Doctor Who_ Eye Of Heaven Part 9

The boat began to tilt before the wind. And it began to rain. Not the friendly, cleansing rain I had so far encountered but a dangerous rain which swept sideways off the ocean, slas.h.i.+ng directly into our faces and threatening to blind us with spray, which stung more like sand or grit than water.

The mast swayed like a horn-runner I had once killed with a crossbow.

Unlike the horn-runner, which simply did not know it was dead yet, the wind seemed to taunt us, to play with us. I felt it grip me and try to twist me off the spar. I wondered how long it would be before the s.h.i.+p fell like the horn-runner, to crash still against the waves and then slip beneath, as dead as my prey had been. I wondered what it would feel like to sink into the ocean. Would Cryuni be waiting for me there? I did not know. Perhaps there would be other G.o.ds, other demons, and they would fight for possession of my soul. I smiled. I liked the thought of the demons fighting and killing each other on my behalf, even after I was dead.

The Doctor glanced at me, eyes narrowed against the stinging rain. 'You seem to be enjoying yourself.'

I simply grinned.

We sat perched on the spar as the rain lashed at us and the wind drove Tweed Tweed further into the demon's arms All day we ran before the wind, tipped first one way and then another. The sky darkened as night drew upon us. A burning glow on the horizon showed me where the real sun was setting. It ran from the false suns cracking down from the sky all around it. The s.h.i.+p's bell rang constantly until it was secured. It was only just audible above the voice of the storm and the demon's chorus sighing in the rigging all around us. further into the demon's arms All day we ran before the wind, tipped first one way and then another. The sky darkened as night drew upon us. A burning glow on the horizon showed me where the real sun was setting. It ran from the false suns cracking down from the sky all around it. The s.h.i.+p's bell rang constantly until it was secured. It was only just audible above the voice of the storm and the demon's chorus sighing in the rigging all around us.

I was getting used to the motion of the s.h.i.+p, learning to antic.i.p.ate the blows of the storm, when Tweed Tweed was caught in a gust which had her tipped so far to starboard that the crow's nest vanished into the waves. was caught in a gust which had her tipped so far to starboard that the crow's nest vanished into the waves.

But for the fact that the sails had been furled we should have been dismasted and broken on the back of the sea. The Doctor and I allowed ourselves to move with the mast, trying to remain upright. The water was only three or four times a man's height beneath us now, the deck at an angle I felt sure would mean the end of us. Anything left loosely lashed down broke free and was carried off by the wind's soaking grasp.

And then I heard the cry. Earlier that watch Spanker Jack had lashed himself to the crow's nest - now I realised he could not get free.

I began to crawl along the mast rigging towards him. The s.h.i.+p rocked beneath me. I wound my arms into the rigging to stop myself being blown away. It was as much as I could do to draw breath. I reached the crow's nest to find Jack, half drowned, lashed firmly to the mast. I cut him free and tied us together with what remained of the rope, then dragged him back along the mast. As we moved the s.h.i.+p tipped again. Jack slipped.

The loss of his weight caused me to overbalance and we both fell - one each side of the mast. If either of us had touched the water we would both have drowned - for with one gone the other would surely have fallen. As it was I managed to grab the nearest rigging and scramble back to the mast, pulling Jack with me -in time to catch the next tilt of the s.h.i.+p as the wind died suddenly and she tipped back upright with enough force to launch both of us from the mast again, had I not deliberately entangled us with the rigging.

The movement of the s.h.i.+p did not stop with the dying of the wind. If anything it became worse.

The sea rose around us in inky mountains, a match for the clouds whirling above. These waves towered over the s.h.i.+p's deck, smas.h.i.+ng against one another in torrents of foam.

Then out of the whirlpool of blackness overhead the moon appeared, full, yellow, like a demon's eye in the darkness, lighting the water and the s.h.i.+p with a dreadful light. The moonlight saw us tossed and whirled like a stick in a river, until the savage and unpredictable changes in direction had us flopping and sick. The waves washed regularly across the deck. I caught glimpses of men las.h.i.+ng themselves down. They had given up working and were simply trying to survive.

I do not know how long Jack and I hung in the rigging, clinging together against the storm. His scrawny arms wrapped tightly around me and, both of us tangled securely within the screaming ropes, we drew as much warmth from each other as we could.

There seemed no end to the terrible movement of the s.h.i.+p. I remember screaming at the storm, alternately defying the demon to take us and begging to be left alone. At one point I heard a terrible shriek - human or s.h.i.+p I could not tell. The next moment a wall of blackness rose above us. I remember seeing the shattered corpse of another s.h.i.+p like Tweed, Tweed, sails flapping in ribbons like flayed flesh around the broken ribs of her body, hanging above us before the yellow moon, then bearing down upon us, driven like a stampeding animal by the black wall of water. I remember seeing the ghost-white specks of men clinging to her shattered timbers, and all of them screaming as they fell, a chorus of terror to match the demon wind that tried to drown them out. Then the s.h.i.+p flew across the masts and the water hit us and my scream was lost in the screaming of the sea. sails flapping in ribbons like flayed flesh around the broken ribs of her body, hanging above us before the yellow moon, then bearing down upon us, driven like a stampeding animal by the black wall of water. I remember seeing the ghost-white specks of men clinging to her shattered timbers, and all of them screaming as they fell, a chorus of terror to match the demon wind that tried to drown them out. Then the s.h.i.+p flew across the masts and the water hit us and my scream was lost in the screaming of the sea.

8.

Of Cryuni I am small and the web trees are big. I watch the spinners making them. They are pretty. All different colours. I look around. Where is them. They are pretty. All different colours. I look around. Where is Mother? Where is Father? I am hungry now I look at the big hut. Mother? Where is Father? I am hungry now I look at the big hut.

Where is Father? I am hungry. I hurt. My stomach. And my arm.

Something is moving on my arm! Something is hungry on my arm!

I am frightened! Father! I am hungry! I am frightened! Mother! It hurts! Its hungry and its hurting me, its hurting my arm and hurts! Its hungry and its hurting me, its hurting my arm and something woke me. What? I listened. Nothing. The room Stockwood gave me was bigger than my family's entire hut. Three people slept there for many seasons. Here there was only me. something woke me. What? I listened. Nothing. The room Stockwood gave me was bigger than my family's entire hut. Three people slept there for many seasons. Here there was only me.

Yet something woke me.

I got up from the floor. I took out my knife.

What woke me? What woke me up? I sniffed the air. Fabric, old, mildewed.

Wood, dry, dusty. n.o.body has slept in this room for many seasons. n.o.body but me. I sniffed again, tasting the night beyond the walls.

Something...

Something woke me up.

I peered into the darkness. The eyes were the weakest of the hunter's senses but still a powerful weapon. I saw nothing beyond the walls and the floor and the gla.s.s windows. The curtains were open. So were the windows. The night looked in. I returned its cold stare. The night was an animal. It hunted you. There were things in the night. Things from the Beyond. Things that killed but not for food. I did not understand them.

The Doctor once told me the things from the Beyond were mental mental projections. projections. That they were not really there. I thought I understood then, but really I did not. How can something that is not there be there? That they were not really there. I thought I understood then, but really I did not. How can something that is not there be there?

And how can something else that is not there wake me up? The windows opened on to a balcony which overlooked the grounds. I look down past a tree to the undergrowth. It was black down there. Black, green, the colours of night in this land. I looked up. Dark sky. Darker clouds. The wind was familiar but the city smells it brought were confusing.

Smoke. Wood. Brick. Gla.s.s. Many different types of cloth. Animals. And people. So many different people. And metal. Metal everywhere, as if I were in a temple as big as the entire Place of Land. Metal knives, locks, bicycles, buckles, b.u.t.tons; people wearing it, horses walking on it. It was too much, like... like looking at the sun. The smells were too bright. I closed my eyes, lapping up the dark, the familiar blurry patterns behind my eyelids. When I opened my eyes the clouds had parted. There was a moon in the sky. A small, cold, lonely-looking moon. I whispered a prayer to make it happy so that it would s.h.i.+ne hard and make the night go away sooner and stay away longer.

I did not like the night in this land.

The prayer worked. I saw more light in the garden. The light was small, blinking quickly and moving fast, like many eyes in a cave of ice. I knew this light. Cryuni. Death spirit. The spell of winter. It was coming here. Coming for Stockwood. He was old and would die soon. I know this. Now the Cryuni knows it too. The death spirit was coming for him. But I liked Stockwood. The Doctor told me I was his best friend. I would protect him from the sleep of Cryuni, the sleep of death.

I whispered the spell of summer to keep me safe, held my knife in the killing grip and opened the door of my room. Outside the house was dark and smelled like winter. I could see nothing. No glimmer of light marked the spirit's presence. I listened. Something. I could hear something.

Downstairs.

I moved down the stairs carefully. They were well built and did not creak. The material - carpet carpet covering the wood helped to m.u.f.fle my covering the wood helped to m.u.f.fle my -.

footsteps. I am used to hunting prey in the Place of Land. To be silent in this place was easy.

Once downstairs I checked the study, the room directly below my own.

That was where the light came from. That was where the Cryuni would enter the house. I pushed the door. It would not open. I pushed harder.

Still no movement. Then my hand touched something cold - metal. A lump this big was worth a season's food for three people in the Land. This land was strange. So much precious stuff and yet no bars on the doors, or guards on the rooms.

I turned the handle. The door opened easily.

Inside the study I tasted the night. The big windows were open. I inhaled sharply, tasting gra.s.s, trees, the furry pelts of small night animals. I crouched to examine the floor. There was dirt on the carpet in the shape of a man's foot. I rose, confused. Spirits do not leave footprints. I checked the room against my memory of it from that afternoon. There was little difference. Anything of importance had already been packed. Had someone been here? Someone from outside? This afternoon Stockwood had been frightened that someone might have stolen his rongo-rongo. rongo-rongo. What if the What if the rongo-rongo rongo-rongo was a charm to ward off evil spirits? What if Cryuni had sent a human accomplice to steal it and remove Stockwood's magical protection? was a charm to ward off evil spirits? What if Cryuni had sent a human accomplice to steal it and remove Stockwood's magical protection?

And then I knew

Royston.

Royston was in league with Cryuni.

The death spirit would get Stockwood's soul and Royston would take his possessions as a reward for helping the spirit.

I trembled. Without Stockwood I would not be able to find the Doctor or the TARDIS. This land was strange. I did not know what was safe to eat or hunt. I did not understand why uniformed warriors with metal bicycles were not to be wors.h.i.+pped while empty tombs were. I did not understand anything. I was a stranger here. I needed the Doctor to explain.

Somehow I understood when the Doctor explained things.

I got angry. If Royston had set Cryuni on Stockwood, then perhaps he had plans to kill Stockwood's friends and family. The Doctor was Stockwood's friend. I was his best best friend, the Doctor told me so. If Cryuni was here for Stockwood's soul, perhaps it was here for mine and the Doctor's also! friend, the Doctor told me so. If Cryuni was here for Stockwood's soul, perhaps it was here for mine and the Doctor's also!

I would not allow that while I lived.

There was obviously no one in the study now. I left, closing the door quietly behind me.

I crept back up the stairs and listened at the door of the room Royston was supposed to be sleeping in. Nothing. No snores. No breathing. No sounds of movement or dream-speech. Royston was not there.

I listened at Stockwood's door. Snores. Just one person. He was still safe.

Good. I would find Royston and kill him now. Cryuni was a cowardly spirit, attacking only when its intended victim was asleep. Without a human ally Cryuni would leave us alone.

I moved quietly back downstairs. I bared my teeth, antic.i.p.ating the kill. I was aware of my body; every muscle, every movement, the relations.h.i.+ps between my eyes and fingers, ears and feet. I felt like the air before a storm. A killing storm. I had been taught to respect the prey I hunted.

Royston was not prey. I did not respect him. I knew him. His body betrayed itself to me with every breath and movement. I would take him like an animal - gut him like a horda. And then I would leave his entrails as an insult for Cryuni. It was no more than either of them deserved. I tracked Royston by the smell of tobacco on his clothes, crouched silently outside the laboratory. Inside the room I knew there were many packing cases containing Stockwood's talismans - his equipment and books. I could also hear voices.

I could not make out words. But I knew the tone. Anger. Fear. The sound a trapped animal makes. Did Royston know I planned to kill him?

Was he even now conspiring with Cryuni to kill me before taking Stockwood's soul?

I gave him no chance to strike.

I eased the handle round and then kicked the door open. I went in rolling, screaming, making myself seem bigger than I was, more than I was. That is the way to take your enemy. If stealth will not work, then use surprise: screams and confusion and a strike to the heart.

Everything happened very fast.

I saw a candle flame guttering in the darkness, flickering shadows thrown against the wall. Attracted by the movement I turned, only realising my mistake when a shot rang out. There was a shout of pain, quickly stilled by death.

I crouched in the shadows cast by the moon s.h.i.+ning in through the French windows and listened. Breathing. One man. I could smell blood and tobacco. A trace of the earth I had found in the study. There had been two men in here then. Royston and another. But which one had shot and which was dead?

I was not about to issue a challenge. I would remain silent. I would wait. Then I would kill.

I settled down to wait, controlling my breathing, making no noise in the darkness. Then footsteps sounded in the hallway. The door was thrown open and a light shone in. Stockwood. He carried a gun as if he were very familiar with it.

His voice was loud in the darkness. 'I'm armed. Come out with your hands up.'

I whispered a warning. 'It's Royston. He summoned the Cryuni and tried to steal the rongo-rongo. rongo-rongo. There is a dead man here. Get out of the light before you are killed too.' There is a dead man here. Get out of the light before you are killed too.'

There was another noise. Royston. 'Horace. It's me.'

'James?' Stockwood lowered the gun. 'What the h.e.l.l is going on here?'

I stood, prepared to throw my knife. 'I tell you he is in league with the Cryuni!'

'Don't move!' I saw Stockwood was pointing his gun at me. 'Leela. Now listen to me carefully. Put away your knife. Do it now, please.'

'You are bewitched by -'

'I am no such thing. James Royston is my oldest friend. He is not in league with anyone. Now put your knife away.'

'n.o.body tells me what to do!'

All right' Stockwood sighed. He put down his gun. 'Now will you please do as I ask?'

I looked from Stockwood to Royston. The man's lip had curled in the tiniest of smiles. I sensed no fear from him. He was amused!

'Royston is not in league with Cryuni?'

'No, Leela. He's my friend.'

'And you are not bewitched?'

'Not since I was a slip of a boy.'

I put away my knife. 'Then I am sorry.'

Royston took a step forward, 'My dear, no apologies are necessary I a.s.sure you -'

I interrupted. 'Sorry I did not arrive in time to stop him killing that that one.' I pointed behind the packing crate to the place I had heard the body fall. one.' I pointed behind the packing crate to the place I had heard the body fall.

Stockwood moved across the room and looked. His face creased in surprise. ' 'Pon my soul. It's the ruddy butler.'

Royston added, 'I couldn't sleep and I too heard a sound. I found this fellow creeping around, obviously intending to perpetrate some bit of mischief.'

I said angrily, 'You were talking to him.'

'I was challenging challenging him.' him.'

'You were angry with him! You knew him! And you shot him when I challenged you to hide that knowledge from us.'

'Well, you are right, I did shoot him,' Royston said simply. 'But not for the reason you think. And now if you'll excuse me I'll call the police. You might as well stay up. None of us are going to get any sleep tonight. And I expect you'll have to cancel your expedition. I don't suppose the police will want any of us out of their sight until their investigation is complete.'

Stockwood began to get agitated. 'That's simply not acceptable. It's a waste of resources. Yes, quite outrageous. It's clear what happened. Of course, you weren't to know, James, but Fennel here has tried to steal the rongo-rongo rongo-rongo twice already. What happened to him is no more than he deserved.' twice already. What happened to him is no more than he deserved.'

Royston looked interested. 'Then it seems justice is done.'