The Vorrh

cyclops and his possible adventures, watching the city slip past as they glided by at a handsome seven miles per hour. Large numbers of people milled about on the streets, and occasionally little groups would shout or scream out in some boisterous play. They came close to a curb where four young people tussled together in a noisy sport. Their appearance was odd and caught Ghertrude’s attention. As the car drew closer, the two young men grabbed the smaller girl with rather too much force, seeming oafish and common, although their clothing suggested taste and education. They held the young woman by the arms, pinning her forward so she could not turn. The fourth member of their spinning group, a powerful young woman, pointed at her trapped companion, laughing and peeling off her gloves. In the brief glimpse from the passing car, it was suddenly obvious that the younger girl was in terror; the men’s game had become earnest under the gaze of the other woman, who was obviously poised to attack. Ghertrude tugged Cyrena’s attention, and they craned their heads back toward the tableau in time to see the woman grab the other’s face, much in the same way that peasant women squeeze melons to test their ripeness. There was a horrible scream from the girl, who fell to her knees while the others happily fled.
    ‘Stop the car!’ cried Cyrena to her driver. ‘Rupert, go and see what has happened and if we can be of any help!’
    The chauffeur mumbled something and left the purring limousine, walking back towards the crowd of people, who now stood in a circle around the fallen girl. None had gone near or offered assistance. The chauffeur bent down to look at her and then stiffened and stepped back. The girl sobbed, ‘I can’t see, I can’t see!’
    He stared for a moment then looked away, walking back to the car with his eyes fixed firmly on the pavement.
    ‘Well?’ demanded Cyrena, leaning out of her open window. ‘What’s happened? What can we do?’
    The chauffeur spoke quietly without looking at them, his hand already opening the driver’s door. ‘It’s nothing ma’am, just horseplay got a bit out of hand. She’s just a bit ruffled, that all.’
    ‘Ruffled?’ repeated Cyrena incongruously. Her next question was staunched by the chauffeur, who quickly got in and closed his door, releasing the handbrake immediately and pulling away from the carnage. She looked back out of the car’s rear window, but both the crowd and the girl had gone. Bypassers already cut fleeing trajectories through the static where the circle of theatre had been. Rupert must have been right, it had been nothing but her inflamed imagination.
    ‘Go on,’ she said with a twitch of her dismissive hand.
    The car gathered speed, yet something nagged at her. The incident had curdled her day and left her with an ill-determined ache of responsibility. Ghertrude tried to lighten her friend’s obvious anxiety by changing the subject and pointing outside to more delightful features of their journey. Cyrena nodded, but her unconscious remained continuously aware of the small groups of people that sped past the corner of her eye.
    Ten minutes later, they arrived at the doctor’s house. The journey had frustrated Cyrena: her taciturn chauffeur still refused to meet her gaze; she wished she had learned to drive herself.
    They were immediately shown through the spacious house to the doctor’s consulting rooms, where he waited to greet them with warm handshakes and a beaming smile. They sat and drank tea, passing pleasantries until Cyrena decided to broach their need.
    ‘Dr. Hoffman, one hears that you are a good friend of the keeper of the Limboia.’
    ‘Yes, Mistress Lohr, that is true. We have worked together to oversee and tend to the workers’ health.’
    ‘Please, call me Cyrena, everybody does and my family have known yours for a good many years now,’ she said, casually adjusting her beauty for the old man’s appreciation.
    He smiled and said, ‘Cyrena! Why do you ask about Maclish?’
    ‘It is a delicate matter of great importance to me; to us,’ she said, looking at Ghertrude. ‘A dear friend of ours has gone into the Vorrh and we fear for his safety and wellbeing.’
    The doctor nodded, presenting his professional face of concern for their benefit.
    ‘It is said that you and the keeper should be consulted in all practical matters relating to the forest, that your knowledge and experience would prove invaluable.’
    The old man