James Roy - The Gimlet Eye

Freya frowned. ‘Eggs?’ she asked Bendo.

‘Yes, eggs.’

‘From the shickins?’

‘Yes, from the shickins!’ he replied impatiently. ‘So many questions, so little work!’

‘But aren’t they roosters, those ones?’ said Freya.

Slowly Bendo turned his eyes towards Tab, who was trying to keep her growing grin under control. ‘Roosters?’

Tab nodded.

‘All of them?’

She nodded again.

‘You knew this?’

‘I suspected,’ she said.

‘And you didn’t think to tell me?’

‘You seemed so… happy together, with the singing, and the patting …’

‘Goats!’ Bendo shouted, his hands shaking, his face flushed. ‘See to the goats, you revolting child! Both of you, before I lose my temper! And tie them up properly this time!’

As they scuttled away to see to the animals, Freya glanced up from under her eyebrows at Tab. ‘ Singing to them? That’s what you told him?’

Tab chuckled. ‘Everyone needs a hobby. Mine is Bendo.’

Tucked up safely in her little sleeping-stall, Tab squeezed her eyes tightly closed and entered the mind of Rat.›››Thank you

A moment later she saw the triangle of brightness, and then stronger light as Rat poked its nose out. Stelka was standing at the far side of her cell, holding the bars and looking out into the corridor.

As she usually did, Tab made the rat squeal, and at the shrill sound, Stelka turned around. ‘Tab?’ she asked, wiping her eyes.

With a gentle mental prod, Tab caused the rat to squeal again.

Over her shoulder, Stelka glanced further into the dark of the dungeon, before squatting down. Through Rat’s eyes, Tab saw her bring her face closer. For a moment it felt as if the rat was flinching away and peparing to run.›››Steady

Stelka closed her eyes then, and a moment later Tab felt her consciousness edging in alongside hers in the mind of Rat.›››Is Tab?

›››Yes it is››I have to tell you something, Stelka. I followed Fontagu, like you suggested

›››What did happen?

›››He agreed to do a play. He’s doing The Gimlet Eye

›››Very good story that one good choice

›››They took it away from him. They took his script

›››Who?

›››Do you know someone called Kalip Rendana?

She felt Stelka hesitate, but it wasn’t a hesitation that came of fear or uncertainty. It seemed to come of nothing more than Stelka thinking, turning the name over and over in her mind. Finally she had an answer.›››I not know Kalip Rendana

›››He works for Janus, who works for Florian

A shudder brushed past Tab’s awareness.›››He is bad man

›››Well yes, of course he is. We all hate Florian

Somehow, through her next thought, Tab could feel Stelka’s sudden flare of indignation.›››Not Florian. Janus is bad man

›››He only works for Florian

›››Janus only works for Janus

›››What should I do now?››They took Fontagu’s play

›››Do nothing››Wait and watch. You are magician

›››What’s that got to do with it?

›››Magician knows when to act. Go now. Not mind-talk too much for now

›››Are you all right?

›››Go now. Talk later. And be careful, friend Tab

Tab felt Stelka’s mind tear away like a piece of damp paper, and then she was alone in the mind of Rat.›››Thank you again, little friend

Tab pulled away, and opened her eyes to see the inside of her little bed-stall. She lay back and listened to Freya humming quietly to herself in the next stall. Do nothing, Stelka had said. The former Chief Magician had never tried to hide her dislike of Fontagu, and had often tried to warn Tab that getting too close to him could lead to trouble. So was she now encouraging Tab to sit back and let Fontagu’s nature lead him into the trouble that never seemed that far away?

Tab pursed her lips. How could she double-guess Stelka, who had nothing to gain from standing by and watching Fontagu destroy himself ? She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Tab had very few options anyway, so she would do exactly what Stelka had suggested. Nothing could be achieved by marching into the palace and demanding answers. So she would do nothing, apart from waiting, and watching.

With these thoughts in her mind, and with the vortex-bells ringing high in the rigging, Tab pulled her blanket over herself and picked up her book.

A short time later, without too much fuss, the journey through the vortex had come and gone. It all happened fairly quickly, and was barely even violent enough to make her stop reading. Sometimes going through a vortex led to buildings and walls falling down, and occasionally animals and even people being injured, sometimes even bits of the rigging came down in the streets. A few weeks before an entire spar, as thick as a market lane was wide, had crashed down in the Thieves’ Quarter. Even though many joked that a piece of timber that size was the only thing that could have landed in that part of the city without fear of being stolen, the truth was that a couple of dozen people had been crushed to death. It was almost as if it was a reminder that vortexes weren’t a trivial matter. What was certain was that they were now a regular part of life in Quentaris.

But this one had been relatively gentle, little more than a rumble coming through Tab’s mattress, a couple of minutes of darkness, one or two bricks falling from a wall somewhere nearby, and a sudden pallid brightness which made Tab think of watered-down lightning. It was a relief. A gentler vortex meant less of a clean-up around the farm.

In the street that ran along the other side of the stable wall, Tab could hear excited voices and hurried footsteps. This was as much a part of travelling through a vortex as mixing up mortar for repairing walls. Nor’city Farm was quite close to the edge of the city, and every time Quentaris was taken through into another world, most Quentarans rushed to the edge to look down and see what kind of place they’d been taken to this time.

Quite frankly, Tab couldn’t be bothered. She was tired. Besides, she’d find out the next day, when everyone was talking about the colour of the land, whether it was mountainous or flat, dry or lush, populated or deserted. She’d find out, she’d be interested for a moment, and then she’d go back to not caring that much either way.

So for now, unless Bendo barged into her stall and insisted that she clean up some mess or another, she was going to stay right where she was, and she was going to sleep.

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…’