'Out! Out! Out!'

The drums were pounding in his ears. Web was tangling him, choking him. He could not reach the escape route. A well gaped in front of him like a mouth.

He fell into the dark.

112.

Chapter Nineteen.

Doctor on Call

Chris choked at the stench under his nose.

'I'm sorry I ever ran away!' he gasped and clutched Innocet's arm. His head swam and finally settled. He was sitting on the floor, his back propped against a wall under the portrait.

Innocet showed him a little green bottle. 'Attar of asafoetida,' she said. 'Most effective.' Her brown bonnet and the huge, coiled mound of hair under her cloak reminded him of Terrapin-Maiden in the FreakWarrior FreakWarrior Vidmags he'd watched as a kid. Vidmags he'd watched as a kid.

'I wouldn't argue with that,' he said. His head was suddenly crystal clear, but so were the grumbles and creaks of the restless House. 'I wish this place would shut up.'

'Your arrival was enough to set off al the bad echoes in the place.'

Chris closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 'What sort of echoes?'

'Old thoughts, bad memories.'

'Dreams?'

'That's one word for them,' she said firmly. 'Some echoes bang around inside the walls for ever. They get magnified and exaggerated.'

'Maybe.' Chris studied the floor. 'I've had a lot of bad dreams lately. But it's got worse here. I don't even have to be asleep. They don't even feel like my my dreams. I've tried talking to the Doctor, but he's either too preoccupied or he doesn't want to know.' dreams. I've tried talking to the Doctor, but he's either too preoccupied or he doesn't want to know.'

'It's odd,' she agreed. 'If anyone was a target for the echoes here, I would have said it was him.'

And they're his his dreams, thought Chris. I know they are. 'How does he do it? How does he carry on regardless?' dreams, thought Chris. I know they are. 'How does he do it? How does he carry on regardless?'

'He always has done,' she said.

He hauled himself unsteadily to his feet and looked again at the Family portrait. 'The old guy here. Was that real y the Doctor?'

She nodded. 'In his first life, yes. Housekeeper Satthralope forbade his name in the House when he was disinherited.'

'G.o.ddess, that was cruel,' said Chris.

'He was more than able to fight back. That's why they hated him so much.' Innocet ran a finger along the base of the picture frame, studied the dust for a moment and dabbed it into her mouth. 'Where did you meet him?'

Chris blethered. 'Oh, a long way ago. A long time from here.' h.e.l.l, he thought. Past or future? What do I tell his own Family? 'He's a good friend,' he said and scanned the ancient room with its worn and oversized furniture.

'How old is this House?'

She seemed surprised. 'As old as any. Don't you come from one of the Houses?'

There was that piercing look again as if she was trying to read the pages of his mind, but had the book upside down. 'Um ... not a home like this,' he said, awkwardly breaking her stare.

113.

She walked into the centre of the room. 'There's so much we will have to learn when we get out. They say the Houses are the oldest living things in the world. The first ones were grown during the Intuitive Revelation. They certainly feel as if they've been here forever.'

'I don't believe he killed Quences,' Chris affirmed. 'Or Arkhew for that matter.'

She nodded her eyes towards a mirror at the far end of the room. 'My goodness!' She affected a laugh. 'What a lot Quences will have to talk about when he wakes up!'

Chris turned his back to the mirror and muttered, 'Who are you hiding this from? You can't hide it forever.'

'We could until now.' Her voice had darkened again. 'I can't vouch for the Doctor's safety. Not even from myself.

Not if he interferes.'

'It's a bit late for that.'

She pulled in close to him. 'Have you been with him ever since you arrived?'

'Yes,' he said emphatically.

d.a.m.n, he thought. He left me on my own twice. Once in the attic and once in the funguretum. Either time he could have met Arkhew and.... d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n!

'Listen, listen,' muttered Satthralope.

Glospin watched the old woman as she rocked slowly in her chair. 'You didn't say anything about Arkhew,' he said.

'It can wait.' She was turning the keys on their giant ring. One after another in a slow, steady rhythm.

They clicked on the wooden ring on her finger. 'Listen. Are you listening? You've been asleep.'

'What are you doing?' he said, although he already knew.

' It It must be told,' she crooned. She was staring straight into the mirror. Rocking. must be told,' she crooned. She was staring straight into the mirror. Rocking.

'Not yet.' He moved angrily towards her, but the Drudge blocked his path. 'No, not yet. Don't wake the House.'

She clinked another key round. Her voice was gentle, almost caressing. 'You must stay, Glospin. I'll need you. It may not listen.'

He turned to the Drudge. 'You stay. I'm not involved.'

As he ran for the door, he heard another key clink round.

The walls shuddered.

'I heard you were back, Wormhole,' said Rynde.

He had waylaid the Doctor on a gallery above the Hal . The attendant Drudge reached for the Doctor's arm.

'I'm a guest,' the Doctor said. 'I'll talk to whom I like.'

'You won't like me,' Rynde said. 'But then you never did.' He walked slowly round the Doctor, admiring the little man's extraordinarily clean apparel. He tugged at the decorated scarf.

'That's mine, thank you.' The Doctor slapped his hand away.

'What else have you brought?'

114.

'Nothing for the likes of you!' The Doctor shot a glance up at the Drudge. 'Oh, dear. You've all been put to a lot of inconvenience and you've had a lot of time to ruminate on the injustice. I'm. . . sorry.'

Rynde grabbed him by the col ar. 'You will be.'

'I'm sorry I didn't come earlier, um ... Cousin Rynde, isn't it? I had plans.'

'So did we al ! I was Epicural Overseer to the Dromeian Chapterhouse.'

'Ah,' choked the Doctor, 'head waiter.'

'I was renowned for my skills at a.s.sembling banquets from the rarest provisions. Now all I eat is fungi and these.'

He held up a couple of braces of scrawny tafelshrews. 'There's only a limited number of ways you can cook them.

So I'd relish a change of menu.'

The Doctor looked uncomfortable. 'Where have all the others gone?'

'Away,' said Rynde.

The walls and floor shuddered. The Drudge raised its head as furniture along the gallery shuffled uncomfortably.

A sharp cry of pain came from an alcove.

'Who's your friend?' said the Doctor.

'Out you come, Owis,' Rynde called. He waited while his podgy Cousin sidled nervously into view.

'It bit me,' he said. 'The chair bit me.'

'Listen to me. We must wait.'

Satthralope clung to her chair. Now that was rocking too. The mirrors trembled in their frames.

'You must wait. Now he's here, al this can be finished. We can wake Quences when we are ready. But stay calm.

We must be calm.'

She felt the mood of the House tighten on her thoughts. She had been too quick. It was startled awake after a long, disturbed sleep. It dreamt the echoes that rattled along its cloisters and corridors.

'There, there. It'll soon be over. Stay calm. Stay calm. Nothing to worry about.'

The door slowly opened itself.

Across the entrance lay a shape. Half out of a sack, propped against the door frame. Its head lolled to one side.

Eyes cold and staring. The twisted body of Cousin Arkhew.

Satthralope stared in disbelief. One of the mirrors turned on its hinges, straining to see.

'Nothing to look at!' the Housekeeper gasped.

The mirror cracked across.

Owis gawped at the Doctor. 'Who is he?' he complained. 'What's going on? Why won't anyone tel me?'

'Ask him yourself,' said Rynde.

115.

The Doctor was peering out of the gallery, up into the roof of the Hall. Something was hanging there, bulky, caught in the swags of web. He slid a catapult out of his pocket, noticed the Drudge and put it back again.

'Well,' said Owis, 'who are you, then?'

'Doctor!' shouted someone.

'Correct,' the Doctor said.

There were two figures on the gallery across the well of the Hal . Innocet and the young stranger. They started to move round.

A deep rumble began in the depths of the House. The furniture on the gallery started to edge out of its places.

Chairs, tables, al stalking slowly towards the Doctor.

Rynde pulled Owis clear.

The Drudge lunged at the Doctor. He stepped neatly to the side and reached into his jacket. Out of the flimsy garment, he drew an impossibly large umbrella. It opened over him like a huge coloured mushroom, hiding him from view. The Drudge knocked the object aside, but the Doctor had vanished.