‘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.’

‘Excellent. You can explain it to me on the way.’

The nursemaid in the entry hall of the infirmary was busy. Or at least, she gave a very good impersonation of someone who was busy. She tutted and sighed, and continued writing in her large book. ‘I really don’t have time for this,’ she complained. ‘You’ll just have to wait.’

‘Look, it’s very simple,’ said Philmon. ‘We just want to see our friend. We come in here quite often, and it’s never been a problem before. Can’t we just go up?’

‘You do know that I’m a magician, don’t you?’ Amelia said.

The nursemaid glanced up at her, a sneer on her lips. ‘I know who you are, and I know you used to be a magician. Or it was in fact an apprentice magician, wasn’t it? Otherwise…’ She finished the sentence by mouthing the words ‘Skulum Gate’.

‘Yes, that’s true,’ Amelia muttered. ‘But I still learnt some pretty good spells.’

‘Don’t threaten me,’ the nursemaid replied. ‘I’ll get to you when I’m good and ready.’ Then, almost as if to emphasise the point, she bit on her thumbnail while she took a moment to read back over what she’d just written. Finally, after she’d written no more than a couple of words to finish, she laid the pen down and looked at them. ‘Now, children, can I help you?’

‘We’d like to see our friend Torby,’ Philmon said.

The expression that crossed the nursemaid’s face sent a sudden shudder through Amelia, not quite as strong as the bad feeling that had sent her to Philmon to begin with, but still an unpleasant sensation that crawled across the back of her shoulders.

The nursemaid’s eyes narrowed, and her voicebox bobbed as she swallowed suddenly. ‘Torby, did you say?’

Philmon nodded, ‘Yes, Torby. You know, the boy who lies there with the blank face.’

‘Oh, I know who Torby is,’ the nursemaid replied. ‘But you want to see him?’

‘Yes please.’

‘Just to see if he’s all right,’ Amelia added.

‘I see. Could you give me just a moment?’ the nursemaid replied, standing up in such a hurry that she almost knocked her chair over. ‘Excuse… excuse me.’ And she left the room, her skirts swishing around as she bustled out and headed down the long, echoey corridor.

‘What do you think that was all about?’ Amelia asked Philmon.

He shook his head and shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

At the far end of the corridor, the nursemaid was talking to another, smaller woman, with a stern, officious face. Amelia recognised this second woman as the head of the place. She’d seen her around the infirmary, but they’d never spoken.

The conversation between the two women drew to an end, and the head of the infirmary nodded curtly, before striding officiously towards Amelia and Philmon.

‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this,’ Philmon said quietly.

‘Have you got it too?’ Amelia asked, her hand going to her stomach.

‘I don’t mean that kind of bad feeling. It’s not all magicky or anything. I just feel like she’s bringing bad news about Torby.’

Amelia’s mouth was dry as she said, ‘I think you might be right. I hope you’re wrong, but I do think you might be right.’

The head of the infirmary came into the room, with the nursemaid following a short but respectful distance behind. ‘Good morning. I’m Myla – I’m in charge here.’

‘We’ve seen you before,’ Amelia said.

‘Now, you’re looking for your friend?’

‘Yes, Torby. But we know where his bed is. There’s no need for all this fuss…’ Amelia began to say.

Myla gave a very quick, flickering smile, but her eyes remained very serious. ‘You might know where his bed is, but do you know where he is?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ asked Philmon.

‘He’s not here.’

‘So where is he?’ Amelia asked.

Myla shook her head. The flickering, humourless smile was back again for a moment. ‘He’s gone.’

‘Gone?’ Philmon said. ‘Gone where, exactly?’

‘We don’t know – he just disappeared,’ the nursemaid interjected. ‘Oh,’ she added quickly as Myla cast her a withering glare.

‘She’s right,’ Myla said. ‘He disappeared some time last evening.’

‘Wasn’t anyone watching him?’ Philmon asked, his face beginning to redden. ‘I mean, he doesn’t even move!’

‘We were otherwise occupied,’ Myla explained.

‘Yes. Things were falling down on the goat, you see,’ the nursemaid explained. ‘Plus there was the -’

‘Risha!’ Myla turned her head slightly to one side and cut the nursemaid off mid-sentence. ‘That will do. There are patients who need seeing to. Now,’ she added firmly as the nursemaid opened her mouth to argue.

She watched Risha leave, before returning her attention to Amelia and Philmon. ‘Last night, a wall fell down in the rear courtyard.’

Philmon frowned. ‘A wall?’

‘That’s right. Plop. Went right over.’

‘And what does that have to do with Torby?’

‘Or a goat?’ Amelia added.

‘This is a little embarrassing, but we – by that I mean me and the three other women who work here under very trying and difficult conditions, I might add – were out in the courtyard trying to put out the fire and free the goat.’

‘Free the goat?’ said Philmon, shaking his head slowly. ‘This is unbelievable! If it wasn’t so serious it’d be funny!’

‘I don’t understand,’ Amelia said. ‘So you were outside trying to free the goat from what? Did the wall fall on the goat?’

‘Yes, that’s what I’m trying to tell you,’ Myla said. ‘The goat was tied up to the lemon tree, right beside the wall. And then, somehow, the wall came down on the goat. It also flattened part of our kitchen, and started a small fire. The cook’s had to take the day off, he was so shaken by the incident.’

‘This is terrible,’ Amelia said.

‘Oh, it’s all right – the goat’s fine. Her milk might be a bit off for a couple of days, but that’s probably all. But as for our -’

‘We don’t care about the stupid goat!’ Philmon snapped, and Myla blinked in surprise. ‘What’s upsetting me is that while you and your staff were out the back pulling some farmyard animal out of a pile of rocks, our friend was being kidnapped!’

Myla cleared her throat. ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We don’t know that he’s been kidnapped -’

‘Well let’s see: is he in his bed? No. Is he sitting beside his bed? No. Is he anywhere in this building? I assume you’ve looked for him?’

‘Of course. And you’re quite right, he’s not here.’

Amelia thought Philmon’s head was going to burst with rage. ‘Look, if someone who hasn’t spoken or moved for almost a year suddenly leaves their bed and disappears, I’d say there’s a good chance that they’ve been kidnapped, wouldn’t you?’

›››Armla! Armla!

‘Ah!’ yelped Amelia, as a sudden pain ripped through the space behind her eyes. Her hands went to her forehead, but no matter how hard she pushed, the pain wouldn’t stop.

And there was the voice, like the sound of grinding teeth. ›››Armla! Armla! These is steel kelp!

‘Amelia, are you all right?’ Philmon asked, placing a steadying arm around her shoulders.