The Crown Of Wisdom

By Carole McCulloch

A SINISTER VIRUS HAS REDUCED OUR WORLD POPULATION BY ONE-THIRD. 

This virus has become unstoppable across the global population, despite all desperate attempts to stop it and those in the highest danger of infertility being caused by the pandemic must migrate to the "Cloud".

Hidden in mysterious rooms of a cloud-base

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shawline Publishing Group
• Release date: Sep 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9781922751539

Carole McCulloch

Carro writes for young adult readers from her home in Northeast Victoria. As an avid genealogist and storyteller, she brings tales of fictional history, Tarot and Rune into a fantasy world. She also writes factional family history stories including poetry, and in her blog at coachcarolewriting.wordpress.com.Carro also creates and teaches online courses for beginners in genealogy and loves sharing her knowledge with others.

Book preview

The Crown Of Wisdom © 2022 Carole McCulloch.

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Printed in Australia

First Printing: July 2022

Shawline Publishing Group Pty Ltd

www.shawlinepublishing.com.au

Paperback ISBN- 9781922751485

Ebook ISBN- 9781922751539

Carol McCulloch

To my granddaughters Caryss, Zienna and Billie, may the stories of your special powers, inspire others.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to the team at Shawline Publishing group for leading me into the book publishing arena, one step at a time. Thank you to my family for believing in me and giving me the courage to write. Thank you to my readers for dipping into my world. Thank you to NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), where this book began during the pandemic of 2020.

Contents

PROLOGUE 1

CHAPTER 1 5

CHAPTER 2 11

CHAPTER 3 17

CHAPTER 4 23

CHAPTER 5 25

CHAPTER 6 28

CHAPTER 7 31

CHAPTER 8 37

CHAPTER 9 40

CHAPTER 10 45

CHAPTER 11 48

CHAPTER 12 53

CHAPTER 13 57

CHAPTER 14 64

CHAPTER 15 67

CHAPTER 16 70

CHAPTER 17 75

CHAPTER 18 80

CHAPTER 19 85

CHAPTER 20 91

CHAPTER 21 96

CHAPTER 22 102

CHAPTER 23 104

CHAPTER 24 106

CHAPTER 25 111

CHAPTER 26 116

CHAPTER 27 121

CHAPTER 28 126

CHAPTER 29 129

CHAPTER 30 131

CHAPTER 31 136

CHAPTER 32 142

CHAPTER 33 146

CHAPTER 34 152

CHAPTER 35 156

CHAPTER 36 158

CHAPTER 37 160

CHAPTER 38 162

CHAPTER 39 165

CHAPTER 40 167

CHAPTER 41 169

CHAPTER 42 175

CHAPTER 43 177

CHAPTER 44 182

CHAPTER 45 186

CHAPTER 46 189

CHAPTER 47 192

CHAPTER 48 196

CHAPTER 49 198

CHAPTER 50 200

COMPANION GUIDE

PROLOGUE

30 December 2020

At her desk Granna May’s vision blurred as she peered at the words bouncing on her screen, behind the blinking cursor. Her decision to send now was dancing agonizingly in her mind. The incessant rain slashed at the window, and she felt another migraine looming. Reluctant words and phrases kept repeating themselves over and over in her brain.

‘Right time, wrong place, right place, wrong time!’

Clicking keys echoed softly in the room as she completed her task and printed the document. Pain throbbed in her temples as she turned away from the glow of the screen. Grabbing the printed pages, and turning her chair from the desk, she unlocked the brakes and wheeled herself to the spiral staircase at the foot of her bed. Taking only her walking stick, she stood and climbed the steel stairs. A cedar wood chest stood on a small, raised dais in this dusty circular room. She made her way towards it.

The outside of the chest appeared as an ordinary box for her treasures. Her grandchildren always mesmerised whenever she opened it for them, would listen intently as she told her stories. That was then, before the third wave of the Pandemic in the world. They never suspected that this plain cedar chest held a dark secret. All her siblings had long since passed and none of them ever knew of the chest, the codes, or the secret compartment and its contents.

She unclasped the lock, now rusted and worn, to open the lid. The metallic jingle of the plates and gears inside the lid reminded her to be cautious. Peering into the wooden chest, she slid back the metal tab on the upper left side to reveal the Cryptex cylinder. The automatic code reset on this ancient chest was the reason she had purchased it years ago. Each time she opened it and closed it, the reset code would prevent the secret contents from falling into the wrong hands.

Her diaries, notes, stories, and maps were all carefully collated into boxes within the chest. She had spent years tracking her ancestors and uncovering their connection to Welsh Wiccans and royal blood; these boxes contained all the family history, warts and all. She had placed a collection of her handmade quilts in the chest to cover the boxes. Carefully, she removed the quilts and each memory box and set them aside on the floor.

Peering over her shoulder, she entered the code into the Cryptex cylinders. As she entered each number, the sliders moved to their designated positions on the lid. Each slider unlocked a segment of a central disc and, when fully opened, a secret panel at the base of the chest opened. She slid the metal panel back along its tracks – and felt a frisson of excitement, as sparks sizzled briefly in the dark interior. Here lay the Book of Shadows, the blackened Grimoire she had found after years of searching for the answers to why her family possesses their special powers.

Removing the Grimoire, she placed the packet of printed instructions inside the front cover and then locked the book back in its hiding place. After replacing each of the memory boxes and covering them once more with the quilts, Granna May flipped the Cryptex cylinder back to its original position and then closed the lid and locked it again. She returned to her room via the spiral staircase, taking extra precautions with her dodgy knees on her descent. Positioning herself in her wheelchair, May wheeled her way back to the desk.

Now it was time to reveal the Wiccan legacy to her granddaughters. The Arry girls were already aware of their exceptional skills and were already in possession of the ‘key to cooperation’ and the ‘ring of destiny’—legacies from previous adventures. Granna May knew that together, the girls could now find the ‘Crown of Wisdom’, unlock the secrets of the future, and right the wrongs of the past. An opportunity to save the Earth from the devastation caused by an out-of-control pandemic.

Time was running out, and she wanted to ensure that they had the information required for their next adventures. She opened her email and created a new message, typing this cryptic message below her new address.

One Down Maison, 1 Down Drive, The Cloud

My darlings, please follow these instructions. It is the only way.

Join the Academy and reach the Cloud.

Read the blog posts and find the Tarot.

Enter the Tower Room and open the chest.

Use the code and remove the memories.

Solve the mystery and save the Earth!

Instructions are in the Chest. HANDLE WITH CARE!

— All my love, Granna May.

CHAPTER 1

Protests at Rowville Town Hall: 1 December 2021

Victor Eos, Mayor of Rowville, was pacing up and down in his office. The worn rug in front of his desk was moving with his pacing and ravelling up at both ends. The ash from his cigarette flicked anywhere and everywhere as he paced. There was a pall of smoke hanging in the air and the entire room smelled.

He walked over to his filing cabinet, a grey and rusty set of three drawers, and drew out the file on the Arry girls. He flipped through the folder and peered at their photos clipped to their information sheets. Scowling, he pulled the photos off the folders and walked to the pinboard opposite his desk. Pinning the photos high on the board, he shuffled the post-it notes around them to group his mind map.

The post-it note collection had begun when he heard about the plan for a demonstration at the Town Hall. He googled the Arry girls to find out more about each of them. He easily got their high school photos from the online yearbooks for Rowville Secondary. They hid nothing these days. You could find out anything about anyone as soon as they had a digital identity. His daughter Vanity attended the same school as the Arry girls, but only during 2020; so, she did not know about their exploits from their sophomore years except for what she had heard.

Vanity provided the snippets of information to Victor when prompted, and he had written them on his favourite yellow post-it notes in his clipped and precise style. He scanned these now.

Cay Arry: Leader of the rat pack. Fiery. Strong character. Known for inciting walkouts. Feared by the teachers. She was a great actor and excelled at character roles that called for insight into their flaws and a style of portraying them as leaders or anti-heroes. She was employed as a part-time receptionist at a local beauty salon, during her final year at Rowville Secondary.

Zienna Arry: Literal and lavish with language. Editor for the Rowville Bulletin Board Blog. Always seen with her close-knit group of friends. She was a keen Fortnite player and had won 90 percent of the tournaments by the time she was fourteen years old. Her prowess on the sports field was also well known—an excellent and revered member of the Rowville baseball team.

Billie Arry: Small and nimble. Surprises everyone with her agility and her intelligence. Writer for the Rowville Blog. Staunch ally for her sisters. Everyone knows of Billie’s sporting skills in the school, after being selected to play for her state in the interstate baseball tournaments three years in a row. Her attention had swung over to baseball in 2020 and by the time she had entered Rowville Secondary, she was a much sought-after team member.

Victor resumed his pacing and looked at his Cartier watch. He slipped on his mayoral chain of office over his black robes and strutted to the door of the office.

‘It is time we pull these protesters into line!’ he said, as he checked his tie, his chain, and his moustache in the mirror beside the door. He glanced up and noted the time once more. It was just five minutes to four pm.

He walked through the door, turned to lock it behind him, and with a flurry of robes, and a clink of his chain, he strode to the lift. Punching the button for the fifth floor he smiled as he read the sign: ‘Lift Restricted to Three Persons: all who enter must wear a mask.’

‘Rowville will soon learn just how I will keep the lockdown in place. They do not realise how tough I can be. I will show how I deal with troublemakers in my town.’

He reached the fifth floor and flounced from the lift amid flashes of light from the array of reporters awaiting him. Victor Eos waved the photographers out of his way pompously and strode across the parquet floor to the entrance to the balcony.

He adjusted his mayoral robes, plastered a huge toothy grin on his face, and with both hands opened the doors to the balcony just as the last beats of the drums from the courtyard below reached a crescendo.

Victor Eos stepped out onto the balcony of the Town Hall and looked down on the people gathered below. He removed his black face mask with a flourish. He made sweeping gestures to the left and right, and then raised his arms high with palms faced outward, to silence the applause. His mayoral robes made him look much larger up there on the balcony. They could not see the small steps placed beside the parapet for him to stand on; it was all about his ego.

All the protesters gathered below silently raised their left hands high in defiance with the three-finger salute.

‘As Mayor of the City, I command you to obey the laws and protocols as set down by the Council of Elders. It is unlawful for you to gather publicly to dispute the running of the town. I have teams of police and the military standing by to disperse this crowd at the first sign of unlawful demonstration.’

Victor Eos spoke vehemently to the crowds below and held up his hands for silence. ‘This is an unlawful and disruptive demonstration! I order you to disperse?’

^

Demonstrations had become the new normal even after almost two years of pandemic waves and lockdowns; people were weary and agitated. The latest edicts in Rowville were like many other border towns in their world; permits required for crossing over; no unnecessary travel further than 5 kilometres from home; and curfews for staying indoors after 8 pm each night. Masks were mandatory, and they required people to show their vaccination papers when entering public spaces.

The Arry girls, enroute to the demonstration, had passed by the large signs, placed one kilometre apart, that sported the latest edicts. Clinically tested Vaccines are freely available. All citizens must vaccinate each year and keep their vaccination papers on them in public places.

On the other side of the city square, mayoral supporters grouped and formed lines of anti-protester barriers; each of them sporting their ‘Long Live the Mayor’ masks. The constant sound of drums was getting louder as the two groups moved forward to the steps of the town hall.

Both converging groups could see how they had divided the forecourt into two distinct areas with rows of pillions joined with looped, heavy-duty ropes. A ten-metre gap between the areas formed a pathway, and the Mayoral bodyguard teams were marching down the path toward the steps of the town hall. Each one of them held their rifles to their shoulders. On their belts, they wore their crowd enforcer tools of the trade—truncheons and capsicum spray dispensers.

Cay, Zienna, and Billie Arry vowed the town, and the mayor, would hear their voices today! They were aware of the punishment for speaking out against Mayor Eos, however, they were not afraid. They had checked with each other on what they wanted to say, and in what order they were to speak.

All three girls linked arms in defiance of the social distancing rules; and then looked towards the Town Hall.

^

There was a hush across the forecourt as the drumming reached a crescendo, then dimmed to a low beat and finally stopped!

‘Rowville deserves a better democracy! We the students are tired of being prevented from going to the Cloud Academy. The handling of the current full lockdown has been abysmal. We are protesting here today on behalf of all who cannot vote at City Council elections,’ shouted Cay.

‘We demand entry to the Cloud Academy and our right to gain our passport to the Cloud!’ shouted Zienna.

‘We represent the youth of this region! We are the future! You must allow us to escape to the Cloud!’ shouted Billie.

This outburst steamed the mayor and caused a stir among his bodyguards. ‘Silence! Any further outbursts like those will land you in the city jail.’ Victor Eos announced.

The crowds began jeering and booing, holding their three-finger salute even higher. The team of armoured bodyguards turned menacingly toward the young speakers, while a shadowy figure stepped up to whisper to the mayor on the balcony above!

‘We can attract more flies with honey rather than vinegar! Let them have their say. It will be in your best interests. The crowd will become angry and uncontrollable. Use a different ploy!’

The mayor pushed the intruder away and motioned for his guards to apprehend the shadowy figure. ‘How did you get onto the balcony? And who are you?’

Shadow Shyft removed his mask and whispered. ‘I am a friend, and I am on your side.’

The guards still held him firmly to prevent him from getting any closer to the mayor.

‘There are forces at work beyond your knowledge,’ whispered Shadow. ‘Let these young people have their say. It will not amount to anything. They are powerless. The situation is out of their hands. Make your attempt at reconciliation today and wait for the revelations of tomorrow.’

‘What revelations?’ said the mayor, getting increasingly agitated at this upstart ruining his day.