Doctor Who_ Ghost Light - Marc Platt [10]
Mrs Pritchard turned and snapped her fingers. The maids followed obediently as she stalked away into the house.
Journal entry. September 19th, 1883.
... by some unimaginable feat of cunning, I have managed to break free of my bonds and escape from the but where the devils who inhabit this God forsaken spot incarcerated me. I can hear their drums; the pounding never stops. It is three days now since I found myself in this forest. I am without supplies or company, but Redvers learned long ago how to survive on the provender of the bush, and he taught me everything I know. I am certain they are holding him close by and I have so much to report to him.
For I have looked upon the most wondrous of things.
I must be careful how I move. Even with the drums, this is a strange, silent forest. Full of eyes, watching all the time. In places the trees grow so densely that they become impenetrable walls, but the local
tribeswomen have cleared paths through them. The tree canopy is low and curtains of thick foliage in many hues hang from it.
Likewise, the pathways are carpeted with thickly matted leaves and flowers. Strangest of all, the locals have carved strange totems, which litter the pathways. In the queerest of ways, they remind me of furniture. Redvers says the jungle can get to you like that, but I am no greenhorn and not prone to
hallucinations. One thing spurs me forward: Redvers is trapped somewhere near, held prisoner by the evil ruler of this region. I must find him at all costs.
I can suddenly make out two figures in the clearing just ahead. With the intention of challenging them, I have wrested a native spear from where it hung on a tree beside a barometer. If they prove to be servants or confederates of the vile tyrant and assail me, it will cost them their lives...
Ace was still assessing her surroundings. She and the Doctor had come down two floors and still not reached ground level. The corridors in the lower part of the house were filled with every kind of stuffed bird. Their glass eyes seemed to be watching and this hardly made Ace feel comfortable, but she could not let the Doctor know it.
‘We used to go to museums on school trips,’ she announced. ‘It was always "don’t touch, don’t wander off, don’t get the school a bad name". Still did it though.’
They reached a junction; the Doctor licked his finger and held it up to test the air movement.
‘The front door must be this way,’ he said, setting off to the right.
Ace turned the corner after him and nearly walked into a large penguin-like bird that was mounted on a pedestal.
‘Hallo,’ she said, face to face with the bird and only inches from its razor-sharp bill. ‘What’s a great auk like you doing in a place like this? You got stuffed and it wasn’t even Christmas.’
‘Ace!’ complained the Doctor, coming back to fetch her.
‘See you later,’ Ace told the auk as she headed along the Doctor’s route. He passed her going in the opposite direction; his umbrella hooked over her arm and pulled her back.
Unnoticed by either of them, the great auk’s eyes started to glow a soft pink colour.
‘What do you make of that?’ asked the Doctor, pointing at a small silver box he had noticed lying on the carpet. He crouched down beside it and she followed suit.
‘Dunno. Looks like a jewel box.’ Ace squinted as she tried to make out the initials engraved on the lid.
The Doctor produced a small instrument and pointed it at the box. The scanner gave a sonic twitter. The Doctor took a reading from a dial and put the instrument back in his pocket.
‘Snuff,’ he said.
Ace grimaced. ‘Inhaling that stuff! I’m surprised humans made it into the twentieth century.’
‘At this point they haven’t... not yet. What else?’
‘It’s silver. Whose initials are RFC?’ she asked making out the engraving