“It doesn’t look much from a distance,” say I.
“Oh I don’t know,” says Ned, “but why the Devil’s Drop?”
“Well, it started out as Devil’s Rock because of a perceived likeness, in our minds at least, to Devil’s Tower, Wyoming,” says Wen.
“But of course it’s nowhere near as big as the Devil’s Tower,” say I.
“And the ‘EEEVIL’ bit?”
“Well, we had a bit of a… what shall we say, we had a bit of a strange experience up there when we tried to climb it, didn’t we Wen?”
This is an awful cop-out I know, but if truth be told there are two emotions at play here vying for precedence. The first is a feeling of foolishness because, from this distance at the side of the road, the ‘Drop’ looks like nothing more than a rather impressive and undoubtedly fascinating natural rock formation, whilst the second is the memory of the experience I had when climbing it… which latter has been impinging itself ever since we turned the Silver Bullet in its general direction and it has become abundantly clear that we are indeed seriously considering the utter madness of taking Ned ‘up the Drop’.
“That’s right,” says Wen gamely, “we think there’s a ‘warding’ up there, but we’d like a second opinion.”
“You’ve both been up, right?” says Ned.
“I’ve been up there,” I say quietly. “Wen ran away.”
“I did not run away, Donald Sams… I merely moved away rapidly in the opposite direction… and anyway… you never got to the top.”
“I did so get to the top, I just never stood up on the top that’s all.”
“Never stood up?” says Ned.
“For fear of being blown off.”
“Was it windy?”
“I see,” smiles Ned.
“I’m not sure you do… It’s the Devil’s Drop, it’s EEEVIL!”
Doomsday Book Two
Stuart France & Sue Vincent
The Dark Ages appear in the copybook pages of our historical records like an ink spot. An insidious black mark; a veritable blot on the landscape of time. There are some who claim they never actually existed and that the two hundred-odd years represented by their darkness are a fabrication designed to fit the grandiose plotting of an ego-driven king.
There are probably only two people mad enough to take such a notion seriously
“Is it another Don and Wen book?”
Across the Derbyshire landscape, scattered with sites of ancient sanctity and strange, otherworldly places, our two unlikely companions begin another chapter of their quest to understand the roots of human consciousness and the source of inner light that draws the eyes and heart towards to sun.