Episode 1: Trials of Change
"It's almost cruel, these rites of passage. I understand the necessity, but I don't think it should happen so early on. Only eight years old and we're exposing them to something as unparalleled as the Untempered Schism.
Just a look at the Vortex is all it takes. These children run away in fear, fall into depression, or even go mad. There's not much I can do as an escort for those children selected. Rare are the instances where someone deviates from the aforementioned responses.
And yet there is one instance that stands out in my mind above all others. This average-looking, blonde-haired and blue-eyed child is brought in on the day of his eighth birthday. I escort him to the Schism, and he actually tries to walk into it. I was so used to these children either standing still or running away that I almost didn't restrain him.
A hand on his shoulder was all it took, but then he- and I swear this is true- he just sat down. Sat there with the most unusual expression of wonder and fascination that I've yet to see in any other instance. After several minutes, I had to escort him out. He followed without complaint, and that was that. He had passed.
But I'll never forget that shimmer in his eyes when he looked at me. The slightest glance when I had to tell him he had to leave, and I swear his eyes shined. I never found out what his name was. All I know is that he will do great things one day."
- Journal Entry, Anonymous
Deep within the forests of Massachusetts, the calm of nature was only disturbed by the slow moan of the wind through the branches. The slight chill of autumn had begun to petrify the wood, the trees brown, red, and yellow with their changing leaves. The sun's rays peeked through the canopy overhead, tinging the surroundings with touches of warmth that fell upon the leaf-covered earth. No animal made a sound and no creature stirred in the stillness of early morning.
From nowhere, a sound began to unsettle the silence of the wood. First, a high pitched and echoing whistle pulsed through the air in gradually louder intervals; this was followed by a deep, airy grinding sound. Soon, gusts of wind emanating from a small, sun-filled clearing sent stray leaves spiraling through the air. A vague blue image pulsed and faded in and out of existence, becoming more and more definite and detailed with each rev of the churning sound. Finally, with a harrowing thud, a blue police public call box stood firmly in the center of the clearing. Silence regained its hold only briefly as voices began to become audible from within.
"… forget to bring your coat, it's going to be rather chill out there during this time of the year."
"How cold?"
"Well, see for yourself!"
The door to the police box swung open, and out poked the head of a young redheaded woman. She stood a little over five feet tall, wearing a leather jacket over a T-shirt and jeans. She gripped the doorway with fingers tipped with black nail polish, and a smile crossed her face as her blue-green eyes scanned over the forest surrounding them.
She suddenly stumbled out of the police box, nearly falling to the ground as a tall, blonde-haired and blue eyed man stepped backward out of the same doorway. His tan trench coat wafted slightly as he spun round and stepped outside. He stifled a chuckle as the woman leered at him, and tightened his shining blue tie around his neck after shutting the police box door behind him.
"Oh, come on, you looked like you needed a little push anyway," he said.
The woman didn't respond, only leering even more intensely and crossing her arms.
"Fine, fine," the man said with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Penny."
Penny smiled and her mood became chipper almost immediately.
"But you were blocking my path," the man said with a hint of sarcasm.
"I was going to step out eventually, Seeker!"
"Eventually was too slow. Had to speed things up a bit."
"This coming from the guy who is laid back about almost everything."
"Not when there's something exciting to be seen!" the man called The Seeker said as the pair proceeded through the woods. "And especially not when it's an event in human history as impactful as this!"
"I've only ever seen plays or dramatic renditions of this," Penny said with rising excitement. "But… are you sure the village is this way?"
"Oh, let me double check," The Seeker said, producing a small metallic wand from within his coat. With a click, the top of the neck extended and lit up with a strong golden-yellow glow, emitting a fluctuating sound that was somewhere between a hum and a buzz.
"Does your sonic screwdriver have an internal GPS or something?"
"Internal- what? No! But it can scan for the closest human life forms in the area, which will in turn lead us to the town."
He waved the sonic screwdriver around him until the sound's pitch rose. He hurried in the direction indicated, ducking and weaving under low hanging branches with Penny hot on his heels.
"Um… I think… the village… is…"
A sharp metallic click caused both of them to freeze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a bearded man dressed in colonial puritan attire and holding a loaded musket straight at their faces. Sharp blue eyes leered out beneath a wide-brimmed felt hat.
"Who are you?"
"Oh… well… we're travelers, obviously!"
"No ships have arrived in port today, and you don't have any luggage. What's more… port isn't in the direction you're coming from."
He braced the musket firmly against his shoulder.
"Seeker, you forgot the disguises again!" Penny hissed through her teeth, taking cover behind her blonde-haired companion.
"Hey, you were just as excited as I was! We both forgot!"
"That's enough talk!" the man with the rifle nearly shouted, shifting nervously as he kept his gun trained. "I'll ask only once more: who are you?"
"Okay, just calm down, sir," The Seeker said, raising his hands. "I'm going to reach into my pocket. Inside is some identification I'd like to show you."
While he slowly reached into his jacket, a young boy – seemingly around the age of twelve – appeared from behind the man with the rifle.
"Father! Look!" he exclaimed, pointing to The Seeker's hand.
The man's eyes fell upon the sonic screwdriver. His rifle immediately began to shake as his hands trembled.
"A wand!" he gasped. "He's a sorcerer!"
"Oh, no…"
"That's it!" the man said, panic stricken. "Y-you two are coming with me! We'll see what Judge Stoughton thinks of this!"
"Who?"
"William Stoughton," Penny said in a hushed voice. "He was the chief justice in charge of the trials."
"Just the person we'll need to get out of this! You have caught us!" The Seeker said, bowing low. "We submit that we are, at this moment, your captives. To ensure that we do not escape easily, be sure to apprehend our source of power!"
With that, he presented his sonic screwdriver. The man and his son exchanged glances, but neither of them dared to touch the shimmering tool in The Seeker's hand.
"S-so long as you do not use any sort of dark magic or fiendish tricks against us, you will not be harmed and receive fair trial," the man stammered.
"Of course!" The Seeker exclaimed once more, depositing his screwdriver into his coat pocket. "Please proceed, then, mister…?"
"Abraham," the man said. "And this is my son, Isaac."
"Well, then, Abraham," The Seeker said, "Please lead on."
With one last perplexed look, Abraham motioned for The Seeker and Penny to follow Isaac, keeping his gun trained as he followed behind them.
"Seeker, are you sure about this?" Penny whispered. "When you said you'd take me to see the Salem Witch Trials, I didn't imagine being a participant!"
"Not to worry," The Seeker said. "I've got this under control. We'll be free in no time and you'll be able to see the workings of the trials firsthand."
After walking a couple miles through the woods, Isaac and Abraham led The Seeker and Penny to the small town of Salem. A minute collection of citizens roamed the streets, many of them casting surprised and even fearful glances over the two unusual strangers who were being escorted into their midst. Hushed whispers could be heard all around them as they passed, and the glances soon became perplexed stares.
Coming upon a rather large estate, Isaac proceeded to the front door of a two-story brick and lumber house. He rapped on the front door, firm taps reverberating through the air. A middle-aged man, clean shaven, dark haired, and dressed in highly formal seventeenth century attire, answered the door.
"Mr. Stoughton," Abraham called from behind The Seeker and Penny, "I've apprehended these two suspicious individuals wandering out in the forest. They claim to be travelers, but the man possesses a wand of some kind. I suspect he is a sorcerer or a witch of some sort, sent here to cause further disruption."
"Bring them inside," William said. "There's enough hysteria coursing through this town as it is."
Everyone stepped into William Stoughton's home, gathering in the main living area.
"Oh, my!" The Seeker exclaimed. "Lovely place. Very traditional. Conventional design with dabs of intricacy. Is that mahog-"
The Seeker fell silent as he turned round to see William, Abraham and Isaac all staring him down. Penny stood rigid at The Seeker's side, not willing to break the silence.
"Sir," William began, "Abraham has accused you of being a sorcerer and using witchcraft. Is this true?"
"Actually, Will- may I call you Will?"
"Judge Stoughton, if you don't mind."
"Well, then, Will," The Seeker continued, "I just want to ask Abraham something if that's okay."
"By all means."
"Abraham, did you actually see me do anything? Cast any sort of spell or recite any sort of incantation?"
With eyebrows raised, William looked toward Abraham, who fumbled for words for a few moments before shaking his head.
"And you assumed that this device," The Seeker said, producing his sonic screwdriver from his pocket, "is a wand."
The sight of the screwdriver caused the other three men in the room to become uneasy.
"I can assure you gentlemen that this is no more than a master key. A lovely little device that can open any lock or hatch in mere moments. My companion can attest to this fact."
"It's true," Penny said. "He can even show you. Is there a lock somewhere we can use?"
Isaac stepped forward, removing a pendant from around his neck.
"This locket's latch won't open," he said. "I've tried everything. It's not broken, but it won't open either."
Penny took the locket, holding it in her hand while The Seeker trained his sonic screwdriver towards it. Pressing the button, the screwdriver seemed to do nothing. Were it not for the click of the locket's latch, it would have seemed to have been useless.
"There you go! All unlocked, no harm done."
Penny returned Isaac's locket, and the three men studied it closely. While they did, Penny turned back to The Seeker.
"How did you do that without it… buzzing?"
"What? I just turned it up to a frequency above that of human hearing. Plus it doesn't have to light up. It uses sound, after all. Come to think of it, I'm not sure why there's even a light at the end of these things at all."
Giving mutual shrugs, the two of them turned back to their captors, who were satisfied that the locket had been cleanly opened.
"Now answer me this," William proceeded. "Why… are you two wearing such unusual clothing? The lady's attire is… frankly, quite slanderous."
Penny mouthed the word 'slanderous' with a furrowed brow, turning away slightly and crossing her arms.
"Oh… yes, please forgive her for that," The Seeker said. "We're not from these parts originally, and where we come from this sort of attire is acceptable."
William and Abraham exchanged glances.
"As for myself, it's somewhat of a staple for men in my profession. Oh, here…" he continued, reaching into his coat pocket and producing a small wallet. "If you're still suspicious of our origins, I think this should suffice to set any misleading impressions aside."
William took the wallet, flipping it open and reading the contents inside. Abraham and Isaac peeked around him to get a look as well.
"A locksmith, hmm?" William said, handing the wallet back to The Seeker.
"The best in the business!"
"Your license did not give a name. What do we call the two of you?"
"Oh, how could I forget? I'm The Seeker, and this is my companion, Penny."
Penny gave a slightly sarcastic curtsy, but still kept her arms crossed as she did so.
"And what brings the two of you to Salem?"
"Well, word had reached us that you've got a little bit of a problem with witches."
Once again, the other three men showed signs of unease.
"My thoughts were confirmed," The Seeker continued, "when Abraham jumped the gun on the nature of my profession. As such, I'm guessing a little extra security wouldn't be a bad thing to consider in these trying times, and so I figured I'd bring my business here."
"Perhaps some reinforcement in security would help to calm this hysteria…" William said. "Very well. On behalf of the town of Salem, I welcome the two of you. Abraham, would you be so kind as to escort these two to the town's nearest inn?"
Abraham gave a nod, motioning for The Seeker and Penny to follow him once more. On their way out, Penny paused before William.
"Mr. Stoughton," she said, "The Seeker and I haven't gotten much word as to the state of the town. Have any witches been found?"
"There have been… several sentences carried out," he replied. "There's another trial taking place this evening."
Later that day, a congregation of the townspeople began to collect in the town hall. The Seeker and Penny followed the crowd, Penny now dressed in more conspicuous attire than earlier.
"Dresses… I don't like dresses. I'd much rather be wearing my jeans," Penny said.
"At least the innkeeper's wife was kind enough to lend them to you. I know it's uncomfortable and not your style, but you do look nice," The Seeker said with an encouraging smile.
"Well, thanks," Penny said, smiling back. "But why do I have to change while you get to keep your original clothes?"
"A result of the times, I suppose. Besides, can you honestly picture me wearing what these men wear? Yeah, right."
"That's not fair."
"I know."
Stepping into the hall, the room was already rather packed. Standing towards the back wall, The Seeker and Penny glanced about the room. A number of people continued to glance suspiciously toward them, more from the fact that they were strangers in a rather closed community.
"Here comes our friend, Judge Stoughton," Penny whispered.
Toward the front of the hall, three men sporting powdered wigs took seats at the very front of the hall. The rest of the congregation settled, awaiting the beginning of the hearing.
"Bring in the accused," William commanded.
From a darkened hallway, the sound of heavy footsteps and the rattling of iron shackles echoed through the town hall. Escorted by two men, a middle-aged woman in tattered clothing was led across the front of the hall in front of the entire congregation. Hushed whispers rose from the townspeople as she came to a halt, standing at the center of the room before the judge's table.
"Martha Corey," William continued, "you have been accused of the crime of witchcraft and consorting with the Devil. How now do you plead?"
"I am innocent of these accusations, as I have told you numerous times," Martha stated firmly.
"Liar!" a loud cry rang out from within the crowd. A young girl towards the front of the hall stood up from her seat, pointing an accusing finger at Martha. "Her likeness has tormented me day and night! Tortured me! Prodded me! Left marks on my flesh!"
"That has to be Abigail Williams," Penny whispered. "Poor girl must have been swayed in the hysteria to accuse all those innocent people."
"You remember our agreement?" The Seeker replied. "We cannot interfere with-"
"The course of events, I know."
"Especially one with such an impact on the history of America as this."
"Can we get closer?" Penny asked, craning to see the proceedings.
"Why? You can see fine from here, can't you? Besides, why would you want to get closer to something as prejudiced as these trials?"
"Call it morbid curiosity," Penny said, shifting anxiously. "Please?"
The Seeker glanced about hesitantly.
"Oh, alright," he sighed. "But don't interfere."
He followed Penny as they worked their way around the outer wall of the room, made easy with Abigail continuing her bewailment of Martha's supposed crimes of sorcery. They managed to find a spot on the wall towards the left side of the hall, where they could see down the front row of pews and make out the features of the trial's participants in greater clarity.
"I saw her!" Abigail continued to wail. "Like her, but with eyes like a demon! Like the Devil!"
"She's really putting on a show," Penny whispered, gazing towards Abigail with amazement. "It's like she really believes what she's saying. I don't think I'd know anyone who could lie like that. Do you, Seeker?"
Glancing up at her friend, she was surprised to see him staring with an uncharacteristically serious demeanor at Abigail as she continued to rant.
"That's because she's not lying," The Seeker said with a tone that was all too apprehensive.
"What?"
Abigail, finding that words had begun to fail her, fell silent but appeared very emotionally distraught. Martha looked on with a face filled with stern grief but also displayed clear innocence towards her accuser's claims.
"Given the evidence we have already gathered," William said, "has the jury reached a verdict?"
"Your honor, we find Martha Corey guilty of the crime of witchcraft."
Murmurs swarmed through the congregation, many of them shocked.
"Martha Corey, you are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. This court is now adjourned."
The murmurs became more fervent as people stood from their seats, watching as Martha Corey was led away. Abigail Williams watched her go, a clear feeling of fear showing in her eyes.
"Something's not right," The Seeker said. "Come on."
Penny followed The Seeker out of the hall, eventually moving away from the rest of the crowd.
"What is it? What did you mean when you say 'she's not lying'?"
"Exactly that. I've dealt with many liars in my time, and I know a ploy when I see one. Especially one as obvious as this! But that girl in there was telling the truth. She saw something."
"You're telling me that ghosts and specters are real?"
"No, of course not. But something is causing havoc here. And innocent people are paying the price for it."
"Does that mean… we get to interfere?"
"You sounded a little too excited when you said that."
"We're going to change history!" Penny exclaimed. "How could I not be excited?"
"We need to be delicate about this. Too much interference could drastically warp the future course of events."
"Right, so where do we start?"
"Where do you start off any investigation?" The Seeker said, walking briskly into the town. "Interview the witnesses!"
The next morning, Penny and The Seeker found their way to the home of Reverend Samuel Parris, where his niece Abigail was staying. They sat in the main floor of their modest cottage home around a small wooden table, Penny seated next to Abigail and The Seeker sitting across from her. Reverend Parris paced the floor, keeping his eyes on these two strangers.
"What do you want with me?" Abigail asked, looking from Penny to The Seeker and back.
"We're just trying to understand what's happening," Penny said. "We're not from around here, but so long as we're staying we'd like to know what's going on."
"Abby… may I call you Abby?" The Seeker asked.
Abigail nodded.
"Last night you said that the woman named Martha was tormenting you?"
"No, sir," Abigail said, fear creeping into her voice. "Not her. Her specter."
"This specter. It looked exactly like Martha?"
Abigail shook her head.
"What was different?"
"Her eyes," Abigail said, her voice beginning to tremble. "They weren't hers."
"What was different about them? Size, color, shape?"
"They were… red. Like blood."
"The entire eye? Or just parts of it?"
"What on earth does that have to do with anything?" Reverend Parris interrupted. "And what would a locksmith know of such matters?"
"No offense, Reverend, but in regards to keeping people safe, then who better to ask than a locksmith, hmm?"
Parris had no retort, somewhat dumbfounded by The Seeker's unusual logic.
"Trust me, Abby," Penny reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "The Seeker knows what he's talking about. Can you tell us more about the specter's eyes?"
Abigail nodded. "They were red in the… um…" She pointed towards her own eyes.
"The middle?" Penny asked.
Abigail shook her head.
"Around the center?"
She nodded.
"Red irises," The Seeker said, sitting back in his chair and tapping his chin in thought. "And what did it do after it disturbed you?"
"It flew out the window. When I went to shut the window, I saw it go into the forest. It was gone."
"Thank you, Abby. Penny, will you take her upstairs? I have some questions for Reverend Parris."
"Come on, Abby," Penny said with a smile. "You can show me the rest of your home."
A small smile glimmered on Abigail's face. Taking Penny by the hand, they headed upstairs, their footsteps echoing across the wood planks of the floor. When they were out of earshot, The Seeker stood and addressed Parris.
"Reverend… look, can I call you Sam? I hate being so uptight and formal."
"I prefer Reverend Parris-"
"Alright, Sam," The Seeker continued, walking around the table. "Can you tell me what Martha Corey is like? Before all of these trials began."
"Goody Corey? Oh, she's known throughout Salem as one of our most devoted churchgoers. I must admit I was taken aback when she was accused."
"Did she display any unusual behavior in the past few months?"
"Nothing worse than anyone else showed when this whole mess began. But I can't argue against the evidence presented by my niece and the others."
"I believe your niece is telling the truth. She did see something resembling Martha. I'd like to ask the other girls to compare what they saw."
"My daughter is still recovering elsewhere in Salem," Parris said. "One of the more vocal of the affected girls is Mercy Lewis. You might try asking her. Right now, she's living at the Putnam's residence not far from here."
"Thank you for your time, Reverend," The Seeker said, extending a hand. Parris shook it with a hint of hesitancy, but relaxed at The Seeker's friendly disposition.
"Mister… Seeker, was it? May I just ask, what is your stake in all this? You're not a permanent resident, nor do you have any connection to the citizens of this town. Why involve yourself at all?"
"What can I say? I want to know the truth as much as anyone."
Knocking at the door of the Putnam household, Penny and The Seeker were greeted by a middle-aged man and his wife, who welcomed the pair into their home. Mrs. Putnam brewed some tea for her guests, and everyone took seats on the main floor of the home, very similar to the layout of the Parris household beforehand.
"Forgive the intrusion, Mr. Putnam," Penny said, "but is Mercy here? There are some questions we'd like to ask her."
"About what?" Putnam asked.
"We're trying to get a sense of what she might have seen. As I understand it, she too witnessed Martha Corey's specter tormenting her."
"Not just her, but my daughter as well," Putnam said with a hint of anger. "My poor girl has been tortured and bewitched ever since these trials began."
"Are they both here?" The Seeker asked, taking a sip from his cup of tea.
"Yes, they're both just outside."
"May we speak to them?"
Mr. Putnam nodded to his wife, who moved to find the two girls.
"Alone, please," Penny added.
The Putnams, though hesitant, both left the room together.
"Why alone?" The Seeker asked.
"The entire Putnam family was involved in accusations of witchcraft during these trials. Many of their claims were against Mr. Putnam's own brother, out of jealously over his inheriting the family wealth. I'd be afraid the girls' answers would be amended with that kind of pressure over their shoulders."
The Seeker gave a quick nod as the two girls entered the room. Penny and The Seeker stood to greet them, introducing themselves and inviting them to join at the table. After some more lighthearted icebreaking conversation, The Seeker was the first to turn to their intended topic.
"Now, as to why we asked to speak to the two of you…" he began, "…may we ask you a few questions about the specter you have seen?"
The girls fell silent.
"…Why do you want to know about that?" Mercy asked.
"Well, I myself am actually curious as to what it looked like," The Seeker said, almost cheerfully. "I've never seen a specter before, and I'm very interested to find out what it's like to see one."
"It's nothing you'd want to experience," Ann Putnam Jr. said. She gave a nervous glance toward the doorway leading to where her parents were waiting.
"Hey," Penny said gently, drawing Ann's attention. "Everything you say here is between us four. No one else is going to hear this. Okay?"
Ann and Mercy both nodded.
"I've heard rumor that these specters sometimes leave marks on the people they visit," The Seeker said. "Have there been any unusual marks that you've found on yourselves these past few months?"
"We've all had them. Every one of us," Mercy said.
"Any recent ones?"
Mercy laid her left arm out on the table, gently rolling up her sleeve. Around her upper forearm, there were a number of welts. Some of them were faded and healed, while others were red and purple with recent bruising. They all appeared in small triangles, as if three pricks had been administered at the same time for each welt.
"Marks of demons," Mercy said with a look of disgust.
The Seeker inspected the marks, not touching Mercy's arm but looking quite closely.
"And each one of you has these welts?"
Ann rolled up her own sleeve, showing similar marks on her arms.
"Always on the arm?"
"Sometimes on our legs. Other times on our backs," Ann said. "Mary Warren had one on her neck once."
"And how long do they usually last?"
"A… few days to a week, perhaps?" Mercy said, glancing at Ann who nodded her agreement.
"When do these appear?"
"The morning after we see the specter. Every time."
"I see… thank you."
Mercy and Ann rolled down their sleeves, glancing between Penny and The Seeker in anticipation of further questioning. The Seeker sat back in his chair, thinking hard.
"And the specter's eyes. A deep red every time?" Penny asked.
The girls nodded.
"And what did it do after its visit?"
"Fled," Mercy said. "Out the window. I didn't see where it went after that."
The Seeker hummed loudly, still deep in thought. With one swift motion, he drank down the remainder of the tea in his cup, setting it down with a clack and standing from his seat.
"Thank you both for your time," he said warmly, extending a hand.
The girls both eyed him with confusion.
"Um… Seeker," Penny said, standing from her seat as well, "a woman must offer her hand, not the other way around. Remember?"
The Seeker stood with his hand extended for a beat before swiftly bringing it back to his side.
"Of course! Forgive… my… apparent ignorance," he said, brushing himself off despite his perfectly clean clothing. "Penny, shall we go?"
She nodded, thanking the girls for their time and proceeding outside just behind The Seeker. Once outside, Penny gave him a firm slap to the forearm.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"For a time traveler, you don't know much about the history of etiquette, do you?" Penny hissed.
"Well, excuse me for trying to be polite no matter what the era!"
"It's a wonder you were able to get by without me before I decided to come along with you."
"Hey, I can manage on my own just fine!"
"Really?" Penny said, raising an eyebrow. "Where's your TARDIS key?"
"Pff! Please," The Seeker said, reaching into his pocket. "It's right-"
His face went blank as he felt around in his coat pocket, growing more panicked as he moved to the other pockets on his person but not finding anything. With a grin, Penny pulled a small silver key from a pocket in her dress. She tossed it into the air and caught it, humming to herself and walking along as The Seeker stood with slouched shoulders and a dumbfounded look on his face.
"…Yes, yes! That's right! I remembered to give that to you!" he said, striding to catch up to her.
"Of course you did," Penny said, still grinning.
The day drew to a close, and The Seeker walked with Penny back towards the inn as the sun began to set on the horizon.
"Each of the girls we spoke to today claim to have seen the same thing," Penny said. "Every one of the specters had the same red eyes."
"And many claim it vanished into the forest after its visit."
"If this thing actually has a physical presence, I'm surprised no one else has seen or heard it."
"They might have mistaken the specter's commotion for that of the girls. Those fits they had created just as much commotion. Besides, they've been taught these things are actually invisible. I'd be paranoid if something like that could vanish and continue to torment me as it pleased."
"Any idea as to what this might actually be?"
"There's a few possibilities, but I feel we'll be able to learn more in the morning."
A sudden scream tore through the peaceful dusk. The cries came in the direction of Reverend Parris's residence. The town swiftly awoke, lanterns igniting and people rushing out of their homes toward the commotion.
"It's the Williams girl again!"
"I can't believe it, more witchery?"
"Martha Corey's specter?"
A mob began to form around the front door of Parris's estate. Penny and The Seeker had to force their way through the group to get inside.
"Seeker!" Parris said as the pair reached the base of the stairs. "Thank goodness you're here. Reverend Hale could use you help."
Rushing to the upper floor, they arrived to find Abigail shaking violently, lashing out if someone tried to approach her. Upon seeing The Seeker and Penny, she became hysterical, shrieking even louder than before.
"Abigail, what is it?" Reverend Hale said, trying to calm her down. "Did you see Martha Corey's specter again?"
Abigail shook her head fiercely, refusing to look up at the people around her.
"Then who was it? Who tormented you?"
She slowly looked up, eyes wide and face ghostly pale. She slowly raised a hand.
And pointed directly at Penny.
"What?" The Seeker looked from Abigail to Penny and back. "You can't be serious."
All eyes were now on the two of them. Everyone standing nearby slowly backed away.
"This explains everything," Parris said. "Why you wanted to know so much. How you knew what questions to ask!"
"Now, hold on a sec-"
"You are witches!"
Everyone began to crowd around the two of them, forcing them into a back corner of the room. The Seeker drew his sonic screwdriver from within his coat pocket, trying to keep himself between Penny and the growing madness of the mob.
"You have no evidence to convict the both of us!"
"True," Reverend Parris said. "We have enough to convict her."
The Seeker raised his screwdriver, pointing in an attempt to keep the crowd back.
"No one lays a finger on Penny!"
"Seeker," Penny interjected, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Don't. Don't make things worse."
"Penny, you can't honestly think that-"
"I'll be fine. Just figure out what's going on here."
She walked toward the crowd. Two men present took her by each arm and led her downstairs.
"I'll find out what's going on here, Penny! I'll free you! I swear it!"
Penny managed to give one last hopeful glance at The Seeker as she was escorted out of the room. Everyone was left in a tense silence. The Seeker immediately set his mind to work, trying to think of a way to resolve the situation. His eyes darted around the room, eventually falling on Abigail, who was still shivering in the corner.
"Abby!" he exclaimed, rushing towards her. The two Reverends restrained him before he could reach her. "Please! You need to tell me where that specter went!"
Abigail said nothing, but continued to stare at The Seeker fearfully.
"For crying out loud, girl!" The Seeker yelled, becoming frustrated. "Penny is not to blame for this! You've met her! Can you honestly say she'd want to inflict harm on anyone?!"
"Can't you see the poor girl is distressed enough?" Reverend Hale protested, struggling to hold The Seeker back.
"Abby, please! Where did it go?!"
Abigail's gaze shifted. Following her line of sight, The Seeker traced it to a window on the wall opposite where she was cowering. Breaking free of the two reverends, he rushed to the window and searched frantically for any sign of movement. The sun had nearly set, only leaving a thin layer of pale light on the horizon. Silhouettes of the trees were barely visible, and a majority of the movement came from the crowd outside the Parris household. Becoming increasingly distressed, The Seeker strained to see if there was anything moving along the tree line.
"Mister Seeker," Parris said, approaching behind him, "I'll have to ask you to leave my home at once."
The Seeker made no reply, continuing to stare intently out the window.
A faint shift in the shadows quickly grabbed his attention, and the hearts in the frantic Time Lord's chest both skipped beats as he spun round and sprinted for the stairs. In his rush, he knocked Reverend Parris aside, sending him tumbling to the floor. The Seeker sped down the stairs, leapt across the living room and bounded out the door, sprinting as hard as he could in the direction of the movement he had spotted.
Hale and Parris both proceeded down the stairs after him, stopping in the doorway before a startled crowd that had barely managed to move out of The Seeker's path.
"Well don't just stand there!" Parris yelled angrily at the men gathered around his front door. "He's headed for the woods! Stop him before he gets away!"
A small collection of men began to chase after The Seeker, who was quite a distance ahead of them by this time. Reaching the edge of the forest, he began to weave through the labyrinth of ancient tree trunks, sonic screwdriver serving as a bright, golden-yellow lantern in the near pitch darkness of the wood. He scanned his surroundings, madly searching for anything resembling his companion.
"I know you're here!" he called out into the dark. "Whatever you are, you can't hide forever!"
The faint sound of fiendish laughter reached his ears. It resembled Penny's voice, but held an uncharacteristic amount of cruelty.
"Did I say something funny?" The Seeker asked.
"You're not from around here either, are you, Seeker?" Penny's voice mocked from the shadows. "Two strangers from other worlds, meeting on a rock like this. It's almost poetic."
"If you're lost or stranded here, I can help! My ship can easily take you back to your home!"
"That's where you're wrong, Time Lord! I have no home to return to! What's more, I don't want to leave. I rather enjoy it here. These simple-minded fools are the perfect pawns for creating chaos! Everything in this world is so easily persuaded and deceived."
The Seeker continued to search the forest, becoming more frantic as he began to hear the sound of his pursuers beginning to catch up behind him.
"What are you looking for, Seeker?" Penny's voice asked. "Why go to such lengths?"
"She's my companion," The Seeker said fiercely. "My friend!"
"That's not what I mean."
The Seeker paused. Turning round, he was now face-to-face with Penny's specter. It held Penny's exact likeness, save for one feature: blood-red irises. It stared him down, a curious grin crossing its face.
"What is the answer you hope to find?" it persisted. "What could be so important to do all this?"
"The only answer I want is to know is why you're doing this," The Seeker said, matching the specter's gaze.
"Oh, please, it's not that hard to figure out."
The specter's form suddenly began to writhe and churn, hair shortening as it grew taller. Its clothing changed color, becoming a pale coat with a blue tie forming around its neck. In a matter of moments, The Seeker was staring at an exact copy of himself.
"I do it because it's fun."
"A Zygon!" The Seeker exclaimed, stepping closer to get a better look at his doppelganger. "Oh, now that is something else! This explains everything! The peculiar marks left on the tormented girls! The reason you've gone unseen all this time! You just hide in plain sight. No one suspects a thing."
He took a step back, a new thought occurring to him.
"Wait… how did you know to ask those questions? Penny doesn't know about…"
The Zygon smiled.
"…You're not alone in this," The Seeker said. "You're working for someone. Who? Or what? Come to think of it, Zygons are able to replicate their victims perfectly, so… why the persistent red eyes? A mark of one of your clans?"
The snapping of twigs underfoot alerted the two Seekers to the growing presence of their pursuers. The Seeker grew anxious, turning to question the Zygon further.
"Who is it? Who has put you up to this?!"
"The truth evades you even now," the Zygon taunted. "And even with the answers you've gained, you still won't be able to save your precious companion.
"I found him! He's over here!" the Zygon yelled out, changing its voice to resemble that of one of the townsfolk. In the few moments before The Seeker was surrounded, the Zygon had already changed form to resemble one of the town's inhabitants.
"Don't move," one of the men commanded. "You're not getting away."
"Just one question before you apprehend me, gentlemen…" The Seeker said, raising both hands above his head. "…Did anyone bring any lanterns?"
"Of course."
"Ah. Good to know."
With the press of a button on his sonic screwdriver, the brightest light in the entire forest vanished, leaving everyone in near pitch black darkness. The flickering flames of the lamps the men had brought weren't enough to sufficiently light the dark of the woods. In the confusion, some of the men fired shots from their muskets, bright flashes of gunpowder flashing clarity for only a second at a time. In those flickering moments, The Seeker could barely be seen apprehending one of the men in the crowd and rushing off into the darkness. By the time any proper light could be created, The Seeker was long gone, leaving the mob to search in vain.
The sun shined in pale streams through the cracks in the prison doorway, barely illuminating the dank space inside. Penny sat in silence, shackles on her wrists chained to a post in the wall. She kept her legs pressed up against her chest, trying to stay warm in the autumn morning cold. Her breath created small clouds of fog that floated gently outward from her lips. The only other movement in the cell was the occasional shift of one of the other prisoners, which wasn't often.
The sound of keys in a padlock reverberated through the gloom, the light of the sun pouring into the jail. The prisoners squinted at the glare, the silhouettes of men passing them by.
"Penny," a man's voice said gruffly, "you are wanted in the court."
Another man unlocked the shackles from the chain on the wall, but kept Penny's hands tied. They led her outside, the sky above grey with overcast. All was quiet on the way to the town hall.
The double doors of the hall swung open, leading into what seemed like a hallway composed of glaring eyes and hateful expressions. Penny's steps on the wood floor resounded through the room until she was presented before the three judges, all of whom stared down at her with a sense of dignified pretension.
"Penny," Judge Hathorne, who was seated to the right of Judge Stoughton, "you are accused of the crime of witchcraft, specifically for sending your specter to torment Abigail Williams. How do you plead?"
Penny stood silent. Hushed whispers came from the crowd behind her, and the judges exchanged glances before proceeding.
"Judge Hathorne just asked you a question, Miss Penny," Judge Stoughton said. "You have been accused-"
"I heard him," Penny said firmly, silencing both the judge and the whispering crowd behind her.
"Then you understand that your life depends upon your testimony."
"I refuse to testify based on complete and utter nonsense," Penny said bluntly.
This caused a commotion to stir in the crowd.
"She refutes the word of God!"
"Suffer not a witch to live!"
"This is Satan's hand at work!"
"This isn't the work of the Devil, and I have proof!" Penny declared, facing the crowd.
The crowd, sated with paranoia and anger, cast Penny's words aside as a bluff, calling her a liar or falling back on the idea of Satan's hand in the matter.
"Order! Order!" Judge Stoughton called across the hall. The crowd reluctantly settled into a tense silence. "You say you have evidence of your innocence. Well… what is it?"
"A witness I call to testify on my behalf: The Seeker."
"The Seeker vanished the same night of your arrest, Miss Penny," Judge Hathorne said. "He has not been seen since, and even if he were to be found, he is just as worthy of suspicion as you are. What makes you think he would testify in this court?"
"He'll be here," Penny said with a confident smile.
After a few moments of reserved discussion, the three judges addressed the courtroom.
"Seeing as you will not confess to your crimes, nor plead innocent or guilty, we have no choice but to keep you imprisoned until you see fit to confess-"
A swiftly growing gust of wind began to blow throughout the courtroom. A familiar high pitched, fluctuating whistle along with an airy grinding sound echoed through the walls as a shining beacon of light pulsed into existence a few feet away from where Penny stood. A blue police public call box began to take shape, which caused many in the crowd to back away as far as they could. The three judges stood from their seats as the blue box finally took solid form with a final thud.
The doors flew open, and out stepped The Seeker.
"Overruled!" he yelled, pointing a finger at Stoughton.
Penny shook her head, but a smile never left her face. "You had a moment there, but you ruined it."
"I did not!" The Seeker retorted. "I just thought any other line would have sounded cliché."
"Actually, any other line would have worked."
"Says you. Honorable judges of Salem!" he continued, addressing the court. "Gentlemen of the jury, and citizens of the town of Salem! May I have your attention?"
Silence presided over the entire congregation.
"Perfect! Thank you! Now, admittedly, I must be honest and say I lied when I told you all I was a locksmith, though I don't think that's going to be hard to accept at this point. However, what I'm about to present to you may be a bit harder to process…"
Reaching back inside his TARDIS, The Seeker brought out a man held by a very secure set of shackles. Flinging him down the center aisle, the man came to rest on his back, staring up with deep red eyes at the crowd that now craned over to get a look at him. Everyone who saw was understandably shocked, and gasps of disbelief were joined by stammering statements of confusion.
"Here's your so-called specter!" The Seeker declared. "A shape shifting creature that can take any form it desires. It has been living among you for quite some time, learning who in this town has a grudge against who, extorting rumor and prejudice to bring about these trials and executions. Not an apparition as you'd like to believe, but a real live physical being of flesh and bone."
"What this madman is saying is a lie!" the Zygon said. "I may have strange eyes, but there's no way I can-"
The whir of The Seeker's sonic screwdriver sent a slight jolt from the shackles into the Zygon's arms, causing it to growl and roar in an entirely inhuman way. For a moment, its face shifted back to that of its true alien form, revealing not only ghastly red skin but black tattoo-like marks along its face and forehead as well.
The shock of all of this was too great for some. A few people turned away from this gruesome spectacle, while a couple women in the crowd passed out. The three judges, who this entire time had remained in stumped silence, now approached to view this evidence with their own eyes.
"Seeker," Judge Stoughton said, still aghast, "are you saying this… demon is responsible for all the strife Abigail and the other girls have been demonstrating?"
"This creature has special poisons that it can administer through touch," The Seeker explained. "I have no doubt it is responsible for both the peculiar marks and the fits of hysteria your children have been demonstrating."
Judge Stoughton went pale, nearly collapsing were it not for Judge Hathorne providing assistance.
"Every one of the accused we've sentenced… they… were…"
"Innocent," The Seeker finished.
Not only Judge Stoughton, but the entire crowd was left to digest the folly of their actions. Some shed guilty tears; others were caught in a state of denial.
"It's not your fault," The Seeker said, walking over to free Penny from her binds. "These creatures are masters of disguise and deception. Even I couldn't discern it from the rest of you until I was able to corner it.
"Are you alright?" he asked Penny as her shackles dropped to the floor.
"I'm pissed you left me in a prison cell for a whole night," Penny said, refusing to meet The Seeker's gaze.
"Yeah… sorry about that. I kind of needed a trial to take place for this whole plan to work. Which reminds me…"
The Seeker turned back to the crowd, which was beginning to gather around the Zygon with a growing desire for vengeance.
"Everyone! Everyone, please listen to me!"
The mob turned, at which point The Seeker directed his sonic screwdriver at the top of his TARDIS. The glowing light atop the public call box began to glow brightly. The Seeker swiftly averted Penny's gaze from the glare as white light flooded the room.
When the light had faded, everyone in the hall stood with blank stares and emotionless expressions. The Seeker glanced about the room, trying to see if there were any outliers aside from Penny and himself.
"What… did you do?" Penny asked, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the drastic change in lighting.
"A simple memory wipe," The Seeker said in a hushed voice. "Anything they hear now will be accepted as fact.
"This trial never took place," he continued loudly, making sure everyone in the hall heard. "The people named Penny and The Seeker never visited the town of Salem. You hold no recollections of any individuals by our appearances, names, what have you. There is no such thing as shape shifters, but you all believe witchcraft is possible. You do not believe yourselves to be capable of such acts, no matter who accuses you.
"Abigail Williams, you still believe Martha Corey sent her specter to torment you. This applies to any of you girls affected in these cases. And you, Zygon, are not a Zygon, but a citizen of this town. You have, however, grown tired of these trials and will leave to find another place to live within the next few days. This meeting was called on the case of Martha Corey, and it has just been adjourned. This is why you are all preparing to leave. Thank you all for your attention… and I'm sorry."
After completing the memory replacement, The Seeker turned back towards his TARDIS with a grim expression.
"Let's go, Penny," he said sternly.
Penny, just as somber as the Time Lord, walked into the TARDIS. The Seeker followed, closing the doors behind him. With a rev of its engines, the TARDIS faded into thin air.
The citizens of Salem blinked and glanced about themselves for a few moments. Judge Stoughton, upon getting to his feet, turned and looked about the room.
"This hearing has been adjourned. Now clear the hall! Come on!"
Everyone seemed to come to their senses, hurrying out of the hall, muttering about how shocked they were at Martha Corey being convicted of witchcraft. One individual seemed highly distressed by the proceedings, and left in a much greater hurry than the others.
"Judge Stoughton," Reverend Hale said, approaching the three judges, "I must admit I have my doubts over the legitimacy of some of the claims placed against Goody Corey."
"The Devil takes many forms, Reverend," Stoughton replied. "Even the best of us can fall to his temptations. The trials will continue until this town is free from Satan's dark grasp."
"Why did you do that?" Penny asked. "More people are going to be executed now."
"Exactly," The Seeker said, keeping his eyes down over the TARDIS's control console. "Innocent people are going to die. They must."
"Because of their impact on history," Penny said, giving a solemn nod. "These trials are what brought about the abolishment of witchcraft accusations in courts of law."
"Mankind learns a lesson that will affect its entire history thanks to the madness that spread in this town."
He gripped the edge of the control panel with white knuckled hands. Penny walked around the console to his side and placed a hand on his.
"It doesn't make it any easier, does it?" she said.
The Seeker remained silent, refusing to look up.
"It would have been worse had you not intervened," Penny continued. "That… Zygon wouldn't have stopped at just Salem. Better it be a bout of paranoia from a secluded town than an extraterrestrial threat, don't you think?"
The Seeker inhaled deeply, and gave a steady sigh.
His breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened sharply.
"The Zygon…" he muttered. He swiftly moved about the TARDIS's main floor, checking on alternate computer monitors and going through various records in a flurry of mish-mash research.
"What? What is it?" Penny asked.
"Zygons don't just show up somewhere alone. They're a clan-based species. They don't act individually. What's more, no Zygon would cause havoc just for its own sake. They've always been about conquest!"
"You didn't think to ask it about this when you had it held captive?" Penny asked.
"Of course I didn't! You were in prison! I had to get you out!"
The Seeker gasped and snapped his fingers madly in a fit of realization.
"And it knew things! Things I haven't had a chance to explain to you yet! How? No Zygon warlord would know a thing about my ambitions, let alone try and find them out…"
Penny smiled at seeing The Seeker so ambitious once again. "Well, Seeker… what's your next move going to be?"
"I have no idea!" The Seeker said, returning to the central control panel. "I can't determine anything with these bits of information. So…"
He swiftly rearranged a set of holographic projections on a screen in front of him, toggling various switches and buttons moments later. The TARDIS churned to life, swaying steadily as it began to fly through the vortex.
"…we're just going to have to keep looking."
As the TARDIS shook and tremored, Penny beamed with excitement.
"Now that's the spirit!" The Seeker exclaimed, tossing a large switch into place. "Off to find the answer. Bring it on!"