Polly and the Tome of Herne

By Peppa Aubyn

Meet Polly. Kind. Brave. Gifted. Caring. More than what she seems, and Destiny awaits her.

 

A young woman's journey to becoming the greatest warrior of legend. It's a thrilling action-packed hero journey, where you are drawn into the adventure while the characters develop.

 

In a leafy, quiet part of the suburbs of north London, it is a girl called Polly's sixteenth birthday.  Her special day is not celebrated and is mostly forgotten. Leaving her feeling unloved by her family. Being used to this type of treatment in truth, but today, she thought would be different. They also let slip that Polly is adopted too. . 

 

A series of strange happenings take place that Polly is unable to explain. An encounter with a mysterious woman on her birthday, starts off a chain of events that unleashes within her special powers. Realising, that these powers have been gifted to save the planet from Armageddon. Polly must find out how to use her powers, once she has accepted that she has special powers that is.

 

A secret organisation known as the Inner Circle are looking for a book of powerful magic called the Tome of Herne. Within its ancient texts is a prophecy foretelling the destruction of the surface of the planet. The book also contains long forgotten pagan secrets of how to invoke unnatural long life. The Inner Circle are seeking this knowledge to be the chosen few that survive and shape the new world post-apocalypse. Polly and her friends, Chris, and Toni must protect the Tome of Herne from falling into the wrong hands, at all costs.

 

Unbeknown to Polly, her true destiny is part of the prophecy and is waiting to be discovered in the crumbling pages of the Tome of Herne.   

Meet Polly. Kind. Caring. More than what she seems, and Destiny awaits her.

 

A young woman's journey to becoming the greatest warrior of legend. It's a thrilling action-packed hero journey, where you are drawn into the adventure while the characters develop.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peppa Aubyn
• Release date: Jan 20, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224099665

Book preview

Meet Pollux. Kind. Brave. More than what she seems, and Destiny awaits her.

Ayoung woman’s journey to becoming the greatest warrior of legend. It’s a thrilling action-packed hero journey, where you are drawn into the adventure, while engaging with the characters, as they develop along their way.

In a leafy, quiet part of the suburbs of north London, it is Polly’s sixteenth birthday.  Her special day is not celebrated and is mostly forgotten about. Leaving her feeling unloved by her family. Being used to this type of treatment in truth, but today, she thought things would be different. Her family also let slip Polly is adopted.

A series of strange occurrences take place that Polly is unable to explain. An encounter with a mysterious woman on her birthday, starts off a chain of events that unleashes within her special powers. Realising, that these powers have been gifted to save the planet from Armageddon. Polly must find out how to use her powers, once she has accepted that she has special powers that is, or otherwise the universe will be covered in darkness – never to return to the light.

A secret organisation known as the Inner Circle are looking for a book of powerful magic called the Tome of Herne. Within its ancient texts is a prophecy foretelling the destruction of the surface of the planet. The book also contains long forgotten pagan secrets of how to invoke unnatural long life. The Inner Circle are seeking this knowledge to be the chosen few that survive and shape the new world post-apocalypse. Polly and her friends, must protect the Tome of Herne from falling into the wrong hands, at all costs.

Unbeknown to Polly, her true destiny is part of the prophecy and is waiting to be discovered in the crumbling pages of the Tome of Herne.  

BOOK ONE

Polly and the

Tome of Herne

by Peppa Aubyn

Polly and The Tome of Herne:

A fantasy story about a girl gifted magical powers, who uses them to save the planet, and humanity, and all living beings in the universe, from total annihilation.

Copyright © 2023 Peppa Aubyn

Book Cover Design by 100 Covers

All rights reserved. This includes the right to reproduce any portion of this book in any form. The author is the sole contributor to this novel reserves all rights to it.

All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

ISBN:  9798393833473

EAN

Fiction > reference > Independently published / self-publishing.

Other books in this series

The Heart of the Dragon - Book two

Books by this author soon to be released:

The Elder – Light of the Seven Kingdoms – to be released in May 2024 a new series with vampires and immortals at the centre of the story.

I dedicate this book to my big sister, Debsy,

who learnt to find love in all the light places from a very early age.

I miss you.

Contents

Chapter One  what the summer brings

Chapter Two The Beginning

Chapter Three  The Company you keep

Chapter Four  A Power emerging

Chapter Five Eggs will make up for everything

Chapter Six  A glimpse of a Goddess

Chapter Seven  Truths are revealed in anger

Chapter Eight  The Blackness in us all

Chapter Nine Motives

Chapter Ten  The lies we are told

Chapter Eleven  A warrior’s power

Chapter Twelve  Saving Gracie

Chapter Thirteen  The Need to believe

Chapter Fourteen  Protection from what we know

Chapter Fifteen  Things ain’t always what they seem

Chapter Sixteen  Becoming

Chapter Seventeen  Reckless ambitions

Chapter Eighteen  The master and the apprentice no more

Chapter Nineteen  The Stand

Chapter Twenty  Homecoming

Chapter One  what the summer brings

Thursday

Polly is scuttling along the baking hot streets of North London, at a seriously fast pace - not paying attention. Overwhelmed, by the prospect of her childhood coming to an end. Usually, she is mindful and present, taking her time to stroll through these streets, admiring the environment in all of its splendour. Her love of nature is so compelling, she is easily distracted by the flowers and creatures, and trees that she encounters on her way home.

Polly briskly walks past her neighbours, slowing down a little to wave at friendly faces.  The local inhabitants are most definitely not expecting an apocalypse to begin, any time soon. They are all very much in the throes of preparing for their summer activities.  Holidays in the Mediterranean, garden parties and plans to keep the children entertained, in the long summer months, which stretch into September. The residents come out of their houses and sigh in the bliss of the faint breeze - warm, with a slight hint of sweet honey suckle. This is a part of London, where pale grey pavements are quaintly uneven. Where little tufts of grass and dandelions sprout through cracks in the concrete slabs, and in places, where the neighbourhood residents expect perfection - this is the suburbs. The tree-lined streets look picturesque, with branches overhanging the pavements. The leaves are lush and green. Everything is in bloom and peaceful. The faint hum of insects can be heard, as well as birds chirping in the trees. Everything is calm and still. Everything is ordinary. Nothing unexpected ever happens in places like this. Except, sometimes, and this is one of those times, this is where a sequence of truly extraordinary events begins. They happen to seemingly ordinary people. Looking back, it is a good thing too, as these events just might save the world from total annihilation.

It is the end of the school day and the best of weekdays, which everyone knows is Thursday – in anticipation of the weekend.  Polly has an inset day at school tomorrow, so it is a day off for her. This is fortunate, it’s also Polly’s birthday tomorrow. Sixteen years old and leaving school for good next week. She is finding the finality of this a little daunting, but prefers not to discuss it and hides it well.

Now, it must be noted that it would take the average person ten minutes to walk the distance from Polly’s school to her house. The journey takes her a lot longer. This is much to her mother’s and father’s annoyance. In all fairness, it does not take much to offend her parents - always actively seeking ways to be annoyed and criticise Polly. It’s because this, she has taken to spending a lot of her free time outside in nature. Finding a refuge in the green spaces of the world - away from the place she is forced to call home. Her disposition is naturally kind-hearted, so she does not notice all the slights from her parents, and has grown accustomed to the harsh words.

Polly is unlike her family in practically every way possible. Being thoughtful, kind and caring are all important qualities to her. She always has her nose in some book or other - escaping into a fantasy world. Her physical appearance significantly differs from that of her parents too. She is tall, with a lean elven look to her, without the pointy ears – of course. She has hazel-coloured almond shaped eyes and wears her thick chestnut brown hair, long. While her parents are both, well, let’s just say very different, in every way possible.  

Running along now, but abruptly, Polly skids to a full stop. Looking round she hears her name being called. Looking this way and that, before shrugging and carrying on her journey. Petals blow across the road towards here. Bending down to pick them, she begins to admire the pink dogwood tree at the corner of her street. Some might say that she has a strange connection to nature and more specifically, is drawn to trees of all shapes and sizes, engaging with them, as equals.

The dogwood tree Polly is admiring is stunning, beautiful white flowers with pink tips and veins – the tree appears alive to her. Polly looks up and down the street, leans forward and whispers Hello there tree, may a star shine on the hour of our meeting, She leans forward further still, nose brushing the trunk of the tree, to inhale the scent of the petals. Blowing out the perfume of it into the hazy summer air. This makes her gloriously happy, to such an extent, that a faint glow can be seen around her. 

Most people do not understand the joy of connection that Polly has with nature. Preferring to hide this part of herself, fearing people might find her a bit odd. In fact, some might say it is a bit odd that humans today do not see the miracle of nature, all around them and it is not Polly that is strange at all. Seeing the beauty of life in simple, everyday encounters with nature - like she does.

Polly begins twirling, her long hair swings behind her. Hazel eyes crinkled in the bliss of this free-spirited, abandonment. Her Breton t-shirt is scrunched into the front of her light chinos. Looking rather unkempt apart from her gold chain, swinging round her neck. The necklace is unusual, quite elaborate in design, an antique and is formed of a circle within a circle, with a compressed letter "G", inside. Polly doesn’t recall when she received the necklace. It has been with her since she was a very small child.

Regrettably, and mostly due to her nervous clumsiness, Polly starts stumbling and tripping over her feet. This is when she realises her spinning around is drawing attention from onlookers. Polly sighs, tired of being scared, of having to always guard herself from the judgements of others. Looking down at her feet – reflecting on how lonely she feels most of the time. Peering back up at the tree once more, she reaches out to hold her hand to the trunk – a warm energy shifts down her arm, a pulse of sorts. Polly believes this ability is perfectly normal and how everyone experiences the trees, the woods - nature.  To her, it is an exchange of energy; the essence of life itself - it’s simple joy.

Polly moves on, happily smiling to herself as she starts to walk again.

When, all of a sudden, her instincts are roused. Hearing the faint rustle of a hedgerow nearby. A strange breeze picks up out of nowhere. A whispering, echoey voice is being carried on the wind towards her, "The gifts given to the chosen one. The gifts given to the chosen one. The gifts given to the chosen one. The gifts given to the chosen one."

Polly stops, heart racing in her ears, immediately crouching down low to get a better look over the street to see where the voice is coming from. She spots something a bit strange. Peeping out of the bush nearby, is a beautiful pure white dove. It looks at her for an extraordinarily long time, before majestically taking flight, into the air.  Gently turning, the dove glides in circles around her head, before dropping two large feathers above her. It flourishes its wings and flies away. Polly watches, as the breeze catches the brilliant white feathers. They have a few fair golden strands in them – glittering, catching the light of the late afternoon sun. The feathers twirl downwards, landing in her outstretched hand. Polly shakes her head as if waking from a dream. Still in the crouched position; looking up at the last traces of the bird, when she catches a glimpse of Mrs Arthur. Her neighbour. The arm of Mrs Arthur’s scratchy woollen, green cardigan appears. And then, the mean-spirited and piercing face pops up over the hedge. Her neighbour’s narrowed eyes and one arched eyebrow bear down on Polly and she looks at the girl with suspicion. Suspecting her of doing something distasteful. Polly grimaces, to Mrs Arthur having fun is most definitely distasteful and not part of Mrs Arthur’s repertoire or indeed her life.

Polly picks up the two feathers hastily and stands up, straight backed and alert. She quickly realises that her crouching is being observed with disdain.

Polly clears her throat, assumes a smile, while bouncing on the balls of her feet Good afternoon to you Mrs Arthur. Why, I was busy admiring your marvellous pink dogwood tree and didn't notice you standing there in your big green cardigan. By the way, the wool is beautiful just like the colour of moss. Polly says with a hopeful smile on her delicate face. Mrs Arthur squints at Polly, she is busily checking if the exchange is an insult before she responds Well, Polly dear, of course you didn't. Head in the clouds as usual. Mrs Arthur sighs and tuts, pursing her narrow lips Your Mother has just driven past in that big blacked out SUV of hers and you better get home. You know she likes you being there before she gets in. To the average passer-by, this comment sounds like a friendly neighbour reminding a fifteen-nearly-sixteen-year-old girl of her mother’s care, but to those that are initiated in the ways of this neighbourhood they would know, the comment was made to scare Polly. Mrs Arthur thoroughly enjoyed the power she exerted by these few words.

Polly gulps, peers down the street. Immediately she picks up her school backpack, laden with library books that she loves to read. She pushes the feathers into a gap in the zip and she bolts down the street. Not now noticing a single leaf on a tree or a butterfly flapping its delicate wings or a luminous blade of grass in her haste to get home. One thing is for certain, Polly will be in trouble. Her mother has arrived home before her. Mother wants Polly's help with the dinner party preparations for tonight's celebrations - for want of a better word.

Polly is running at full speed now beads of sweat are dripping from her forehead. She manages to keep this out of her eyes by running the back of her hand over her face, pushing the dampness into her fringe. Wheezing and panting, she skids to a halt at the new garden gate - made from solid limed oak. Jumps over gate, not wasting anytime on the finicky latch mechanism. A huge splodge of dirt catches on the material of her trousers. Polly has not noticed in her haste to get to the front porch. Trembling, she lifts her arm ready with the front door key. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep steadying breath before she enters – imagining the very worst of her Mother’s anger is waiting for inside.

Stepping into the chicly painted hallway, where the walls are covered in a fashionable sage green, to complement the black and white mosaic tiled floor. The air is cool from a small window being left open. The front of the house is currently in the afternoon shade, creating the perfect ambience on this hot day; the temperature is pleasant in here. The general aesthetic of the reception area is precisely the same as in the decorating magazine that Mother reads. It is expensive, therefore, the best and most admired. Well, in mother’s view, anyway.

Polly pulls at her laces, to undo the top of her scruffy boots - cursing under her breath, she had not taken them off in the porch; before entering. At the same time, she is using her other hand to hastily grab at her satchel, trying to loop it over one of the hooks on the coat stand. Inevitably, doing these two things at once, causes her to lose her balance. She tries to steady herself, but loses, tumbling on her back to the floor. She tuts at herself and sighs out her anxiety – her desire to make everything perfect for her parents, so they don't have an opportunity to criticise her is on her mind, at all times, in this house.

Polly is in a heap on the floor when mother enters the hallway. Oh, I'm so glad that you've decided to join us, Polly. How kind of you to arrive on time to help your poor mother with the shopping for YOUR birthday dinner party. Mother says this in her pitchy, nasally voice, using the most sarcastic tone she can muster, she continues My back is aching now so I'm not sure I’m going to be able to make Uncle Jack's favourite summer fruit pudding but what do you care, hey? It's not YOUR favourite pudding, is it?

As Polly laid there with tears of frustration in her eyes, she reflects that she finds her parents’ logic a bit baffling. But she is really struggling on this occasion to figure out why she is at fault, this time. Why would Uncle Jack not receive his favourite summer pudding due to Polly being late for her curfew? The other part of the mystery is that mother is not actually making or cooking anything. The party is being catered for by a prominent London chef and an army of cooks. Polly also scrunches up her face to give thought to exactly what shopping Mother had carried into the house and settled on a guess, that it was most likely from Chanel and not necessarily for anyone but herself.

Her Mother continues her lecture and grows more passionately venomous as she goes on. Mother stops dead in front of Polly and looks down at her, suddenly realising that Polly is on her back staring up at her, in a dishevelled state, from the floor. Good grief girl, get up off the floor and clean yourself up. You have got mud on your new trousers, and you are sweating like a pig. If the neighbours look in, they’ll be concerned. Mother looked through the hallway window to make sure no one was looking inside.

Mother snaps her head back down to glare at Polly and switches from anger to acting more like a purring cat that has noticed a lame bird under a thicket of thorns. Cats are superior in every way in terms of their hunting instincts, yet are adorable and loving creatures, at the same time. Polly loves cats for these unusual polar-opposite character traits, but her parents’ unusual behaviours are not as adorable. Polly often found herself drawn to the forensic and evil criminal material at the local library, trying to understand them better. Polly darling, please do fetch mummy her special drink. she batted her eyelashes furiously, which made her look a little deranged. Adding in a harsher tone with a queen olive on a cocktail stick this time. Please do remember clumsy clod as you forgot it last time and it really does ruin mummy’s day. You don't want to ruin mummy’s day, do you?

Polly hesitates, still laying on the floor. Musing to herself that Mother becomes quite over-excited when imbibing too early and the dinner party still needs preparing.

Father walks in at that precise moment; he is home incredibly early for the dinner party. Mother had called his executive assistant to arrange it all months ago to fit round his schedule. Father steps over Polly on the floor, places his luxurious leather briefcase on the polished side cabinet, while loosening his silk tie and unclipping his gold cufflinks from his shirt. All the while, staring at his own reflection in the gilded hallway mirror. Mother squeals and launches herself at him, they both kiss each other, arms and legs intertwined. Polly starts to feel queasy observing the scene, the discomfort scratching at her throat. Mother comes up for air and announces Chop, Chop butterball, off the floor to make my drink and you'll need to help out to set up the party too. Polly sighs and rolls her eyes. She automatically knows that this statement is Mother-code for ‘helping-means-doing-all-of-it yourself’.  Polly heaves herself up off the floor and makes her way into the other room that hosts the cocktail bar. Deciding to make the cocktail and then get on with setting up the party – fully aware that no one else was going to do it.

The afternoon wanes into evening, with Polly doing lots of chores to get everything ready. She started with putting up the fairy lights over the trees in the garden, and stringing glowing lanterns throughout the house, and then getting champagne buckets ready with ice from the walk-in freezer, and then arranging flower displays for the dining hall, and lastly, readying the guest suites. Polly does all these things because more than anything else, she wants her parents to love her. To provide a sense of belonging, something they seem unable to do. This time will be different. This time they will notice and show me they care. . . even, love me Polly says to herself. Biting at her lip.

The dinner party is being catered for and Polly is working through the menu with the Chef. When the party organiser, Bunny, walks in. Bunny is an old school friend of Mother’s and the daughter of an oil tycoon. She is a trust fund holder and owns the catering company, but she tends to stay out of the general running of the business.  Preferring to host charity events and go on holiday, which she refers to as business trips for tax reasons. Bunny arrives after her team had completed most of the preparations and cooking. Grabbing a glass from one of the trays placed by the entrance. Coiffed hair and boucle coat. Bunny pours herself champagne, whilst barely acknowledging her team, before sitting down on a barstool in the cavernous kitchen. The household kitchen doesn't get much use apart from when Polly cooks for herself and these types of dinner parties.

Hearing Bunny is in the house, Mother makes a grand entrance and glides down the stairs in her midnight blue organza cocktail dress. Mother had taken ages to find the perfect dress and it was worth every second – Polly loves the material. It has a breakfast at Tiffany’s vibe.  Around Mother’s neck is a new diamond necklace. Bunny bounds over instantly when she notices the piece of jewellery,  giving out a loud gasp. Mother takes hold of the diamonds and with a throaty laugh, declares them to be from Father to match the recent bracelet, earrings and smaller necklace gifted this year. These were all separate presents and each one given, as a gift, when Father had been caught out in some indiscretion or another. Bunny, knowing the gift of the jewellery, is code for he’s been at it again, grabs a bottle of tequila from the side and proclaims next time get a bloody yacht sweetie.  I've been telling you darling, cruising around Croatia would be much better and you've got tons of jewellery out of him now.

Mother looks up at Bunny and tartly replies We are not alone here moving her eyes sideways, indicating the chef and the rest of the team, who pretend to be busy. Polly is not mentioned, she goes unseen as usual. Polly often wondered if her parents know their relationship was unhealthy because Mother sometimes did show a glimmer of sadness while looking at her diamonds, but it happened so rarely Polly feels like she may have been mistaken and is projecting her own sadness onto her mother. The sadness of not being connected to her parents and feeling constantly in the way and misunderstood. Polly lets out a sigh while watching the exchange between Bunny and Mother. She could not quite comprehend why the two women are friends, but never voiced her view. The thing is, children who grow up in a home where they are unloved will learn they are on their own, their very survival is based upon reading a situation, looking for risks and learning to hide their feelings. They will learn to wear a mask and fit in, becoming hyper-resilient. Polly had learnt to do all these things from a noticeably early age, but she had been lucky enough to find two exceptionally good friends. This stopped her from becoming too self-sufficient and a loner, these friends were Toni and Chris.  Now, for a dinner party allegedly being arranged to celebrate Polly's sixteenth birthday, it was remarkably light on invites being sent to Polly's actual friends. To such an extent, in fact the dinner guests were close family and associates of Mother and Father. Yes, Toni and Chris were not invited.

Uncle Jack and Aunty Gladys arrive, with the usual fanfare and bellowing greetings. Polly runs to welcome them in the hallway. Uncle Jack and Aunty Gladys see her enter the space and throw their coats into her arms and stride by without a second glance – they almost look embarrassed she wanted some type of recognition from them. Polly lowers her eyes, her face stings red with the indignity of being ignored and no birthday greeting has passed their fleshy lips. Mother and Father fuss over Uncle Jack and Aunty Glady’s, remarking at how well they both look, and Uncle Jack jiggles with delight. Aunty Gladys’ grabs a menu and enquires after the food and wants to discuss every possible detail, which is as usual, a sumptuous and rich feast of buttered, caramelised, and generally overstuffed and unnecessarily trimmed food. There are seven courses tonight – these are not tasting portions either. Mother and Father never partake in any of the meals but do ensure all the guests’ individual tastes are catered for.  This being in consideration both parents profiteer from each guest in some way.

Several more guests arrive; air kisses abound, and Polly does not bother traipsing to the hallway after the embarrassment of the first greeting. She doubts very much that anyone had been told that it is her birthday tomorrow.

The evening wears on with many compliments to the hosts and chef for the excellent food, as course after course arrived. The champagne and Chateau Neuf Du Pape, along with vintage wines and special reserve brandy, continue to flow all night. Overindulgence continues with illegal cigars for the men and pretty gift boxes of illegal slimming pills for the ladies and gents tomorrow.

Polly has dressed herself in a simple white tunic dress with her hair pulled back in a gold hairband. She looks effortlessly chic and doesn’t realise how stunning she looks. After the food has been served, she starts to feel sleepy, yet uneasy surrounded by the bullish and drunken crowd. There are the usual discussions about who has bought the best cars, holidays, houses, kitchens, designer clothes, and who has access to influence, and parliamentary power and so on - one upmanship always being the key theme of this group, and this is rather dull to listen to.

The politics of the day are discussed and each guest giving insider views on the functioning of society and its apparent decline. The boorish group go on to exclaim how climate change is preposterous and environmental issues fabricated and there was indignance expressed at industrialisation being at fault in any way.

After listening to the conversation for hours, Polly starts to feel weary of the disdain being projected - especially towards nature. Polly’s sadness turns to tiredness, and she begins to rub at her itchy eyes. She feels a heat prickling her skin on the back of her neck. Ouch! she yells, noticing her necklace is very hot to touch. It is eleven PM.  One hour to go before her birthday and the guests start to periodically depart.

At eleven forty-five PM precisely, Mother, Father, Uncle Jack, Aunty Gladys, and Polly are the only people left, and had taken themselves to sit in the vast conservatory. This is Polly's favourite room in the sprawling house. It has a huge skylight, which  opens out onto the changeable sky above. Polly loves to read in this space, to lose herself in the adventures of heroes of legend and look up at the sky and wish she was on some type of adventure, saving people and discovering new places – anywhere, but with her parents.

Polly is now sitting in her favourite chair, where she usually reads her books. Which is set a bit further back and away from the other members of the group. Looking up at the night sky, she is taken aback and mesmerised by the strangeness of this night. Large stars are twinkling at her.

The stars and the moon are all much lower, closer to the earth than she had ever seen them before. Polly is staring in wonder at the breathtaking scene, which is making her feel ridiculously small and insignificant. Mars is shining brightest, illuminous red and is descending – bowing and lowering its underside directly over the skyline above her. The planet is so very close, Polly feels a frisson of fear because it looks like it might be in the process of falling out of orbit and into the Earth. Polly reaches out her hand towards the sky. Realising it’s not just Mars behaving oddly this night - the other planets, and moon, and stars, are all very close to one another - in alignment. The lights of the universe are streaming in, illuminating her upturned face. Flashing across the room in a dazzling display. Eventually, Polly tears her eyes away and looks around at her family. None of the others have noticed anything odd - being rather drunk like they are.

Polly hears the word birthday mentioned by her father. Uncle Jack's response stuns Polly into paying closer attention, to the conversation in the room. Not being funny old chap but how do you know it's her birthday tomorrow. Oh heck, look at the time, I mean today. Oh no tomorrow. Still got five minutes to go, Uncle Jack says looking at his watch in a befuddled manner ".... you don't really. She's rather scrawny and measly so you don't know