The Wyrm Conspiracy

By Richard Middleton

A thousand years have passed since the dreaded Wyrm King nearly succeeded in enslaving the townspeople of Wormwell. Now memories of the Wyrm King have faded to nothing more than fireside tales and nursery rhymes. But the Wyrm King has been waiting, and plotting, and his patience has finally been rewarded. Powerful people in the town want the Wyrm King to return, and they will stop at nothing to achieve their goal.

Only Emily and Sam stand between these powerful forces and the destruction of Wormwell. But what can two twelve-year olds do against such evil? Their quest to uncover the conspiracy and stop the Wyrm King will take every last measure of their courage, invention and determination.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Richard Middleton
• Release date: Sep 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9781507599990

Richard Middleton

Born in the colonies, educated in England, Richard Middleton is a member of the Society of Archer Antiquaries and now lives in the Colonies again. His wife, who edited out all the vainglorious bits of this biography (which is why it is now so short), has declined (refused point-blank) to have The Practical Guide to Man-Powered Bullets dedicated to her, and only wishes it recorded that she is a saint for putting up with all Richard's experimental weapon-making activities. Though Richard's interest always returns to the simple catapult, over the last 30 years he has made countless bows, crossbows, and even airguns to study the velocity and trajectory patterns of their missiles. He likes to test things for himself rather than to believe handed-down orthodoxies - an attitude not without its costs, some might add.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Emily leapt to her feet in panic, her heart pounding. Her dinner plate tumbled off her lap and smashed unnoticed on the flagstones at her feet. She looked around frantically, searching for the source of her sudden fear.

But the peaceful evening scene offered nothing. Most of the evening boat traffic on the canal her house backed onto had died down now and the only sounds were those of evening meals being served and eaten, distant chatting, and a lone blackbird singing from the top of a slate roof.

For a moment the feeling that she should be doing something immensely important right now was overwhelming.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Sam, startled.

A shriek up the canal to their left made Emily turn sharply, but it was only one of the little Mewick twins playing out before bedtime.

The shriek seemed to break the spell. The urgent feeling began to fade, and Emily sighed and turned back to look at her friend. Sam was sitting with his back to the stone wall with his dinner plate on his lap, looking up at her anxiously from under his mess of fair hair.

‘I get this weird feeling,’ she said, ‘like there’s something really important I should be doing.’

Sam regarded the mess at her feet. ‘Like eat your dinner?’

Emily glumly regarded the remains of eel and mash splattered amongst the pieces of smashed plate. She picked out the shards of plate carefully and took them inside to the kitchen bin. She grabbed a broom and swept the spoiled food off the landing stage into the canal below.

‘You can share what’s left of mine,’ Sam offered.

‘It’s ok, I wouldn’t want you to waste away.’

Emily watching the scraps spiral slowly down through the dark water. Two fish-shaped shadows, each as big as a good-sized dog and with a wide flattish head and a broad mouth curved into a genial smile, rose from the depths to gulp at the remains, then sank back into darkness, their whiskers waving gently in farewell as they disappeared.

‘Your dad’s not back yet, have his before it goes cold.’

Emily frowned. Dad should have been back home nearly an hour ago, and he was almost never late. Worry was already scratching at her.

‘I’m sure he’ll be back soon,’ said Sam.

‘Of course he will.’ She tried to sound more confident than she felt. Where was he?

‘Parents, you can’t trust ’em,’ said Sam, sympathetically.

Emily nodded in agreement. Both their mothers had abandoned them; Emily’s when she was a baby; Sam’s more recently. And neither of their fathers were particularly diligent. Sam’s dad was a nightwatchman at the Fountainhead brewery and as he slept during the day, he and his son rarely coincided. Consequently as well as cooking for herself and her dad, twelve-year old Emily tended also to include Sam, whose cooking was dreadful. Left to his own devices Emily was confident that he would soon poison himself.

Sam finished his pie and scraped the last of the buttery mash off his plate into his mouth. He stood and started to hand the plate to Emily, then caught himself and said, ‘I’ll do the washing up, then.’

Emily swiftly took the plate from him. ‘Save yourself for a night when I haven’t already dropped mine.’

Sam grinned.

Emily took the plate indoors and put the kettle on.

‘Is he alright, your dad?’ asked Sam, standing in the doorway. ‘He’s seemed a bit, you know, strange lately.’ He thought about what he’d said and amended it to, ‘Well, stranger.’

Emily busied herself making three cups of tea, including one for her dad on the illogical basis that if there was a hot drink waiting for him he would have to arrive home in time to drink it before it went cold.

She shrugged. ‘He gets obsessed with things,’ she said. ‘He spends a lot of time in his study looking at old maps. He’s into local history. Old buildings and stuff. Then he goes out and studies them.’

‘He looks tired.’

Emily nodded. ‘He studies them a lot. Doesn’t sleep much.’

She was always worrying about her dad, not least because there was no-one else in the family to do it, but Sam was right. Recently her dad had looked stressed and ill.

So him not being home on time tonight was a bigger worry than usual.

They took their tea out onto the small landing stage that connected their two houses and provided mooring for the family boats. Emily’s own kayak, the Linnet, was tied up against the house wall, leaving space for her dad to moor his launch when he finally returned home.

‘That’s weird,’ said Sam, looking down into the water.

‘What’s that?’

‘Look at the fish.’

Emily peered down into the dark water and saw fish of all kinds, small and large, spiky perch and razor-toothed pike, slow-moving carp and sinuous eels, silvery rudd and roach and chub were all streaming through the water past them.

As she watched, a shoal of minnows leapt out of the water in the centre of the canal and then dived back in again, spattering the surface like glittering raindrops.

In the depths she caught sight of the dark, slowly undulating shapes of the two catfish as they rose to join the strange procession, and she felt a sudden chill as she watched them disappear from view.

Chapter 2

‘What d’you think they’re doing?’

‘Maybe someone’s feeding them.’ Sam didn’t sound convinced.

‘I just did. Did you see those minnows jump out of the water?’ As she said it, another shoal did the same, scattering over the surface of the water like a handful of thrown sand. ‘They only do that if they think something’s going to eat them.’

Sam turned to her in excitement. ‘That’s it!’

‘What is?’

‘They think something’s going to eat them.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like that thing that was in the paper.’

Emily shook her head. ‘Shouldn’t believe what you read in the paper.’

Sam wagged his finger at her. ‘Shame on you, Em. What job does your dad do again?’

Emily said, reluctantly, ‘Editor. He edits the paper.’

‘There you go.’

‘What was it anyway?’ She knew already what he was going to say. It was the most popular story in the Inquisitor.

‘The Beast of the Backwaters! What else would be scaring the fish?’

Emily cringed. It was the sort of story that her dad ran in the paper during the summer when not a lot else seemed to be happening.

‘It’s got to be that, right?’ said Sam enthusiastically. ‘They reckon it’s a huge scaly thing. Enormous. The paper made a big thing about how people were afraid to go out on the water anymore and demanded immediate action from the Mayor.’

‘Forget it.’ Emily dismissed it with a shake of her head. ‘It’s a silly season story.’

Sam wasn’t to be put off so easily. ‘There was a photo of the Beast in the paper.’

‘That was a very blurred photo of someone’s dog.’

‘It was in the water.’

‘The dog was swimming.’

‘It had a severed arm in its mouth!’

‘That was a stick! Dogs do that, carry sticks. Even in the water.’

Sam shrugged. ‘One dodgy photo doesn’t mean that the thing doesn’t exist.’

‘My dad said it was nonsense and I was not to worry about it. He should know.’

‘He should tell the fish that. They’re really upset about something.’

Emily had to admit that Sam was right about that. All kinds of fish continued to swim frantically past them. Looking up the canal in the direction they were coming from, Emily couldn’t see anything that might frighten them.

The evening was still and clear. The early autumn sky was cloudless and silvery. The evening sun was still touching the tops of the west-facing roofs and the high Abbey wall beyond them, leaving the buildings and canal beneath in twilight. In the distance Emily could hear the laughing, excited voices of the Mewick twins as they wound themselves up in a final push before going to bed.

The noise of the kids was drowned by the sound of an engine from the other end of the canal, and a small launch veered into view around the corner.

Emily’s heart leapt, recognising the boat. It was her father. At last.

The trick with the tea had worked.

But something was wrong. The launch was going too fast. Emily’s heart thumped as she watched it swing wildly into Eel Way and her dad had to throttle up desperately with a roar and a cloud of blue smoke to avoid ramming it sideways into the Applewick’s landing stage at the end of the terrace.

Then with a spin of the wheel he regained control and the Merlin surged forward and she could breathe again. He powered down the canal towards home leaving a rolling backwash that broke noisily against the houses behind him, and which would no doubt prompt a flood of letters to the editor in the morning about inconsiderate driving on residential canals.

Eric kept up speed until he was within a stone’s throw of the landing stage, then he reversed the engine harshly, churning the water into a boiling froth at the Merlin’s stern, and drifted up to the landing stage and turned off the engine. Emily caught the mooring rope that he flung to her and she secured it to a bollard.

Before she’d even finished tying it Eric had leapt off the launch onto the landing stage beside her and dashed inside the house. She could hear the thump thump thump of his feet going up the stairs to his study at the top of the house.

‘Blimey, he’s in a hurry,’ observed Sam. ‘Must be a big story’.

Emily went inside and stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up, her anxiety heightened rather than relieved by her father’s eventual appearance. His job as editor meant he rarely actually went out and covered a story himself, and she’d never seen him this worked up before.

Muffled swearing drifted down from above and the sound of drawers being opened hurriedly and things being knocked over. Finally there was a cry of triumph and Eric pounded down the stairs again. His normally curly fair hair was dark with sweat and his thin face was flushed, the thin scar on the side of his face pale. His expression was odd.

‘Dad, what’s…’ started Emily as he thundered down the last flight towards her, but Eric barely slowed as he went past and headed outside again to the launch. He was holding something thin and twiggy in his hand, a strange object that Emily didn’t recognise, the thin dark arms almost forming a star shape, three spreading forward, two backwards.

‘Sorry, Em, big story. Back later, don’t wait up.’

She followed him outside. He untied the mooring rope from the bollard and threw it onto the launch, then leapt aboard.

‘Can I come, dad?’ Even if she had to stay out of the way on the launch whilst he did his job, at least she’d get to talk to him on the way there and back.

Eric stopped in his tracks and looked horrified.

‘No! No way. Definitely not!’ He said it so vehemently that Emily actually stepped away from him.

Eric shook his head, then said more calmly, ‘No, sorry, Em, it’s too dange…well, I mean there might be things a twelve year old shouldn’t see.’

She stared at him, confused. What was he talking about? What was dangerous?

He frowned back at her. ‘Promise me you’ll stay here.’

He looked so agitated that she immediately nodded. ‘Of course. I promise.’

He nodded and looked relieved. ‘Good. I’ve got to go. I’ll be back late. I’ll see you in the morning.’ He started the engine and the Merlin nosed forward.

‘Love you, dad,’ called Emily, but he didn’t hear her and soon the Merlin was far up the canal and then around the corner and out of sight.

Emily stood on the landing stage, stunned. She’d never seen him like that. His expression had been very odd indeed. Her heart went out to him. If he was in danger, then…

A door banged shut behind her and she turned to see Sam locking his front door. He put the key in his jeans pocket and grinned at her.

‘So, are we going to follow him?’

‘I promised him.’

‘And?’

‘Of course we are.’

Chapter 3

Emily realised with relief that now she’d made the decision to head out into Wormwell, the uneasy feeling that she should be somewhere else had almost disappeared.

‘You noticed that he went towards whatever’s scaring the fish?’ said Sam.

Emily nodded. ‘Untie the Linnet. I’ll be back in a moment.’

She scooted back into her house and pulled on her walking shoes. She grabbed a warm jacket and a torch from the store cupboard under the stairs, then ran outside again, locking the door behind her.

Sam had untied the Linnet and was already settled on the front seat. He leaned out and held the kayak against the landing stage to steady it whilst Emily got in. Emily settled herself and picked up her paddle.

‘Ready, crew?’

‘Shipshape, Captain.’

Emily used her paddle to push the kayak away from the landing stage and they set off, paddling with light, easy strokes that quickly settled into a familiar rhythm. At first the Merlin was easy to follow on the quiet backwaters, as it had left a slick trail on the water which was mostly undisturbed by other craft. Although the sun had set the sky was still bright and the canal was a silver pathway between the dark houses.

The trail led them through a couple of crossways and into increasingly large canals and Emily soon recognised the route her father was taking: it led to the High Canal, the main waterway which ringed the centre of the town and separated the mainly residential Outwaters from the more business and Civic-oriented Abbeyside.

‘Oden’s bloody eye,’ Sam swore. ‘How are we going to find him now?’

They looked out across High Canal at the stream of boat traffic that had erased any chance of them following the Merlin’s trail.

They tried to spot the Merlin amongst the watertaxis, barges and launches that chugged noisily along the wide waterway, their running lights bright in the evening gloom. There did seem to be fewer craft on the water than normal, however. Perhaps Sam was right about people being too scared to use their boats. The streetlights had already lit and were casting yellow pools of light onto the last of the workers still trudging home along the stoneways that ran along either bank and tramping over the bridges that linked the two halves of the town.

‘I can’t see it. Let’s have a look down that alleyway opposite.’

They skimmed under the prow of a slow-moving, brightly-lit watertaxi, earning a blast on the horn from the irritated pilot which Sam responded to with a cheerful wave, and shot to safety beneath the bridge on the far side, back-paddling hard to bring the Linnet to a stop.

‘What d’you think, Em?’

‘I think this is it,’ she said. ‘Look at the watermark on the walls. A fast boat’s been down here recently.’ There was a dark, damp stripe on both walls, nearly a foot above the waterline, where the backwash from the boat had surged up.

There was little light between the high buildings and Sam looked nervous about heading into the dark corridor. Emily had to admit to herself that she also felt a bit edgy.

‘There’s a lamp under your seat, Sam. Fasten it to that bracket on the prow.’

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. When he’d secured it to the bracket he switched it on and a powerful, wide beam lit up the water and the walls ahead. They immediately felt better.

They resumed paddling. The narrow alleyway twisted and turned and the looming walls threw the splash of their paddles back at them with strange echoes that made it sound like they were surrounded by a team of ghostly kayakers. Fortunately they soon joined a larger canal that stretched left and right, empty of other craft and bordered by high, many-storied warehouses and left the phantom kayakers behind. The slick trail left by the Merlin led to the left and they headed in that direction.

They had left the noise of the High Canal behind and it was now so quiet that every sound they made seemed to be amplified hugely. The few small windows set into the grimy brickwork of the warehouse walls were blank and dark. Ahead of them the canal curved out of sight, heading even further inwards.

Emily shivered. When she and Sam explored the town in the kayak, they mostly stuck to the waterways on the Outwaters side, and rarely ventured into the Abbeyside with its large forbidding buildings.

Now they were not only deep in the Abbeyside but drawing ever closer to the Abbey itself at the very centre of the town, a place of dark rumour and late-night tales, not least because the monks within were rarely if ever seen, but more so because they were supposed to worship water or something equally strange, not Father Oden’s family of gods and goddesses that Emily was familiar with.

‘Can you hear that?’ Emily started in surprise at the sudden sound of Sam’s voice, even though he’d whispered. There was a faint throbbing sound from back the way they had come. Looking back they could see a bright light heading rapidly towards them. The throbbing grew louder and deeper and suddenly they had to shield their eyes as the searchlight picked them out and held on them as a Wardens’ Patrol boat roared up alongside, its wake causing the Linnet to pitch and roll alarmingly.

The Patrol boat idled its engines and several Wardens came to the guardrail and looked down at them. The searchlight was almost painfully bright and behind it the Wardens were virtually in shadow. Behind them on the deck there were mounds of equipment that Emily couldn’t quite make out.

One of the Wardens lifted a megaphone and barked through it, ‘What are you children doing here at this time of night? Go home.’

Beneath his abrupt tone Emily thought there was a hint of fear.

‘You shouldn’t be here. Clear the area immediately. There’s been an incident. Turn your craft around and go home. No questions. Go.’

He lowered the megaphone and waved them to turn the kayak around. Unwillingly Emily and Sam turned the Linnet until she was pointing back the way they had come.

‘What’s going on? What’s happened?’ Sam shouted.

The Warden with the megaphone muttered something to the Warden standing next to him, then raised the megaphone again.

‘I told you to go home.’

His amplified, angry voice clamoured off the walls around them.

‘Go home right now. If I catch you anywhere near here when we come back I’ll have you locked up.’

Chapter 4

He gestured to the Warden standing in the wheelhouse and the engines roared back into life. The Patrol boat surged away, leaving Emily and Sam bobbing up and down in the choppy water.

Sam stared after the departing boat. ‘What was his problem?’

As soon as they were out of sight Emily dug her paddle into the water and turned the kayak around again.

‘Did you think he sounded scared? I did.’

Sam shrugged. ‘He sounded angry.’

‘Did you see what was behind him, on the deck?’

‘No. What was it?’

‘Fishing nets. Really big fishing nets.’

Sam’s eyes widened. ‘They are after the Beast! Told you.’

‘I’ll believe it when I see it.’

Sam looked anxious. ‘What do we do if the Wardens come back? I’m not that keen on being locked up.’

‘Keep any eye out for hiding places as we go. It’s nearly dark now anyway, as long as we switch the light off as soon as we hear them, they’ll never see us.’ Emily sounded more confident than she felt. But her dad was out there and she wanted to know that he was safe.

Sam nodded. ‘Right.’

They turned the kayak around again and followed the slick trail of the Patrol boat, keeping close to the bank where pilings and jetties would provide refuge if they needed to hide suddenly. The canal continued to curve inwards, then split into two. They took the left fork.

The buildings around them began to change, the functional brick warehouses being replaced by grand, marble-clad civic buildings. The white stone glowed eerily when their light struck it.

Strange echoes from up ahead began to clatter off the walls around them. Nervously, Sam leaned forward and switched the light off. Hugging the bank, they paddled the kayak cautiously towards the junction that came into view around the curve of the canal. Occasional flashes of light from the left lit up the buildings in front of them. The clamour of shouts and engines grew louder. A launch roared across the junction in front of them, searchlight pointed forward. When it had passed they edged up to the corner and Sam leaned forward onto the prow of the kayak and peered around. After a moment he beckoned Emily to paddle forward. They slid the kayak around the corner under the lee of the wall and stopped, astonished by the chaotic scene taking place before them.

There were three patrol boats crowding the canal and a couple of

Reviews for The Wyrm Conspiracy

[darthdeverell · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Richard Middleton’s "The Wyrm Conspiracy" is sure to appeal to readers of young adult fantasy novels. The book follows two twelve-year olds, Emily and Sam, living in the fictional city of Wormwell, a city built around canals. Much like J.K. Rowling’s protagonists in "Harry Potter," Emily and Sam uncover a mystery and, not trusting adults to do an adequate job, take it upon themselves to save the day, nearly causing disaster in the process, but succeeding in the end. The characters are easy to follow, though they follow tried-and-true archetypes.Middleton’s greatest achievement is the world of Wormwell itself. With its circular structure, inner canal ring with smaller waterways, surrounding river, and the sheer cliff wall to the north, Wormwell reminds the reader of Plato’s description of Atlantis in the "Timaeus and Critias." The differing religions, from the vaguely-Norse beliefs of Emily and Sam, to the water-worshipping Monks who run the mysterious Abbey, and the semi-Celtic beliefs of the Wyrm’s thralls, evoke the variegated beliefs of Tamora Pierce’s Tortall series. Finally, the world blends the old and the new, with an ancient city with archaic beliefs and magic while still using modern technology like motor-driven boats and modern clothing. Indeed, Middleton’s description of the Pinwheel vehicles, depicted on the book’s cover, actually crosses over into the James Bond variety of high technology.Middleton masterfully crafts suspense while still presenting a fully-defined world for his reader the manner in which he structures his chapters is sure to keep young readers up late, unable to put the book down to sleep. The weakest part of the book comes from Emily and Sam who, as previously mentioned, fall into typical archetypes of teen fantasy, but even here Middleton gives them enough characterization to remain interesting while having them interact with his fascinating world, so this is a relatively minor issue. In sum, "The Wyrm Conspiracy" is certain to delight fans of young adult fantasy novels.

[croknot1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I'm going to have o start reading more YA fantasy. I'm sure it wasn't available when I was a YA. To best friends uncover a mystery, complete with monks and monsters! Very exciting, and likeable characters (mostly).Enjoyable read!

[momboyd · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The Wyrm Conspiracy works well as a young adult fantasy novel. The story is fast paced and the characters likable, if not extremely well developed. I found the setting and descriptions quite colorful. Vocabulary in The Wyrm Conspiracy is certainly easy enough for young adult readers. My only complaint would be one of the themes of the book, that of not trusting adults/parents.