Storms of Fire: Awakening

by WyvernHandler

Second in the Storms of Fire Saga. Ember has to deal with a lot; jumping up and down the Doctor’s timeline, discovering powers that she must learn to control, and trying to uncover her unknown origins. And now she has two more dilemmas: not only has she been developing feelings for the Time Lord, she must now live with the idea that she failed him. Or does she?

15. Chapter Fifteen: The Shakespeare Code

And here's one of my favourite episodes! Hope you enjoy!

As for my previous question about adding mature scenes (well, the smut, in other words), I've had several replies from you which have helped immensely. I've decided to write the whole scene, but depending on how long it ends up being, I might have to put it in a separate fic to make it easier for those who want to skip it.

I will warn you, however, that there will be mentions of certain details that occur 'behind closed doors'. Some of them are rather innocent, but there will be ones that are a little more detailed.

But don't worry: it's not going to be for a while yet, but I'll definitely put up a warning nearer the time.

Until then, enjoy!

Oh, speaking of warnings; there's gonna be swearing in this one.

---

Chapter 15: The Shakespeare Code

---

When Ember jumped next, she ended up in the Tardis mid-flight, which left her having to scramble for something to hold on to. Unfortunately, she crashed into someone first, and she looked up in time to see Martha Jones looking back at her with wide eyes. "Hi, Martha."

"How did you do that?" Martha asked. "You just vanished and now you've reappeared with different clothes!"

Ember glanced down at her grey jeans, red top and denim jacket topped off with combat boots, and then she looked around the main coloumn of the console to see the Tenth Doctor on the other side, grinning at her. "Her first trip?"

"Yep!" The Doctor chirped, popping the 'p' as he moved to turn a handle. "Martha, I told you, Ember jumps through time. Kinda like the Tardis, except it's just her."

Martha looked at at the rotor, seeing what looked like pistons going up and down. "But how does she jump? And how do you travel in time? What makes it go?"

"Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything. Martha, you don't want to know. It just does. Hold on tight!"

Ember grabbed on to the console next to the would-be doctor. "Martha, to explain how this ship works, I'd need a few years, a lot of diagrams and the manual, but we kinda don't have any of those to hand right now. I can give you a short version later?"

Martha didn't get the chance to answer that, because there was a thump that sent them to the floor. "Blimey! Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?"

"Yes, and I failed it. Dunno about Ember." The Doctor said, moving to grab a red jacket to toss over to Martha before he grabbed his own trench coat. "Now, make the most of it. I promised you one trip, and one trip only." He moved to the doors "Outside this door... brave new world."

"Where are we?"

"Take a look." The Doctor opened the door. "After you."

Ember let Martha go ahead of her, though the Doctor waited for the brunette before he stepped out himself, and the three of them took in the sight of a cobble stoned street with washing lines hanging below overhanging eaves, lamps lit with candles and lots of people in Elizabethan garb walking around.

"Oh, you are kidding me." Martha said in disbelief S she looked around. "You are so kidding me. Oh, my God, we did it. We travelled in time. Where are we? No, sorry. I got to get used to this; whole new language. When are we?"

The Doctor looked up just in time, and pulled the two ladies back as some... something Ember didn't want to identify landed on the street from above.

"Mind the loo!" A man called, having been the one to empty a bucket out of his window.

"Somewhere... before the invention of the toilet." The Doctor said with a wince. "Sorry about that."

Martha waved him off. "I've seen worse. I've worked the late night shift AE."

Now Ember pulled a face. She had a few memories of trips to AE, and none of them were pleasant. That reminded her; she'd have to ask the Doctor to check her for evidence of those trips: if they'd been real, she needed to know.

They'd just started walking - going around the mess in the street - when Martha spoke again. "But are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"

"Of course we can." The Doctor said, puzzled. "Why do you ask?"

"It's like in the films. You step on a butterfly, you change the future of the human race."

The Doctor looked at Ember in confusion, to which she shrugged, before he looked at Martha again. "Tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies. What have butterflies ever done to you?"

"I like butterflies," Ember said. "They're kinda mesmerising."

"What if, I don't know..." Martha said, walking to catch up with them as they began to walk again. "What if I kill my grandfather?"

The Doctor turned so that he was walking backwards. "Are you planning to?"

"No."

"Well, then." The Doctor turned back to walk forwards again, taking Ember's hand.

"And this is London?"

"I think so. Round about 1599."

"Oh, but hold on." Martha said. "Am I all right? I'm not going to get carted off as a slave, am I?"

"Why would they do that?" The Doctor asked, genuinely puzzled.

Martha pointed at her own face. "Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed."

"We're not even human. Just walk about like you own the place. Works for us. Besides, you'd be surprised. Elizabethan England, not so different from your time." The Doctor pointed to where a man was shivering horse manure into a bucket. "Look over there. They've got recycling." Then he pointed at where several men were talking around a barrel of water. "Water cooler moment."

There was a man holding a book, preaching. "...And the world will be consumed by flame!"

"Global warming." The Doctor said. "Oh, yes, and entertainment. Popular entertainment for the masses. If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark, right next to..." he jogged down the street, pulling Ember with him and followed by Martha, until they turned a corner to see a large building. "Oh, yes, the Globe Theatre! Brand new. Just opened. Through, strictly speaking, it's not a globe, it's a tetradecagon. Fourteen sides. Containing the man himself."

It barely took a moment for Martha to realise what he was talking about. "Whoa, you don't mean... Is Shakespeare in there?"

"Oh, yes!" The Doctor offered an arm. "Miss Jones, will you accompany me and Miss Ember to the theatre?"

Martha grinned, accepting the arm. "Mister Smith, I will."

"When you get home, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare!"

"Then I could get sectioned."

Ember grinned as they walked towards the theatre. She loved plays, and here was her chance to see one of the best.

---

The trio had managed to get into the pit of the theatre, and even managed to get a decent place in the middle 'row' to watch. They managed to catch a good amount of the play, clapping with the audience once it was over.

"That's amazing! Just amazing." Martha said. "It's worth putting up with the smell. And those are men dressed as women, yeah?"

The Doctor shrugged. "London never changes."

"Where's Shakespeare? I want to see Shakespeare. Author! Author!" Martha paused after the cheer, looking sheepish. "Do people shout that? Do they shout Author?"

"Author!" A man shouted from behind them. "Author!"

It was only a matter of seconds before the whole crowd was chanting the word.

"Well, they do now." The Doctor said, taking Ember's hand. He knew how she felt about crowded spaces, but to his relief she seemed to be over the worst of it, though she subconsciously leaned a little more into his side.

Then a man appeared on the stage, making the crowd roar with cheers and applause. He could only be the William Shakespeare, but he looked younger and more attractive.

Martha eyed him as she clapped. "He's a bit different from his portraits."

"Genius. He's a genius. The genius!" The Doctor was practically gushing. "The most human human there's ever been. Now we're going to hear him speak! Always he chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words..."

Shakespeare opened his mouth, and then... "Ah, shut your big fat mouths!"

The crowd laughed as the Doctor deflated in disappointment. "Oh, well."

"You should never meet your heroes." Martha said.

"You've got excellent taste, I'll give you that." The bard said before pointing at a man. "Oh, that's a wig!" He let the crowd laugh again. "I know what you're all saying. Loves Labour's Lost, that's a funny ending, isn't it? It just stops! Will the boys get the girls? Well, don't get your hose in a tangle, you'll find out soon." The crowd began demanding when. "Yeah, yeah. All in good time. You don't rush a genius!"

He bowed low... and then jerked upright like someone had tugged him. Ember squeezed the Doctor's hand twice, getting the same in response.

Shakespeare looked at the crowd again. "When? Tomorrow night. The premiere of my brand new play. A sequel, no less, and I call it... Loves Labour's Won!"

Everyone in the crowd clapped and cheered at that news... with the exception of the Doctor and Ember.

A few minutes later, everyone was filing out of the theatre. The Doctor kept Ember's hand in his as they walked with the crowd.

"I'm not an expert," Martha said, "but I've never heard of Loves Labour's Won."

"Exactly." The Doctor said. "The lost play. It doesn't exist, only in rumours. It's mentioned in lists of his plays but never ever turns up. And no one knows why."

"Have you got a mini-disc or something? We can tape it. We can flog it. Sell it when we get home and make a mint!"

The Doctor gave her a flat look, hoping she was joking. "No."

"That would be bad."

"Yeah."

Martha nodded, letting it go. They all knew she was joking anyway. "Well, how come it disappeared in the first place?"

The Doctor looked at Ember, who nodded. "Well, I was just going to give you a quick little trip in the Tardis, but I suppose we could stay a bit longer."

"We should talk to the bard himself," Ember said. "And I happen to know where he'll be."

---

The trio of travelers were quick to get to the Elephant; a local tavern where Shakespeare was known to frequent. A few flashes of the psychic paper let them in without a fuss, and they made their way upstairs into the private area.

The Doctor knocked on the door that led to Shakespeare's room, where the bard himself was sat at his desk with two men opposite him. "Hello! Excuse me, not interrupting, am I? Mister Shakespeare, isn't it?"

"Oh, no. No, no, no. Who let you in?" Shakespeare groaned. "No autographs. No, you can't have yourself sketched with me. And please don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove..."

By chance he glanced behind the Doctor, where Ember and Martha had just peeked around, and suddenly he changed his tune.

"Oh, nonny nonny. Sit right down here next to me." He said before addressing the men in front of him. "You two get sewing on them costumes. Off you go."

"Come on, lads." The barmaid said, stepping back. "I think our William's found his new muse."

"Sweet ladies," Shakespeare said, which surprised Ember: she didn't expect him to take a liking to her, especially with the scar on her face.

If that was a surprise, she was in for a shock, as the Doctor took one of the newly vacated seats and then promptly pulled the brunette onto his lap, making her squeak. So startled was she, that she didn't notice the Doctor send Shakespeare a warning look.

Shakespeare saw the warning for what it was and smoothly turned his attention to Martha as she sat in the other chair. "Such unusual clothes. So... fitted..."

Martha smiled. "Um... verily, forsooth, egads..."

"No, no, don't do that. Don't." The Doctor said to her before he held out the psychic paper for Shakespeare to see. "I'm Sir Doctor, this is Dame Ember, and this is our companion, Miss Martha Jones."

Ember blinked, puzzled. She was a Dame?

"Interesting, that bit of paper." Shakespeare said, pulling her out of her thoughts. "It's blank."

The Doctor grinned. "Oh, that's very clever. That proves it. Absolute genius."

"No, it says so right there." Martha said. "Sir Doctor, Dame Ember, Martha Jones. It says so."

Shakespeare met her gaze evenly. "And I say it's blank."

"Psychic paper." The Doctor said to Martha, pocketing the paper. "Uh, long story. Oh, I hate starting from scratch..."

"Psychic? Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you exactly? More's the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady?"

That made Martha bristle. "What did you say?"

"Oops. Isn't that a word we use nowadays? An Ethiop girl? A swarth? A Queen of Afric?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!"

The Doctor rubbed his face with a sigh. "It's political correctness gone mad. Um, Martha's from a far-off land... Freedonia."

The door to the room opened with a loud thud, and a large man in expensive threads stepped in. The gold chain around his neck showed that he was some kind of official. "Excuse me! Hold hard a moment. This is abominable behaviour. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mister Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."

Shakespeare sighed. "Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it round."

"I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine. The script, now!"

"I can't."

"Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled."

Ember saw movement at the corner of her eye, and looked to see a maid that had been in the far corner discreetly leave the room.

"It's all go around here, isn't it?" Martha muttered, having not noticed the maid.

"I'm returning to my office for a banning order." The man said. "If it's the last thing I do, Love's Labours Won will never be played."

With that, he turned and left. Shakespeare sighed again, muttering curses under his breath. "Damn Lynley always has it out for me..."

Ember caught the Doctor's hand and squeezed it twice, which made him look at her as she managed to get to her feet. She wanted to go after the official, but what could she say? 'Hey, a witch is about to kill you'?

"Ember?" The Doctor said. "Are you alright?"

"... yeah. Just a bad feeling..."

"Well, mystery solved." Martha said, which surprised Ember: that was too quick. "That's Love's Labours Won over and done with. Thought it might be something more, you know, more mysterious."

"Ask and you shall receive," Ember muttered. Before anyone could question her, there was suddenly a scream from outside, and then another. The brunette was already at the door by the time the Doctor, Martha and Shakespeare had got to their feet, but they caught up with her at the door leading to the street, where a crowd was gathering.

It didn't take long to see why; the official from earlier was stumbling toward them, spitting up water. What was strange was how much water he was spewing; far too much to be normal.

"It's that Lynley bloke." Martha said.

"What's wrong with him?" The Doctor asked, then decided not to wait for an answer. "Leave it to me. I'm a doctor."

"So am I, near enough." Martha ran forward with him as Lynley collapsed. Ember stayed back, knowing that she'd only get in the way. "Got to get the heart going. Mister Lynley, come on. Can you hear me? You're going to be all right..." she opened the man's mouth to clear his airways so she could perform CPR, only to lean back as more water came out. "What the hell is that?"

"I've never seen a death like it." The Doctor said, doing a quick examination. "His lungs are full of water. He drowned and then... I don't know, like a blow to the heart, an invisible blow..."

Ember moved closer. "Um, we need to do some crowd control here..."

The Doctor looked up and around, noticing the crowd, and then he stood up and walked to the barmaid. "Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural if unfortunate demise. Call a constable and have him taken away."

The woman nodded. "Yes, sir."

The maid from earlier grabbed her arm. "I'll do it, ma'am."

Ember couldn't help sending a glare at the maid as she left, knowing what she really was.

"And why are you telling them that?" Martha asked as the Doctor returned to examining the body.

"This lot still have got one foot in the Dark Ages. If I tell them the truth, they'll panic and think it was witchcraft."

"Okay, what was it then?"

"...Witchcraft."

---

A short while later, after the body had been collected and taken away, the trio of travelers returned to Shakespeare's room. The Doctor requested a room to be prepared for them, now willing to stick around to see what was going on.

The barmaid, Dolly, returned. "I got you a room, Sir Doctor. You, Miss Ember and Miss Jones are just across the landing, and I've had a second bed put in at your request."

The Doctor nodded to show that he'd heard. He was leaning against the fireplace with Ember next to him, holding her hand. He knew that she was feeling guilty for not being able to save Lynley, so he was silently offering support.

"Poor Lynley. So many strange events." Shakespeare said before turning to Martha. "Not least of all, this land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor?"

"Where a woman can do what she likes." Martha corrected, standing proud.

The bard then looked at the Time Lords. "And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?"

"I do a lot of reading."

"A trite reply. Yeah, that's what I'd do." He then looked at Ember, surprising her. "And you, Dame Ember. There's something older in your eyes, as unique as they are, but... it's like something within you is stirring..."

Ember met his gaze evenly. "I get that a lot."

Shakespeare nodded, finally turning his eyes to Martha again. "And you? You look at them like you're surprised they exist. They're as much of a puzzle to you as they are to me."

"I think we should say goodnight." Martha said, not really comfortable with how close he was getting to the truth. She turned and left the room.

"I must work." Shakespeare said, gently hinting for them to leave. "I have a play to complete. But I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor, and I'll discover more about you and why this constant performance of yourself and your muse."

The Doctor, who'd moved with Ember to the door, looked back at the bard. "All the world's a stage."

"Hmm. I might use that. Goodnight, Doctor."

"Nighty night, Shakespeare." The Doctor gently pulled Ember with him as he left the room.

Ember squeezed his hand to get his attention. "He called me your muse?"

"Well, he's not wrong," the Doctor said, waggling his eyebrows playfully. "You do inspire me so."

Ember looked away in the hopes that he wouldn't see her blush. He did.

They reached the room that had been prepared for them, and the brunette found herself standing at a loss at the sight of only two beds: one was clearly for two people while the other was a single.

Martha was stood next to the larger bed, holding a candle. "It's not exactly five star, is it?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Oh, it'll do. I've seen worse."

"I've seen much worse," Ember added.

"I haven't even got a toothbrush." Martha said.

"Oh! Uh..." the Doctor pat himself down before he found what he was looking for; a toothbrush wrapped in cellophane. "Contains Venusian spearmint."

Ember smiled when he produced a second one for her. "Oh, these are a godsend! Does the job of flossing too!"

Martha smiled before she looked at the beds. "So, who's going where? I mean, there's only two beds."

"We'll manage. Come on."

Martha looked between Ember, who was still standing by the door, and the Doctor, who'd already moved to the larger bed. "I'll take the smaller one."

That made Ember look at her in surprise, clearly not having expected that. "Sorry?"

"Well, you two are alright to share, right?"

Ember gaped like a fish, and thus didn't put up a fight when the Doctor went over to her and took her hand, guiding her to the larger bed. He looked like a cat who'd caught the canary, but she was too stumped to notice.

"So, magic and stuff." Martha said after a moment, sitting on the smaller bed and putting the candle on the nightstand. "That's a surprise. It's all a little bit Harry Potter."

"Wait till you read book seven." The Doctor said, hopping onto the larger bed. Ember was still staring like she was expecting them to laugh at her. "Oh, I cried."

"But is it real, though? I mean, witches, black magic and all that, it's real?"

"Course it isn't!"

Martha rolled her eyes. "Well, how am I supposed to know? I've only just started believing in time travel. Give me a break."

Ember looked at her. "It depends on how you look at it. Take your medical knowledge for example. If you gave someone here CPR and they lived, they'd assume it was magic. There's a fine line."

"Looks like witchcraft, but it isn't. Can't be." The Doctor said in agreement before he looked at Ember. "Are you going to stand there all night?"

Ember looked at the bed. "Um... wouldn't... tongues wag, or something?"

"Would that be bad?" Martha asked. "It's not like you're not-"

"Remember when I said that Ember jumps through time?" The Doctor called, cutting off Martha's reply. "Well, she doesn't do it in the right order. For her, what happened in the hospital hasn't happened yet."

That made the brunette give him a suspicious look. The way he'd said that implied that something had happened. But what?

"Which explains how she knew who I was and who the plasmavore was," Martha said, nodding. "I get it."

"Alright, keep your secrets." Ember said, smiling to show them that she wasn't angry: at least not at them. "I can play along."

The Doctor gave her a relieved grin as he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the bed, though it ended up with the brunette half lying on his chest, which made her blush return full force.

"Sorry," she muttered, shifting to get off of him. He just smirked and waggled his eyebrows at her.

Martha held back a laugh at their behaviour before deciding to spare the brunette any further embarrassment. "So if it's not real magic, then what is it?"

"There's such a thing as psychic energy, but a human couldn't channel it like that. Not without a generator the size of Taunton and I think we'd have spotted that." The Doctor said, letting Ember have a moment to calm herself down by turning to face the would-be doctor. "No, there's something I'm missing, Martha. Something really close, staring me right in the face and I can't see it. Rose'd know. A friend of mine, Rose. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing. Still, can't be helped." He looked away, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. "You're a novice, never mind. I'll take you back home tomorrow."

Martha's face fell at the reminder that she was just a guest. "Great." She turned to blow out the candle, landing them in near darkness.

---

About an hour later, Martha was asleep on the bed. The Doctor was staring at the ceiling, in deep thought. So deep that he almost missed it when Ember shifted to get up. "Ember? You alright?"

"Yeah. Just need the bathroom," The brunette said as she stood.

"You want to go back to the Tardis?"

"Nah, I'll be quick."

Ember left the room, making it look like she was going where she'd said, but then she saw Dolly come up the stairs with a broom. The brunette hid in the shadows, waiting until the barmaid passed before following her to Shakespeare's room.

"Will?" Dolly called as she entered the room. Ember peeked around the corner, just about able to see the maid from earlier stood in front of Shakespeare's prone form on his desk. Instead of a maids outfit, she was wearing black robes. "Finished cleaning just in time for your special treat... Oh, aye. I'm not the first, then."

The maid turned around, revealing the traditional warted face of a witch.

"I'll take that to aid my flight," she said, walking up to Dolly and taking the broom from her, "and you shall speak no more this night."

Ember concentrated, and a line of fire erupted from the floor between Dolly and the witch. Dolly screamed and ran from the room, while the witch flinched back. The brunette was about to leave when the witch caught sight of her.

"You call on fire?" She asked as Ember stepped into full view. "How can this be?!"

The sound of running footsteps made the two ladies pause, and then the witch ran to the window and jumped out, using the broom to fly away. Ember made the flames disperse, and a moment later, the Doctor and Martha appeared, their noisy entrance waking Shakespeare.

"What? What was that?" He muttered, still dazed as Martha ran to the window.

The Doctor went straight to Ember. "What happened? We just saw Dolly running for her life screaming about fire."

"So she's alive?" Ember asked, relief flooding her.

"Scared half to death, but alive, yes."

"Doctor?" Martha called, making the Time Lords rum to her side at the window.

"What did you see?"

"...A witch."

Ember narrowed her eyes at the sky.

---

Later, a cockerel crowing and dogs barking accomponied the rising sun.

The Doctor, Martha, Ember and Shakespeare were back in his room. They'd tried to talk to Dolly, but she didn't make much sense on account of how shaken she was. Luckily, she hadn't seen Ember, so she didn't have anything to make her think the brunette was a witch. The barmaid had then decided to go and visit her mother out of town, and was already gone by morning.

"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey." Shakespeare said, sitting at his desk. "She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place when we all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit."

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light." The Doctor said, only half aware of it as he held Ember's hand. The brunette was stood between where he and Martha were sitting.

"Hm, I might use that."

"You can't. It's someone else's."

Martha tilted her head thoughtfully. "But the thing is, Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly nearly died of fright, and they were both connected to you."

Shakespeare looked at her. "You're accusing me?"

"No, but I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."

"I have? When was that?"

"Not, not quite yet." The Doctor said softly.

Ember leaned closer to Martha so that only she could hear. "Maybe this is where he gets the idea?"

"Peter Streete spoke of witches." Shakespeare said.

"Who's Peter Streete?" Martha asked.

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

"The architect. Hold on..." the Doctor suddenly had a thought before he jumped to his feet. "The architect! The architect! The Globe! Come on!"

---

It didn't take them long to get to the Globe Theatre. It was empty of crowds now, which gave them plenty of room. The Doctor was wondering around the space where the audience would be, while Ember was leaning against the stage. Martha and Shakespeare were stood on the stage itself.

"The columns there, right? Fourteen sides." The Doctor mused thoughtfully, turning in circles to look at everything. "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." Shakespeare replied with a shrug. "Said it carried the sound well."

Ember tilted her head. "Maybe it carries more than sound?"

The Doctor nodded to show he'd heard her. "Fourteen. Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen..."

"There's fourteen lines in a sonnet." Martha suggested.

"So there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design. Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets. Oh, my head. Tetradecagon. Think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!"

"This is just a theatre." Shakespeare said.

"Oh yeah, but a theatre's magic, isn't it? You should know." The Doctor moved to the stage, leaning his forearms on it. "Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis a the right time. Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy. Change them. You can change people's minds just with words in this place. But if you exaggerate that..."

"It's like your police box." Martha added. "Small wooden box with all that power inside."

"Oh. Oh, Martha Jones, I like you. Tell you what, though, Peter Streete would know. Can I talk to him?"

Shakespeare shook his head. "You won't get an answer. A month after finishing this place, lost his mind."

"Why?" Martha asked. "What happened?"

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

"Where is he now?" The Doctor asked.

"Bedlam."

"What's Bedlam?"

"Bedlem Hospital. The madhouse."

"We're going to go there." The Doctor said, taking Ember's hand. "Right now. Come on."

"Wait! I'm coming with you. I want to witness this at first hand." Shakespeare said, jumping down from the stage with Martha as the two men from earlier came in. He took out a handful of papers and gave it to one of them. "Ralph, the last scene as promised. Copy it, hand it round, learn it, speak it. Back before curtain up. And remember, kid, project. Eyes and teeth. You never know, the Queen might turn up." He turned to follow the trio, muttering "As if. She never does."

Ember squeezed the Doctor's hand before she spoke. "Here's a hint, Doctor. Knowledge is power, but so are words."

The Doctor nodded. "Will we get answers from the hospital?"

"Yes. But be careful: The walls have ears."

"And the witch? Is it real?"

"That depends on what you define as real. But there is someone real behind this, and they're not bothered about being labelled as witches because that isn't their name."

The Doctor looked at her, about to speak when Martha cut him off. She'd been talking to Shakespeare, but until now the conversation went unheard.

"Whoa, Nelly!" The medical student said. "I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country."

"But Martha, this is Town." Shakespeare pointed out.

The Doctor walked back to the pair. "Come on! We can all have a good flirt later!"

"Is that a promise, Doctor?"

That and the coy look he received made the Time Lord pause. "Oh, fifty seven academics just punched the air. Now move!" He turned to keep walking, catching sight of Ember smirking. "Oh, hush, you!"

"I didn't say anything," the brunette said innocently.

---

A short while later, the group of four reached Bedlam Hospital. Except it didn't look like any hospital that anyone would willingly check in to: it was dark and damp and cold, and even before they went into the building, they could hear people screaming inside. Thanks to the Doctor's psychic paper, they'd gotten in as high class guests.

Ember half wished she could wait outside. It was worse inside than outside. The cells stank of various things that made her stomach lurch, none of the cells were clean or comfortable, and the inmates were not taken care off at all.

The keeper - a rather large man who seemed to enjoy his job far too much - led them along a narrow corridor that had cells on either side. The Doctor kept Ember tucked into his side and as far away from the cells as possible.

"Does my Lord Doctor wish some entertainment while he waits?" The keeper asked. "I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for you. Mad dog in Bedlam."

"No, I don't!" The Doctor said sternly.

"Well, wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies," the keeper continued down the corridor, thumping cage doors with a stick along the way.

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

"Oh, it's all so different in Freedonia." The bard quipped.

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

"I've been mad. I've lost my mind. Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose."

Martha gave him a look. "Mad in what way?"

"You lost your son." The Doctor said.

Shakespeare nodded. "My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."

Now Martha looked guilty. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be." The bard paused. "Oh, that's quite good."

"You should write that down." The Doctor suggested.

"Maybe not. A bit pretentious?"

The Doctor shrugged. Ember smiled.

"This way, my lord!" The keeper called. The group moved, and soon found themselves at a cell at the far end. There was only one man in the cell, and he was sat hunched over in rags with his back to them, and he showed no sign of knowing that he wasn't alone.

The keeper opened the door and led the group in. "They can be dangerous, my lord. Don't know their own strength."

"I think it helps if you don't whip them. Now get out!" The Doctor snapped at the man. Once he left, the Time Lord let Ember stay beside Martha and Shakespeare as he approached the hunched form. "Peter? Peter Streete?"

"He's the same as he was." Shakespeare said. "You'll get nothing out of him."

Ember shrugged. "Let him try. It wouldn't hurt."

The Doctor knelt in front of the hunched man and reached out to put his hand on his shoulder. "Peter?"

The man's head jerked up at the touch, his eyes wide and staring.

Ember shuddered as she felt a chill, though no one else seemed affected. Was she somehow sensing the witches watching them?

The Doctor slowly put his hands on Peter's temples and closed his eyes, trying to bring the man's conscious mind closer to the surface. He then opened his eyes without breaking the connection. "Peter, I'm the Doctor. 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. That's it. That's it, just let go."

He gently eased the man to lay back on his cot and then stood. Peter was still a shivering mess, but now there was a hint of awareness in his eyes.

"Tell me the story, Peter." The Doctor said. "Tell me about the witches."

There was a pause, and then...

"Witches spoke to Peter. In the night, they whispered." Peter said, swiping at his own ear as though to brush the voices out. "They whispered. Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design! The fourteen walls. Always fourteen. When the work was done... they snapped poor Peter's wits."

The Doctor knelt down again. "Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city? Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?"

"...All Hallows Street."

"Too many words."

The Doctor jumped back as soon as the new voice spoke. Right next to him was what looked like a very old woman with a long nose and wrinkly skin: the perfect example of an evil witch.

"What the hell?" Martha cried, stepping back.

"Just one touch of the heart." The witch lifted a hand, about to reach out to touch Peter's chest, but then she caught movement and looked, seeing Ember. The brunette had moved to stand in front of Martha and Shakespeare. "Ah, the one who calls upon fire..."

Ember stepped forward, concentrating. She held up her hand, allowing a plume of flame to appear in her palm like a fireball. "I can do a lot more than that, and I'll gladly show you if you don't back off!"

The witch frowned, but stepped back, allowing the Doctor to grab Peter and pull him back to where the others were.

"Witches," Shakespeare breathed, looking between Ember and the old crone. "I'm seeing witches!"

"Just one touch." The witch said, trying to use words to scare the group. "Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts! Poor, fragile mortals."

Martha turned to the cell door, which was unfortunately locked. "Let us out! Let us out!"

"That's not going to work." The Doctor pointed out. "The whole building's shouting that."

"Who will die first, hmm?" The witch asked.

"Well, if you're looking for volunteers..."

"No! Don't!" Martha cried as the Time Lord stepped forward.

"Doctor, can you stop her?" Shakespeare asked.

The witch frowned at him. "No mortal has power over me."

"They do if they have the right words," Ember countered.

The Doctor nodded in agreement. "Oh, there's a power in words. If I can find the right one. If I can just know you..."

"None on Earth has knowledge of us."

"Then it's a good thing I'm here. Now think, think, think. Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy. Ah! Fourteen! That's it! Fourteen! The fourteen stars of the Rexel Planetary Configuration!" The Doctor pointed at the witch. "Creature, I name you... Carrionite!"

The witch screamed and vanished in a white light, leaving them alone once again. Ember lowered her hand, allowing the flame to go out.

"What did you do?" Martha asked.

"I named her. The power of a name." The Doctor looked at them. "That's old magic."

"But there's no such thing as magic."

Ember shook her head. "Fine line, remember?"

"Well, it's just a different sort of science." The Doctor agreed. "You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead."

"Use them for what?" Shakespeare asked.

"The end of the world."

The bard looked at Ember. "And you? You have witches' powers as well."

"Oi, don't call her a witch!"

"It's alright, Doctor, it's not the first time I've been called that," Ember turned to face Shakespeare. "Look, we can argue if I should be burned at the stake or drowned in the river later, but right now, bad witches are out to destroy the world as you know it, and we're the only ones who can stop it. Now, if you want to think of me as a witch, consider me one of the nice ones, okay?"

Shakespeare looked at her for a long moment, and then he nodded. "You saved Dolly and Peter. I owe you the benefit of the doubt at least."

With that, the Doctor swiftly opened the cell door with his Sonic. They'd offered for Peter to come with them, but he said he needed time to recover from the ordeal. After having Shakespeare promise to come back to get him out once the danger had passed, the group of four decided to make their way back to the tavern to regroup.

Along the way, Martha tapped Ember on the shoulder. "So, you didn't tell me you could make fire appear."

"I didn't?" Ember asked.

"Well, you mentioned something in the hospital we met in that it was risky to use fire since it would burn up the oxygen quicker. Then I saw you use-"

"Ah, spoilers!" The Doctor called, having eavesdropped on them. "She hasn't been there yet, remember?"

"Oh, sorry."

Ember pursed her lips in thought. "I can control three elements so far: Fire, water and earth. Wind is expected to be next, but then after that... I dunno what else."

"But isn't that it? Four elements?"

"Those are Primary Elements," The Doctor said. "Like there's three Primary colours, there are four Primary Elements: Earth, wind, fire and water. After that comes all the others, supposedly not as essential as the first four but still powerful in their own right."

Martha nodded to show that she was following. "So how many elements are there altogether?"

"Well, that's like asking how many colours there are. It depends on perspective. Like you can be vague and start with red, blue, green etc, or you can be specific and go through all the shades of each colour, like crimson, scarlet, blood, rouge..."

Ember grabbed his arm. "Doctor, tell me. How many elements will I be able to control?"

"Well, and this is based from what I've seen you do... someday, I think you'll command them all."

That didn't really make the brunette feel better, but she knew that was about the best she was going to get.

Shakespeare's next words didn't really help either. "So you are a witch that can command the natural elements of the world?"

"I suppose you can look at it like that," Ember said.

"Hmm," The bard nodded. "Well, it's a good thing you're on our side then, isn't it?"

That did make Ember feel better.

---

After getting back to the tavern, the group went back to Shakespeare's room to regroup. The bard was using a basin of water to wash his face to prepare himself for the evening.

"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe." The Doctor explained. He'd taken his trench coat off and was pacing while Martha was leaning against the wall next to Ember. "Nobody was sure if they were real or legend."

"Well, I'm going for real." Shakespeare said, grabbing a nearby towel.

Martha shook her head. "But what do they want?"

The Doctor sighed. "A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."

"But how?"

"I'm looking at the man with the words."

Shakespeare paused when he realised that it was him. "Me? But I've done nothing."

"Hold on, though." Martha said. "What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?"

"Finishing the play."

Ember squeezed the Doctor's hand twice, prompting him to speak. "What happens on the last page?"

"The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual." Shakespeare said, then he paused. "Except those last few lines. Funny thing is, I don't actually remember writing them."

"That's it. 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! And yes, you can have that."

Ember smiled. "We need a map."

In no time, they had exactly that, though it was quite messy. The Doctor took only a few minutes finding what he needed before he pointed. "All Hallows Street. There it is. Martha and Ember, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play."

Shakespeare nodded, shaking the Doctor's hand. "I'll do it. All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."

"Oh, don't complain." Martha said.

"I'm not. It's marvellous. Good luck, Doctor."

"Good luck, Shakespeare." The Doctor grabbed his coat from the chair and took off, Martha and Ember following. "Once more unto the breach!"

"I like that. Wait a minute, that's one of mine!"

"Oh, just shift!" The Doctor called back. He caught up with Ember and Martha outside, running down the street with the ladies until they reached an intersection. "All Hallows Street, but which house?"

Martha looked at him. "The thing is, though am I missing something here? The world didn't end in 1599. It just didn't. Look at me. I'm living proof."

The Doctor blinked. "Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux? I know. Back to the Future. It's like Back to the Future."

"The film?"

"No, the novelisation. Yes, the film." The Doctor ignored the flat look he got in return, though he did get a slap on the arm from Ember. "Marty McFly goes back and changes history."

"And he starts fading away." Martha said, only for her eyes to widen in realisation. "Oh my God, am I going to 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?"

Ember tugged on his sleeve and pointed to a house, just as it's front door opened with an ominous creak. "Witch house, you mean. Remember the maid from the tavern? She's one of them."

Nodding, the Doctor led the girls into the house. Inside was a typical witch's den: dried plants hanging from the ceiling, cobwebs everywhere, the lighting eerie thanks to the candles that dotted the room.

There was a sound from upstairs, and the trio made their way up, to find the same decor as the first floor, and even a cauldron on the far side of the room. Just next to that cauldron was a young woman; the Doctor and Martha recognised her as the maid from the tavern.

"I take it we were expected." The Doctor said.

"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time." The woman - Lilith, Ember finally remembered - replied.

Martha strode forward confidently. "Right then, it's my turn. I know how to do this." She pointed at the woman. "I name thee... Carrionite!" Lilith mock gasped and then smiled. "What did I do wrong? Was it the finger?"

"The power of a name works only once. Observe." Lilith pointed at her. "I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones."

Martha's eyes rolled back and she fainted, falling back. The Doctor was swift to catch her and lay her down to quickly check her vitals. "What have you done?"

Lilith tilted her head curiously. "Only sleeping, alas. It's curious. The name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time. And as for you, Sir Doctor..." she pointed at the Time Lord, but nothing happened. "Fascinating. There is no name. Why would a man hide his title in such despair? Oh, but look. There's still one word with the power that aches."

"The naming won't work on me." The Doctor warned her.

"But your heart grows cold. You wait the time when she'll remember," Lilith continued, which threw Ember off: that wasn't what she was supposed to say. "Afraid you'll lose your precious... Ember?"

It happened in an instant. Ember felt all the air leave her like she'd been sucker punched, driving her to her knees.

"Ember!" The Doctor called, going to her side. "Hang on!"

"I'm fine," the brunette gasped out, pressing a hand to her chest. "Watch out for her..."

"Interesting. She resists my charm," Lilith said. "She's something new, and yet... she smells of ancient power. It's almost... familiar..."

The Doctor stood and turned to Lilith, walking right up to her. The move drew her attention to him, whereas before it had been on Ember with a thoughtful expression. "Oh, that was a big mistake. Because that name keeps me fighting! The Carrionites vanished. Where did you go?"

Lilith turned and walked away, towards the cauldron. "The Eternals found the right word to banish us into deep darkness."

"And how did you escape?"

"New words. New and glittering, from a mind like no other."

"Shakespeare."

Lilith pointedly looked into the cauldron, prompting him to do the same. They saw a hazy image of a heartbroken Shakespeare in the surface. "His son perished. The grief of a genius. Grief without measure. Madness enough to allow us entrance."

Ember swallowed hard. The pain was ebbing away, allowing her to breathe properly again. It wouldn't be long until she could stand.

"How many of you?" The Doctor asked.

"Just the three. 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 into the old ways of blood and magic."

"Hmm. Busy schedule." The Doctor said casually, walking up to the woman again. "But first... you've got to get past me."

"Oh, that should be a pleasure, considering my enemy has such a..." Lilith got in close and raised a hand, gently tracing his face, "handsome shape."

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

"Oh, we'll see."

A quick snip, and she backed off, now holding a small clump of brown hair.

The Doctor reached up to feel where he'd felt the tug. "What did you do?"

"Souvenir."

"Well, give it back!" The Doctor tried to run to her, the Lilith simply flew back, right out of the windows behind her, where she hovered out of his reach. "Well, that's just cheating."

"Behold, Doctor. Men to Carrionites are nothing but puppets!" Lilith produced a small doll made of straw, proceeding to tie the hair she'd taken around it.

Ember looked to her left to see Martha stirring, but neither of them would make it up before the witch struck.

"Now, you might call that magic." The Doctor said. "I'd call that a DNA replication module."

"What use is your science now?" Lilith asked before she took a pin and stabbed the doll. Instantly, the Doctor felt the pain and collapsed with a cry.

Ember felt that instinct inside her rise up with rage at the sight of the Doctor falling. She knew that he was fine, but that didn't stop the anger at the fact that this witch had hurt him. The silver in her eyes bled out to cover her sclera, just in time for Martha to see it.

Then, the tiny flames that were on the candles around the room suddenly erupted upwards, twisting and combining in the air to make one massive flame and shoot out of the window. Lilith barely managed to dodge the flames, looking very surprised by the sudden aggression. The flames turned up to disperse in the sky, though one unfortunate tree did catch fire.

"What...?" Lilith said, looking back into the room. At the sight of Ember struggling to her feet, teeth bared and eyes like pools of liquid silver, the witch's own eyes widened. "How did you...?"

"Piss off!" Ember snapped at her. Even Martha was surprised not only by the vulgar language but also the tone; it was almost more like a snarl than words. "Or I will burn you to ash!"

Lilith could tell that she meant it; the few candles that were still lit were melting fast under the intensity of the fire. The witch took off, disappearing into the sky as the windows closed.

"Ember?" Martha asked.

The brunette shook her head, blinking hard, "Wha...?" Her eyes returned to normal as she looked around. She was about to say something when she saw the Doctor still lying on the floor. "Doctor!"

Martha wanted to question what she'd just seen, but the urgency of the Doctor's condition trumped her curiousity. "Oh my God, Doctor!" She helped Ember roll the Doctor onto his back. "Don't worry, we've got you." She went to listen to his chest, then an idea came to her. "Hold on, mister. Two hearts?"

The Doctor smirked. "You're making a habit of this." He quickly rolled over and got up, only to drop back to a knee with a grunt, Martha barely catching 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 balled her fist and thumped him on the chest.

"Gah! Other side!" The Doctor yelped. Ember took the chance and did it herself, thumping him hard over his left heart, making him double over. "Now, on the back, on the back!" Another thump, this time to the left side of his back, and then he straightened up and cracked his neck. "Gah, lovely! There we go. Badda booma!" He jumped to his feet and looked at the ladies. "Well, what are you standing there for? Come on! The Globe!"

Martha looked at Ember. "What was that just now? That fire..."

"Sometimes I go overboard: just look at my jacket," Ember said, turning to follow the Doctor. "But we need to talk about this later, Doctor!"

"Yes, later, fine, but now we need to go! Come on!"

The trio ran down the stairs and out of the house, intent on getting back to the theatre. Except...

"We're going the wrong way!" Martha yelled.

"No, we're not!" The Doctor said... only to stop and turn around. "We're going the wrong way!"

They turned the last corner, faltering when they saw that a massive red cloud was now hanging over the Globe Theatre. A strong wind was blowing, like a tornado was building.

"I told thee so!" The preacher from earlier was yelling. "I told thee!"

Ember felt another shiver go through her at the sight of the red cloud. Something was nagging at her. "Doctor... this doesn't feel right..."

"Whatever that is, it's messing with the elements," the Doctor quickly explained, taking her hand and pulling with him to the back door of the building. "Stage door!"

They ran into the building's backstage area, to find Shakespeare just coming to, running his head.

"Stop the play." The Doctor said. "I think that was it. Yeah, I said, stop the play!"

"I hit my head." The bard mumbled.

"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald." A scream came from the stage. "I think that's my cue!"

Martha grabbed Shakespeare, pulling him with her after the Doctor. Ember made to follow, but then her head throbbed and everything went white...

The Carrionites had been summoned, the humans were screaming in terror. The Doctor tried to get Shakespeare to help, but there wasn't enough time, as the creatures began to attack the people...

Ember shook her head to clear it, running out onto the stage after the others. She looked up at what looked like a tornado above them, wind and thunder cracking as the trapped audience screamed in fear.

Lilith, who was in one of the upper booths, saw them and frowned. "The Doctor. He lives. Then watch this world become a blasted heath! They come. They come!"

The tornado-like portal above them turned blood red, and forms could be seen swirling about; the other Carrionites in their true forms.

"Doctor, it's too soon!" Ember yelled over the wind. "You need more time!"

The Doctor looked at her. "What for?"

"To improvise!" Ember narrowed her eyes, moving to the front of the stage and spreading her arms out. It was tough to do it with the distance and the wind, but she concentrated hard, and the flames that were in lamps around the theatre shot up and extended. A Carrionite that had split off from the group to attack the helpless people below shrieked as the flames shot between it and its prey, herding it back to rejoin its group.

"What can you do?" Lilith called, somehow able to be heard in the chaos. "Even if you can call upon fire, there's only one of you: how do you hope to take all of us?"

"I don't have to!" Ember yelled back, feeling herself sweat under the strain. "I'm not the one with the words!"

The Doctor, who'd heard the hint, turned and grabbed Shakespeare. "Come on, Will! History needs you!"

"But what can I do?" The bard said, confused.

"Reverse it!"

"How am I supposed to do that?"

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

Shakespeare shook his head. "But what words? I have none ready!"

"You're William Shakespeare!"

"Need to hurry!" Ember called, sending another plume of fire to keep a Carrionite from attacking one of the balconies. "I don't know how long I can hold them back!"

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

The Doctor leaned close. "Trust yourself. When you're locked away in your room, the words just come, don't they, like magic. Words of the right sound, the right shape, the right rhythm. Words that last forever! That's what you do, Will. You choose perfect words. Do it. Improvise!"

Ember flinched as her head gave a throb of warning that she was pushing herself, like she had in the Library. What she didn't notice was an extra gust of wind blow by, since it was already so windy in the theatre.

Lilith did notice, and her eyes widened. "It can't be... they live?!"

Shakespeare, who'd looked thoughtful, then spoke up in a raised voice. "Close up this din of hateful, dire decay, decomposition of your witches' plot! You thieve my brains, consider me your toy! My doting Doctor tells me I am not!"

"No! Words of power!"

Ember saw a Carrionite coming right at them and threw out her hand, making fire appear from in front of her to shoot right in the creature's face, making it change course with a screech.

"Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points..." Shakespeare continued, only to trail off and look at the Doctor for help.

"Seven six one three nine oh!"

"Seven six one three nine oh! Banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee..." the bard looked again for the words.

The Doctor hesitated, looking at Martha, who shouted the first thing that came to her head. "Expelliarmus!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Expelliarmus!" Shakespeare shouted, joined by the actors on the stage.

"Good old JK!" The Doctor cheered.

The tornado seemed to suddenly go in reverse, pulling the Carrionites in rather than letting them out. The three on the balcony above screamed.

"The deep darkness! They are consumed!" Lilith screamed. "No!"

The wind picked up as Ember let the flames return to normal, though the Doctor was quick to go to her side and steady her as she stumbled. The doors behind them burst open, allowing sheets of paper to billow out and get sucked into the tornado.

"Love's Labours Won." The Doctor said. "There it goes."

Ember kept her eyes on the sky as the tornado shrank until it vanished with a flash and a bang. In the sudden quiet, no one spoke, but then someone began to clap. They were joined by others, and it was only a matter seconds before everyone in the audience was clapping and cheering. The brunette let the Doctor guide her off the stage to to around to the balcony, where they were quick to find the crystal ball that Lilith had been holding, sitting innocently on the railing.

The Doctor took the ball and looked at it, seeing the three Carrionites screaming and scratching at him from inside the sphere. Ember moved to look as well, smirking when the witches suddenly backed off, looking at her in fear.

Then she frowned, turning to the Doctor. "We need to talk."

"Later."

---

After checking for any remaining traces of the lost play, the Doctor and Ember were in one of the large storage rooms that were used to keep props.

"They recognised me." Ember said, finally breaking the silence.

The Doctor glanced at her. "Who did?"

"The Carrionites. Or Lilith, at least. When she tried to kill me at the house, it intrigued her that I resisted. And when she saw me use fire at the theatre, she said 'it can't be', and then after that 'they live'. She knew something." Ember turned to face him fully. "I've been told on more than one occasion that I was ancient, or smelled it. If that's true, then whatever I am is so old that the Carrionites knew about it."

The Doctor sighed, moving to sit on a worn chest. "There's stories of so many races that existed at the same time that the Carrionites did. There's not many of them that have been proven to be real." He looked at the brunette and knew from her expression that she wasn't going to settle for that. "Alright, yes. The other part of you, the bit that isn't Time Lord, is probably the oldest known race in creation, as old as time itself, some say. And, obviously, they did in fact exist."

"Do they exist now? Or am I the only one, like you?"

"I honestly don't know. And there isn't a solid way to find out, either."

"So you know what I am, who I was?"

"... yes, I know what you are. But it hasn't been all that long since I found out, and you did at the same time."

Ember filed that information away for later. "When she named me, she said 'you wait the time when she'll remember' and then about losing me. What did that mean?"

The Doctor hesitated, and then sighed again. "As you know, you've forgotten your past. But you'll eventually remember: You'll remember who you were and how you came to be what you are now."

"And the bit about losing me?"

"There's... a chance, that when you remember everything, you'll no longer be... well, you. Memories define who we are. You're Ember, but when you finally get your memories back..."

"I might stop being me, and be who I was before all of this." Ember finished. "But who is that? Who was I? Why did I forget? Was I good, was I evil? For all I know, the whole reason I forgot was because I was some... evil tyrant that had to be stopped..."

The Doctor shook his head. "Now, I don't think that's true."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because if you were, I think we'd have seen a sign by now. So far, all I've seen is this caring, wonderful woman who's trying to find answers about herself, all the while doing what's right and helping people."

Ember blushed lightly at that, looking away. "So... I find out what happened?"

"In time, yes. Though at this point, it's still a mystery as to why you jump around my timeline specifically, and how or why you came to be what you are now. But I promise, I'll be there every step of the way. You won't be alone."

"... thanks." The brunette sighed, picking up what looked like the skull of a bull or other large animal. "I guess I'll just have to wait for those answers."

The Doctor moved, getting up to go to her side and taking her hand. "For what it's worth, I knew you'll be okay. I've seen it."

Ember nodded, though she wasn't quite convinced: Lilith's words had definitely made her think. Not to mention the popular phrase the Doctor used: time can be rewritten. When everything was revealed... would she still be Ember?

What she didn't notice was that the Doctor descreetly sighed in relief, as though he'd just dodged a rather large bullet...

The two of them went back to their search, finding a ruff that the Doctor put on with a grin, and then they made their way back to the stage where Martha and Shakespeare were sat on the edge talking.

"Good props store back there." The Doctor said, taking the skull from Ember and looking at it. "I'm not sure about this though. Reminds me of a Sycorax."

"Sycorax. Nice word." Shakespeare said. "I'll have that off you as well."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "I should be on ten percent. How's your head?"

"Still aching."

"Here, I got you this." The Time Lord took off the ruff and put it 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."

Martha smiled, recognising the accessory. "What about the play?"

"Gone. We looked all over. Every single copy of Love's Labours Won went up in the sky."

"As it should," Ember added.

Shakespeare looked thoughtful. "My lost masterpiece."

"You could write it up again." Martha suggested.

"Yeah, better not, Will." The Doctor said. "There's still power in those words. Maybe it should best stay forgotten."

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

That made Martha pause. "Hamnet?"

"That's him."

"Hamnet?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Anyway, time we were off." The Doctor said before an argument would start. He picked up the crystal ball that he'd left with the human. "I've got a nice attic in the Tardis where this lot can scream for all eternity..."

Ember leaned over to glare at the screeching witches inside. "Oh, shut up!"

Instantly, they quieted and backed off. She felt another pang of satisfaction at the sight of them cowering from her, though it did have a sliver of concern to it...

The Doctor moved the ball away from her, pulling her from her thoughts. "And we've got to take Martha back to Freedonia."

"You mean travel on through time and space." Shakespeare said.

"You what?"

"You and Ember are from another world like the Carrionites, and Martha is from the future. It's not hard to work out."

The Doctor smiled. "That's incredible. You are incredible."

"We're alike in many ways, Doctor." The bard turned to only other human there. "Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my Dark Lady. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate..."

Suddenly there was a clatter as the two actors ran in. "Will!"

"Will, you'll never believe it. She's here! She's turned up!"

"We're the talk of the town. She heard about last night. She wants us to perform it again!"

"Who?" Martha asked.

"Her Majesty. She's here!"

Then there was loud fanfare, and in came a shocker; an elderly Queen Elizabeth, flanked by two pikemen.

"Queen Elizabeth the First!" The Doctor said with a grin.

"Doctor?" The Queen looked at him.

That made the Doctor pause; he was sure he hadn't met her before. "What?"

"My sworn enemy!"

"What?"

"Off with his head!"

"What?!"

"Never mind what, just run!" Martha jumped up as the Time Lords turned and ran. "See you, Will, and thanks!"

"Stop that pernicious Doctor!"

The trio hightailed it out of the theatre and down the streets, dodging people while pursued by the pikemen. "Stop in the name of the Queen!"

They quickly made their way to the Tardis, where the Doctor was quick to unlock the door.

"What have you done to upset her?" Martha asked.

"How should I know? Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you. Still, can't wait to find out!" He looked back as the two women entered the Tardis. "That's something to look forward to. Ooo!"

He dashed inside and closed the door, just in time to avoid getting hit by an arrow, which got stuck in the door.

Ember was about to make a snarky comment when she felt a familiar burning sensation build up in her chest. "Looks like I'm off. I'll see you later!"

She vanished before she heard a reply.

---

Ok, and there we go! More clues to Ember's origins, and she got to face off against the witches! And there's another hint towards when she'll find out what she is.

Hope you guys have a Merry Christmas, Hanukkah, or whatever holiday you celebrate this time of year!

Next Time: Ember gets a chance to try out her powers over Earth, but will she be able to stop a major plot development from happening? Or will she be forced to let it go? Stay tuned!