Chapter 7

The Sky Above Skies

At the last possible moment, the plane soared back, up, up into the blackness that lurked beyond the treetops. It was a stifling melanic dark up here.

Amy shouted 'Doctor? How do you know where to go? We'll get lost up here!'.

She looked down at the forest and the mirror-path molten, nestled in the ever-shadow . The smooth waters of the pool and the meteor were aurulent, split only by the ripples. Far away, she heard the distant crash of the mighty falls, getting fainter and fainter as the plane gained height.

'Hold on, Pond!' The Doctor shouted. Then a horrible thrust shook the aircraft, chucking Rory and Amy carelessly to the end of the plane like ragdolls. Amy groaned and struggled to free herself from Rory.

'What was that?'

'We just came out of Peripheral Park. It has a forcefield'.

Then she saw a beautiful sight. The blackness was fading into a deep, dark cerulean blue. She gasped and the blue paled to a soft cyaneous colour, and suddenly they were sweeping through a high cold, breezy sky, filled with monstrous clouds of grey and white. She had almost forgotten what blue sky looked like. Below, was the planet they had wanted to go to in the first place, Feleros, a planet which was entirely hollowed out. There was a chamber where a hole running right through the middle of the planet through which you could see through to both ends, The Doctor had told them. It was a sunny moorland with rocks and crags and waterfalls crashing down. But right in the middle, on the crown of huge sweeping hill, a forest of dark shadow. She noticed where the mirrors ended. There was a beam of sunlight falling straight on the last one, by a waterfall with raged through the bows.

'Doctor?', Amy began, 'the forest is-'

'yes, yes, its bigger on the inside, Amy!'

'Doctor? Why aren't we being blown out of the plane?' Rory yelled.

'I put a forcefield around us, the metal wasn't practical! Amy, can you grab one of those crates of salt?'.

'For what?'

'The clouds here are warm. We need to sprinkle the salt on the clouds to make it rain, even though we've got out, we still need the TARDIS.' Rory picked up one and went to the doorway, 'how much do we use, Doctor?'

'Be liberal, but not gluttonous! The clouds here will be more susceptible than Earth clouds, a storm is the last thing we need'.

'Yeah, that helps..' Amy joined her husband and picked up a handful. She shook it on the clouds, nothing happened.

'Give it a moment!' The Doctor shouted. Amy took another handful and shook it evenly over the clouds, Rory joined her. The Doctor turned the plane in loops and bends, evidently having master the stick. Amy and Rory shook the salt over the skies, handful after handful.

'Woooo!' exclaimed The Doctor, twisting the plane this way and that, and the others couldn't help but join in.

'There's no more salt, Doctor', said Amy at last, gripping the bars of the doorway and leaning out. The Doctor turned the plane around and stared at the clouds.

'Doctor, its not working'

And it did appear nothing had changed.

'The clouds must be too cold', The Doctor moaned. 'I misjudged it. I'm sorry, but I don't think we'll be seeing the TARDIS ever again'. Had he been on his own, The Doctor would have happily turned around and gone back to Peripheral Park, to find the TARDIS, to search forever even if it was in vain, at least until the dryads caught up with him. But he had Rory and Amy to think about. Had he failed them?

'Look!' Amy roused him from his thoughts.

The clouds turned from whey to a glossless grey, and then to dark smoke-like hue.

In the silent darkness of Peripheral Park, a dryad sat by a dry mound of earth, earth that was almost dust. It was dying, surely, as it was, crumbling like ancient paper. Then there was a light tap and something cold hit its hand. A raindrop rolled down its hand. It soaked in immediately, healing the peeling bark. Then there was another and another. The dryad turned its head up and suddenly, thousands of droplets were falling, everywhere, anywhere! On the leafs, and the dry dead grass and the cracked stony ground. The mirrors' images blurred as the rain fell on them, smoothing the dusty surface.

Dryads appeared from behind trees, and held out their arms to the rain. From ochre to burnished gold to pale sand, to green. The bark grew back fast, cladding them in Oak and Ash, Willow and Hazel, Rowan and Birch bark. They had almost forgotten who they were. The darkness vanished, fading away, as light flooded in, and the waters and the mirrors shone like small stars.

The Doctor blinked. The forest was gone, and there stood the TARDIS about 50 feet below them. The plane dropped height considerably, with The Doctor guiding it down to earth.

'Doctor?'

'Hmm, yes?'

'Why didn't the forest take the TARDIS with it?'

'The TARDIS doesn't move unless she wants to'.

'O.'

The Doctor opened the TARDIS door and strolled inside. The others followed him.

'What will happen to the dryads?'

'Oh.. they'll be alright. I'm surprise you care, after what happened to you, Pond'. He flexed his fingers and skipped over to the console.

'Well, they didn't mean to, did they? I mean they could sense the water in my body, right?'

'How very human of you, Pond, forgiving so easily, something I wish more races would encourage. But nobody knows, no one's ever heard a dryad speak, and when they try its already too late. Its impossible to tell how they see us, or if they even consider us at all. They are very old, the dryads, so people (even time lords) don't count for much.'

'So,' said Rory, 'where are we going?'

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get any further, the telephone rang. The Doctor picked it up.

'Yes, yes, we'll be right there!'. The Doctor put the phone down.

'Who was that?'

'That was Acrethorn Orphanage. They need a doctor.'