House of Bones (13 page)

“Maybe there's no logic in it at all,” said John, drinking tea. “Maybe some houses are haunted and some aren't, and that's all there is to it.”

Uncle Robin came in, sucking on a pipe that wouldn't light. He leaned over their map and studied it for a very long time without saying anything.

“What do these crosses represent?” he asked them, at last.

“Houses. We've been trying to work out some connection between them. The trouble is, there just doesn't seem to be any. Some of them are old, some of them are new. And they're scattered all over the place.”

Uncle Robin ran his finger north-westwards up the map, through a number of the crosses, until it reached Derbyshire. “Not exactly
scattered
” he said.

“What do you mean?” asked John, getting out of his chair and standing beside him.

“Well, look. If you were to draw a line from this
house here in Salisbury to this house here in Bromsgrove, up near Birmingham, and then on to this house in Congleton, what would you get?”

John was perplexed, but Uncle Robin picked up a newspaper and used the edge of it like a ruler.

“Yeah, I see what you mean,” said John. “A completely straight line.”

“That's right. And that's unusual enough, in itself. But this isn't any old completely straight line, is it? Look where else this line runs through.” With the tip of his tobacco-stained forefinger, he slowly retraced its route through the English shires.

“It runs through Stonehenge,” said John.

“That's it … you've twigged it. And not just Stonehenge, but look here – this Iron Age fort at Old Sarum, and Salisbury Cathedral, and this Iron Age camp at Clearbury Ring, and this Iron Age hill fort at Frankenbury Camp. All of your houses exactly line up with three-thousand-year-old ancient monuments.”

Lucy limped up and stared at the map, too. “And?” she wanted to know.

“And there's only one explanation. This line is the Old Sarum Ley.”

“I don't get it,” said John. “What's the Old Sarum Ley?”

“It's one of Britain's main ley lines, that's what.”

John turned to Lucy but all Lucy could do was shrug.

Uncle Robin said, “Ley lines are straight, unwavering lines that run from one ancient site to another, from one side of the country to the other. Mathematically straight. They're still a mystery, as far as scientists are concerned, because the only way those monuments could have been aligned so accurately would have been by very advanced geometry and a knowledge of astronomy which people simply didn't possess in those days. We're talking about 900 BC, even earlier.”

He peered at the map even more intently. Then he said, “Fetch me that T-square.” John passed it to him, and he began to draw criss-cross lines all across their map.

“There,” he said. “I don't know what you've got yourselves into, but here's your answer.”

“The answer to what, Uncle?”

“The answer to what you've been drawing on your map. Every one of these houses falls exactly on an ancient ley line. Now, I don't know what trouble you've been in, and I know that I've promised not to ask, but not a single one of these houses was built on any of these sites by accident.”

“You're
sure
about that?” John asked him.

“Of course I'm sure, lad, I wrote a book about it.
The Way of the Druids
. Awen Press, 1962. I've got a copy here somewhere if you want to take a look.”

“So what
are
ley lines?” asked Lucy.

“They're supposed to be lines of incredible
magical force, running through the earth's crust. They're like a kind of primitive Internet, if you like, because they were supposed to be capable of carrying messages and warnings – and some scholars say that they were even capable of carrying solid objects, like stones, or daggers, or magical talismans – right from one side of the country to the other. The legend is that the stones from Stonehenge were carried through the earth along ley lines.”

“But those stones weigh tonnes and tonnes.”

“That's right, they do. But some experts say that goes to show just how powerful the ley lines are. They were supposed to have been there since the earth was first created, but it was the Druids who discovered them first, about 1000 BC.”

“Oh, right. The Druids. We did them in school. They worshipped mistletoe, didn't they?”

“The Druids were a religious caste in ancient Britain – and, yes, you're right, they did worship mistletoe, and everything else that came from the oak tree. In fact, they believed that oak trees could actually speak, because they had spirits in them.”

Lucy looked across at John and it was clear from the wide-eyed expression on her face that she was thinking about the statue.

Uncle Robin caught her look but he misinterpreted it. “You're entitled to have your doubts. But it's only fair to the Druids to say that
when Julius Caesar invaded Britain and first came across them, he was deeply impressed by what they knew about the earth and the stars, and what he called ‘the nature of things and the power and prerogatives of the immortal gods'.

“The Druids practised medicine and sorcery, and they believed that when they died their souls would live for ever. They killed people so that they could feed on their spiritual strength. They believed that even after death, when their bodies had rotted away, their spirits would continue to live within the earth, and within the trees; and that they would still go on taking human sacrifices for ever, dragging people into the netherworld.”

“That's scary,” said Lucy.

“Yes, you're quite right. It's
very
scary. But they also believed that men were capable of anything, provided that they remained in close contact with Awen, the divine name, and the eye of the light, which is the sun shining through a specially-built collection of upright stones – like Stonehenge, for instance.”

John sat down and stared at the map. “The trouble is – even if all of these houses
are
built on ley lines, what does it mean? And, you know, what does it
prove
?”

“Don't ask me. I've just given you the answer, but so far you haven't even told me what the question is.”

“The question is, why do you think these houses are all built along ley lines?”

Uncle Robin made another unsuccessful attempt to light his pipe. “Let me tell you one thing – they wouldn't have been built there for the benefit of the occupants. Living on a ley line is rather like living on the San Andreas Fault in America, only much more frightening. An earthquake is only an earthquake, after all. You might get hit on the head by a large chunk of falling masonry. Your house might collapse. But at least an earthquake doesn't walk casually into the room and take your
soul
.”

“What? What are you talking about, your
soul
?”

Uncle Robin said, “I think I've said too much already.”

“Tell us,” John demanded.

“All right, so long as you promise to keep an open mind.
I
believe in the power of ley lines but a lot of people don't. A lot of it is nothing but legend, after all. Fantasy. Stories passed down from mother to daughter, for hundreds and hundreds of years. The Druids gradually died out, but they had themselves buried along ley lines so that even after death their spirits would still be able to travel.”

“Why would the Druids want to travel around the country so much?” asked Lucy.

“Because they're still all-powerful, as far as they're concerned, even though they've been dead for two thousand years. They still think that they
own this country. They still think that they control its destiny. They're still sliding along those ley lines, like spiders sliding along their webs, sliding from north to south, from east to west. And God help you if you're young and vulnerable, and just happen to be standing on top of one of those ley lines when a Druid sweeps past, underneath you.

“You know those old children's warnings about not stepping on the cracks in the pavement, because bears would come up and get you? Those warnings weren't just a game, they were serious. But it wasn't bears that children had to be afraid of. It was the Ancient Order of Druids – and, believe you me, it still is.”

“So they're actually underground?” asked Lucy.

Uncle Robin shook his head. “Not underground as such. They don't have any material substance themselves, not any more, so they exist in anything solid. Walls, doors, chairs, ceilings. If I thought that I was living anywhere near a ley line, I'd throw out my wardrobe. You could get eleven Druids in it, complete with sacrifical white bulls and golden sickles and all.”

John said, “I still don't understand the houses.”

“Well, I can't tell you for certain,” said Uncle Robin. “But I suppose that travelling along ley lines must be a bit like travelling by submarine. Now and again you want to come up to the surface and stretch your legs and take on supplies. My guess is
that these houses were built as places where Druid spirits could rest and recuperate and get their strength up.”

“And
feed
?” said Lucy, her voice slightly wobbly.

“Well, of course, yes, feed.”

Lucy's ankle buckled again and she had to sit down. John knelt beside her and took hold of her hand. Her uncle Robin bent down close and his face was very serious.

“What have you found, you two? I think you'd better tell me now.”

They told him everything – about Mr Rogers, about Liam, and most of all about the statue. He listened to them without interrupting, and when they had finished he still remained silent for almost another two or three minutes, thinking.

“This is almost unbelievable. But I don't have any doubt at all that you've come across the greatest surviving network of pre-Christian magic that's ever been recorded.”

“Do you mean people have found them before?”

“At least twice, so far as I know. You know Mont St Michel, in France – that monastery that's built on a rock and stands in the middle of the sea? That used to be a Druid place of worship before the Romans came.

“The actual monastery was finished about AD 1120 but part of it was burned down in 1203. When the builders came to repair it in 1211, they found the skeletons of more than twenty monks and pilgrims bricked up inside the foundations. Some of the skeletons were actually half-buried in the walls – just like that little girl's skull you found in Tooting.

“There was only one explanation. The spirits of the Druids were still there, after more than a thousand years, deep in the granite beneath the monastery. They had been dragging people into the walls. Human sacrifices, to help them survive. They couldn't see the sun any more – they had to depend on the flesh of people who had recently walked on the surface of the earth, and looked into Awen's eye.

“Some of the victims' bones were completely encased in rock or brick, but the reason why so many of them were only half-buried was because they were priests and they were wearing crucifixes … and the Druid spirits didn't have the power to suck in the symbol of the crucified Christ.

“There was another case in Wales, something in the early 1800s. The skeletons of three young men were discovered in Caerphilly Castle, and again they were half-buried in solid stone.

“This, however –,” he said, waving at the map they had drawn – “this beats everything.”

“What do you think we ought to do?” asked Lucy. “Our friend Courtney wants to call the police
but we're not so sure. We don't think that they're going to believe us.”

“No, well, they won't, will they? You might be lucky and find one detective who believes you. His superior officer might be persuaded, too. But if they're going to bring a prosecution against your Mr Vane, it'll have to be referred to the Crown Prosecution Service, and I can't see anybody
there
risking their career to prosecute anybody for making human sacrifices to ancient Druid spirits, can you?”

“But if it's the only possible explanation…” John began.

Uncle Robin shook his head. “I've been studying Druids and Druidic lore for thirty years, John, and I know what they were capable of doing. But I gave up trying to persuade other people a long time ago. People don't want to believe that there's such a thing as magic. They don't want to think that there are other worlds, right beneath their feet. It rattles them.

“When my book came out
The Sunday Times
said it was ‘mumbo-jumbo'. Since then I haven't written another word on the subject and I've learned to keep my mouth shut. Until now, that is.”

“We have to stop Mr Vane somehow.”

“For your own protection, yes, you do. But right at this moment I don't exactly know how. I need to do some more research for you … and you can do
some research, too. Find out who Mr Vane actually is, where he comes from, some of his background.

“There are three things that we can do. First, we can gather enough information on Mr Vane's connection with these skeletons to have him prosecuted for being an accessory to murder. I'm not very optimistic about that, but we can try. Second, we can find a way to break the link between the houses so that the Druid spirits can't use them any longer. Again, I don't think there's much chance of that, because the ley lines are so strong. Third, we find a way to deal with Mr Vane.”

“Deal with him? What do you mean?”

“Put him out of the property business, for good.”

“You mean
kill
him?”

“Of course not. I'm an anthropologist, John, not a hit man. But I don't think he deserves very much sympathy if he's been doing what you think he's been doing – selling houses to young families so that they can be offered to his spirit friends like sacrificial lambs.”