Lucy awoke for the third time this week drenched in a cold sweat. Since Calista's wedding, she and the Doctor had done a whole lot of nothing. Mostly, they traveled around to different bits of history, touching on all the places Lucy had wanted to see.
At Woodstock, Jimmy Hendrix had thrown her a guitar pick. During the Italian Renaissance, they had seen firsthand the works of Bernini, Botticelli and Da Vinci. They'd heard Gandhi speak in India and then waltzed off to Santorini just for the hell of it. There had been some sad moments, there always were. They'd witnessed the Blitz of WWII. The Doctor had told her about when he'd been there the first time round. They'd also seen civil unrest in Israel. But all that was nothing compared to the nightmares Lucy had been having.
Gone were the dreams of mirrors and doors. Now, she dreamt of clocks that ticked so loudly she thought her eardrums might burst. And there was always this nagging sensation that she was running out of time. But for what? Her dreams took her all over the world, all over the universe, but no matter where she went or what she was doing, she was hard pressed and frantic. And then, at the end of every dream, she heard the Life Matter again, in that voice that was like hers, yet so different. "Life as you know it will change forever." When it had first spoken to her, it had seemed wise and all-knowing. In her dreams, however it seemed foreboding and threatening. Every syllable was like a death sentence. She always woke up with that voice ringing in her ears.
Lucy sat up and rested her elbows on her knees, the heels of her hands pressed into her eye sockets. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to clear the latest images from her mind. No use. She decided to get up and looked over at her table clock. Even real clocks gave her the creeps now. It was 4:35 a.m. Fantastic, she thought.
Rising, Lucy crossed on silent feet to her armoire and opened the doors. She selected a silvery grey dress that came to her knees. Under that, she put on black leggings and around her waist, she buckled a wide black belt. She slid her feet into silver ballet flats and braided her hair to the side. Lucy sighed, looking in the mirror. It held absolutely no horror for her now. Briefly, she touched her reflection, wondering if either one of them was real. Enough, she thought. Lucy collected herself and walked down the dark hallway to the main room of the T.A.R.D.I.S. Empty, yet comforting. Lucy looked wistfully round herself and longed for the Doctor to be up. As if he could read her thoughts, his face appeared in the doorway. She could barely see him in the dark, but could tell that he was smiling and that his hair was standing up in all directions. She smiled back at him and laid her hand on the control panel. Instantly, the ship sprang to life, though still dark and the two of them could feel the lift off and the hurtling through time and space.
Lucy looked up at the Doctor, horrified. What had she done? How could she have done? He stumbled over to her and looked the ship up and down. All the lights were still off, but there was no mistaking it; they were going somewhere.
"How did you do that?" he asked voice quite urgent.
"I've no idea, Doctor. All I did was touch the panel here and it just, I dunno, took off! I was just going to ask you how I did it."
"If you even did do it. Maybe the T.A.R.D.I.S was acting of her own accord. She does that sometimes." Lucy bit her lip, eyes wide. In no time at all, just as suddenly as they had started, they stopped. The ship thudded as it connected to whatever ground was under it. Where ever they were, they had arrived. Lucy and the Doctor looked at each other.
"Well, what do you say, Miss Blake? We're here, we might as well…."
"Investigate?" Lucy asked. The Doctor shot her a crooked grin and dashed to the doors. He was already outside when Lucy collected herself again and followed him.
Outside, it looked as though it should still be half four in the morning. But there were already people up, dressed in 17th century clothing. This looked for all the world like a colonial settlement and Lucy knew she would stand out with what she was wearing. She and the Doctor walked forward. The first house they came upon, there was a woman standing outside with her young daughter. They were talking in hushed voices as they chopped firewood, and the girl, Lucy could tell was fighting back tears. Lucy did not wait for the Doctor, but instead walked straight over to the girl and her mother. They both looked up as the strangers approached. The woman made the sign of the cross and both looked scandalized taking in Lucy's peculiar style. "Sorry," said Lucy, "but I couldn't help but notice that you seemed upset. Is there anything me and my friend can do to help?"
The older woman would say nothing, but the young girl, seventeen by the looks of her said, "It's my friend Mary Driscoll. Last night, they took her away and they're trying her today. She doesn't stand a chance." The poor girl's voice was shaking.
"But what is she being tried for?" Lucy asked, afraid she already knew the answer.
The mother crossed herself again and the girl looked puzzled. She lowered her head and spoke in a hushed voice, "Witchcraft, of course."
"Okay, okay. Can you tell me your name? And, and where we are? My friend and I have been traveling for a long time."
"I'm Louisa Banks, m'am. And this is Salem, Massachusetts."
Lucy reeled, she knew it. The Doctor was at her side in a flash, tugging on her shoulder. Lucy moved aside and he said, "Louisa, I'm the Doctor and I can help. Will you tell me where the meeting house is? And where they're holding Mary?"
Louisa gave a soft sob and pointed down the road, where they would have headed, "The meeting house is at the very end of this street and they're all in there, in the basement. Please, Doctor, can you save her?" The Doctor gave her a sympathetic glance and said,
"I'll do my best." Then he and Lucy were off down the road, fire in their footsteps.
"Doctor?" Lucy asked, "Witches aren't real, are they? I mean, they're not aliens or anything, right?"
"Sort of. There is a race of aliens called Carrionites. They actually started the Salem Witch Trials, but they're long gone by now. They were the real witches, but when it came time for the town to take action, they framed other people. I met them before, in England, but we won't have to deal with them this time."
"Just an ignorant, bloodthirsty town is all." Lucy said darkly. The Doctor nodded and wordlessly, they both quickened their pace.
"When does it end, Doctor? How many have died already?"
"From the feel of the air, it's almost October. That means that the twenty people have already been killed. For all intents and purposes, the Salem Witch Hunt is over. But not completely."
Lucy thought she might be sick. She remembered learning about this in Grammar School. An entire town succumbed to lies and rumours, fueled by dramatic accounts of the "innocent" accusers. Basically, twenty people had died because a couple of girls were bored.
The sun was just beginning to show its head when they reached the end of the street and the meeting house. The sky had already turned a dusty pink fringed with pale gold. The pleasant weather betrayed the oppressive demeanour of the entire town. Looking round, Lucy noticed that she and the Doctor were not the only ones heading toward the meeting house. Pious vultures gathered their children around them, speaking barely above a whisper. Everywhere assurances of guilt, of retribution, of purification echoed in Lucy's ringing ears. She might be sick.
Upon entering the door, Lucy looked up at the Crucifix and wondered what was holy about all this. She and the Doctor took their seat in the very back row, he leading her gently with a hand on the small of her back. The whole settlement was filing in after them; excitement and fear alight in their eyes. All too soon, a menacing looking judge, whom if Lucy remembered correctly was Judge Hathorn, sauntered in. His eyes were sunken and black, his skin sallow, and like aged paper. She wondered if he had ever smiled. She wondered if he thought smiling a sin. He made Lucy want to jump up and start screaming "prophecies" about the future. She wanted to run back to the T.A.R.D.I.S., grab her ipod and blast electronic devil music as loudly as she could. She wanted to run away and leave this place forever. But mostly, she wanted to help, to end the madness.
"Silence." Judge Hathorn called out to the room. His voice was every bit as creepy and decrepit as his appearance. "Bring forth the accused." Through an oaken door to his left came two guards leading a young girl in chains. Lucy saw that like her friend Louisa, Mary Driscoll looked no older than seventeen. Her eyes were red, presumably from crying. She looked as though she had been kept in the dank basement for weeks. Lucy hated to imagine the conditions in which she'd been kept.
Mary took her seat facing the crowd that hated her. All waited with bated breath for the Judge to begin what everyone knew would end in a death sentence.
"Mary Elizabeth Driscoll, aged seventeen, you are brought before this court on 25th September, the Year of Our Lord 1692. You have been accused of witchcraft. Three weeks prior to this date, Goodwife Downs said she saw you spit near her chicken coup and that the next day, all were dead. Having no family, you have been forced to live on your own, working as an apprentice for Lydia Samuels, the weaver. Mrs. Samuels has fallen ill and could not come to the meeting house today, so there is no one to testify for you. Is that correct?"
Mary Driscoll looked as though she might burst into tears then and there. Lucy saw Louisa look back at her and the Doctor with pleading eyes. The Doctor had said he could help. Lucy looked at him. They could claim responsibility and then run away, escape forever. But what was to stop Salem from ever halting its witch hunt? They couldn't trust that history would take its natural course if they intervened.
"Miss Driscoll, is this correct?" Hathorn said again, more severely.
Standing up at the back of the house, Lucy said in a clear voice. "Make her say the Lord's Prayer." Every head turned to look at this loud young woman who dared to speak in the presence of men.
Judge Hathorn turned his eye on Lucy and she felt chilled to the bone. Surely this man had no soul, or if he did, it was buried deep, deep inside.
"And who are you to suggest this?"
"I'm Lucy Blake, sir, a…a certified Witch Hunter and this is the Doctor. Witches can't say the Lord's Prayer, so make her say it. That will prove it once and for all." Lucy remembered hearing something about it, or maybe she'd seen that on the telly. At any rate, it seemed to have worked. As Lucy sat back down, the Doctor leaned in and said,
"Certified Witch Hunter? You could have at least grabbed the psychic paper from me and showed that to him, he's thick enough to trust whatever it says."
"It was the best I could do at the spur of the moment, all right? And anyway, look, it's worked."
Judge Hathorn had just told Mary Driscoll to recite the Lord's Prayer. In a very shaky voice, but with a look of gratitude toward Lucy, she said,
"Our, our Father, who art in Heaven, h-hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on Earth as…as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us f-from evil. For Thine is the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory forever and ever. A-amen." A stunned silence filled the makeshift court as the young girl recited the prayer perfectly. For a moment, even Hathorn didn't know what to do. Mary Driscoll looked round, begging with her eyes to be set free and declared innocent.
When he spoke, his words filled Lucy with cold dread. "I have no choice to but come to the conclusion that Mary Driscoll is indeed a witch." The entire gathering gasped and Mary in fact crumpled to tears there on the stand. Lucy's eyes widened and she looked at the Doctor, shocked. He gave her no answer, but pointed up to Hathorn.
"I declare that the one who calls herself Lucy Blake is also a witch and that her companion is the Devil himself. They must have fed Mary Driscoll the answers through their Black Magic." Lucy's mouth fell open as the town turned to them, fear rampant in their expressions. Wasting no time, she and the Doctor rose. Lucy was about to make for the door, but the Doctor headed instead for the stand. Eyes wide, Lucy watched him pull Mary Driscoll from her chair and dashed with her down the aisle. Where he was met with opposition, Lucy strode forward and spit and the feet of the townspeople. They backed away from her immediately and soon, the three accused were out in the early morning sun. Mary was still crying as she ran beside them. Everyone else had gathered at the door of the meeting house and merely watched them run away. Lucy thought as they ran, that perhaps Hathorn would declare to them that by calling out the Devil, he had banished him and all the witches from the land. It made her want to haunt him.
"Please, sir, where are you taking me?" Mary cried. Lucy pulled on the Doctor's shoulder, telling him to stop. He did and Lucy stepped forward. She took Mary by the hands and said as kindly as she could,
"Mary, my name really is Lucy and this is the Doctor. We're not witches or the Devil, we're help. We're going to take you away, somewhere else where you can start a new life. Is that all right with you, or would you rather stay here?"
"No, no m'am, I'll go with you. Anything to be away from Salem." Lucy nodded and the three of them walked quite easily the rest of the way to the T.A.R.D.I.S. When Mary saw it, she turned to Lucy again for explanation.
"Mary, this is…a ship. But it goes in the sky and it goes very fast. We'll take you in it, it's bigger than it seems and you'll be somewhere else in no time flat. Do you trust me?"
"Of course." Mary offered. Lucy smiled at her and led her by the hand into the doors the Doctor had already opened. Mary marveled at all the metal and bizarre contraptions. When the ship took off, she fell clear to the floor and laughed. Lucy helped her up and just as she had said, they'd landed in no time flat. The Doctor walked ahead of them and opened the doors again.
"Mary Driscoll, this is Virginia. It's beautiful here, everything you could ever want. Start your life over here." He told her. Mary smiled her thanks to him as she walked outside. The air here was less heavy and the sun was climbing. Lucy stood in the doorway with the Doctor, and waved goodbye. Mary had started off on her way when she turned back.
"Lucy!"
"What is it, Mary?"
"It's going to happen soon. Everything you are will be put to the test. I'm going to change my life here. But you are going to change in so many ways, Lucy Blake. I only hope that you survive these trials. Thank you both for everything." Mary Driscoll turned and never looked back.
She had no way to see Lucy's stunned face, the springing of tears to her eyes. She couldn't see the Doctor's frown, couldn't see his eyes filled with worry. There was no way she saw the Doctor put his arm round Lucy and pull her back inside his ship, comforting her. But Lucy thought that she knew anyway.
"Why do all these people keep talking about this, Doctor? Everyone knows something that I don't, and I don't like it! Everywhere I go, people seem to know my destiny, but they don't tell me enough! I keep having dreams about what the Life Matter told me, but in these dreams, they sound like threats."
"I couldn't tell you, Lucy. I don't know any more than you do. I've wondered about it a lot, but I have no answers. I'm sorry." He looked it. His eyes were wide and seemed to be searching frantically for something, for any answer that would ease her fears.
Lucy shook her head and said, "I'm not going to let this interfere with my life, okay? I'm Lucy Blake, and I'm going to stay that way as long as I can." The Doctor looked up at her and grinned.
"Why yes you are."
"I wonder why Hathorn thought you were the devil incarnate. Just convenient, I suppose?"
"Maybe. And the funny thing is, I think we may have put an official end to the Salem Witch Hunt."
"You know, I think I thought the same thing. I thought maybe that Hathorn would tell everyone that he'd banished us and that their troubles were over."
"The power of a crowd is great. If one person starts to believe him, they all will."
"Maybe that's all anybody needs. One person says something about another and then it spreads. Then so many people are saying it, it seems like it's always been true. Rumours spread quickly and grow in scope. People interpret facts to fit their own conclusions. But I love them, Doctor. I love all those people for all their stupidity. Well, okay, I love people individually, but in crowds, they're total gits." The Doctor laughed and the two of them sat down to plot their next adventure. The future could wait, because Lucy was determined to be Lucy. No rumour would get in the way of that.