Chapter LXIII

Martha's POV

They were back at Shakespeare's room – she still couldn't think of him as 'Will', even though the Doctor had called him that – and talking about their latest discoveries. For her there was almost too much new information. Carrionites, Mira's talking about teleportation and how she had tried to disturb it. And what had she meant with 'Shit happens', as the witch had declared that no mortal had power over her? Who was she? Well, despite claiming it, certainly not human. Even the canners of the Judoon had confirmed that. Maybe she should just ask her later. But she wasn't sure she would find the courage to do that, and it would make her appear incredibly nosy, wouldn't it? Plus, there was something about that other woman. Something almost daunting and intimidating. Not in a violent, evil way, but still, she felt it would keep her from asking Mira anything.

"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe," the Doctor said whilst pacing through the room. "Nobody was sure if they were real or legend."

"Well, I'm going for real," Shakespeare said and dried his face.

"But what do they want?" she asked.

"A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft," the Doctor replied, making her shiver.

"But why Earth, of all planets?" Mira asked. She had looked out of the window but turned around now. "What do they want with some rather unimportant planet?"

"I think the most important question right now is: How," the Doctor replied. "And I'm looking at the man with the words."

"Me?" Shakespeare said, visibly shocked. "But I've done nothing."

Well, he was somehow involved in it, they just had to find out how.

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

"Finishing the play."

"What happens on the last page?" the Doctor asked.

She couldn't help but she felt her heart warm up as she was obviously on the right track and he was following it. How to impress guys with brain? Right. With brain.

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

"That's it," the Doctor suddenly yelled. "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."


Doctor's POV

He had found some road map. It was anything but accurate, but it would have to do.

"All Hallows Street," he said and pointed at the map. "There it is. Mira, Martha, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play."

He looked at Shakespeare intently and considered for a moment to send Mira along with him. Or, more likely, to ask her if she wanted to go with him, but then decided against it. He would probably need her when confronting the Carrionites.

"I'll do it. All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing," Shakespeare replied.

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

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

"Good luck, Shakespeare," he replied and hurried out of the door. "Once more unto the breach."

"I like that. Wait a minute, that's one of mine," he heard Shakespeare say.

"Oh, just shift!" he urged him, poking his head once more through the door.

Once outside, it didn't take him too long to find the right street.

"All Hallows Street, but which house?" he asked and looked around.

"One moment, I should be able to sense them," Mira said and turned her head around as if listening to something. Well, somehow she was. Something only she could 'hear'.

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

Here we go again.

He scratched his neck. It was a good thing that humans were so full of questions, but how should he explain something they basically couldn't understand, no matter how hard they tried?

"Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux?" He murmured. "I know. Back to the Future. It's like Back to the Future," he continued and looked at Martha.

"The film?"

"No, the novelization," he said, slightly impatient now. Humans. "Yes, the film. Marty McFly goes back and changes history."

"And he starts fading away. Oh my God, am I going to fade? Are we both fading away?" Martha asked and turned her head to Mira.

"Nah, not me," Mira said absent mindedly. "Different Earth, different timeline."

"You and the entire future of the human race," he hurried to say before Martha would come up with more questions about different worlds and timelines. He could read in her face that she was about to do exactly that. "It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it. But which house?"

"Found it," Mira said and pointed at a house, just as its door creaked open.

What an invitation, he thought.

"Ah. Make that witch house," he said and went to the door without hesitation.

They went upstairs and into a room which could be directly penned by Shakespeare. Everything screamed witchcraft, from the weird objects on the tables, the cauldron, to the woman dressed in black who looked at him expectantly.

"I take it we're expected," he said.

"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time," she hissed at him. "Even longer for you," she added and turned her gaze to Mira, who was standing next to him. "What are you? You somehow smell human, and yet you don't, at the same time. Some might call you an abomination. Or a witch."

"I've been called many things in my live. Got boring after a hundred years or so. People just don't come up with anything new," Mira replied.

The Carrionite stepped closer to Mira, watched her up and down and walked back to where she had been standing before. "Doesn't matter anyway. "

"Right then, it's my turn," Martha said, and he knew exactly what she was trying to do now. "I know how to do this." She stepped past him and Mira, pointed her finger at the Carrionite and said, "I name thee Carrionite!"

But nothing happened, apart from the mocked surprised face the Carrionite was pulling.

"What did I do wrong? Was it the finger?"

"The power of a name works only once," the witch said. "Observe. I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones."

"Oh no, not really," Mira simply said, and indeed, nothing happened.

This time, the surprised look on the Carrionite's face wasn't mocked at all, and even Martha looked quite shocked.

"So, you really think you're stronger than I am?" the Carrionite hissed at her.

"No. I know it, actually," Mira replied, just as he tucked her at the sleeve, to remind her to be carefully. Who knew what else that Carrionite had in store..

"Oh, so self-assured? I'm not even sure it was you who saved that girl. The name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time," the Carrionite said, then turned to him. "And as for you, Sir Doctor. 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," he said coldly.

"But your heart grows cold. The north wind blows and carries down the distant Rose."

"Oh, you're a bit late for that," he replied.

There had been a time when that name would have hurt, but that was gone. Maybe it had already been gone with his last regeneration, he suddenly realised. "More interesting: The Carrionites vanished. Where did you go?" he added.

"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."

"His son perished. The grief of a genius. Grief without measure. Madness enough to allow us entrance."

"How many of you?" he 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."

"Nice plan," Mira said. "Even though I still don't understand that whole 'rule the universe' thing. Don't you think it'll get incredibly boring pretty soon?"

"Well, she first has got to get past us anyway," he said.

"Oh, that should be a pleasure, considering my enemy has such a handsome shape," the Carrionite replied, approached him until she was merely inches away from his face and ran a hand over his cheek.

"Now, that's one form of magic that's definitely not going to work on me," he said, without stepping away.

"Oh, I already sensed that there's someone else whose magic is working on you," she replied and took a step back. "It was worth a try, though."

Suddenly, she reached under her cape and then hold up her hand. It was seemingly empty, but he could see exactly what she was holding between her fingers. It was a hair. A long, very long, brown hair, shimmering slightly reddish in the dim light. One of Mira's. And she had obviously seen it as well.

"Where the hell did you get that from?" Mira demanded to know.

"Souvenir," the Carrionite said with a somehow evil smile.

"Give it back!" Mira yelled, apparently realising that it was more than some fallen out hair, and ran towards her; but she was too slow.

The Carrionite had already flown out of the window as Mira reached it, hovering in the air, out of her reach.

"Well, that's just cheating," he said as he had reached Mira's side. He had a vague idea what the Carrionite wanted with that hair, and that was not good. Not good at all Then it would come down to technology, and that was nothing Mira could defend herself against, unlike the psychic abilities the Carrionites were possessing.

"Behold, Doctor. You will see," the witch said, produced a wooden doll from her pockets and wrapped the hair around.

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

"What use is your psychic power now?" the Carrionite ignored him and asked Mira, before she stabbed the doll.

At the same moment Mira screamed as if being stabbed – well, actually she was being stabbed – and collapsed. He managed to catch her and laid her gently down on the floor.

No. Please not.

That witch had aimed for her heart, and she had been right – there was no way for Mira to protect herself. But she couldn't be dead. She just couldn't. At the same time he knew how weak and fragile the human physiology was. There was no hope left.

"What's with her?" he heard Martha as if from a distance, even though she was crouching down opposite to him, on Mira's other side. "She didn't kill her, did she?" Martha continued and reached for Mira's neck.

It was then when he snapped out of the numbness that had befallen him for a moment. And then he realised it. He put his fingers on Mira's neck before Martha could reach her. He could feel it, just as he had heard it the whole time. Faint, slow and somehow weak, but he could feel her heartbeat. She was not dead. Not yet at least. He had no idea how she could still be alive, but they had to get back to the TARDIS. But then the Carrionites would win. Was that what the witch had wanted? Just weaken her enough so he would have to decide if he would stop them and let her die, or save her and sacrifice humanity? As this dawned on him, he felt completely paralysed.

"What's wrong with her?" Martha asked.

He looked up and met Martha's eyes. She would vanish. Everyone would vanish. Every human he had ever known who was born after 1599. There was no way he could sacrifice them all to save one. But...

Right at this moment Mira opened her eyes.

"Oh, welcome back," Martha said with a big smile and grabbed her wrist. "Your pulse seems fine, at least when you actually are human. She really knocked you out that witch, didn't she?"

"What?" was all he could say. Impossible. Just impossible.

"I think it's time for witch-hunt now," Mira murmured, still obviously quite dizzy and tried to get up.

"Oh no, no, not so fast!" he said, slowly overcoming his surprise.

He held her down at the shoulder with one hand and took the sonic screwdriver from his pocket with the other. He scanned her, but he couldn't see any sign of damage. No internal injuries, nothing.

"But-"

"What? Just tell me what's wrong," she said. "At least I feel not like dying, so it can't be-"

"You're not dying. She stabbed you in the heart, but-"

"Yeah, I felt that. Nothing I need again any time soon. What did you say was that thing she used?" Mira said and finally sat up, as he wasn't trying to hold her down any more.

"DNA replication module?" he said, still slightly baffled by the whole situation. "But how? She stabbed you. Just like Lynley."

"Oh," she said and grabbed that egg-shaped device she was wearing around her neck, seemingly unconsciously. "Superior technology, I guess."

"What? How?" he asked.

"Later. As said, high time for witch-hunt," she said grimly and finally got up.

He had to support her for a moment, but then she stood steadily on her own feed. For a moment he caught Martha's glance, telling her that she had no idea what was going on. Well, that would have to wait as well.

"Come on then," he said, "The Globe!"


Mira's POV

She was still feeling a bit shaky as she followed the Doctor and Martha out of the house. Not so much because she was feeling physically ill, but because of how close it had just been. Well, it had been close before, but this time it had really felt like dying, at least like she thought dying would feel like.

"We're going the wrong way!" she heard Martha yell.

"Yeah," she said after getting her bearings. "We're wrong!"

"No, we're not!" the Doctor said, only to turn around a few moments later. "We're going the wrong way!"

By the time the got near the Globe, she could already see a red whirl above it, almost like fireflies over a bonfire.

"I told thee so! I told thee!" the preacher from earlier said, and Mira wondered for a moment if he would ever sleep or leave his place.

"Stage door!" the Doctor said and she followed him with Martha.

She could feel the chaos and panic inside the Globe before they entered. The audience was trying to run, but the witches had somehow shut and blocked the door. So the only way in was actually the stage door. She just hoped there would be no deaths because of the panic.

Once inside, they found Shakespeare lying on the floor, just coming round again.

"Stop the play," the Doctor yelled at him, not losing a single second. "I think that was it. Yeah, I said, stop the play!"

"I hit my head," Shakespeare said weakly.

"It was them, it's not his fault!" she said to the Doctor. He could really get a bit nasty when he was stressed.

"Yeah, I know," he said, and then to Shakespeare, "Don't rub it, you'll go bald."

Suddenly, the audience started to scream even louder. "I think that's my cue!" he said and ran off.

She followed him, hoping that Martha would do the same – although, probably it was better for her to stay here backstage. But when they reached the stage, she could see that Martha – and Shakespeare – were with them.

"Come on, Will! History needs you!" The Doctor said to Shakespeare.

"But what can I do?"

"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 Doctor tried to encourage him. "The only man clever enough to do it."

"But what words? I have none ready!"

"Well then improvise, God damn it!" she said to Shakespeare, who looked quite shocked. Well, not really an appropriate language for a woman at this time, she thought.

"You're William Shakespeare!" the Doctor fell in.

"But these Carrionite phrases, they need such precision."

"Trust yourself," the Doctor said. "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."

Finally Shakespeare stepped forward.

"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!" he said, first slightly unsure, but becoming more and more certain with each word. "Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points-"

"Seven six one three nine oh!" the Doctor whispered to him.

"Seven six one three nine oh!", Shakespeare continued. "Banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee"

"Expelliarmus!" Martha, the Doctor, Shakespeare and she herself said as once.

"Good old JK!" the Doctor added.

The Carrionites screamed inhumanely, as they were sucked – along with the pages of Loves Labour's Won – into a tornado, rotating in the middle of the Globe.

"Love's Labours Won. There it goes," she heard the Doctor say next to her ear.

And suddenly, the sky cleared with a flash and a bang. For a few moments, there was nothing but silence – silence that almost hurt the ears after all that noise. Then, someone started clapping, and soon everyone joined in.

What the hell?

Instead of screaming and running for their lives, they were clapping?

"They think it was all special effects?" Martha said, as baffled as she was.

"Your effect is special indeed," Shakespeare said and turned to Martha with a smile that left no room for interpretation.

"It's not your best line," Martha replied nonchalantly.

Suddenly she felt how the Doctor took her hand and pulled her with him – up to the balconies where he grabbed a crystal.

"There they are," he said and showed it to her.

Inside it, she could see all three of them scratching at the glass to get at him.

"They're stuck in there?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"For ever?"

"Well, unless someone lets them out, I suppose so..."

Well. If there ever was a fate worse than death...


Martha's POV

At the next morning they were back at the Globe, of course with Shakespeare. Mira and the Doctor were somewhere else, a fact that slightly bothered her. What was between him and her? Maybe she should just ask. Ask Mira, how long they have been together, or something like that. Something you would ask in a casual conversation.

"And I say, a heart for a hart and a dear for a deer," Shakespeare just said, trying to tell her a joke.

"I don't get it," she said.

"Then give me a joke from Freedonia."

"Okay, Shakespeare walks into a pub and the landlord says, Oi mate, you're Bard."

"That's brilliant," he replied. "Doesn't make sense, mind you, but never mind that. Now come here."

Suddenly he put his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him. Okey, that was slightly too fast for her taste. Then again, the Doctor had kissed her after knowing him for only a few hours, but that had been different. And, besides, he had slightly different hygienic standards.

"I've only just met you," she said and freed herself.

"The Doctor may never kiss you," he replied, making her feel as if hit by a bucket of cold water. How in hell would he know such things? "Why not entertain a man who will?" he added.

"I don't know how to tell you this, oh great genius, but your breath doesn't half stink," she said, and thankfully the Doctor and Mira came back, hopefully keeping Shakespeare from any more 'attacks'.

"Good props store back there," the Doctor said, wearing a small stiff ruff and an animal skull. "I'm not sure about this though. Reminds me of a Sycorax."

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

"I should be on ten percent. How's your head?" the Doctor replied.

"Still aching."

"Here, I got you this," the Doctor said and gave the ruff to him. "Neck brace. Wear that for a few days till it's better, although you might want to keep it. It suits you."

"What about the play?" she asked.

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

"There it should stay," Mira said darkly.

"My lost masterpiece."

"You could write it up again," she said before fully realising what she had just suggested.

"Yeah, better not, Will," the Doctor said immediately. "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."

"Hamnet?" she said utterly surprised, together with Mira.

"That's him."

"Hamnet?" she repeated.

"What's wrong with that?"

"Anyway, time we were off," the Doctor said. "I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot can scream for all eternity, and I've got to take Martha back to Freedonia."

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

"You what?" the Doctor said, utterly dumbfounded.

"You're from another world like the Carrionites, and Martha is from the future. And as for Lady Mira, she's from the future as well. It's not hard to work out. But you're not able to bring her back "That's incredible," the Doctor said. "You are incredible. And yes, you're right, I'm afraid."

Slowly but surely she deserved some answers, she was thinking. Where was Mira from? She shot her a quick look and noticed the sadness that past over the face of the other woman for a short moment.

"We're alike in many ways, Doctor." Shakespeare said. "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-" Shakespeare started.

Really? She had inspired him to those verses? Suddenly the two guys who had been in his room when they had entered the Inn for the first time appeared.

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

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

"Who?" she asked, having no idea whom they were talking about.

"Her Majesty. She's here," he said, and just now a fanfare sounded.

Elizabeth, definitely nearing the end of her live, entered, accompanied by two pikemen.

"Queen Elizabeth the First!" the Doctor said enthusiastically.

"Doctor?" the Queen replied, rather angry.

"What?"

"My sworn enemy."

"What?"

"Off with his head!"

"What?!"

"Never mind what, just run!," she said. "See you, Will, and thanks."

And off they went, the Doctor, Mira, and her.

"Stop that pernicious Doctor," she heard the Queen, but didn't dare to turn around.

No need for that anyway, she could hear the pikemen chasing them.

"Stop in the name of the Queen!"

"What have you done this time?" Mira asked. "You're not good with queens, are you?"

"How should I know? Haven't even met her yet. Still, can't wait to find out."

They finally reached the TARDIS and he shoved her inside, followed by Mira.

"That's something to look forward to. Ooh!" she heard him say, and he shut the door. Not a second too soon, she had seen the archer aiming at them as well. With a hollow knock she could hear the arrow hitting the door.


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