The keys!”

He took the steps two at a time, not wanting to get any closer to Dravid but knowing there was no other way. The blood had reached the edge of the first step and was already trickling down. Richard knelt down beside the body, trying not to look at the horrible wound. Then suddenly Dravid opened his eyes. Miraculously he was still alive.

“Five…” The single word was all he could manage.

“Don’t say anything. I’ll get help.” Richard didn’t know what else to say. He was lying. The professor was far beyond help.

Dravid extended a trembling hand, which clasped a ring of keys. Richard took them gently. For a moment the two of them looked into each other’s eyes. Dravid tried to speak again but it was too much for him. He coughed painfully. Then his head fell back and his eyes closed.

Holding the keys, Richard stood up. He could see Matt below him, some distance away, and knew what he was thinking. Right now there was a killer inside the museum. Someone – or something – had attacked Professor Dravid and they would surely be next. But what were they up against? Why couldn’t they see anything? Moving slowly now, Richard went back down the stairs, his every sense alert. The two of them were so small in this enormous place. He felt horribly exposed.

“Did you get them?” Matt asked.

“Yes.” Richard held up the keys. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What about Professor Dravid?”

“He’s dead. I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can do.”

“But what killed him?”

“I don’t know.” Richard gazed upwards, his eyes sweeping across the vaulted ceiling. “But let’s not stay to find out.”

He turned and at that moment there was a sudden whirl in the air. Matt threw a protective arm across his face and staggered into Richard.

“What’s wrong?” Richard demanded.

“There was something…” Matt looked around him but there was nothing there. “Something flew near my head,” he insisted.

“Flew?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see what it was?”

“No. But I sensed it. It came so close… I felt it go past.”

“I can’t see anything.”

But then it dived towards them again, sweeping down out of the mist, and this time there could be no mistaking it, even if it took Matt precious seconds to work it out. Triangular and white, the creature was neither living nor dead, coming at them like something out of a hideous dream. It had eye sockets but no eyes, wings but no feathers, a bulging ribcage with nothing inside. Moving faster than ever, almost a blur, it shot down. Its claws were stretched out and its needle-sharp teeth were bared in an evil grimace. Matt fell back. He felt one of the wings shudder past his face and knew that if he had waited a second longer he would have been decapitated. Now he understood what had happened to Professor Dravid.

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