Like a thunderous herd of galloping horses, they all burst into Shakespeare's room to see him jerking awake from an apparent snooze while Dolly's body hung limply on the floor. "What..." He shook his head free, glancing at the intruders. "What was that?"

Martha, seeing something near the window, bolted over to it just in time to catch the silhouette of a witch upon a broom racing along in the sky.

Rolling Dolly over, Amara frowned when she saw the woman to a have slightly altered appearance than before, "No way..." She breathed, pulling the Doctor down beside her.

"Her heart gave out." The Doctor commented as they both saw the shade of snowy hair that replaced the previous golden shroud that had been there before. "What're you thinking, 'Mara?" He asked, finding the use of the nickname coming more naturally as he looked at her.

"I think..." Staring down at the poor land lady, Amara brushed fallen strands of hair from her eyes and sighed in confirmation. "She died of fright."

Martha, still evidently shaken from what she'd witnessed, gulped. "Doctor... 'Mara..."

The pair on the ground looked up at Martha; the Doctor frowned as he rose to his feet, helping Amara to hers before they wandered over to Martha. "What did you see?"

"Are you all right?" Amara asked.

"Yeah," Martha gave a soft nod of her head, "But I think... I'm pretty sure... I think I just saw a witch."

Not long after, the small company had gathered around Shakespeare's desk just as dawn starting to break through the cluster of clouds. Martha was sat string bug-eyed across the desk at the Doctor, who was sat reclining in his chair with his arm draped over Amara's shoulders as the woman looked as though she was going to fall asleep where she sat. He was staring at her with a perturbed look on his face, one that had an underlying trace of guilt.

She found their placement rather sweet.

"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey." William gave a great sigh in disbelief, torn at having been face with two deaths in the space of one night. "She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place. We all ran like rats." He turned to look at them, his brow furrowed deeply in question. "But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit."

Rubbing Amara's shoulder, the Doctor sighed. "'Rage, rage against the dying of the light.'" He quoted softly, humming as the woman shifted slightly.

"Dylan Thomas..." Amara spoke quietly as the Doctor smiled.

Shakespeare stared at the pair, frowning the sight of them. "I might use that."

"You can't." The Doctor replied, "It's someone else's."

"But the thing is," Martha frowned in thought. "Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright and they were both connected to you."

"You're accusing me?" William demanded in complete outrage, his eyes widening.

"She's not saying that," Amara remarked in annoyance, finding she'd had enough of William Shakespeare for one day.

"But I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."

William frowned, recalling what Martha had just said. "I have? When was that?" As far as he was concerned he'd never written anything whatsoever related to witches in his career.

The Doctor shook his head, "Not, not quite yet." He told her in a low voice.

"Now you mention it, Peter Streete spoke of witches."

Amara frowned, sitting up slightly though in the Doctor's hold, it was easier said than done. "Who's Peter Streete?"

"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."

"The architect." The Doctor agreed before his face fell ever so slightly in slow realisation. "Hold on... the architect! The architect!" He slammed his fist down on the table, jolting Amara, having forgotten he still had his arm wrapped around her shoulder. "The Globe! Come on!" Jumping to his feet, he pulled Amara up with him and grinned before grabbing her hand and pulling her along with him.

Twirling around, the Doctor's coat billowed behind him as he glanced around the pit, Martha and William stood atop the stage while Amara wandered the far side, eyeing the centre box. "The columns there, right? fourteen sides." He muttered to himself as Amara eyeing the centre box again, frowning. "I've always wondered but I never asked... tell me, Will, why fourteen sides?"

"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all." William replied with a shrug, "Said it carried the sound well... what is she doing?" He pointed to Amara who, while they'd been talking, had started to climb up the centre column rather than use the stairs.

"Different perspective!"

"She's fine," The Doctor waved it off, still frowning. "Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen..."

"There are fourteen lines in a sonnet." Martha suggested with a shrug.

"So there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design." The Doctor acknowledged before beginning to pace and back and forth in thought. "Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets..." He tapped his head furiously, "Oh, my head. Tetradecagon... think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!"

William sighed, confused at the Globe's significance. "This is just a theatre."

"Oh, but a theatre's magic, isn't it?" The Doctor challenged, walking over to the stage, staring up at him. "You should know... stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis a the right time..." He patted the stage thoughtfully, Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy, change them. You can change people's minds just with words in this place." He pushed away from the stage and began to wonder again. "And if you exaggerate that..."

"It's like your police box; small wooden box with all that power inside."

"Oh." The Doctor grinned. "Oh, Martha Jones. I like you."

"Oh, that's clever..." Amara peered over the edge of the box and grinned, drumming her hands on the side. "It's so much more than that. This is clever! Clever! Ridiculously clever. Brilliant, actually." She sung in amusement, pacing along the top column.

Looking up, the Doctor saw her smiling. "What?"

"Fourteen sides..." Amara gestured to the stage where William and Martha were stood. "Martha saw a witch, Will's a human marionette doll. They attack through DNA molecules, I'm assuming that while words are their power as is physical manipulation. Still nothing?" The Doctor shrugged and she moved so she was practically hanging over the sides in pure amusement. "The Pristatrek Galaxy. Fourteen stars of the Rexel Planetary Configuration."

Mouth falling agape, the Doctor stared up at her for a moment in utter surprise. "If you're right..."

"I'm good, aren't I?" Amara grinned smugly, "Not everyone needs "brainy specs", Spaceman."

The Doctor laughed, pressing his hands to his mouth in congratulations as he blew kisses. "Oh, I could kiss you!" He exclaimed, beaming.

"Control yourself, we're in public."

Rolling his eyes, the Doctor spun around to look at William. "Tell you what, though. Peter Streete. Can we talk to him?"

"You won't get an answer." William breathed with a frown. "A month after finishing this place...

Jogging down the stairs, Amara strolled out into the pit. "He went cuckoo... thought as much. He lost his mind, how convenient." She paused when she saw William eyeing her curiously, "Not for him, obviously." She amended with a bowed head.

"Yes, he went mad." William agreed.

"Why?" Martha folded her arms, frowning. "What happened?"

"Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. His mind was addled."

Amara bit the inside of her cheek, "I'd argued that."

"Where is he now?" The Doctor pressed, moving to stand beside Amara.

"Bedlam." William answered with a hard swallow as Amara's eyes widened.

Martha glanced between them. "What's Bedlam?"

"Bethlem Hospital. The madhouse."

"We're gonna go there." The Doctor announced, turning around in one fluid movement. "Right now. Come on." He grabbed Amara's hand and hauled her along with him eagerly.

Allowing the Doctor to drag her along, she laughed. "Not this hand malarkey again, Spaceman."

"What's wrong with it?" He frowned, briefly glancing at their entwined hands. He's always did it, with Donna Noble... bless Donna Noble. Martha didn't seem to mind. He always did it with Rose. "We'll get there quicker if we move at the same speed."

"And yet, you'll move slower dragging me."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, "I love a good smart arse, mortal."

Amara smiled slightly, "Is that a term of endearment I detect, Spaceman?"

"Perhaps."

Behind them, Shakespeare had coerced Martha into conversing with him through his usual means of flirting. "So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors, writers, actors..." He smiled at her.

"This country's ruled by a woman." Martha remarked immediately.

"Ah, she's royal." William shrugged, "That's God's business... though you are a royal beauty."

Martha paused, shaking her head. "Whoa, Nelly! I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country."

"But Martha, this is the town." He pulled her flush against himself immediately.

"Come on." The Doctor halted suddenly to turn to the pair behind himself and Amara. "We can all have a good flirt later." He was growing sick and tired of Shakespeare flirting with his companions, though he was thankful that at least Amara declined it at every given chance whereas Martha seemed to enjoy every moment of it. It was infuriating.

"Is that a promise, Doctor?" William teased, glancing over at him with a smirk which wiped the vexed expression from the Doctor's face.

"Oh, fifty-seven academics just punched the air." The Doctor breathed, closing his eyes in frustration. "Now move!"

"Oh, Will..." Amara chuckled as the Doctor tugged her along again, "I think you just made him blush."

"It is a pity that such a rosy shade had not befallen your cheeks, my lovely lady for I would have raced to indulge myself in..."

"Oi!" The Doctor blurted in irritation, glowering slightly, having retained his frustration. "No, no, no, no. No. Just... just lay off." He warned William lowly, not noticing the surprised look from both of the women as he expressed a seemingly protective regard to Amara pushing her behind him.

"Harmless." William rose his hands in surrender, chuckling at the reaction.

Echoing and rippled from the walls, screeches and moans ricocheted off of their bodies as they were led through the halls, their ears bleeding at the greeting of pained, menacing screams of the helpless.

Turning to face them, the jailer smirked in amusement at their horrified expressions. "Does my lord, Doctor, wish some entertainment while he waits?" He gestured to the cells they passed, "I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for ya. Bandog and Bedlam!"

"No, I don't!" The Doctor hissed, watching as Amara slowed, staring at the residents in the cells with a silent agony in the depths of her eyes. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to him. "Are you all right?" The way she looked at him told him the answer to his question and he winced, brow furrowed at the realisation that she was familiar with the environment.

"Wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies."

Pausing, Amara ran her hand along a cell wall and it was grabbed almost immediately by the man who lurked inside, clutching her fingers for dear life as she knelt beside the cell. She smiled sadly, not pulling away as Shakespeare began to rant in outrage why it wasn't a good idea to do so. "A little comfort never hurt anyone!" She hissed, turning back to the man.

Sending William a look, the Doctor set a hand on her shoulder. "Come on," He murmured, hauling her up as the man let go of her hand. "Just try not to look at them..."

Amara clenched her jaw, "It's hard," She murmured as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder to pull her against him again. "No one belongs behind a cell for the whole world to see, to poke their ugly faces in on you while you're helpless to do anything about it."

The Time Lord's face fell entirely as he turned his back on Shakespeare and Martha, effortlessly pulling Amara into his arms so he could hug her to him securely. "We can talk about, if you want to." He offered quietly, blocking her from Shakespeare's view as he rubbed her back.

"I'm all right," Amara removed herself from his embrace, wrapping her arms around herself as they waited. "When we leave..." She told him softly, scratching the back of her neck in discomfort.

"So this is what you call a hospital, yeah?" Martha glanced around them in disbelief. "Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?"

William rolled his eyes, "Oh, and it's all so different in Freedonia."

"But you're clever!" Martha accused, "Do you honestly think this place is any good?"

"I've been mad. I've lost my mind." William affirmed quietly, his toe having grown worrisome and dark. "Fear of this place set me right again... it serves its purpose."

"Mad in what way?" Martha wondered out of interest.

"You lost your son." The Doctor spoke softly, sighing as he watched Amara stare off into some invisible torment while the screams continued with their vicious onslaught. Perhaps bringing her along for the ride hadn't been such a good idea... but he didn't want to take her back to Torchwood either. He was torn.

"My only boy." William swallowed thickly, the subject often distant and painful. "The Black Death took him... I wasn't even there."

"I didn't know." Martha bowed her head as she quietly spoke, "I'm sorry."

"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be..." He trailed off in thought before a small smile crossed his face. "Oh, that's quite good."

"You should write that down." The Doctor suggested with a slight smile, having not taken his eyes from Amara as she glanced around the cells, her eyes glazed over with silent worry.

"Hmm, maybe not. A bit pretentious?"

"This way, m'lord!" The jailer called as they all trudged down to where he was stood waiting outside a cell which held a filthy man lying in a cot, "They can be dangerous, m'lord. Don't know their own strength."

"I think it helps if you don't whip them!" The Doctor hissed in disgust, "Now get out!"

Amara brushed past the jailer instantly to perch on the stool opposite the architect, frowning softly. "Peter?" She held out her hand to him which the man eyed cautiously, his eyes barely meeting her as he moved to touch it but then decided against it.

"He's the same as he was." William explained softly, remaining near the entrance. "You'll get nothing out of him."

Ignoring Shakespeare, the Doctor let his hand fall on Peter's shoulder, causing the man to jerk as he looked at him with the same crazed, glassy gaze Amara had received moments before. "Peter?"

"He's not incompetent." Amara commented with a heavy sigh, gripping the man's hand so he could feel her heartbeat, a method she hoped would calm him. "He wants to speak, but someone's obstructed his speech purposely." She felt the fingers at her wrist tighten when the Doctor knelt in front of him, causing the man to stir, panic crossing his face.

Hesitantly, the Doctor placed his fingertips on either side of Peter's face, "Peter, I'm the Doctor." He told him softly before closing his eyes, breathing evenly. "Go into the past, one year ago. Let your mind go back, back to when everything was fine and shining. Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story... a winter's tale. Let go. Listen. That's it, just let go." With a sudden ease, the Doctor managed to get Peter to settle in the cot. "Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches..."

"It's all right," Amara murmured, having moved due to his hold on her wrist, "You're safe... they can't hurt you anymore."

"Witches spoke to Peter... in the night, they whispered." He tried to hit himself but Amara's hands enclosed around his so she could hold them firmly, forcing the pulse point in her wrist under his fingertips. "Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design! The fourteen walls, always fourteen. When the work was done," he started to laugh manically before adopting an eerie trance just like before. "They sapped poor Peter's wits."

"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city?" Crouching beside him again, he frowned in desperation - he needed to know, he needed to know so he help. "Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?"

"Peter," Amara called the man to her when he hesitated, seeming conflicted about his answer. "You have to tell us so we can help... where are they?"

"All Hallows Street." He whispered.

"Too many words." An unknown voice asserted as the Doctor sprung to his feet, while Amara stood in front of Peter to block him from view.

"What the hell?" Martha gaped.

"Just one touch of the heart." The witch, Doomfinger, lifted a hand as a wicked cackle left her mouth.

Despite shouts of protest from the Doctor, she hadn't bothered to move. "I don't think so, Hag-atha." Amara bit out, holding her ground as she remained in front of him, despite the prospect of being touched and outed as a Time Lady. Her mind screamed move, but her hearts were defiant. Defiantly stupid.

As Doomfinger went to touch her, the Doctor seized her arm and yanked her away as the hand met Peter's chest, "No!" He exclaimed in outrage as Peter's writhed within the cot before curling up on his side and ceasing to move, lifeless and limp.

"Witch!" William bellowed, pulling Martha to him. "I'm seeing a witch!"

"Who would be next, hmm?" Doomfinger glanced between the four of them with a maniacal grin, wiggling her finger. "Just one touch. Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts... poor, fragile mortals."

In a sudden panic, Martha flung herself at the cell wall, "Let us out! Let us out!"

"That's not gonna work. The whole building's shouting that."

"Who will die first, hmm?" She tilted her head, awaiting to curse the fate of another among them.

He felt Amara move to pass him, grabbing her he smoothly tucked her behind him as he sighed in contemplation. "Well, if you're looking for volunteers." He strode forward, hands in pockets and wearing a sheepish expression.

"No! Don't!"

"Doctor, can you stop her?" William cried out, wary as his eyes remained glued to Doomfinger.

Doomfinger cackled at William, "No mortal has power over me."

"Oh, but there's a power in words." The Doctor announced through a clenched jaw, "If I can find the right one, if I can just know you..."

"None on Earth has knowledge of us." Doomfinger argued.

"Unlucky for you, my lovely companion here figured that out. She's smart, ridiculously so... it's a good thing we're here," He glared at Doomfinger before continuing, knowing he was fortunate to have stumbled upon Amara deliberately. "Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy... ah, fourteen! That's it! Fourteen!" He turned to Amara, grinning. "You said so, didn't you? So, so, so clever. It's infuriating."

"The fourteen stars of the Rexel Planetary Configuration."

Turning back to Doomfinger, the Doctor glared. "Creature, I name you Carrionite!" As the words left his mouth, Doomfinger wailed hysterically before dissipating, leaving them staring at the inner walls of the cell.

"What did you do?" Martha gasped as the Doctor turned to face them, wrapping an arm around Amara's shoulder.

"I named her." He shrugged in reply, "The power of a name, that's old magic."

Martha scoffed, remembering what he'd told her about magic not existing. "But there's no such thing as magic."

"Well, it's just a different sort of science." The Doctor explained, moving towards the cell door, ready to leave. "You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom."

"Carrionites use words instead." Amara added.

"Use them for what?" William pressed, his chest heaving.

"The end of the world." The Doctor grimaced as the jailer finally returned, hauling open the door as he led Amara through it. Sighing, he glanced down at her, noticing her spirits were still dampened, something he never liked to see. "You know... we make a pretty good team, 'Mara." He offered her a smile. "You've been holding out on me."

She smiled back, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I told you, not everyone needs "brainy specs" to be clever."

"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe." The Doctor told them as he paced in Shakespeare's room, a deep frown pulling across his face as he racked his brain. "Nobody was sure if they were real or legend." He shook his head in frustration, tapping it as if to make his brain find the answer, giving it direction.

"Well, I'm going for real." William added, sucking in a sharp breath.

Amara nodded, "Sensible."

"But what do they want?" Martha frowned as she turned to the Doctor, arms folded as she waited expectantly for the answer that didn't come from him.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Amara rose to her feet, looking at Martha as the woman turned around before leaning against the table with a sigh. Evidently not... "A new empire on Earth minus us lot."

The Doctor sighed, "A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."

"But how?"

Glancing over at William, the Doctor cleared his throat before addressing the distracted man. "I'm looking at the man with the words."

"Me?" William gaped, staring at the Doctor with a startled look. "But I've done nothing.

"Hold on, though." Martha turned to him as well, "What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?" She wondered aloud thoughtfully, a soft frown appearing.

"Finishing the play."

Amara pushed off of the table suddenly, "What happens on the last page?" She walked towards him, stern as she stared at him closely, arms folded.

"The boys get the girls, they have a bit of a dance." He told her with a confused look, "It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual, except those last few lines. Funny thing is..." William looked down in thought, "I don't actually remember writing them."

"That's probably because you didn't." Amara commented as she wheeled around to look at the Doctor.

"That's it!" The Doctor realised, "They used you, they gave you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. "Love's Labours Won", it's a weapon! The right combination of words, spoken at the right place with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing!" He gasped, turning away for a moment, "And yes, you can have that."

"I told you, human marionette doll." Amara let out, spinning away.

It had been surprisingly frustration to find a map in Shakespeare's room with papers strewn all over the place and ink stains on almost everything, so when the eventually found one, she was especially impressed to see the thing clean and without any tainting at the hands of the poet.

William stared as the Doctor frowned at the contents of the map, having adorned an accessory he'd never seen across his eyes. "What are those things he wears?" He nudged Amara, gesturing to the Doctor's face.

Amara sighed, smiling. "He thinks they make him look clever. He doesn't actually need them, it just boosts his outrageous ego." She informed the poet as the Doctor's head shot up with a frown.

"Oi, zip it zippy."

She laughed, "Shut it, Spaceman."

"And he told me off." William murmured from her side, causing her to glance at him.

Shakespeare wore an accusing expression as she stared at him, wondering what had riffled the man's feathers now. "Pardon?" Amara didn't quite understand what he was talking about, well, she had some inclination...

He nodded to the Doctor, "He flirts so openly..."

Her eyes widened in realisation and she immediately began to shake her in disagreement. "Oh no, it's not..." She would not have some poet, no matter how bloody famous, implicate her like that. No, it couldn't, it wouldn't...

"I think it is." William challenged with a smirk, folding his arms as they both watched the Doctor working, "You're just like him... he just doesn't know it. I've seen you looking, how you try to put distance between the both of you and he goes against it." He paused for a split second, contemplating the Doctor. "He's protective, so it's not entirely unrequited- "

"What now?" Her eyes bulged in their sockets.

William shrugged, "But I thought- "

"No." She interjected plainly, wanting to put the conversation to bed as soon as she was able. "Platonic is a great word. Love platonic."

"Fine." William breathed in amusement.

Eyeing the pair opposite them for a moment, the Doctor glanced back down at the map and grinned, "All Hallows Street. There it is." He exclaimed, pulling off his glasses and tucking them away. "We'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!"

"I'll do it," William shook the Doctor's hand, smiling widely. "All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."

"Oh, don't complain." Martha sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not." He sent her a quick flash of teeth, "It's marvellous. Good luck, Doctor."

"Good luck, Shakespeare." The Doctor hollered, moving towards the door. "Once more unto the breach!"

"I like that." William smiled with a nod of his head before he frowned, "Wait a minute... that's one of mine."

"Oh, just shift!" The Doctor shouted as the four of them raced out of the inn, separating into pairs. Frowning, the Doctor jogged to a halt and grabbed Amara's hand as she made to follow Shakespeare. "'Mara, what are you doing?"

She shrugged, "I'm the cavalry." If a brilliant, brilliant time-traveller such as the Doctor expected William Shakespeare to stop one of his own plays single-handedly, he definitely did need his "brainy specs".

He tugged on her arm, trying to pull her along with him. "No, you're coming with us."

"You honestly think he's going to be able to stop that play?" She countered, staring up at him as he looked down at her.

"But..." He sighed in defeat. It was a logical choice; he and Martha go one way, she and Shakespeare the other... he just didn't trust the poet with her. Despite that, he eventually relented. "All right. But be careful, and don't let any of them touch you. Don't let Shakespeare touch you!"

Amara laughed, running after Shakespeare. "Nonsense, I can't have my Spaceman getting all jealous! That would be sacrilege!"

Chasing after the poet, she found him moving to enter the Globe through the back entrance, heaving and spluttering as he braced himself on his knees to catch his breath. Evidently, the man harboured no talent in athletics. "I've never... ran like that... in... ages..."

"Yeah," Amara patted his on the back, helping him back stage. "With the Doctor there's always running. You grow to love it."

Straightening himself, Shakespeare sighed. "What do I do?" He asked, having not contemplating a way to successfully intervene.

"You're the author!"

Shakespeare rolled his eyes at her remark, "I know that but how?"

"Be Shakespearean!" Amara pushed him towards the stage, worried that they were desperately running out of time they didn't have the more William fussed over how to go about stopping the play.

"Oh, that's good." William flashed a grin at Amara, "I like it!"

"It's one of yours!"

"Mewling poor drooped men in stenched beds..."

Marching onto the stage, Shakespeare pushed through the arrangement of actors, bursting to the front. "Stop the play! I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but stop. This performance must end immediately!" He called out, concern lacing his words.

"Everyone's a critic." The actor, Dick, muttered as he rolled his eyes at William.

From the centre box, the two Carrionites, Bloodtide and Doomfinger hissed at the appearance of Shakespeare, "The wordsmith!" Bloodtide cried in outrage.

"Fear not." Doomfinger pulled out the very same dolly that had previously been used to control Shakespeare, "I have the doll." She smirked, holding the doll towards William.

"I'm sorry." William stuck his hands into the air as the audience booed, the echoing of disdainful abuse meeting his ears. "You'll get a refund. But this play must not be performed!" He called out again, his eyes widening with the sudden outrage from both cast and audience. His worry, however, was shortly lived as Doomfinger knocked the doll with her hand, causing Shakespeare to fall unconscious upon the stage in an exhausted heap.

"Is he drunk or what?" Kempe, another actor, whispered.

"Get him off the stage!" Dick ordered as the audience erupted with laughter while poor Shakespeare was carried off by fellow actors, vanishing from sight.

Rising to his feet, Kempe smiled nervously. "You must forgive our irksome Will... he's been on the beer and feeling ill."

Amara stared as the actors removed Shakespeare from the stage, setting the unconscious man down. Knocked out by his own actors? The Carrionites? Pinching the ridge of her nose in frustration, she glanced around the her, hoping to find something, anything, that she could use to stall time for the Doctor and Martha.

"You want something doing..." She steadied herself as she heard the bustle of the audience, cheering and groaning, or clapping at whatever was before them. "Just bloody do it yourself."

With a firm step in the right direction, she started up the stairs to the stage and threw open the doors, "Bonjourno, good day!" She held the rapier in the air, bowing to the audience, who watched in a mix buzz of surprise and confusion. "I blow you a kiss!" She grinned as she brought her hand to her mouth in greeting.

"Get off," Dick hissed.

"I am the zealous Zorro!" Amara announced to the audience, who seemed to cheer at the inclusion of the name. "Highborn spurned, I who is reborn will yet refrain, thou who is stubborn from thy own gain!"

Kempe and Dick made to grab her but Amara whacked them with the edge of the fencing sword, grinning. "En garde, man with the funny moustache! With thy skill, I will shave thou like the baby lamb thou is!"

"Gut them!" A man from the crowd shouted, raising his fist into the air among the other chants.

"What?" The two men gaped.

"The gentleman isn't wrong! I rather like the suggestion..." Amara grinned, tapping Dick on the shoulder. "I am more a man than ye."

"Who is this mortal?"

"She is a friend of this Doctor." Doomfinger hissed, reaching over the side of the box to stare at the woman prancing around the stage, distracting the actors as the audience laughed, cheering "Zorro".

Bloodtide shuddered, "We must stop her."

The Doctor frowned as he spun around, glancing at the street laden with houses, both big and small. "All Hallows Street, but which house?" He breathed out, turning in a full circle, scratching the back of his head in wonder.

"The thing is, though..." Martha trailed off, lost in sudden thought. "Am I missing something here?" She glanced over at the Doctor, "The world didn't end in 1599, it just didn't. Look at me, I'm living proof."

"Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux?" The Doctor frowned, walking over to Martha, pointing at her. "I know! "Back to the Future"! It's like "Back to the Future"!"

Martha frowned, "The film?"

"No, the novelisation." said the Doctor, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. "Yes, the film. Marty McFly goes back and changes history."

"And he starts fading away." Martha continued before a gasp left her mouth, her hands flying up in sudden realisation. "Oh my God, am I gonna fade?"

"You and the entire future of the human race. It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it. But which house?" He sighed deeply as his eyes surveyed the houses once again before the door to Lilith's house slowly opened in greeting. "Ah, make that witch house." Strolling off towards the house, he pulled Martha long with hi, smirking. "I take it we're expected."

"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time." A young witch, Lilith, announced softly as the Doctor appeared.

"Right then, it's my turn." Martha stepped past him, suddenly engulfed with an assertive confidence. "I know how to do this." She pointed at Lilith sternly, "I name thee, Carrionite!" Lilith merely stared at Martha who frowned, disappointed and disheartened. "What did I do wrong?" She retracted her finger, looking at the Doctor. "Was it the finger?"

"The power of a name works only once. Observe, "Lilith pointed at Martha, "I gaze upon this bag of bones and now..." She smirked, eyeing up Martha before she spoke. "I name thee Martha Jones."

Martha's legs gave out beneath her, the Doctor barely managing to catch her in his arms as he lowered her to the ground. He glared up at Lilith, seething, "What have you done?"

"Only sleeping, alas." Lilith remarked thoughtfully, "Curious, the name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time... and as for you, Sir Doctor!" She pointed at him, expecting him to crumple at the mention of his name, finding herself impressed to see him untouched. "Fascinating. There is no name. Why would a man hide his title in such despair?" Lilith smirked when she found something else, something lingering under the surface, a more meaningful name lurking there. "Oh, but look... there's still one word with the power that aches."

"The naming won't work on me."

Lilith smirked as she stared at him, "But your heart grows cold. The north wind blows and carries down the distant..." Her hands trailed off her body as she danced away, "Rose."

"Oh, big mistake 'cos that name keeps me fighting!" He strode towards her in a sudden fervent rage, ignoring any further attempts of seduction. "The Carrionites vanished! Where did you go?" The Doctor demanded through gritted teeth.

"The Eternals found the right word to banish us into deep darkness."

The Doctor frowned, "And how did you escape?"

"New words." She told him, her eyes staring after him as she moved around the room, putting a distance between them. "New and glittering from a mind like no other."

"Shakespeare." He breathed as Lilith smiled.

Her eyes found the cauldron where Shakespeare could be seen, weeping. "His son perished, the grief of a genius. Grief without measure." She explained with a soft sigh, "Madness enough to allow us entrance."

"How many of you?"

"Just the three." She admitted, her smile unwavering. "But the play tonight shall restore the rest. Then the human race will be purged as pestilence, and from this world we will lead the universe back to the old ways of blood and magic."

"Hmm..." The Doctor frowned, "Busy schedule... but first you got to get past me." He moved to stand face-to-face with Lilith, mere inches from her, so close that he could feel the soft tickling of her breath against his cheek.

"Oh, that should be a pleasure considering my enemy has such a handsome shape." She breathed, her words oozing with seduction as she ran her fingers along his face tenderly.

"Now, that's one form of magic that's definitely not gonna work on me."

"Oh, we'll see." She murmured, yanking a lock of hair from his head as she backed away.

The Doctor winced as he fingered his head, running a hand through it with a frown. "What did you do?"

"Souvenir."

"Well, give it back!" The Doctor started towards her as she threw her arms up and the window behind her jerked open, allowing her to fly out of it, levitating before him outside. Gaping, the Doctor frowned in annoyance, "Well, that's just cheating."

"Behold, Doctor." Lilith withdrew a doll and wrapped the lock of hair around it tightly, "Men to Carrionites are nothing but puppets."

"Now, you might call that magic..." The Doctor sighed in frustration as Martha gradually came around, "I'd call that a DNA replication module."

"What use is your science now?" Lilith hissed as she stabbed the doll with such a ferocity that the Doctor let out a cry of pain, falling to the floor while Lilith flew away, cackling.

Clambering to her feet, Martha rushed over to him, her face falling in horror. "Oh my God! Doctor... don't worry, I've got you," She rolled him over so he was led on his back, listening for a heartbeat before pulling away in recollection of his physiology. "Hold on, mister. Two hearts?"

"You're making a habit of this." He breathed, rising to his feet before stumbling as he cried out in a sudden pain, Martha supporting him. "I've only got one heart working... how do you people cope? I've got to get the other one started. Hit me! Hit me on the chest!" Martha him on the functioning side which roused another cry from the Time Lord, "Other side!" She hit him again and he groaned, "On the back, on the back!" Martha did as she was told, "Left a bit!" When she hit him, he stretched, spine cracking as he steadied himself.

"Ah, lovely." He groaned, standing, this time successfully. "There we go. Ba-da-boom!" He flashed her a grin, "Well, what are you standing there for? Come on! The Globe!" The Doctor rushed off with Martha following, rolling her eyes.

Sprinting through the streets, the Doctor darted down a street with a confused Martha following reluctantly, "We're going the wrong way!" She called, trying to get him to realise.

No, we're not!" He continued for a few more moments, allowing his feet to carry him before turning around and running back, "We're going the wrong way!"

Lilith, entering the box, seated herself between Doomfinger and Bloodtide, smiling devilishly as she looked down upon the stage. Doomfinger gazed at her expectantly, "The Doctor?"

"Dead." She affirmed as a frown crossed her face when she saw the play's progression being prevented, "What's happening?" She demanded, glancing between the two other witches on either side of her.

"It's the mortal..." Bloodtide pointed to Amara as she danced around the stage, "She's interfering with our work."

"Then we shall stop her."

"Puny men! To thine own self be true!" Amara sung, grinning widely as the audience cheered, eagerly encouraging her intervention, spurring her on surprisingly. "Thou will never abolish what may seem a shrew which ye already knew for thou are too few." She laughed, finding she rather liked rhymes, she enjoyed their simplicity and the enjoyment they crafted when spoken.

"Stop it!" Dick hissed lowly, his eyes glowing as he pushed her away. "Get off the stage, you're ruining the play!"

"Ye is meek as a leek, all thou needs is a tweak in the beak."

"For God's sake, stop!" Dick cried in utter outrage while the audience laughed at the remark.

Amara smiled, twirling as the audience cheered until a forceful gust knocked her backwards, her balance compromised as she fell backwards, twisting in free-fall before tumbling down the stairs leading to the stage.

Satisfied with the distraction having been handled, Dick smiled, "The ladies have prepared a show. Maria means to present Isis descending from the dewy orb of Heaven." He glanced behind him to see Kempe entering, "Ah, here comes Costard."

Kempe bowed as the audience cheered, "Masters!"

Dragging herself to her feet, Amara frowned as she wiped the drizzle of blood from her nose, frowning when she felt her lip throbbing. Looking up, she gritted her when she saw the final speech proceeding.

Pushing through the crowd, she found the stairs blocked from the vast turn out and sighed, wondering if her plight of a climb would be worth it with her throbbing her head.

"Behold the swainish sight of woman's love." Dick announced to the audience, smiling, "Pish! It's out of season to be heavy disposed."

Amara glanced back as Dick continued with his speech, pushing herself up on the ground level box, reaching to clasp the banister of the one above, hoisting herself up as she hooked her legs around the pillar.

"Betwixt Dravidian shores and Linear five-nine-three-zero-one-seven point zero-two..." He paused momentarily, a frown of bemusement crossing his face, not understanding what he was saying. "And strikes the fulsome grove of Rexel four. Co-radiating crystal, activate!"

"The portal opens! It begins!" Lilith exclaimed as the three of them cackled, Amara's head snapping up as screams erupted from behind her, a red glow of energy emanating from the centre of the Globe.

Coming to a sudden halt, the Doctor and Martha gaped as they rounded a corner to be met with a symphony of screams that were erupting from inside the Globe, a crimson glow of energy have collected above the Globe as a preacher ran towards them.

"I told thee so! I told thee!" He shouted as he ran by.

"Stage door!" The Doctor exclaimed, rushing towards the Globe as thunder began to sound, lightning flickering, churning the glow.

They arrived backstage to see Shakespeare rubbing his head with a befuddled look, "Stop the play!" The Doctor exclaimed as William winced, "I think that was it... yeah, I said, "Stop the play"!"

"I hit my head." He groaned, reaching up to rubbing his throbbing head, looking up at the Doctor and Martha.

"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald." He remarked before he realised that Amara wasn't there, she should have been there with him... so where was she? He could feel the panic beginning to rise within him, and he struggled to suppress it as he turned to slowly look at William with a firm, simmering look. "Where's Amara?"

William sighed, "She's fierce that one. Fantastic spirit."

The Doctor bared his teeth, "Where is she?!" He hissed as another chime of screams emerged from the stage, drawing his immediate attention. "I think that's my cue!" He turned to rush out, Martha helping Shakespeare as they made to follow him.

"The Doctor!" Lilith gasped in outrage, a dark look befalling her face. "He lives! Then watch this world become a blasted heath! They come! They come!"

"Sorry, pardon me." Amara frowned as she was met with the terrified gazes of the people in the middle box, stretching to grasp the top as she hoisted herself up. "How are you finding tonight's performance?" She ducked as the freed Carrionites flew out from the crystal, swiping past her to swim around the Globe.

Glancing around the Globe, his hearts climbed into his throat when he saw Amara climbing up the central columns to get to the top box where the Carrionites were seated, swinging onto the middle one. "No..." He murmured, concern flooding through him as he turned to grab Shakespeare. "Come on, Will! History needs you!"

"But what can I do?" William breathed, startled at the sight he was met with.

"Reverse it!" The Doctor implored.

He eyed the Time Lord, "How am I supposed to do that?"

Glancing over her shoulder, Amara blanched when she saw them gathered on the stage, talking rather than doing anything. "Anytime today!" She exclaimed over the uproar before reaching for the final box, kicking off the middle with a heavy sigh.

"The shape of the Globe gives words power, but you're the wordsmith, the one true genius." The Doctor encouraged firmly, "The only man clever enough to do it!"

"But what words? I have none ready!"

"You're William Shakespeare!" The Doctor breathed, his eyes widening still as the swarm grew.

"Be Shakespearean!" Amara hollered over her shoulder as she slipped, hooking her under the banister as she scrambled to pull herself up, wincing at the strain on her limbs, screaming from the exhaustion.

"Amara!" The Doctor called, alerting the Carrionites in the top box to her movements.

"But these Carrionite phrases, they need such precision!" Shakespeare argued.

The Doctor stared as Amara hooked herself over the box next to the top one, throwing herself over the top, "Trust yourself. When you're locked away in your room, the words just come, don't they?" He breathed, hooking William's attention. "Like magic. Words of the right sound, the right shape, the right rhythm, words that last forever! That's what you do, Will!" The Doctor told him, smiling as he urged him one, wanting to buy Amara more time. "You choose perfect words. Do it. Improvise!"

"I'd appreciate some improvisation right about now!" Amara shouted from the top of the Globe as Bloodtide turned to face her, "Great Scott, you lot are B-E-A-UTIFUL! I mean, look at your faces!" She exclaimed, edging back when the Carrionite pointed at finger at her.

"Kill her!" Lilith hissed.

Doomfinger cackled, "Do it now!"

Smirking, Bloodtide raised her hand as she pointed at Amara, awaiting as she hoped to install the woman with the fear of dying. "I name thee Amara!"

"Ah!" Amara clutched her chest, feigning pain as Lilith smirked before the Time Lady rolled her eyes, "Almost but no. Sorry..." She gave a sheepish smile.

Lilith hissed, scowling as she held Amara's gaze firmly before her eyes flickered to the edge of the box where she eyed a few strands of hair that had been caught as Amara forced herself over the box. "No matter," Lilith reached forward and grasped the strands of hair, wrapping them around the doll in Bloodtide's hand before forcing a pin into the doll's chest. "Death becomes you."

"That'll do it." Amara winced as she sunk to her knees, feeling her right heart cease in its rhythmic beating as she crumpled to the floor.

Losing sight of Amara, the Doctor's hearts leapt into his throat. "Now, Will!"

Sucking in a deep breath, William nodded. "Close up this den of hateful, dire decay!" He turned to the swarm, "Decomposition of your witches' plot! You thieve my brains, consider me your toy. My doting Doctor tells me I am not!" He flashed a wink at the Time Lord.

"No!" Lilith cried out, "Words of power!"

"Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points..." He trailed off, looking towards the Doctor for help.

"Seven-six-one-three-nine-zero!"

"Seven-six-one-three-nine-zero! And banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee..." His eyes flew to the Doctor once again, who was at a loss, the Time Lord looking to Martha.

Martha shouted the first thing that sprung into mind: "Expelliarmus!"

"Expelliarmus!" The Doctor hollered with a laugh.

"Expelliarmus!" William finished, his hand outstretched.

"Good old JK!" The Doctor beamed as he looked up at the dispersing swarm.

The Carrionites wailed as their numbers dwindled, "The deep darkness! They are consumed!" Lilith cried out as the Carrionites were sucked into the cloud like a vacuum, copies of play swirling around the Globe as they danced up into the cloud.

""Love's Labours Won"." The Doctor sighed softly, watching the cloud dissipate. "There it goes."

Miraculously, the audience breathed in relief and gradually, collectively, began to applaud as Shakespeare took Martha's hand, bowing.

Coughing, Amara banged on the right side of her chest before only just managing to smack herself on the back several times to get her right heart going again. With all the strength she could muster, Amara hauled herself over and rolled onto her back.

Reaching for the crystal, she stared at the three Carrionites trapped within, breathing heavily. "Veni. Vidi. Amavi." Amara sighed, allowing her head to hit the floor as the pounding of footsteps rattled her brains.

"'Mara!" A pair of hands pulled her upright as the Doctor's face appeared, his concerned expression screaming as he stared at her. "Are you all right?" He breathed out when he saw her bloodied face properly as she struggled to stand solely, using him to help her.

"There's two of you, but that doesn't mean you're twice as handsome." Amara admitted with a slight smile as the Doctor chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist to support her.

Amara smiled softly as she watched William dote upon Martha, attempting to kiss her as he flirted, thought failing to his disappointment.

Rubbing her face, she winced when she recalled the bloody state she was in as she held the crystal in her hands, brow furrowed when she looked down at the encased Carrionites, she felt slightly better.

"Good props store back there!" came the thrilled voice belonging to the Doctor as he emerged from backstage, wearing a ruff collar and carrying a rather large animal skull. "I'm not sure about this though," He commented, frowning at the skull. "Reminds me of a Sycorax... what d'you think, 'Mara?"

The woman tilted her head, "Don't remind me," She groaned, not wanting to recall the time in which she had almost been sold to a Sycorax.

"Sycorax." William murmured thoughtfully, "Nice word, I'll have that off you as well."

"I should be on ten percent." The Doctor countered, her eyes gliding to Amara as she approached the stage.

"How's your head?" She asked him as William looked over at her, wincing at the sight of her face.

"Still aching." He told her softly, "Though, I doubt it's as bad as that..."

Amara shrugged as the Doctor removed the collar from his neck to pass it to the poet, "Here, I got you this," He tied the collar around Shakespeare's neck. "Neck brace, wear that for a few days till it's better, although you might want to keep it."

"It suits you," Amara complimented, smiling.

Martha looked to the Doctor, "What about the play?" She wondered, still hoping.

"Gone." The Doctor gave a shrug of his shoulders, "I looked all over, every single copy of "Love's Labours' Won" went up in the sky."

"My lost masterpiece." He breathed, lamenting over the loss of the play.

"You could write it up again." Martha suggested, making Amara chuckled while the Doctor's eyes widened.

"Yeah, better not, Will." The Doctor advised, eyeing Martha for a moment as William turned to look at him. "There's still power in those words, maybe it should best stay forgotten."

"Oh, but I've got new ideas." He smiled to himself, "Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons. In memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet."

"Hamnet?" Martha repeated, raising an eyebrow at him.

"That's him."

"Ham-net?" Martha asked again.

William glanced at her, frowning, "What's wrong with that?"

"Anyway, time we were off." The Doctor announced, "I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot" he gestured to the crystal ball in Amara's hands, "can scream for all eternity and I've got to take Martha back to Freedonia."

"You mean travel on through time and space." William pressed, arching a brow.

The Doctor blinked, startled and absolutely stunned, "You what?"

"You're from another world like the Carrionites and Martha is from the future. Though, I'm not too sure about Amara, she's hard to make out, a mixture of the impossible." He smiled in amusement at the three of them, "It's not hard to work out."

"Touché." Amara grinned despite the ache in her face.

"That's..." The Doctor was stunned, utterly surprised that William knew, that he had clocked them, though they hadn't been very incognito about it. "Incredible. You are incredible."

"Well, the physic paper failed," Amara told the Doctor, "Why are you so surprised?"

"We're alike in many ways, Doctor." William commented with a smile before turning his attention back to Martha, "Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my Dark Lady." The Doctor scoffed, rolling his eyes as William ignored him. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate..."

"Will! Will!" Kempe called suddenly, running up the group, eyeing Amara as they strode past her. "You'll never believe it! She's here! She's turned up!"

"We're the talk of the town." Dick announced with a wide grin, "She heard about last night! She wants us to perform it again."

"Who?" Martha frowned.

"Her Majesty! She's here!"

At the entrance to the Globe, a symphony of trumpets erupted in unison as Queen Elizabeth the first entered, striding with a firm assertiveness.

"Queen Elizabeth the first!" The Doctor exclaimed, practically squealing with delight.

However, Elizabeth's eyes immediately widened in fury when they landed upon the Time Lord who was stood in awe, "Doctor!"

"What..."

"Why am I not surprised?" Amara sighed, rolling her eyes.

"My sworn enemy!" Elizabeth asserted curtly, pointing accusingly at the Time Lord who had been rendered speechless.

The Doctor gaped, "What?"

"What did you do?" Amara demanded, backing away as guards marched in, filing behind her.

"Off with his head!" She ordered immediately as the guards began to ascend on them from where they stood froze to where they stood, almost too frightened to move.

"What?" He repeated breathlessly.

"Never mind "what", just run!" Martha jumped to her feet as she flew past William, "See you, Will! And thanks!" She called after him as she joined the Doctor who was following Amara as they ran from the stage.

"Stop that pernicious Doctor!" Elizabeth exclaimed in outrage as Shakespeare laughed jubilantly as the predicament unfolded before his very eyes.

Darting down the street, Amara led them through the labyrinth that was London until she saw caught the familiar sight of the police box in the distance. "Stop in the name of the Queen!" a distant cry echoed as it reached their ears.

"What have you done to upset her?!" Martha demanded, barely managing to keep up as they rushed along the crowded streets, hearing the shouts from the guards in the distance.

"How should I know?" The Doctor countered with a shrug as he pushed through the crowds, "Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you! Still, can't wait to find out." He grinned as he skidded to a stop, rooting around for the key to unlock the TARDIS, ushering Martha inside as Amara followed. "That's something to look forward to!"

"Hurry up!" Amara shouted as she saw an archer, "Duck!"

"Oh!" He ducked inside as the arrow shot through the air, embedding itself in the door as he rushed to the console, flicking and pressing, pushing several buttons as the TARDIS shifted. "That was a close call!"

Martha stared at him with bug eyes, her heart beating frantically, "Almost too close." She glowered at him before she turned to look at Amara, "Let me see to that cut."

"It's just a cut, Martha." She rolled her eyes when the Doctor returned with a first aid kit, opening it for Martha, "It's fine." She couldn't risk either of them getting too close to her, and she couldn't risk either one of them taking her pulse or listening to her chest.

"What happened out there?" Martha eyed for a moment, looking to the Doctor a few seconds later. "Can I have your stethoscope?" She smiled when he passed it to her without arguing. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No," Amara stood up, her tone uncharacteristically harsh and she winced, "I'm fine, don't worry." She amended, though from the look Martha was giving, she knew that she'd given her a reason to not believe her. "Look, I tried to stop the play."

"I never asked for you to endanger yourself like that." The Doctor frowned, crossing his arms, oddly moved by how far she went to help. It was still odd, unsettling... "They named you, didn't they?"

"Yeah," She gave a nod, though she knew Martha knew she was lying. She'd slipped up, so simply by an action. "It wasn't like Will was going to be much help, was it? I managed to get in a few good rhymes as well, so no complaints there..."

The Doctor sighed and ceased in persisting to question her, though she felt Martha's lingering gaze and she knew that eventually the time would come to have to expose herself to the Time Lord's companion, even if it meant keeping the Doctor in the dark. Martha Jones was someone who could be trusted, but Amara didn't entirely trust just yet.

She'd trusted before, human, and they had exploited her trust and ruined her, condemned her. She knew that Martha wasn't anything like them, but she would wait... wait until she had seen Martha's true spirit before telling the woman anything of significance, and she didn't know how long it would be before such a thing came to pass.

She hoped it wouldn't be for quite some time, so she could prepare and fortify a plan to explain herself. And when she did tell, if she told her, she would have to ensure Martha kept it from the Doctor. He couldn't know of anything until the appropriate time arrived. Until then, he would continue to believe he was alone. That was paramount. If that failed, then her hard work would be for naught.

Her perseverance would be nothing. Not until she found him... once she had achieved her purpose, then he could know. He could know everything and anything about her... just not yet, as cruel as it was, he would have to wait.