Read Online The Time Hunters and the Box of Eternity by Carl Ashmore - Free Book Online

him;
not a conventional ranch, it was located in the Miocene Epoch and boasted a
thousand-strong herd of Hipparions (a twenty million year old horse).
    Becky and Joe spent the rest of the morning cleaning the stables,
the tedium of which only lifted when Will joined them with two jugs of apple
juice. He listened intently to the Pandora ’ s Box theory and seemed as eager as they were
for another adventure, although Becky got the impression it had more to with
meeting Otto Kruger again than anything else. After Will left to tend to the
lawns, Becky and Joe remained to finish their chores.
    ‘ This is awesome… ’ Joe said
enthusiastically, emptying a bucket of fresh water into a trough until it
slopped over the sides. ‘ Another relic quest! ’
    ‘ At the moment, we ’ re only going for a
pub lunch, ’ Becky said. ‘ It ’ s hardly Raiders of the Lost Ark. ’
    ‘ Yeah, but that ’ s how it starts, ’ Joe replied eagerly. ‘ Before we know it … it ’ ll be cutlasses and X
marks the spot and - ’
    ‘ Have you actually
given any thought to the fact that it ’ s dangerous? ’ Becky snapped.
    Joe scowled. ‘ What ’ s up with you? ’
    Becky shot him a prickly look. ‘ This isn ’ t one of your Xbox games. If it wasn ’ t for the Minotaurs, Uncle
Percy and Will would be dead, and we would be used as bait to get dad to talk.
And once dad does that, he ’ s dead for sure. It might sound fun, but people can get hurt or
worse… ’
    Joe didn ’ t reply. For a moment, it looked like he was giving this serious
consideration, until he blew a raspberry. ‘ Nothing ’ s going to happen to anyone. And I can ’ t wait to meet
Blackbeard… maybe I should give myself a cool pirate name. ’
    ‘ What about
Bumfluffbeard? ’ Becky said stiffly.
    ‘ Ha ha, ’ Joe replied
sarcastically. ‘ Come to think of it, Becks, it looks like you ’ re growing a bit of a
beard yourself. ’
    A second later, a lump of Pegasus dung was flying at his head.
    *
    At midday, Becky lined up beside Joe at the front of Bowen Hall. A
chill settled in her bones as she watched Uncle Percy, his overcoat collar
curled high, swing the Rolls Royce Silver Ghost to a halt. Staring at the
roofless car, she pulled her pom pom hat tight around her ears and considered
asking Uncle Percy to ultra-boost them to Addlebury.
    Fortunately, it wasn ’ t really necessary, as within ten minutes they were trundling down
Addlebury High Street, passing Bunkle and Sons, a family-owned butchers and a
large village hall with a rain-damp poster on its door that read ‘ Kendo classes every
Tuesday ’ ; a pair of ancient stone crosses
covered in strange markings stood like ice sculptures beside a freshly mown
green. Looking to the far end of the street, Becky saw a rickety Tudor style
public house with an angular thatched roof, streaked with lichen and moss. Constructed
over three floors and painted black and white, it leaned notably to the left,
giving Becky the impression that a strong gust of wind could blow it over.
    Uncle Percy brought the Silver Ghost to a stop in the pub ’ s car park and leapt
out, trailed by Becky and Joe. ‘ Actually, ’ he said cheerily, ‘ I ’ m delighted we ’ ve come today. You see, The Magpie Inn is actually one of the few
genuine Tudor –’ Before he could finish, however, a snapping sound from the pub ’ s rear stopped him in
his tracks.  
    Becky glanced at Uncle Percy, who appeared somewhat puzzled. ‘ Was that a time
machine? ’
    ‘ It certainly sounded
like one, didn ’ t it? ’ Uncle Percy replied.
    ‘ I thought Reg had
stopped travelling? ’ Joe said.
    ‘ He has, ’ Uncle Percy said. ‘ But I suppose
travellers still visit him, if only to stock up on his home-brewed real-ale ‘ Olde Noggin. ’ He chuckled. ‘ A pint of that and you
don ’ t need
a Memoraser to forget what you ’ ve done. ’ And with three long strides he disappeared into the pub.
    Inside, Becky was surprised to see a huge