James Roy - The Gimlet Eye

Unless they were being sent into a trap… She pushed that thought away. Now was not the time to be panicking. It was certainly no time to be sending Danda into a panic, and judging by the look on her face, she wasn’t far away.

‘You’re doing well,’ Verris said, and Tab smiled at him, to thank him. He seemed very calm, which Tab found comforting. They’d been through a lot together, and she trusted him much more than anyone should ever trust a one-time pirate. She also knew that if at any point he should start looking concerned, that would be a perfect time to start panicking.

‘There’s some kind of light,’ Danda said from the railing, and Tab and Verris went to see. It was difficult to tell how far away the spot of light was, but it was definitely there, if a little blurry. And they were moving towards it.

‘Excuse me for a moment,’ Verris said, stepping over to the long sack in the corner. From it he drew a sword, long and curved. He snorted as he held it up. ‘That’s it? A Babdhir sabre? If I’d known that was what they were going to give me, I’d have brought my own. I collected a number of these back when we fought those maniacs, just as mementos. They do have a tendency to break, though.’

‘The sabres, or the Babdhir?’ Tab asked.

‘Both.’

‘Is there anything in that sack for the rest of us?’ Danda asked.

Verris looked at her levelly. ‘Ever used a sword, Danda?’

She shook her head.

‘Then I wouldn’t let you use one anyway. You’ll just cut yourself, or even worse, me. Everyone should do the job they’ve been sent here to do – I do the leading and any fighting that needs to be done, Tab does the magic, Danda does the interpreting and…’ He stopped, and Tab saw his eyes flicker towards Torby. ‘So,’ he ended, removing the sabre from its scabbard and swinging it about. It moved listlessly through the water.

‘Hey, that’s going to be pretty effective,’ Tab said. ‘Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.’

‘Old habits,’ Verris said, returning the sabre to its scabbard and dropping it on the deck with a muffled clang. ‘It’s probably better we don’t show up armed to the teeth anyway.’

The light was much closer now, and Tab could see that it came from a round door or window or some other opening of some kind, set into a huge dark orb, which was darker even than the blackness of the ocean depths beyond it.

‘I wish I could steer this thing,’ Tab said. ‘I’d turn us around and high-tail it out of here.’

‘Steady,’ Verris said as the pod neared the orb. It was looming now, enormous, and somehow in the cold light reflecting from the sides of the pod, she could see that its surface was smooth, like glass. And clean. Not a barnacle, not a scratch.

‘I think we’ve found the Yarka,’ Tab said. ‘Or at least, we’ve found where they live.’

They were no more than ten feet from the orb when the pod came to a complete stop. The opening was several feet across, and the glow coming from it, while bright, didn’t make Tab feel like squinting or blinking. It was as if the light, like everything else, was struggling to make its way through the heavy water.

‘So, what happens now?’ Danda said. The water muddied her voice, but it couldn’t disguise its waver.

‘Shh.’ Verris raised his hand and turned slowly on the spot, his long hair trailing behind and around him. ‘Now we wait.’

Even time was sluggish down here, and as Tab gazed into the light from the orb she found her mind drifting. It felt most peculiar. Here she was, below the surface of a strange ocean, breathing water like a fish, hovering in a rudderless vessel so far down into the depths that light was soaked up by the darkness. And the portal in the side of the glassy orb continued to glow, staring at her, while she stared back.

She was suddenly brought back by the sound of Danda’s voice. ‘Is this the only one?’ she said. ‘Is it just us and… this?’

Then, as if they were awakened by her question, other lights began to show. Their appearance was sudden, not like lighting a lamp or a candle, where the wick must catch, then build to a flickering warmth, but immediate. The same cold bluish light appeared in a spot to their right, then to their left, then below, above, everywhere, one after another. And as each light reached them through the water, the orb from which it came showed up as well, dark and alien. There were tens

… no, hundreds, perhaps even thousands of the dark structures, hovering in the water all around, each of them with its glowing round window pointed directly at them.

‘I think what you meant to say was “Is it just us and these?”,’ Verris said solemnly. ‘And yes, that’s exactly what it is – just us and… these.’

Amelia was feeling ill. Worrying could do that, and the person she was worrying about was Tab.

She hadn’t been concerned until she arrived at Nor’west City Farm to find that Tab wasn’t there. Bendo was, though, looking furious. ‘Where is that friend of yours?’ he demanded. ‘She’s in trouble, I tell you.’

Amelia shrugged. ‘I haven’t seen her all day,’ she replied. ‘I was hoping you might know where she was.’

‘Well I don’t,’ he snapped. ‘So if you do come across her, you should warn her that when I see her there’ll be hell to pay.’

‘I’ll be sure to let her know,’ Amelia replied.

Philmon was on a day off. She found him outside his quarters, sitting against a wall in the dim overcast daylight. He was reading a book, and seemed a little annoyed that Amelia would interrupt his day off to ask if he’d seen Tab.

He laid his book in his lap and sighed. ‘Amelia, what you’re forgetting is that I don’t keep an eye on every single movement Tab makes,’ he said. ‘You know what she’s like – she’s always off on one kind of adventure or another.’

‘I guess that’s what’s worrying me,’ Amelia said. ‘Most of the time when she gets into these adventures she’s got you or me to look after her.’

‘I don’t think she needs all that much looking after,’ Philmon said. ‘Most of the time it’s her looking after us. You know, I think she’ll probably turn up at any moment with a cheeky grin on her face.’

Amelia tried to smile. ‘You’re right, Philmon. I should stop worrying.’

Philmon picked up his book again, and Amelia turned to leave. Then she stopped and faced him again.

‘Can I ask you something?’

Philmon returned his book to his lap and looked up. ‘What is it?’

‘How long since you’ve seen Torby?’

‘I don’t know – a few days. Why?’

‘I just got a feeling that I should check on him.’

Philmon scratched his ear. ‘A feeling?’

‘Yes. It wasn’t a big feeling, more just a… a thought, I guess.’

‘About Torby?’

‘Yes. Do you think that’s weird?’

Philmon shook his head. ‘I think about people all the time, but it doesn’t make me wonder if it’s weird.’

‘I know that. I just… It’s a very icky feeling, Philmon, right here.’ She rested her hand on her stomach.

‘You’ve probably eaten a bad thickleberry tart.’

‘We both know there’s no such thing as a bad thickleberry tart. No, it’s strange, I know, but I really feel that I need to go and see him. Will you come with me?’

Philmon sighed and closed his book. ‘It doesn’t look like I’m going to get this finished today.’

‘What’s it about?’ Amelia asked.

‘It’s a retelling of The Gimlet Eye. It’s not the full-length version, though. It’s one of those condensed book thingies. But I thought I should read it before we go to see the play. It’s not a bad yarn, actually.’