Millennium Stones

Graham Moyson

Description

On the eve of the new millennium, Zoe and Davy buy a handful of precious stones from an ancient pedlar. She tells them, if they seek knowledge and understanding, to cast one into the Thames at midnight. Sceptical but daring, they follow her instructions. What follows is a bewildering series of adventures in time. Lost, friendless and in constant peril, they witness five extraordinary nights. Contains adult themes. For ages 12 and over.

Informations

• Publié par: Hawkwood Books
• Date de parution: 09 octobre 2011
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781908577238
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Millennium Stones
Graham Moyson
On the stroke of midnight at the start of the third millennium, Zoe and Davy, fed up with the world as it is, are shown the world as it was, and as it will be, when they follow the mysterious instructions of an ancient pedlar. Lost and friendless, they witness five extraordinary nights, all because they bought a handful of precious stones.

For ages 12 and over.

Contains adult themes
The Millennium Stones For Felix Salten
who understood

Text copyright©2011 Graham Moyson
Cover design©Ian M. Purdy
Illustrations©Hollie Allott (printed edtion only)
All rights reserved

Epub Revised Edition 2013 compiled with Jutoh
ISBN: 978-1-908577-23-8
Print Edition ISBN 978-0-9555096-9-8

Conditions of Sale
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any means without the permission of the publisher.

Hawkwood Books 2013
The Pedlar’s Verse
Red jasper shall calm you
when you are lost in the twists of time.
Blue aquamarine shall restore health
to a soul that sickens.
Green malachite offers hope and energy
when you are weary.
Amber lights your way when all is dark,
And black onyx does what it may to ward off evil.
These are the powers of the Millennium Stones
And they are yours to do with as you will.
New Year’s Eve 1999
“Sniff it. Go on. You’ll feel good.”
Davy shook his head.
“No thanks.”
Two girls, one in red, one in blue, both pretty, looking at him with laughing eyes. The girl in red lifted the tiny bottle to her nose, took a deep breath, held it for about three seconds then let the air out slowly.
“See,” she said. “Doesn’t kill you. Feels great.”
“No thanks,” said Davy again.
“Take it,” said the girl in blue. “Freebie.”
Davy put it in his pocket.
“Just say no,” the other girl mocked. She sniffed long and slow from another bottle then the two girls waltzed off arm in arm, giggling.
Davy felt lonely. The party was in full swing so why couldn’t he just join in? It was so simple! He cursed himself for feeling different. It wasn’t the first party he’d been to but it was the most … well, grown up, if that was what it was supposed to be. Couples smooched in the corners, danced close, held hands and whispered sweet nothings. Nobody was alone. Just him.
1999. End of the year party. End of decade party. End of the millennium party! He hoped his life would pick up after this miserable excuse for a good time. He found a spot to rest, sat down and squeezed his knees up to his chin, holding a cheap paper cup of wine with one hand. He made himself as small as possible, feeling humiliated and ill at ease. He put his free hand down on the floor to push himself further away from people and felt a cold, metallic sensation in the palm of his hand. He jumped, pulling his hand away sharply. Looking down he saw a broken syringe.
Damn!
He checked his hand to make sure he hadn’t cut himself then put the syringe in a small waste basket close by.
“You okay?”
A girl in white. Trouser suit. Different.
“I’m fine.”
“You’d think they’d at least dump those things safely.”
“Yes, you would. But they don’t.”
The girl in white sat down beside him. Enigmatic face, serious maybe, but not without humour. Good point, her eyes weren’t misted over with the confusion of drink but clear and bright - very bright. She held a cup of red wine but didn’t drink it, just swirled it round aimlessly. Music blared and they could hardly hear each other. The girl tapped him on the shoulder and pointed up. To the bedroom? No, she put the cup down and mimed putting on a coat and leaving.
“Out,” she said. “If I stay in here any longer I’ll go nuts.”
Important decision, Davy thought. Act on impulse with this mysterious girl or sit alone and get irritated. No contest. They left without notice into the dark and cold midwinter night.
“Sorry,” said the girl. “Hope you didn’t mind. It was doing my head in.” Davy didn’t mind. He was glad to be away from it all. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“Davy.”
“Zoe.” She held out her hand and he shook it. Warm, soft, giving. “You didn’t mind me dragging you away from the party like that, did you?”
“Not a bit. Glad you did.”
“Did you take anything?” asked Zoe.
“Take anything?” he asked. “Oh, right, no,” he said.
“Stick yourself with anything?”
“No.”
“Don’t be shy if you did. Did you?”
“What?”
“Just say no?”
“Yes.”
The girl smiled, a nice smile, not belittling or unsettling.
“They need saving,” she said.
“Who? Them?”
“Mmm. The world. Shall we do it?”
“If you like.”
She took his arm and held him as if he were stopping her from falling.
“Very brave of you,” she said, “talking to a stranger like this.”
“You don’t look dangerous,” said Davy.
“Dangerous people never do,” said Zoe. “But I’m not. Are you?” He shook his head. “Hey,” said Zoe, “bus! Quick!”
Davy had no time to think. The bus pulled up at a stop so close by they were inside and upstairs before he’d decided what to do.
“Woman of action,” he said. She smiled. Crazy but safe, he thought. Beyond the windows they saw countless lights of parties, a sea of stars spread for miles.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said Zoe. “Beats smoke and booze.”
She squeezed his hand. He didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say. She was desperate, he could sense it, lonely like he was, looking for meaning like he was, afraid of being alone like he was. He squeezed her hand too, very lightly. A rare sense of comfort. She said nothing and he drank in the quiet, watching the city slide by beneath them.
When the bus reached Piccadilly she tapped him on the shoulder and they got off, instantly merging with the crowd. The main streets were full to bursting, but some side streets were less busy. They zigged-zagged their way through, trying to get to the river.
“Would you have let anyone pick you up?” she asked.
“Probably,” said Davy. “I’m easy.”
“You’re funny,” said Zoe. “Hold me tight here Davy, you don’t want to lose me now I’m yours.”
He did hold her tight, this mysterious girl who’d hurried him away from the disastrous party into the heart of London’s millennium celebrations.
“Don’t you wish something magical could happen,” said Zoe, “just once. Something special that would make you think there’s more than just us. Don’t you wish that, Trusting Davy?” He didn’t know what he wished, but maybe that was the way, you wouldn’t know till it happened. They’d sidestepped into a quieter street. “Well, do you?”
She looked at him with pleading eyes, searching for an answer but he had none.
“Good evening, young people.”
An old woman stood behind them. Either she’d appeared out of nowhere or they’d walked straight passed her. Despite her age she was bright eyed and curious with the hint of a smile on her ancient face. Around her neck hung a tray of beautiful gemstones, too beautiful for her to be selling on the street corners of a mad, bad sin city like London.
“Hello,” said Zoe.
“Ah, so sweet,” said the old woman. “What do you think of my wares?” she asked.
The stones were captivating, but obviously fake. No one would sell priceless gems in such a way, but they caught the eye and Zoe gazed at them, intrigued.
“They’re lovely,” she said. “Not real though, are they?”
“Real as you or I, sweetheart. Would you like one? Touch them, feel them.”
Zoe held one, then another. They felt heavy for their size, for they were quite small, no more than a centimetre, but very well cut for fakes.
“I like them,” said Zoe, “but we can’t afford them. Sorry.”
“Wait,” said Davy, looking for himself. “Let me get you one.”
“Ah,” said the woman, “a gentleman, and generous of heart. Which do you like, young sir?”
Davy liked them all.
“You choose, Zoe. How much?” he asked the woman.
“A pound,” she said.
“Just one pound!” Davy exclaimed. “That’s cheap!”
“I can make it more expensive if you like,” said the woman with a shrug and a smile.
“No, that’s fine, if that’s the price,” said Davy, “but I suppose ... if they’re just glass...”
“Did I say they were glass,” the woman answered. “These are millennium stones, the real thing, not glass, sir, not glass at all.”
“Millennium stones!” Davy scoffed. “There’s no such thing!”
“Indeed there is, for here they are,” laughed the old woman. “Cast one into water at the turning of the year and you will see what you will see.”
“What,” said Davy, “like Jack and the Beanstalk? Will I see a giant plant reach up to the sky in the morning?”
“Who knows what will happen,” said the woman. “I don’t. Come now, it’s cold and the new year is almost upon us,” she said. “If you have the silver on you, take five for the beautiful young lady, and this pretty bag to put them in.”
She showed them a little golden pouch, like a doll’s handbag, soft and shimmering in the light from the lamppost.
Zoe lifted a clear blue crystal from the tray.
“They are attractive Davy,” she said.
“So, either a pound each or five for five pounds?” said Davy, “that’s not much of a bargain.”
“I was never one for business,” said the old woman, “but they will bring you wisdom, and the young lady likes them, don’t you my dear?”
Zoe was still looking at them, in fact the more she looked, the lovelier they were. The colours were gorgeous, so deep and so rich.
“I do.”
They glinted, even in the darkness, not like glass at all, more like the gemstones they were supposed to be.
“I’ve got five Zoe,” said Davy, “honestly, no problem.”
“No,” said Zoe, “we go fifty-fifty. It’s not exactly breaking the bank, is it? Okay, “she said to the woman, “we’ll take five.”
“Then choose with an open heart,” said the woman, giving Zoe the pouch, “for I see you have an open heart with which to choose.”
Davy held the pouch whilst Zoe popped in a red stone, a blue one, a green one, an amber one and a jet black one. The old woman watched Zoe, not the stones, as if she trusted her completely and was more interested in her than the sale.
“That’s it,” said Zoe.
They gave her the money and the woman looked at it quickly, as