Doctor Who_ Lungbarrow - Marc Platt [35]
'Doctor!' shouted Chris. 'You could have left a better note!'
He knew what the Doctor was capable of, but he wouldn't do that, would he? Not murder? I mean, there'd be a good reason for him to come back to murder the head of his own Family. But Arkhew had recognised him. No getting away from that, or from any of the events they had witnessed from six hundred and seventy three years ago - Arkhew had been very precise and Chris didn't doubt the little man's story.
Not that the Doctor would admit to it. The Doctor wouldn't admit to anything. The one thing he'd seemed afraid of was the House. Chris had never seen him so cagey.
An Adjudicator never drops a case until the evidence is substantiated and verified. That ground rule was something to cling on to. Chris stretched out a hand and ran his fingers across the floor. It was full of splinters.
Places, as well as machines, could record events. Maybe the House was the expert witness.
Dammit Roz. What do I do?
His eyes were final y accustomizing to the darkness - no longer dark, just shadow-filled gloom. He pulled himself gingerly to his feet and edged a path between the furniture, away from the hole.
Close by, he could make out the downward sloping rail of a stairwell. Then he remembered the note in the dust: STAY PUT - DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING. The Doctor was still here. He'd only gone to find the TARDIS. Chris grasped the rail and reached down with his foot, finding solid support. One deep step at a time, he groped his way down the giant's stairs, moving deeper into the dark and watchful House.
49
Chapter Nine
The Whitewood House
Frost in the fire and the rocking chair
Frost in the hearth, frost in the ladle
Children's voices in the air
Wind that rocks the empty cradle.
(Mid-Gallifreyan Nursery Versery )
'I don't want you out wandering the corridors, Owis. Not after candledark.'
Innocet had gathered up the fallen cards. She packed them into a drawer and locked it.
Owis, who never made an attempt to help, watched her from an armchair. He pulled a face. 'Because the House is disturbed? Is that why the clock chimed?'
'Impossible. The clock died centuries ago.'
'I thought you knew everything. Was it another omen?' She could tell he was baiting her. 'Arkhew won't come now,'
she said pointedly.
Jobiska, who had supposedly been snoozing in the corner of her chair, opened an eye and said, 'Owis bet Arkhew that he knew where the will was hidden.'
'Again?' said Innocet.
Owis pointed angrily at Jobiska. 'That old stoker's been saving that up all the time.'
Jobiska shrank further into her chair. She began dabbing at her eyes with a grey flannel. 'I don't go out any more, dear. No one takes me out any more. If you took me out, I wouldn't overhear so much.'
'Owis,' said Innocet. 'Do you never get tired of these games? Because the rest of us do.'
Owis grinned. 'Arkhew never learns. Anyway, what else is there to do?'
She shook her head. 'I blame Cousin Glospin.'
'Good,' he said.
'And where did you tell Arkhew the wil was hidden this time?'
'I only suggested it. I didn't think anyone had looked there before.'
'Everyone has looked everywhere,' she intoned. 'Where did you say?'
Owis shrugged. 'Not telling.'
Innocet looked at Jobiska. 'In the clock, dear,' said the old lady. 'That's what he told him.'
There was a footstep outside.
By the time the door opened, the three occupants of the room were seated round the empty fire mantle enjoying a quiet moment of contemplation in each other's company.
The Drudge stalked into the room as if it was searching for an il icit and forbidden party. None of the Cousins looked up. The huge servant surveyed them for a moment. It placed the bowl of feathergil gruel that it was carrying on the table.
'Early tonight,' observed Innocet to Owis as she darned a