The Gimlet Eye qotlc-3

by James Roy

  Tab felt a tiny smile growing, deep in her chest. She hadn’t realised just how much she’d missed Verris and his forthright, passionate manner.

  They were approaching the depression in the ocean’s surface rather more quickly now, almost as if some invisible force was drawing them in, faster and faster. And it was only then that Tab thought to feel afraid. Up until that moment she’d been busy, making sure that her spell was uttered correctly, worrying about whether or not she’d get it done before they landed, trying not to let Danda annoy her, and being concerned about Torby. But now, with the distance between them and the silent, slow-moving waves closing, she finally allowed herself to think about what they might find. Or if in fact they might find nothing, because there was absolutely no sign of life to be seen at all. Except for the depressions pocking the ocean, it was as desolate and endless as anything she could ever imagine.

  ‘Ten feet,’ Verris said. ‘I think we should probably find something to hang onto.’

  While Verris and Danda dropped to the deck and clung to the railing supports, Tab slid across the boards to Torby and threw herself over him. ‘It’ll be all right,’ she whispered. ‘I promise.’

  But even as she said it, she knew that she was making a promise that she might never be able to keep.

  ***

  It was over so quickly. One minute Tab was holding Torby tightly, her eyes squeezed shut, and the next… silence. Complete silence.

  She opened her eyes and looked around. The light had changed. Above the surface of the ocean it had been morning, just on dawn, but down here the pearly light was somehow brighter. Its luminescent blueness reminded her of opening her eyes underwater on a bright summer day, back when there was time for swimming. Back when there was summer and fun, rather than the constant vortexes in the sky and strange lands below.

  Overhead, the sky was low and glassy, and moved slowly in waves.

  On the other side of the pod, Verris and Danda had sat up and were looking around as well.

  Verris spoke first. His voice sounded muffled and distant. ‘Everyone all right?’ he asked.

  ‘Fine,’ Danda replied, her voice also dull and muted.

  ‘Tab?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Tab answered. Her own voice filled her head, as if she had her fingers pressed into her ears. She checked on Torby. There had been no change. His eyes were open, he was breathing, but other than that, he was like the shell of a person.

  She stood up, and felt herself being held back by a surrounding pressure. Then, as she turned, she found her feet coming off the deck slighty. Instinctively, she waved her arms up and down, and her feet lifted even higher. It was like she was flying. Flying slowly through thick, heavy air. But then she sank back down onto the deck.

  ‘Um… this is just a thought,’ she said, ‘but are we… underwater?’

  Verris looked up at the low, silver-blue sky, rippling above. Then he too began to flap his arms, and was soon drifting around above the deck. ‘You know, I believe we are,’ he said at last, a half-smile on his face. ‘This is indeed strange magic. Underwater, but talking and breathing.’

  ‘And not floating away, either.’

  ‘I don’t like it,’ said Danda.

  Ignoring her, Verris went to the railing and looked over the side, and Tab half-walked, half swam over to join him. Below the pod was nothing but deep blue-green, blending into the most impossible blackness.

  ‘Oh my,’ Tab breathed. ‘That’s deep.’

  ‘Indeed it is.’

  ‘So, Verris, you’re the expedition leader,’ she said. ‘What happens now?’

  ‘You’re the appointed navigator – you tell me.’

  ‘Um…’

  ‘The book, Tab.’

  ‘Oh, of course.’ She went back to the little copper-bound chest, with the icefire fragment beside it on its mat, still glowing coolly in its red fist. She opened the book, and the pages swayed slightly in the water.

  ‘Anything?’ Verris asked.

  ‘Yes, there’s something here,’ Tab said. ‘Should I do it now?’

  ‘You’re the navigator.’

  Again, Tab began to ‘say’ the incantation, with its guttural yet high-pitched wordlessness. Almost imperceptibly the pod began to move again, sinking lower in the water, like a body drifting towards the ocean floor. The pressure was beginning to build, and yet at no time did Tab think to worry. Her confidence was returning, and she took comfort in the symbols and diagrams before her.

  Unless they were being sent into a trap… She pushed that thought away. Now was not the time to be panicking. It was certainly no time to be sending Danda into a panic, and judging by the look on her face, she wasn’t far away.

  ‘You’re doing well,’ Verris said, and Tab smiled at him, to thank him. He seemed very calm, which Tab found comforting. They’d been through a lot together, and she trusted him much more than anyone should ever trust a one-time pirate. She also knew that if at any point he should start looking concerned, that would be a perfect time to start panicking.

  ‘There’s some kind of light,’ Danda said from the railing, and Tab and Verris went to see. It was difficult to tell how far away the spot of light was, but it was definitely there, if a little blurry. And they were moving towards it.

  ‘Excuse me for a moment,’ Verris said, stepping over to the long sack in the corner. From it he drew a sword, long and curved. He snorted as he held it up. ‘That’s it? A Babdhir sabre? If I’d known that was what they were going to give me, I’d have brought my own. I collected a number of these back when we fought those maniacs, just as mementos. They do have a tendency to break, though.’

  ‘The sabres, or the Babdhir?’ Tab asked.

  ‘Both.’

  ‘Is there anything in that sack for the rest of us?’ Danda asked.

  Verris looked at her levelly. ‘Ever used a sword, Danda?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Then I wouldn’t let you use one anyway. You’ll just cut yourself, or even worse, me. Everyone should do the job they’ve been sent here to do – I do the leading and any fighting that needs to be done, Tab does the magic, Danda does the interpreting and…’ He stopped, and Tab saw his eyes flicker towards Torby. ‘So,’ he ended, removing the sabre from its scabbard and swinging it about. It moved listlessly through the water.

  ‘Hey, that’s going to be pretty effective,’ Tab said. ‘Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.’

  ‘Old habits,’ Verris said, returning the sabre to its scabbard and dropping it on the deck with a muffled clang. ‘It’s probably better we don’t show up armed to the teeth anyway.’

  The light was much closer now, and Tab could see that it came from a round door or window or some other opening of some kind, set into a huge dark orb, which was darker even than the blackness of the ocean depths beyond it.

  ‘I wish I could steer this thing,’ Tab said. ‘I’d turn us around and high-tail it out of here.’

  ‘Steady,’ Verris said as the pod neared the orb. It was looming now, enormous, and somehow in the cold light reflecting from the sides of the pod, she could see that its surface was smooth, like glass. And clean. Not a barnacle, not a scratch.

  ‘I think we’ve found the Yarka,’ Tab said. ‘Or at least, we’ve found where they live.’

  They were no more than ten feet from the orb when the pod came to a complete stop. The opening was several feet across, and the glow coming from it, while bright, didn’t make Tab feel like squinting or blinking. It was as if the light, like everything else, was struggling to make its way through the heavy water.

  ‘So, what happens now?’ Danda said. The water muddied her voice, but it couldn’t disguise its waver.

  ‘Shh.’ Verris raised his hand and turned slowly on the spot, his long hair trailing behind and around him. ‘Now we wait.’

  Even time was sluggish down here, and as Tab gazed into the light from the orb she found her mind drifting. It felt most peculiar. Here she was, below the surface of a strange
ocean, breathing water like a fish, hovering in a rudderless vessel so far down into the depths that light was soaked up by the darkness. And the portal in the side of the glassy orb continued to glow, staring at her, while she stared back.

  She was suddenly brought back by the sound of Danda’s voice. ‘Is this the only one?’ she said. ‘Is it just us and… this?’

  Then, as if they were awakened by her question, other lights began to show. Their appearance was sudden, not like lighting a lamp or a candle, where the wick must catch, then build to a flickering warmth, but immediate. The same cold bluish light appeared in a spot to their right, then to their left, then below, above, everywhere, one after another. And as each light reached them through the water, the orb from which it came showed up as well, dark and alien. There were tens

  … no, hundreds, perhaps even thousands of the dark structures, hovering in the water all around, each of them with its glowing round window pointed directly at them.

  ‘I think what you meant to say was “Is it just us and these?”,’ Verris said solemnly. ‘And yes, that’s exactly what it is – just us and… these.’

  GOATS AND FLYING BRICKS

  Amelia was feeling ill. Worrying could do that, and the person she was worrying about was Tab.

  She hadn’t been concerned until she arrived at Nor’west City Farm to find that Tab wasn’t there. Bendo was, though, looking furious. ‘Where is that friend of yours?’ he demanded. ‘She’s in trouble, I tell you.’

  Amelia shrugged. ‘I haven’t seen her all day,’ she replied. ‘I was hoping you might know where she was.’

  ‘Well I don’t,’ he snapped. ‘So if you do come across her, you should warn her that when I see her there’ll be hell to pay.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to let her know,’ Amelia replied.

  Philmon was on a day off. She found him outside his quarters, sitting against a wall in the dim overcast daylight. He was reading a book, and seemed a little annoyed that Amelia would interrupt his day off to ask if he’d seen Tab.

  He laid his book in his lap and sighed. ‘Amelia, what you’re forgetting is that I don’t keep an eye on every single movement Tab makes,’ he said. ‘You know what she’s like – she’s always off on one kind of adventure or another.’

  ‘I guess that’s what’s worrying me,’ Amelia said. ‘Most of the time when she gets into these adventures she’s got you or me to look after her.’

  ‘I don’t think she needs all that much looking after,’ Philmon said. ‘Most of the time it’s her looking after us. You know, I think she’ll probably turn up at any moment with a cheeky grin on her face.’

  Amelia tried to smile. ‘You’re right, Philmon. I should stop worrying.’

  Philmon picked up his book again, and Amelia turned to leave. Then she stopped and faced him again.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’

  Philmon returned his book to his lap and looked up. ‘What is it?’

  ‘How long since you’ve seen Torby?’

  ‘I don’t know – a few days. Why?’

  ‘I just got a feeling that I should check on him.’

  Philmon scratched his ear. ‘A feeling?’

  ‘Yes. It wasn’t a big feeling, more just a… a thought, I guess.’

  ‘About Torby?’

  ‘Yes. Do you think that’s weird?’

  Philmon shook his head. ‘I think about people all the time, but it doesn’t make me wonder if it’s weird.’

  ‘I know that. I just… It’s a very icky feeling, Philmon, right here.’ She rested her hand on her stomach.

  ‘You’ve probably eaten a bad thickleberry tart.’

  ‘We both know there’s no such thing as a bad thickleberry tart. No, it’s strange, I know, but I really feel that I need to go and see him. Will you come with me?’

  Philmon sighed and closed his book. ‘It doesn’t look like I’m going to get this finished today.’

  ‘What’s it about?’ Amelia asked.

  ‘It’s a retelling of The Gimlet Eye. It’s not the full-length version, though. It’s one of those condensed book thingies. But I thought I should read it before we go to see the play. It’s not a bad yarn, actually.’

  ‘Excellent. You can explain it to me on the way.’

  The nursemaid in the entry hall of the infirmary was busy. Or at least, she gave a very good impersonation of someone who was busy. She tutted and sighed, and continued writing in her large book. ‘I really don’t have time for this,’ she complained. ‘You’ll just have to wait.’

  ‘Look, it’s very simple,’ said Philmon. ‘We just want to see our friend. We come in here quite often, and it’s never been a problem before. Can’t we just go up?’

  ‘You do know that I’m a magician, don’t you?’ Amelia said.

  The nursemaid glanced up at her, a sneer on her lips. ‘I know who you are, and I know you used to be a magician. Or it was in fact an apprentice magician, wasn’t it? Otherwise…’ She finished the sentence by mouthing the words ‘Skulum Gate’.

  ‘Yes, that’s true,’ Amelia muttered. ‘But I still learnt some pretty good spells.’

  ‘Don’t threaten me,’ the nursemaid replied. ‘I’ll get to you when I’m good and ready.’ Then, almost as if to emphasise the point, she bit on her thumbnail while she took a moment to read back over what she’d just written. Finally, after she’d written no more than a couple of words to finish, she laid the pen down and looked at them. ‘Now, children, can I help you?’

  ‘We’d like to see our friend Torby,’ Philmon said.

  The expression that crossed the nursemaid’s face sent a sudden shudder through Amelia, not quite as strong as the bad feeling that had sent her to Philmon to begin with, but still an unpleasant sensation that crawled across the back of her shoulders.

  The nursemaid’s eyes narrowed, and her voicebox bobbed as she swallowed suddenly. ‘Torby, did you say?’

  Philmon nodded, ‘Yes, Torby. You know, the boy who lies there with the blank face.’

  ‘Oh, I know who Torby is,’ the nursemaid replied. ‘But you want to see him?’

  ‘Yes please.’

  ‘Just to see if he’s all right,’ Amelia added.

  ‘I see. Could you give me just a moment?’ the nursemaid replied, standing up in such a hurry that she almost knocked her chair over. ‘Excuse… excuse me.’ And she left the room, her skirts swishing around as she bustled out and headed down the long, echoey corridor.

  ‘What do you think that was all about?’ Amelia asked Philmon.

  He shook his head and shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

  At the far end of the corridor, the nursemaid was talking to another, smaller woman, with a stern, officious face. Amelia recognised this second woman as the head of the place. She’d seen her around the infirmary, but they’d never spoken.

  The conversation between the two women drew to an end, and the head of the infirmary nodded curtly, before striding officiously towards Amelia and Philmon.

  ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this,’ Philmon said quietly.

  ‘Have you got it too?’ Amelia asked, her hand going to her stomach.

  ‘I don’t mean that kind of bad feeling. It’s not all magicky or anything. I just feel like she’s bringing bad news about Torby.’

  Amelia’s mouth was dry as she said, ‘I think you might be right. I hope you’re wrong, but I do think you might be right.’

  The head of the infirmary came into the room, with the nursemaid following a short but respectful distance behind. ‘Good morning. I’m Myla – I’m in charge here.’

  ‘We’ve seen you before,’ Amelia said.

  ‘Now, you’re looking for your friend?’

  ‘Yes, Torby. But we know where his bed is. There’s no need for all this fuss…’ Amelia began to say.

  Myla gave a very quick, flickering smile, but her eyes remained very serious. ‘You might know where his bed is, but do you know where he is?’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ a
sked Philmon.

  ‘He’s not here.’

  ‘So where is he?’ Amelia asked.

  Myla shook her head. The flickering, humourless smile was back again for a moment. ‘He’s gone.’

  ‘Gone?’ Philmon said. ‘Gone where, exactly?’

  ‘We don’t know – he just disappeared,’ the nursemaid interjected. ‘Oh,’ she added quickly as Myla cast her a withering glare.

  ‘She’s right,’ Myla said. ‘He disappeared some time last evening.’

  ‘Wasn’t anyone watching him?’ Philmon asked, his face beginning to redden. ‘I mean, he doesn’t even move!’

  ‘We were otherwise occupied,’ Myla explained.

  ‘Yes. Things were falling down on the goat, you see,’ the nursemaid explained. ‘Plus there was the -’

  ‘Risha!’ Myla turned her head slightly to one side and cut the nursemaid off mid-sentence. ‘That will do. There are patients who need seeing to. Now,’ she added firmly as the nursemaid opened her mouth to argue.

  She watched Risha leave, before returning her attention to Amelia and Philmon. ‘Last night, a wall fell down in the rear courtyard.’

  Philmon frowned. ‘A wall?’

  ‘That’s right. Plop. Went right over.’

  ‘And what does that have to do with Torby?’

  ‘Or a goat?’ Amelia added.

  ‘This is a little embarrassing, but we – by that I mean me and the three other women who work here under very trying and difficult conditions, I might add – were out in the courtyard trying to put out the fire and free the goat.’

  ‘Free the goat?’ said Philmon, shaking his head slowly. ‘This is unbelievable! If it wasn’t so serious it’d be funny!’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Amelia said. ‘So you were outside trying to free the goat from what? Did the wall fall on the goat?’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I’m trying to tell you,’ Myla said. ‘The goat was tied up to the lemon tree, right beside the wall. And then, somehow, the wall came down on the goat. It also flattened part of our kitchen, and started a small fire. The cook’s had to take the day off, he was so shaken by the incident.’