It was an empty world below Quentaris. It had been for days, ever since they arrived through the gentle vortex. Day upon day of endless ocean below, and overcast skies above, with a washed-out sun doing its best to cast its weak glow from beyond the thin cloud.
Tab leaned out over the edge of the parapet and looked down. Beside her, Philmon formed a huge blob of saliva between his lips. It grew and grew, and finally he pursed his lips and let it break free. It fell past the city wall, past the jutting rocks and soil where Quentaris had been torn away from its original site, and continued to pick up speed as it plummeted down towards the blue shimmer of the ocean far below. Then, long before it had even passed the bottom of the ‘keel’ of Quentaris, it was lost to their view.
‘You’re disgusting,’ Amelia said, but she giggled as a nearby sightseer tutted his disapproval.
‘It’s not like there’s anything down there for it to land on,’ Philmon replied. ‘It’s just a whole lot of water. Spit plus water equals more water.’
‘So, Philmon, what’s the word from up in the rigging?’ Tab asked. ‘It’s been fifteen days now…’
‘Eighteen,’ Amelia corrected her.
‘Is it that many? So, it’s been eighteen days since we arrived here, and nothing. No landing parties…’
‘There’s nothing to land on,’ Philmon said.
‘So why are we staying here? Couldn’t they call up a new vortex and go somewhere better?’
‘I wouldn’t know. They don’t tell me anything like that. I just work up there,’ Philmon replied.
‘I wasn’t trying to squeeze you for information,’ she said.
He smiled. ‘Yes you were.’
‘All right, I kind of was. But you don’t know anything?’
‘Not a thing.’
‘Maybe we’re staying here. Maybe Florian’s bored with being a pirate,’ Amelia said.
Tab frowned at her. ‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘What if someone hears you?’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Well you should care. They’ll chuck you in Skulum Gate with all the others. And me as well.’
‘You should be careful,’ Philmon agreed. He turned and looked at the tired sun, which was trying to shine through, and mostly failing. ‘I think I’m back on shift soon,’ he said. ‘It’s hard to say with that sun. It doesn’t behave like it should. Have you noticed how much shorter the days are?’
‘Maybe that’s why there’s been eighteen of them when I thought there were only fifteen,’ Tab mused.
‘No, that’s because you’re bored,’ Amelia said. ‘Come on, let’s go and see how Fontagu’s going with the play.’
‘Oh, that’s not fair!’ Philmon wailed. ‘I’ve got to go to work!’
‘Well have a great time,’ Tab said. ‘And see if you can find out anything.’
‘I’ll do what I can.’
While Philmon slouched off to work, the girls began the ten minute walk to the New Paragon playhouse. ‘I still don’t know what this stupid play’s about,’ Amelia said. ‘I know nothing about this story.’
‘You’re such a cultured thing, aren’t you?’ Tab replied, deciding not to tell Amelia that she’d slept through most of the one production she’d seen. ‘You don’t know the story of The Gimlet Eye?’
Amelia shrugged. ‘Should I?’
‘Probably.’
‘So, tell me about it. And try to make it interesting.’
‘Well, it’s a bit of an old-fashioned story,’ Tab said.
‘You mean the language?’
‘Not just that. I mean yes, it is written with old-fashioned words, but the story’s pretty old as well. You know, with people mistaking girls for boys and boys for girls and snakes for worms and all that kind of carry-on. I can’t believe people used to fall for that sort of thing!’
‘People haven’t always been as smart as they are now,’ Amelia said.
‘I guess that’s true. Anyway, the story goes a bit like this: there’s this beastie roaming the mountains near a particular village. All the people who live in the village are getting terrified, because this beast – the Gimlet Eye, it’s called – is causing serious havoc. It starts out killing livestock, like horses and mules and sheep and goats and ducks and shickins and all sorts of things.
‘So the little… the commoners put up with this for a while, but eventually they’re starting to get fed up with having to lock all their animals away every night. But they’re not as fed up with the locked-up the animals away as the beastie is, and it starts taking unsuspecting people. Anyone alone in the fields, or in the woods, or sleeping rough, the Gimlet Eye takes them.’
‘Hang on, why’s it called the Gimlet Eye? What does that even mean?’
‘A gimlet is a really sharp little tool, kind of like a spike. It’s a bit like a very small hand-drill, I think.’
Amelia looked confused. ‘And the eye?’
‘I’m getting there,’ Tab said, with a tiny frustrated shake of her head. ‘The Eye kills people by waking them up, or getting their attention, then it takes on the form of a beautiful woman. And when I say beautiful, I mean the most beautiful woman you can imagine.’
Amelia sighed. ‘How did I know this was coming?’ she said, stepping around a dog that was scratching fleas in the middle of the street. ‘There’s always a beautiful woman who turns out to be the monster.’
‘Not always, but in this case, yes,’ Tab said, smiling. ‘So the Gimlet Eye takes on the form of a gorgeous woman, and when it’s got the attention of the man in question, it holds his attention, and of course he can’t move because he’s absolutely transfixed by its beauty. And while he’s transfixed, it gazes into his eyes, and cooks his brain.’
‘Through the eyes?’ Amelia asked breathlessly.
‘Exactly, through the eyes. And when the victim goes into this state of… of nothingness, the monster moves in and ung! – the man’s dead. One bite, there goes the head, chomp chomp chomp.’
‘Well, it sounds like a great story so far. A really fun play to take the whole family to.’
‘Oh yes, absolutely!’ Tab said with a laugh.
A seller from the nearby markets had just slouched by with his high-laden mule. ‘Hang on,’ Amelia said, ‘you just told me that this Gimlet Eye thing turns into a beautiful woman, right? So how does it transfigure -’
‘Transfix.’
‘Sorry, how does it transfix animals? Does it take the form of an especially lovely lady-goat or lady-donkey?’
‘No, I think for the animals it just goes ung! To be honest, the original text doesn’t really go into its methods of attracting livestock, Amelia.’
‘Sorry. I just thought it seemed like quite a major flaw in the story.’
Tab frowned at her. ‘And the fact that this creature can simmer your brains with a stare didn’t make you stop and think? Come on, Amelia, these old legends don’t care about that kind of thing. You shouldn’t get so technical.’
‘Very well, but there is one more thing,’ Amelia went on. ‘If this monster thing likes to turn itself into a gorgeous woman to lure its prey, who are always men, why don’t they just send the womenfolk of the village out to kill it?’
Tab stopped walking for a moment and stared at her. ‘I don’t know, all right? They just don’t! Should we carry on with the story?’
Amlia shrugged. ‘Sure, if you think it’s worth it.’
‘ Thank you. So, they decide to hunt this thing down, and there’s this one man in the village – a carpenter called Robar, but he’s quite poor, and not at all brave. He’s also lame, and has to use a stick when he walks, and he barely makes enough money to support himself, his wife and his little dog Fargus.’
‘Why doesn’t his wife get a job?’ Amelia asked.
Tab took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know, Amelia. She’s got no arms.’
Amelia’s eyes were suddenly wide. ‘Really? She’s got no arms?’
‘No! No, of course she has arms – I made that bit up. I don’t know why she doesn’t work, but she doesn’t. And neither does he, really, as I said, because he’s lame. And to make matters worse, he’s blind in one eye. He’s a bit of a mess, truth be told.’
‘Sad.’
‘It is.’
‘Hard, being a carpenter with only… Sorry. Continue.’
‘Thank you. So anyway, when the villagers decide that they’re going to hunt down this Gimlet Eye beastie, Robar says he wants to go along.’
‘With his walking stick?’
‘Exactly. And with his one good eye. And of course everyone in the village thinks that the very idea that he should go along on the hunt is totally hilarious, including his wife.’
‘Now that’s not very kind.’
‘Oh, his wife’s the worst of the lot! Her name is Sarad, and as well as not helping out with the income, she’s a first-rate… well, let’s just say that she’s not very nice. And she’s always ridiculing Robar, and saying that she wishes she’d married someone brave and strong like Darmas Girth, the local hunter, who thinks that he’s the big man in the village. Because the thing is, she’s actually quite in love with him.
‘Then Darmas Girth leads the hunting party out into the dark woods – without Robar – and they search for days, but can’t find the Eye. But one night, when they’re about to give up the search, the hunting party is sleeping out in the woods, near a creek of some kind, and Darmas Girth hears the sound of singing, and he wakes up to see a beautiful maiden bathing in the moonlight, singing softly to herself.’
‘Oh dear,’ Amelia sighed. ‘She’s naked, isn’t she?’
Tab smiled. ‘I’m afraid so.’
Amelia chuckled. ‘Men,’ she said.
‘It’s a fable, Amelia. So of course Darmas Girth can’t look away, he’s so captivated by her beauty, and he gets up from his place beside the fire and goes over there, and the beautiful woman turns around and yes, it’s the beastie, and it cooks his brain and eats his head.’
‘Nice,’ said Amelia. ‘Isn’t it? So all the other men wake up and hear this commotion, and luckily the Gimlet Eye is too busy eating Darmas Girth’s head to bother looking like a lovely woman any more, so they see it in all its horrible awfulness.’
‘Which is what? What’s it look like?’
Tab shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. It’s just… horrible.’
‘And awful?’
‘Yes, very. So the men all run away and go back to the village, and although they’re upset that Darmas Girth is dead – but only a bit upset, because even though he was strong and brave, he was also a bit of a bully – they’re more disappointed that they haven’t been able to kill the Gimlet Eye as they set out to do.’
‘Which means they’re going to have to keep locking their animals up at night.’
‘That’s right. But do you know who’s most upset about Darmas Girth getting his head eaten? Sarad, Robar’s wife. You see, she was secretly in love with him.’
‘It wasn’t that much of a secret,’ Amelia said. ‘You told me that just a minute ago.’
‘Well anyway, it’s a secret to everyone else, including Robar. And when he finds out that his wife is so grief-stricken at the news of Darmas Girth’s death, he decides to do something.’
‘Let me guess – he decides to go out and hunt the Gimlet Eye himself.’
‘Yes! Exactly!’ Tab replied. ‘How did you know?’
‘Just a hunch. But hang on – won’t he get his head eaten as well?’
Tab stopped walking and looked at Amelia, a sly smile on her lips. ‘He can only fall victim to the Gimlet Eye if he can see it, can’t he?’
‘I suppose so…’
‘And he’s already blind in one eye, isn’t he? So do you know what he does?’
‘Oh no,’ Amelia said, shaking her head. ‘He doesn’t!’
‘He does. He goes out into the woods with his walking stick and his trusty little dog Fargus, and in his pocket he has a small tool from his workshop – a tiny little hand-drill.’
‘A gimlet!’ said Amelia.
Tab nodded and smiled. ‘Exactly. And he hunts for the monster until one night he’s sitting by his campfire and he hears Fargus start woofing like mad. The dog’s going crazy, and sensing that he’s spotted the beastie, Robar takes out the gimlet from his pocket and…’ She paused, watching Amelia for a reaction.
They’d stopped walking, and were in the middle of the street, with people pushing past, walking around them, going about their daily errands. ‘What does he do with the gimlet?’ Amelia asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
‘I don’t know,’ Tab replied. ‘That’s as far as I’ve read.’
‘No!’ cried Amelia. ‘You must know what happens!’
Tab grinned, and shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’
‘You could have said that you didn’t know the ending to the story before you started telling it to me!’
Tab shrugged. ‘Yes, probably. Oh, look, we’re there,’ she added, peering up at the front wall and main door to the New Paragon.
The Unja guard at the front door was young and bored, so it was a very simple matter to distract him by ‘accidentally’ knocking over a water trough in the street, then sneaking into the playhouse while he was watching the ensuing havoc.
The loudest voice the girls could hear as they entered was Fontagu’s. ‘No, no, no!’ he was shouting at a poor, hapless young boy in a dress. ‘The part of Sarad needs more menace. But not too much. I’m sure you’ve at least heard of subtlety? She’s a complex character, you stupid boy, and you’re playing her like some kind of one-dimensional fishwife!’ He put his hands to his head and sank back onto a chair, while the boy in the dress and another young man holding an oversized stage sword stood stunned and awkward.
‘If only they’d let girls play girls’ parts,’ Amelia said.
‘Or Florian,’ Tab replied, and they both laughed.
At the sound of their laughter, Fontagu turned and saw them. ‘Friends!’ he said. ‘Oh, it’s so good to see a couple of kind faces. Kind intelligent faces, not like these dolts. Go on, take a break before I see sense and fire you both,’ he said to the two actors, who scuttled away backstage.
‘Not going so well, then?’ Tab asked, leaning on the edge of the stage and looking up at Fontagu.
He groaned. ‘If Florian doesn’t kill me, the reviews will! It’s less than a week until opening night, and look at what I’m working with – wooden swords and a clod in a dress!’
Tab felt something on her foot, and looked down to see a small, fluffy white dog sitting on it. ‘Make yourself comfortable, won’t you?’ she said to it.
‘Oh, how cute!’ squealed Amelia, bending down to scratch the dog’s head. ‘Whose is it?’
‘I don’t rightly know,’ Fontagu said. ‘It just turned up off the street and took a shine to me. I don’t suppose you’re an agent, are you?’ he asked the dog, before groaning and shaking his head despairingly. ‘Then you could get me out of his mess.’
‘What’s the dog called?’ Tab asked.
‘I’ve named him after the dog in the play,’ Fontagu said.
‘Fargus!’ Amelia said proudly. ‘Is he going to actually be in the play?’
‘No, I don’t expect so, but I could stick him in a dress and he’d be certain to do a better job than that halfwit you were unfortunate enough to see a moment ago.’
‘How are the script changes working out?’
‘The ones that Janus made?’ Fontagu appeared less than impressed. ‘Imagine the finest thickleberry tart, with clotted cream and a drizzle of lemon whey.’
‘Mmm,’ the girls said in unison.
‘Now imagine a cockroach crawling through it.’
‘Ew,’ said Tab.
‘Uh-uh,’ said Amelia.
‘Well, the tart is my play, and that horrid insect crawling through it is the page of changes they insisted upon.’ Fontagu sighed and stood up. ‘Well, you’d best let me get on with it – see if we can’t pick around the cockroach. You can stay and watch for a while if you like. Come on, cretins one and all,’ he called. ‘Dresses on and away we go.’ Then he glanced back at the girls and rolled his eyes again.
While Fontagu and the other actors went back to their rehearsals, Tab and Amelia went exploring the New Paragon. The main part of the playhouse was a huge expanse of stone floor scattered with straw, where the audience would stand, looking up at the performers. Around the walls were stalls for those prepared to pay a little more for their tickets, while the royal box was near the side of the stage. The girls sat in the cushioned seats, putting their feet up on the side-tables and looking down their noses at the actors practising on the stage.
‘I am Florian the Gross,’ Amelia said. ‘I am better than everyone here.’
‘And I am Janus the Slightly Creepy,’ said Tab. ‘I have a friend who smells of tigerplums.’
They stayed and watched from the royal box for a while longer, but after seeing Fontagu screaming insults at his poor, bumbling cast for twenty minutes or so, Tab turned to Amelia. ‘Torby?’
‘Torby.’
Being the middle of the day, they went by the most direct route to the Grendelmire Infirmary, even though that took them straight past the lane that was believed to lead to Skulum Gate.
‘Don’t even look down there,’ Tab said to Amelia as they passed.
‘I know it’s a bit creepy, but don’t you ever wonder -’
‘No. No, I don’t. If we’d been just a little more experienced, it would have been us, Amelia. We should have been grateful that we were still learning.’
‘So why wasn’t Stelka sent there?’
‘Can you imagine the outcry? No, they needed a reason that people could agree with, so they made up that ridiculous charge and threw her in jail. Come on, don’t slow down,’ she said, grabbing Amelia’s arm and dragging her away from the laneway with the dead end and the cold air.
The Grendelmire Infirmary was three storeys high, with an imposing facade and rows of small, unfriendly looking, barred windows.
‘It’s sad, visiting Torby here,’ Amelia said.
‘True, but I think it’s important.’
‘He doesn’t even notice that we’re here.’
‘I know.’
The room that doubled as an entry hall was empty, so they made their way straight up the stairs to the second floor, where Torby’s bed was. He’d been moved from his comfortable space some months before to make room for the dying mother of one of Florian’s favoured courtiers, and after she finally died, they’d never bothered to move Torby back. His was the last in a row of a dozen or so beds, which faced another row on the opposite side. About half the beds were occupied, mostly by very old people, and one or two who were muttering madly under their breath.
Torby lay on his left side, his eyes turned to the blank wall. Even when the girls stood at the end of his bed and spoke to him, there was no reaction from him; not even a flicker of the eyes.
‘Torby,’ said Tab, crouching down beside him and taking his hand. ‘It’s Tab and Amelia. How are you today? Can you squeeze my hand?’
There was no response. Tab looked at Amelia, and saw tears in her eyes.
‘What have they done to you, Torby?’ Amelia said.
‘It’s terrible,’ Tab said. ‘He’s getting so thin.’
‘Sorry, but I’ve got to go,’ Amelia suddenly said. Then she turned and half-ran for the door.
‘We’ll come and see you again tomorrow,’ Tab promised, giving Torby’s hand another squeeze. ‘Keep hanging on, all right? You’ll be fine.’
She headed back downstairs, and found Amelia sitting on the front steps.
‘Are you all right?’ Tab asked, sitting down beside her.
Amelia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I hate seeing him like that. He was doing so well, then… then this.’
‘I know,’ Tab replied, tucking her friend’s hair back behind her ear. ‘It’s so strange, though. He was getting back into his magic, becoming more confident.’
‘There had to be some kind of connection between the Archon dying and Torby going backwards,’ said Amelia. ‘I bet it had something to do with Florian.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘True, but don’t you think it would be interesting to know what happened to Torby, and whether it was linked? But of course now Torby can’t tell us.’
Tab nodded. ‘It makes me angry too. But you have to keep your temper under control, Amelia. And you can’t just say whatever comes into your head wherever you happen to be. Even if Florian…’ She stopped while a visitor passed them on his way into the infirmary, then lowered her voice a little. ‘Even if Florian did make Torby that way, there’s no way to prove it.’
‘I know.’
‘So don’t let yourself get so worked up about it.’
‘You’re right. And what is that disgusting smell?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t smell it. Oh yes, there it is!’
‘That’s the smell of tigerplums!’
Tab shuddered. ‘Aren’t they hideous? There must be a tree around here somewhere.’
‘They should cut them all down, if you ask me, the horrid, stinking things.’