Part 15 (2/2)

'How old are you now, Wormhole?' asked Glospin. 'You realize it's six hundred and seventy-three years since we last met - to the day.'

'Ah, how quickly Otherstide comes round,' the Doctor mused. 'And I haven't brought you a present.'

'You were always old for your age.' Glospin's sneer turned into another laugh. 'Of course. Otherstide Otherstide. Your name day fell on Otherstide, didn't it? How could I forget that? You must be at least -'

'Mind your own business and four-quarters.'

'Well, felicitations, Cousin. And I haven't bought you a present either.'

'I've never made a fuss about anniversaries,' said the Doctor. 'How old are you?'

'One thousand seven hundred and eleven. Three Three generations.' generations.'

The Doctor was silent for a long moment. 'Careful living,' he said, but his voice was flat and downbeat.

' I I didn't have a choice,' Glospin said. 'You look pretty wel worn. I'd reckon you're on five or six generations at least. didn't have a choice,' Glospin said. 'You look pretty wel worn. I'd reckon you're on five or six generations at least.

You've been living too fast.'

'Chris,' hissed the Doctor. 'We're going.'

Chris hauled himself up and started back along the pa.s.sage.

'He's not going to let me out,' called Glospin. 'What a way to treat an older Cousin.'

'Let him go, Doctor,' said Chris firmly. 'Because if you won't, I will.'

The Doctor looked extremely hurt. For a moment he and Chris held each other's stare. Then he walked to the stove and began to pick at the latch. After a moment, he took off his shoe and hit the cross-bolt hard.

'Don't do that!' shouted Glospin. 'Stop it! Stop it! It's heating up!'

Chris saw a row of flames in the base of the stove. 'Doctor, get him out! He'l be roasted alive!'

'Say please, Glospin,' said the Doctor.

Inside the stove's oven, Glospin began to scream.

67.'Please?' repeated the Doctor.

'Doctor!' yel ed Chris. 'Please!'

The Doctor grabbed the rusty kettle off the top of the stove and emptied the brackish water over the flames.

There was a hiss of steam.

They could hear Glospin gasping inside.

The Doctor produced a metal instrument from his pocket and set it to the latch. There was a slight vum vum noise and the whole front of the stove swung open. Glospin shot out sideways as if he had been kicked. He landed on the tiled floor in a heap. Smoke drifted out of his clothes. noise and the whole front of the stove swung open. Glospin shot out sideways as if he had been kicked. He landed on the tiled floor in a heap. Smoke drifted out of his clothes.

'Osirian bottleopener,' said the Doctor coldly. 'Satisfied?'

'Thank you,' said Chris.

'Let's go.'

The stove slammed its oven door in frustration.

Chris ignored the Doctor and crouched by Glospin. In Earth terms, the Cousin now looked to be in his late thirties.

His once coa.r.s.e black hair was now brown and curling. It fell thickly to his shoulders, framing a handsome, but thin white face. A red-brown scar on one pale hand extended up his arm.

'He's hurt, Doctor,' Chris said.

Glospin pulled back his hand. 'That happened a long time ago.' He glared up accusingly at the Doctor. 'It's never healed properly.'

The Doctor ruminated for a moment. 'Bring him,' he said. He turned and walked away up the pa.s.sage. 'I want to be away from here before daybreak.'

'What daybreak?' said Glospin as he laboured to stand up. He looked after the Doctor and began to laugh out loud.

68.

Chapter Thirteen.

Black Window

Cousin Innocet was crossing the galleries above the Hall when she heard the voices. They were arguing pugnaciously. The House's great chamber had properties to enhance and amplify the quietest whisper, but Lungbarrow had so many echoes of its own, and thoughts that posed as echoes, that it was often difficult to identify the source. That was what had taught her to move silently in the House. A sudden movement in a quiet place could set off a host of echoes, scattering like a blue-brown flock of raucous blossom thieves startled from the orchards in spring.

The echoes came up from the direction of the old conservatory. As she pa.s.sed by one of the hearth-rooms, she heard another familiar voice.

'It's my turn,' it complained. 'If you don't let me have a go, I'll tell Innocet.'

Innocet, thus invoked, pushed open the door.

'Owis?' she said sharply. What are you doing?'

Owis looked up startled from his position by the huge fireplace. He tried to stuff some morsel into his pocket. 'I didn't do it,' he protested.

'Who's that with you?' she said.

A pair of feet were sticking out of the fireplace. She moved closer and saw that his filthy trousers were made of st.i.tched shrew skins.

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