opposite side of the road to the path to the temple and the Ship.
The leaves of a flowering bush - Vicki had no idea what sort it was - rippled slightly, as if the notes were gently caressing the foliage on their way past it. She stopped and hissed to the others. They turned.
‘What is it?’ Barbara asked, concern in her tone.
‘Do you hear that?’
‘What?’
‘It sounds like... singing.’
‘Singing?’ Barbara paused to listen. ‘No, I don-Just a minute... I think I do.’
‘It’s your imagination,’ Fei-Hung said quickly. ‘The sound of rain hitting leaves, or a bird sheltering from it.’ He shuffled slightly, putting the umbrella in front of the women as if it were a colourful fly in front of a fish.
‘No,’ Barbara said, ‘she’s right. There is a voice singing. It’s coming from over there.’ She ducked out from under the umbrella and went to the roadside. ‘Look, there’s a path.’
Barbara ignored the rain that was soaking through her jacket
- she felt only a tense urge to get back to Ian and see him stand again. But she knew that neither Vicki nor Fei-Hung would be feeling quite the same, and wondered whether it would really make a difference to Ian if they looked for shelter.
The Doctor had said he would be able to cure him, so it would be foolish to get Vicki or Fei-Hung ill for the sake of an hour or two while the rain passed over. If she had been alone she would have kept going, but she knew Ian would think of the others as well if he were here.
‘I think we should find some shelter,’ she said. ‘If that is someone singing, presumably they’re under cover.’
‘But... Oh, you’d never understand,’ Fei-Hung said.
Barbara thought she heard a tremble in his voice. ‘This is
yuelaan jit, the Festival of Hungry Ghosts. What real person would be out singing on a night like this?’
‘Gene Kelly, I suppose.’ Barbara sighed at Fei-Hung’s blank look, then tried not to laugh. ‘I don’t believe in ghosts and ghouls, and things that go bump in the night. If there is singing, then it must be a person.’
Fei-Hung opened his mouth to speak again, but Barbara had turned away and started up the path in the direction of the singing.
Vicki found the house first.
‘Barbara, Fei-Hung!’
They joined her, and she pointed to a low shape far back in the bushes. There was a clearing there, and a long roof.
‘Perhaps we can ask for shelter inside,’ Vicki said.
Barbara was in two minds, thinking back to another desperate night and seeking shelter in another lonely house.
One of her minds reminded her that circumstances were very different in those days, and that here there was no reason for fear. The other needled her, reminding her gleefully that there was no reason to be confident or comfortable either.
To spite it, she started towards the house. Behind her she heard Fei-Hung say to Vicki, ‘Can’t you reason with her?’
‘I happen to agree with her. You’re not afraid of spooks and spectres, are you? They’re just stories to frighten children.’
‘There could be bandits.’
‘Then you can fight them off.’
Barbara reached the clearing and the house. The building was all of one storey, with a wooden table and bench in front of it. Three steps led up to the door, and all the windows were covered with shutters made from wood carved into a pattern so delicate it was almost filigree. The dark tiles on the roof glistened with wetness, and the walls exuded a clammy feeling. A faint ripple of light passed across it, perhaps as the leaves on the surrounding trees fluttered in the moonlight.
Barbara tried to look in through the windows, but the shutters blocked most of the view and the house was filled with darkness. She tried knocking on the door, but there was no answer. She knocked again, and this time the door juddered open a couple of inches.
She stepped back, startled, ready to apologise when the occupants demanded to know why she was bursting
The leaves of a flowering bush - Vicki had no idea what sort it was - rippled slightly, as if the notes were gently caressing the foliage on their way past it. She stopped and hissed to the others. They turned.
‘What is it?’ Barbara asked, concern in her tone.
‘Do you hear that?’
‘What?’
‘It sounds like... singing.’
‘Singing?’ Barbara paused to listen. ‘No, I don-Just a minute... I think I do.’
‘It’s your imagination,’ Fei-Hung said quickly. ‘The sound of rain hitting leaves, or a bird sheltering from it.’ He shuffled slightly, putting the umbrella in front of the women as if it were a colourful fly in front of a fish.
‘No,’ Barbara said, ‘she’s right. There is a voice singing. It’s coming from over there.’ She ducked out from under the umbrella and went to the roadside. ‘Look, there’s a path.’
Barbara ignored the rain that was soaking through her jacket
- she felt only a tense urge to get back to Ian and see him stand again. But she knew that neither Vicki nor Fei-Hung would be feeling quite the same, and wondered whether it would really make a difference to Ian if they looked for shelter.
The Doctor had said he would be able to cure him, so it would be foolish to get Vicki or Fei-Hung ill for the sake of an hour or two while the rain passed over. If she had been alone she would have kept going, but she knew Ian would think of the others as well if he were here.
‘I think we should find some shelter,’ she said. ‘If that is someone singing, presumably they’re under cover.’
‘But... Oh, you’d never understand,’ Fei-Hung said.
Barbara thought she heard a tremble in his voice. ‘This is
yuelaan jit, the Festival of Hungry Ghosts. What real person would be out singing on a night like this?’
‘Gene Kelly, I suppose.’ Barbara sighed at Fei-Hung’s blank look, then tried not to laugh. ‘I don’t believe in ghosts and ghouls, and things that go bump in the night. If there is singing, then it must be a person.’
Fei-Hung opened his mouth to speak again, but Barbara had turned away and started up the path in the direction of the singing.
Vicki found the house first.
‘Barbara, Fei-Hung!’
They joined her, and she pointed to a low shape far back in the bushes. There was a clearing there, and a long roof.
‘Perhaps we can ask for shelter inside,’ Vicki said.
Barbara was in two minds, thinking back to another desperate night and seeking shelter in another lonely house.
One of her minds reminded her that circumstances were very different in those days, and that here there was no reason for fear. The other needled her, reminding her gleefully that there was no reason to be confident or comfortable either.
To spite it, she started towards the house. Behind her she heard Fei-Hung say to Vicki, ‘Can’t you reason with her?’
‘I happen to agree with her. You’re not afraid of spooks and spectres, are you? They’re just stories to frighten children.’
‘There could be bandits.’
‘Then you can fight them off.’
Barbara reached the clearing and the house. The building was all of one storey, with a wooden table and bench in front of it. Three steps led up to the door, and all the windows were covered with shutters made from wood carved into a pattern so delicate it was almost filigree. The dark tiles on the roof glistened with wetness, and the walls exuded a clammy feeling. A faint ripple of light passed across it, perhaps as the leaves on the surrounding trees fluttered in the moonlight.
Barbara tried to look in through the windows, but the shutters blocked most of the view and the house was filled with darkness. She tried knocking on the door, but there was no answer. She knocked again, and this time the door juddered open a couple of inches.
She stepped back, startled, ready to apologise when the occupants demanded to know why she was bursting
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