Doctor Who: Lungbarrow (19 page)

'Is she back?' said Leela, delighted.

The glance that Andred shot her was enough to frighten babies and silence the Evil One himself.

83

Old Bones

No more time to lose. Too much lost already.

Glospin scrambled up the big stairs on al fours. His legs, cramped in the stove for so long, protested at every stride. Ideas flared in his mind. So much that he had pondered for so long. Hatred, like a wine laid down in the dark, six hundred and seventy-three years in the maturing. A blood-red flagon ready to be tapped.

One thought overarched the torrent of ideas. He must be first to tell Satthralope.

He reached the landing and saw the Drudge. It loomed over him, a patina of white dust across its polished wooden surface.

'Satthralope,' gasped Glospin. 'I have to see her.
He's
here.
He's
come back.'

The Drudge emitted a guttural creak of rage and lunged for him.

Glospin dodged and ran. A table reached out a leg and tripped him. An occasional cupboard swung its door into his path, catching him across the forehead. He tumbled to the floor, shaking his stunned head.

The Drudge's wooden hand lifted him like a dol and tucked him under one arm.

It knew already. It knew about the return of that dysgenic runagate.

'Why don't you catch him?' he shouted. 'He's here in the House. Why aren't you doing anything?'

The Drudge began to move.

'No!' Glospin yel ed and started to kick. 'Not again. I'm not going back in the stove again!'

But instead of descending the stairs, the Drudge veered into a side passage. Glospin fell silent, realizing with a satisfied certainty that the servant was taking him, like a fawn-cat with captured shrew, to lay at the feet of its mistress.

***

Chris crouched by the corpse in the mushroom pen; crushing fungi underfoot; picking the sliding sluggish things off Arkhew's body; feeling sick.

'Can you lift the light higher please?' he said to Innocet, who was standing on the outside of the fence.

She raised her lamp, keeping a firm grip on the Doctor with her other hand. She had not uttered a word since Glospin had run from the Hal . She led the way and the Doctor had followed. Chris thought he had never seen the Doctor so meekly submissive.

In the flickering lamplight, Chris could make out the face of the little man who was so terrified of the dream they had shared. His thin features were half buried in mushroom compost and covered in a silvery tracery of slime trails.

'Yes, this is Arkhew,' he said, freezing his anger. 'All the time we were standing talking, he was lying in here.'

He caught the Doctor's sharp accusing glare and realized what he had given away.

'Is he ultimately dead?' said Innocet.

84

'Ultimately? Dead is dead, isn't it?'

'Not round here, it isn't,' said the Doctor.

'I don't think he's going to regenerate, if that's what you mean.'

The Doctor started to climb over the fence, but Innocet hauled him back by the scruff of his linen collar.

'You can't think I did this,' he protested.

'I think nothing,' she said, which sounded to Chris about as accusatory as she could get.

He watched them for a moment. The Doctor and Innocet were staring hard at each other. It was apparent that something was passing between them - not just a mutual understanding, but a possible exchange of telepathic information.

***

The old Housekeeper stirred in her rocking chair. Her gluey eyelids shuddered and opened a crack.

Glospin tried to pul free of the hand chair in which he had been placed. The huge fingers that formed its back had closed around him like a vice. 'Wake up, Cousin. It's him. He's come back. The outcast.'

'What's that?' She was still drowsy. 'Who's there? Where are my Family?'

A Drudge moved in and pul ed away the skein of web that covered her face. Taking a damp sponge from one of the wooden drawers in its cassock, it gently wiped her eyes. She made little infantile mewlings as the sponge dabbed at her face. Then she thrust the huge servant away.

'Glospin? Is that you?' Her voice cracked with lack of use. She squinted at the mirror.

'I'm here, Cousin,' he said from the chair beside her.

Satthralope tried to turn, but the effort was too strenuous. 'Come to see me, have you?' She started to cackle with something that he might once have mistaken for affection. 'Or did the Drudges bring you, eh, you wicked one?'

'I came to warn you. Look in the mirror. It's
him
. The one who's name you forbade us to ever mention. He's come home at last.'

She clasped the ivory head of the walking stick that lay across her lap. Held it tight in her ancient translucent hands.

'Him?' she said.

'
He
has come back. And Arkhew's already dead.'

'No, no! No one's dead. Not without permission. It was a dream. We've been dreaming together.'

Her eyelids sank again.

'Wake up!' shouted Glospin. 'Arkhew's dead. Do something before we're all murdered in our beds!'

'Murder? I forbade that word! There was no murder!' Her hands clasped her walking stick. She rummaged among her skirts for her keys. 'We must listen to the House.' Her neck clicked as she turned towards her servant.

'Drudge. Drudge! Is it true?'

The hinged side mirrors on the dressing table swung forward, casting endless corridors of light into the central glass. Satthralope moaned and clasped the finger-arms of her chair. She began to tremble.

85

'There is a disturbance in the bones of the House,' she whispered. 'The fledershrews are gnawing at the rafters.

There are beetles scuttling in the cel arage.' She gasped in pain. 'There is a wound gaping in the upper turrets!

Someone has crossed the threshold uninvited! Who is it? Who's there?'

'It's
him
,' said Glospin. 'Listen. He's come back.'

'
Him?
' Satthralope gave a deep groan. Her looking glass reflected the passage leading to the funguretum It was occupied by two distant figures. One was Cousin Innocet, the other wore a pale hat that hid his face.

If nothing else, thought Glospin, at least the old crone will recognize a stranger in our midst.

'Drudges! Drudges!' yelled Satthralope.

The Drudge stepped up before her.

'Why did you let me sleep so long, eh? What's the time? I want my Family round me. All of them. And bring me that one, that trespasser, whoever it is. Now!'

***

'Words alone were not enough,' Innocet said.

'The sooner Quences is woken, the better.'

The Doctor glanced down at Chris in the pen and missed a sudden look of fear on Innocet's face. Chris caught her expression and busied himself with his self-imposed role as Adjudicator. He pul ed back the roughly woven material around Arkhew's neck. 'There's a lot of bruising on his throat. At a guess I'd say somebody strangled him.'

The Doctor smacked his hand on the fence. 'Yes, of course he's ultimately dead,' he said impatiently. '
Non
regenerat
. He's been murdered. Perhaps you can supply us with a list of suspects too, Chris.'

Innocet suddenly turned to look at the entrance. 'Come out of there quickly,' she urged. 'Quickly.'

As Chris scrambled over the fence, Innocet moved towards the funguretum doorway. The huge figure of a Drudge emerged from the shadows, towering even over her.

Its whole body swivelled to glare at Chris and the Doctor, but Innocet blocked its path, holding the lamp up to its implacable face. 'No,' she said firmly.

The Drudge tried to move past her. It pointed a hand at the intruders and gave a dry growl of anger like splintering timber.

'No,' repeated Innocet. 'These are my visitors. I invited them across the threshold. And by the laws of Housepitality, they are under my protection. You are to serve them as honoured guests.'

The Doctor dodged up behind Innocet pulling Chris with him. He raised his hat with a melodramatic flourish.

'Thank you very much for inviting us, Cousin Innocet. We hope our stay wil be a pleasant one.' He dug an elbow in Chris's ribs.

'Um, yeah. Thanks,' said Chris.

Innocet bowed her head, making sure that the Drudge was watching the ritual.

Two tiny polished spheres were set into the finely carved face, reflecting the room and its occupants in detail. Chris caught sight of his own image and felt trapped.

Sunlight dazzled on the leaves and on the river. He heard the clacking antlers of jousting neversuch beetles.

86

He poked one beetle, almost a hand long, with a cut reed. It droned its flightless wings and snapped at the reed with its mandibles. He poked it again and watched it scuttle for cover.

There was a cry of despair behind him.

He turned and saw a young woman struggling dawn the sandy bank to the shore. It was Cousin Innocet. She looked about twenty years old. Her robe, absurdly heavy for such an expedition, had caught on a thorny root. It was riding up, showing off her underskirts.

She scolded him as he laughed. She tried to pul herself free, but the basket she carried tipped up and spilt berries all down the bank.

Her footing slipped and she slithered down after them, landing with a squelchy thump.

'We'll be late for supper,' she said, as she tried to flatten down her wayward skirts.

He saw that she was laughing as well.

Chris felt their arms support him. His mouth tasted of dust.

'My room,' he heard Innocet saying.

The Drudge swivel ed on its base to watch them carry him away.

'I'm all right,' he muttered woozily.

'Lucky old you,' he thought he heard the Doctor say.

87

At Home with Cousin Innocet

Chris reached a decision before they even reached the room. The best way to understand this place was to play neutral. Don't talk, just watch. Play the invalid for al it was worth.

Easier said than done. The voices in his head had started their whispering again. One word came through strongly, called over and over. It sounded like
Muljermeen
.

As for the visions and dreams, some were psychic echoes recorded in the stones and wood of the House, he was sure of that. But the other dreams had started before he got to Lungbarrow. They were brightly coloured and smelt and tasted. Not like his own dreams at all. They had the Doctor's prints all over them. They were the Doctor's dreams, but Chris was unsure whether they were projected deliberately or were just leaking out of a hole in the Time Lord's head.

He felt dizzy and slightly nauseous. He groaned and put all his considerable weight on the Doctor and Innocet.

Good job I'm not in armour too, he thought.

'I'm sure that Drudge is following us,' muttered the Doctor. 'Don't look back.'

Innocet stumbled and nearly dropped Chris.

'I'll take him.' Chris was astonished to find himself being hefted up into the Doctor's arms.

'There's nothing behind us,' said Innocet.

'Speak for yourself,' complained the Doctor as they set off again. 'What a place. It's a wonder we haven't al evolved with rearview eyes.'

'Who is this?' said Innocet.

'Chris? He's my friend. He trusts me. Now tell me about the buried House? And the murder?'

'What murder?' Innocet said sharply. 'There's been
no
murder. Quences is in stasis.'

No one mentioned Quences, thought Chris.

'I was thinking about Arkhew,' said the Doctor.

So was I, thought Chris. My chief witness. And now he's dead. Funny that.

'He was always an inoffensive sort of chap, as I recall. Gentle, unassuming. Unusual for this Family. Didn't he want to be a cloud-sculptor?'

'He did,' said Innocet. 'But this business put a stop to that.'

They trudged on in silence. The House seemed to go for miles.

At last Innocet said, 'Where did you get a TARDIS from?'

'Ah,' said the Doctor. 'You overheard.'

'I suppose it was the only way to get in here.'

He grunted. 'I assume the transmat booth was rendered inoperable whenever whatever happened happened.' Her only response was 'Yes', so he said, 'Anyway, now I'm here, we can wake Quences up and sort this whole business out.'

88

No response. Chris, with his eyes shut, heard a door handle turn.

'And I hope I was worth waiting for,' the Doctor added. As he swung Chris round to negotiate the doorway, he muttered, 'I hope you're noting al this down.'

Inside, Chris heard another familiar voice start to say, 'I've brought Maljamin, just as you. . .' The voice faltered.

Chris half opened one eye and saw Cousin Owis, raggedly dressed, but still full-faced, almost chubby, compared with the other inmates of the place.

Owis was staring at the newcomers like an outsize schoolboy with his mouth wide open.

'Decorum,' snapped Innocet to no avail. She straightened a torn shawl that was draped over a large mirror.

Chris could feel the Doctor itching to raise his hat and introduce himself, but his hands were full. He lifted Chris gently up into a chair.

The room, like all the rooms in the House of Lungbarrow, had cavernously high ceilings and distant walls framed by whitewood branches. A sepia gloom pervaded everything as if the air was stained by centuries of nicotine.

Owis raised a finger and pointed. 'People,' he said. Beside him, seated in another big chair, was a second man.

He was covered in soot and was staring sadly at the floor.

'I told you to make sure he was secure,' Innocet told Owis. 'Go outside and watch for Drudges.'