Tob wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at the sky. It was midday and the hours he had spent gathering food had not been as fruitful as yesterday. The large hessian satchel slung over his shoulder contained barely enough nuts, berries, grains, mushrooms and insects for one day's meals. Things were getting tougher every year.

He removed the satchel, tossed it onto the ground and was about to sit in the shade of the wheat and the weeds when he heard a cry. It was coming from the direction of the tomb.

A woman was running towards him. Behind her, something in the shimmering distance moved and caught the sunlight. A piercing flash momentarily obscured his vision, then he recognised the face of Jood, a woman from the encampment. Her golden braids danced in the panicked sprint. He ran to meet her.

"The dragon! I've seen the dragon!"

She ran to his arms, out of breath and wild with terror.

Tob looked towards the tomb. Its gold shone the way it did every noonday, but there was something else, something silver.

"What were you doing there?"

"Looking for Bel and Gog. I went to make an offering at the tomb and to watch it for the day, but somebody has broken in. I stepped inside and the dragon from the song of Avram was waiting for me. He has burning green eyes. He's terrible to see."

"What did he do?" asked Tob, trying to comfort Jood with one eye yet on the shape across the field. She was finding it difficult to speak, so he sat her in the shade and offered her some water.

"He told me that the Catchers are coming."

"That sounds like a warning rather than a threat. What did you do?"

"Nothing. I ran. But he must have the children!" She burst into tears.

"Did you see them?"

"No. But it was dark inside. Their father was taken six years ago and our mother died from the grief. I promised I would look after them. I promised!"

"Jood, the Catchers aren't due again for another ten years. We have guarded Avram's tomb faithfully for centuries. Why would his servant tell us they are coming early if he wasn't trying to protect us?"

She looked up at him with little comprehension of his logic.

"We must go and speak with him," he announced.

"I couldn't. I'm too afraid."

The crackling sound of wheat stalks underfoot came from behind and a great shadow was cast across them. Jood screamed. The silhouette of Draco's magnificent head and armoured shoulders eclipsed the sun, which gave his form a fiery aura. In his deep whisper, he announced a potent hybrid of news, prophecy and imperative:

Flesh and blood awakes
and the locusts approach.
You must warn the people.
Hide them from the sky
until the Healer sees the way
and restores for us the crowned heads.
But first come to the Healer
and shelter under his wings.

Draco moved and full sunlight filled their vision. They turned their heads away, and when they looked back he was nowhere to be seen. Tob turned to the tomb just in time to see a silver shape vanish through the doorway.

Jood was beyond panic now, almost senseless, but Tob's sunburnt and sinewy embrace had calmed her breathing.

"We must follow him," offered Tob. He stood up and gently raised her to his side.

Neither Tob nor the dreadful silver herald was making much sense, but for Jood it was a comforting change to follow a man with a plan.

.

.

The Doctor felt an affectionate kiss on his forehead. He recognised Clara's delightful perfume.

He realised that he was now sitting upright. He opened his eyes but all was darkness.

"Clara? How am I?"

"Better than ever. Even better than clever."

Suddenly, the darkness before him opened like giant curtains. It was, in fact, giant curtains. The Doctor looked out into Avram's Great Hall. Seven giant masks, all similar to the one worn by Jason, yet each one unique, and all in a line, stared with their sightless eyes across the room at him from high on the opposite wall. Below them, Avram seemed oblivious to this revelation of the Doctor as he guided Deimos and Phoebe around the Circle of Artefacts with a live commentary.

"Clara. Am I sitting on a golden throne?"

"Yes, Doctor."

"Why?"

"Avram says you passed the test with flying colours. He won't tell me what it was, but he did say you are twice the man he thought you were."

A compact makeup mirror was thrust before his face. Not only did this confirm in a greater way that the Doctor still possessed his own eyes, it revealed the golden dot now painted under each of them, and the large almond-shaped eye of wisdom upon his forehead.

"Looks like you are the golden boy after all," she smiled, and made her way down the seven or eight steps to the floor of the hall."

"Well, all I can say is it's very good to see you."

"Come and have something to drink. Apparently you need it."

"Oi, Avram," the Doctor called out, rudely. His spiel interrupted, the king turned to him with his eyebrows raised.

"I still consider you my friend, but you are scarier than any villain I have ever come across. You make the Time Lords look like amateurs."

The king walked to the bottom of the stairs and bowed his head.

"Doctor, since I am your friend, I beg your indulgence and understanding."

"Certainly, but an explanation for what I just experienced would go a long way towards us being best buddies."

"It was necessary not only to prove your exemplary character, Doctor, but also to discern whether you were indeed an impostor. Very little on Protos is as it seems."

The Doctor backed down a little. "Well, I appreciate the golden eye but it had better rub off."

The king raised his head, then raised both arms with open hands to welcome the Doctor and point him to the generous fare arranged upon a long golden table.

"I hope your wisdom and good character do rub off. I am in desperate need of your help."

"What do you mean?"

The king seated himself at the head. The Doctor seated Clara and the children, and then himself at the other end, facing the king. The children looked at each other as if to say, "More wonderful food," and began to tuck in.

"Doctor and Clara, my new friends, Jason still needs your eyes and your hearts."

"Hmm. I can see that life with Avram is never boring," the Doctor remarked very loudly in Clara's direction.

"Just like you," smirked Clara. "Is he your dad? If he isn't, he should be."

The Doctor filled Clara's goblet, then his own, and lifted it towards the masks on the wall. "Are these the 'sons of terror,' the brothers who poisoned your protégé?"

"Yes, Doctor."

Avram seemed a little sheepish. Understandably, the Doctor was becoming more and more wary of what he might have gotten himself into.

"What happened to these brothers?"

"As I explained, they were jealous of their youngest sibling and disabled him. Their success in overturning my succession plans gave them greater confidence. They saw my love for Jason demonstrated as I spent my days seeking a cure and developing technologies to keep him alive. Ever cunning, they saw in this technology a means of extending life, of potential immortality. They imprisoned me, poached my discoveries and secured the planet. They isolated it from its sister worlds, from any kind of trade, and condemned it to a slow descent into barrenness. Then they began a campaign of conquest. They would not be content with my gifts to them, but demanded greater and greater power. In this process they lost their souls. And I fear they are guilty of even greater crimes."

"So, where are they now?"

The golden double doors opened, and Draco entered the hall with Tob in tow. He was relieved to see the children not only alive and well, but eating a king's lunch. He introduced himself and bowed before Avram, his gaze distracted but maintaining a well-trained aversion from the eyes of the king.

"Great father, please tell me what's going on. Your servant says the Catchers are coming, but it's not their time. The older sister of these children is waiting upstairs sick with worry for them. We are terrified. Please help us!"

As the king apologised to the young man, mentioning that the Doctor and Clara were willing to help, the entire building began to shake. It was a low vibration but the rumble was audible — and increasing — like a progression of rolling tremors before an earthquake.

"They're coming," shouted the king. He made his way hurriedly towards the stairs. "Follow me!"

Avram, the Doctor and Clara, Tob and the children walked out of the tomb into a noonday that was being devoured. A dark cloud on the horizon was steadily growing into what appeared to be the the blackest storm front possible, an enormous shape with random spikes of unnatural lightning. It was rotating slowly, which gave some indication of its incredible scale. As it fattened and arched, it became apparent that its vortex was not horizontal but vertical. Lightning bolts performed a macabre dance inside its gaping, billowing mouth. Flocks of terrified birds fled overhead as the rumble increased. The cloud cut a striking contrast across the golden sky.

Jood was standing motionless before it. It was just as she remembered from her childhood, when her father was taken. She turned and saw her siblings, and ran to them with tears and cries of relief. At least they were safe from the oncoming terror.

"What is it, Avram?"

"It's the Catchers," said Tob with wide eyes and a slackening jaw. "They've come once again to harvest the men."

Draco placed a claw on Tob's shoulder and he pulled himself together.

"I just learned about the king's mines. I must get the men to the mines!"

"Here," said the Doctor in a voice raised to compensate for the increasing din. He asked Clara for her headset and handed it to Tob. "Take this. I'll contact you. Be safe."

Without a word, Tob took it, expressed his thanks with a terrified smile and a gasp, and darted into the wheat field. The Doctor turned to Avram.

"So, what is going to happen? You said you needed my help. Is this a game of chess that has gone horribly wrong?"

"They know I have escaped my prison. It is my own errant children who are the guardians of Protos. They are the sons of terror."

"What do they want?" asked Clara.

"I'm not certain. Perhaps nothing. Perhaps everything."

The rumbles were gathering themselves into a frightening beat, the sound of a thunderous pile driver, or the steps of an approaching giant.

"I could take you all away from here, you know," reminded the Doctor.

"I will not leave Jason," remarked Avram, briefly closing his eyes. "And I assure you, Doctor, this will not be a contest of might."

Great metal ships appeared in the vortex. Avram ushered everyone back inside the tomb and Draco closed the outer door. Avram continued,

"When they come, we will have no defence but our wits."