Doctor Who_ The Infinity Doctors - Lance Parkin [43]
Her feet were still sore from climbing so many steps.
Because she could, she stepped into the water. The pool wasn’t quite bath-warm. She walked further in, letting the water lap around her toes, her thighs, her waist, her breasts, her neck. The water began to take her weight, lift her. Lazily, she let herself drift until she was horizontal, on her back, facing up into the perfect sky, unable to see anything else.
Her hair had unwound, and floated around her. Her head was far enough in the water now to cover her ears and block out the sound of the birdsong. She closed her eyes.
For dream-like minutes, there was just her, with the water and the sun different kinds of warm against her skin.
And then there was something else, something fearful.
Larna could sense it closing in on her, surrounding her, watching her, and the water was freezing cold, cramping her limbs, making her gasp for air, locking her muscles. Her eyes were open, but she couldn’t move. She was sinking, she wasn’t going to drown, but the sky hanging over her was blood-red. The garden had grown dark, and was darkening further. The trees and grass were trembling in the breeze.
The water had become gelid, a pane of glass was forming between her and the air.
Her ears were immersed, this was all happening silently.
Despite that, laughter surrounded her, mocking laughter that drowned out every other sound. Everything was at stake.
Everything.
There was urgent knocking, gloved fists against wood.
The sky had cooled to black iron, and Larna was staring down at her own body from it. She looked calm, and seemed to be shining because everything around her body was so dark. Her hair and eyes were golden, and if her teeth were ivory then her skin must have been pearl. Petal blossom blew over her from the garden, and into the black water. She was dead, she realised. There was a clean wound, just beneath her left breast.
Her death didn’t alarm her, why should it? This was just a dream, and everyone else was dead, too.
But it wasn’t a dream, and she was naked. There were few stars, but she could see herself, feel herself, freezing over.
As she watched, she began to unravel, strands of DNA and hair unfurling. And there was something peeling her away until there was nothing left. It didn’t hurt, but she was dead and so she couldn’t stop it, she couldn’t even move. Behind her, all around her, the garden was unravelling, too. The butterflies vanished like untying knots, the bench and grass dissolved into strands of cotton.
She screamed.
The Magistrate flung open the door, to find the Lady Larna tangled in the bed sheets. She was alone, screaming. Her waist-length hair was bedraggled. The Magistrate crossed the room in three paces, clamped one hand over her mouth, held her down with the other. She struggled, and she was strong, almost managing to throw him off the narrow bed, but finally she calmed down.
Finally, he withdrew the hand, let her sit upright.
Her eyes were wild, her chest was heaving, the pendant hanging from her neck was leaping about like a jumping bean. Despite that, she bowed her head. ‘Magistrate…’ she said reverentially.
‘Never mind that,’ he snapped.
Whether it was his tone of voice or the look on his face, she had regained her composure. ‘I had a nightmare,’ she told him. ‘I was unravelling, just coming apart.’
‘What have you done with the Doctor?’ he asked.
She stared around, aware of her surroundings for the first time. ‘Nothing,’ she said guiltily, far too quickly. ‘It isn’t what it looks like, we didn’t do –’
She pulled her cotton shift back into place, but still didn’t look comfortable. ‘He was here,’ she admitted. ‘I didn’t hear him leave.’
The Magistrate shifted around, ready to stand.
Larna grabbed his arm. ‘We have to get to an Infinity Chamber. I’d forgotten – we have to get to Chamber Epsilon.
I left a program running. I’ll explain when we get there.’
Something about her voice made him agree to the request without thinking.
His wrist communicator bleeped. The Magistrate pulled back his glove to