Chapter Eight

"So, that's it, then?" Rory said, staring through the glass floor.

"Basically… yeah."

"You're just going to let it go?"

"Yep."

"Oh." Rory paced around the console. "That's rather boring, isn't it?"

The Doctor looked up. As was usual when he felt he had nothing better to do, he was sitting on the swing beneath the console, attempting to fix the multitude of minor problems with his time machine. "Rory, do you know what happens when you annoy Amy a little too much?"

Rory chuckled. "Aha. You're scared of her."

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are absolutely terrified of her!" He laughed.

The Doctor leapt off the swing and clattered up the stairs. "I have absolutely no reason to be afraid of Amelia Pond."

"Oh, just admit it," Rory said. "It might do you some good."

"No," the Doctor answered, "I won't because Amy's doing something for me that's very important. We need Jane to trust us right now, and Amy's more likely to bring her to that conclusion than, well, a bow-tie wearing alien and a nurse from the future." He paused, flicking a few switches on the TARDIS' humming console. "And I'm not scared of her," he added. "Your wife's the least scariest thing in the entire—"

"Doctor!" Amy's voice called.

"Agh!"

The Doctor spun around. Amy had appeared at the top of the stairs, Jane several steps behind her. "Amy!" he said. "You caught me by surprise—"

"Scared," Rory said.

"Good to see you, good to see you," the Doctor continued, shooting an annoyed look at Rory. "Surprised, yes, because I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. Yeah."

"Okay," Amy said, looking back and forth between the Doctor and Rory. "Well, if you two are done, I think we have something a little more important to talk about." She clattered down the stairs. "Like what we're going to do about our little invisible friends."

"Amy," Jane interrupted. "If I may?"

"What? Oh. Yeah."

Jane remained at the top of the stairs, staring down at the console room with a firm look. "I confess that though I may not understand all of my strange circumstances, I do remember your words from before, Doctor," she said. "You told me that those creatures – Draghs – wanted my voice. They would kill me for it. When facing them earlier this evening, I had no choice but to believe you and to run. But I want answers. So talk. Please."

The Doctor leaned against the console. "The Dragh aren't creatures, Jane," he said slowly. "They're people from another world. But they don't need the same things that you or I might need to survive. They're essentially formless beings; shadows, really. But a little more substantial."

"Ghosts," Jane said.

"No, not ghosts! To be a ghost, you have to be dead, and these particular Draghs most certainly aren't dead," the Doctor said. "They're invisible; you hardly know they're there, unless you shine a very, very bright light on them, or throw something else on top of them. Like paint. Unfortunately, we're out of paint, because I had the one bucket and I haven't a bloody clue where the TARDIS put the storage room where I kept the rest of it."

"Get to the point, Doctor," Amy said.

The Doctor held up a hand. "Draghs need food, just like anyone else," he continued. "But they don't live off bread and water and beans on toast like you lot do. They live on the power of sound. For this lot, that means human voices. It sustains them, gives them shape. If they have enough of it, they become visible, and that's what they spend most of their time trying to do. Being invisible is pretty tough."

"But—"

"Right, hush!" the Doctor said. "Jane, there are three things you need to know. One: the Draghs have been living in your house for at least a week. Two: they've decided that your voice is going to save them from inevitable death. Three: if they take your voice, you will die. But let's not worry about that right now."

"Why?" Jane asked bluntly.

"We're moving."

With a loud bang, the TARDIS floor began to shake, sending its four occupants flying about the console room, trying to grab on to the closest thing to stop themselves from smashing into the walls. Amy and Rory, already accustomed to this sort of thing, rushed to nearby chairs. The Doctor caught hold of the console; Jane went flying past him, caught off guard by the sudden shuddering of the floor. He grabbed her hand at the last moment, preventing her from smashing into the railing.

"What's happening?" Amy shouted over the roar of the engines. "Did you hit something by accident?"

"No, no, no, no!" the Doctor said rapidly, trying to set Jane somewhere safe and take control of his ship at the same time. "It's not me, it's the Draghs!"

"What?" Rory said. "How? They're several billion light-years away!"

"And do you think that matters to a group of spectres who don't particularly care for interstellar distances?" the Doctor said. "Use your head, Rory – of course it doesn't! They've picked up a trail of thermal residue from the TARDIS when we left and they're using it to call us back. I can't stop it unless we jump forward in time!"

"So jump forward in time!" Amy yelled.

"I can't, we're stuck!"

He let go of Jane; she went flying into the railing, unable to keep her balance as the ship shook violently. Tripping over his own feet, the Doctor flailed at the controls, trying to coax the TARDIS into some form of action.

The console sparked, threatening to go up in flames. "No!" the Doctor shouted. "What are you doing? This is no time to act temperamental!"

Jane was sitting on the floor, sensing that it was too dangerous to her balance to stand. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"The Draghs are pulling us back to where we started," Amy said quickly.

"But they'll kill me!" Jane exclaimed. "If I go back, they'll find me—"

"Jane!" The Doctor spun around, leaving the still sparking console to its own endeavours, and crouched beside her. "Calm down," he said quietly. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You'll be safe, I promise."

"How?" she said. "How can I be? We have no plan—"

"Oh, Jane, Jane – haven't you guessed? I always have a plan. Half-baked or otherwise, I always have a plan, even if I'm making it up as I go along."

The TARDIS shuddered to a stop. The floor gave one last quake, and then there was silence. Everyone was holding their breaths.

The Doctor slowly got up. "I think that's it," he said finally.

"Are we here?" Rory asked.

"It seems so." The Doctor went to the monitor and looked out. The moonlit Steventon woods looked back at them. They had landed in a clearing, and so far there was nothing remarkable about it.

"I don't see anything," Rory said, looking over the Doctor's shoulder.

"Well, you wouldn't if they're invisible, now would you?" the Doctor said.

"You never know! Painted Dragh could still be out there."

"Looks like the storm's passed," Amy said. "What time is it?"

"Three o'clock in the morning," the Doctor said.

"Okay, then," Amy said. "It's three o'clock in the morning and we have some angry, hungry Draghs to take care of. Let's go kick their invisible backsides." She took another look at the monitor and marched off towards the doors.

The Doctor sprinted after her. "Amy, wait," he said, catching her at the door. "Just stay in here."

"Doctor," Amy began to protest.

"Let me do the talking."

"Talking?" Rory said. "You want to talk to them?"

"Well – yeah. Talking helps."

"Doctor, by your own admission, these creatures feed on the sound of the human voice!" Jane said. "You will only be giving them what they want!"

"It's a good thing that I don't have a human voice, then," the Doctor said. "Listen to me, you three – talking is just about the only choice we've got, so let me go out there and see if I can negotiate." He smirked. "And who knows? Maybe a Time Lord's voice is just scary enough to convince them to leave Jane alone." He glanced at them, a meaningful look in his eye. "Don't interrupt."

He pulled the door open and disappeared, slamming it behind him as if to emphasis his last request. Amy and Rory exchanged looks.

"Would I be correct in saying that I am not the only one who has a bad feeling about this?" Jane asked as they grouped around the monitor.

"Absolutely," Amy said, her eyes glued to the screen.

They watched as the Doctor casually stepped into the clearing, hands in his pockets, and waited. He glanced around, searching for any signs of the Draghs. The woods looked very much like an ordinary forest in the moonlight; however, this was an occasion where all was not as it seemed.

Those types of occasions happened with a rather frightening frequency.

"Oh, come on!" the Doctor said. "I know you're there. Just because you're invisible doesn't mean you have to hide. What do you want me to do? Whistle a jaunty tune while I wait for you to show up?"

A breeze stirred the leaves on the nearby trees.

"You called me back," the Doctor continued. "You hijacked my TARDIS' controls. Very clever, manipulating the thermal residue, I didn't even consider that. But not clever enough, because now I'm just irritated instead of impressed. So, come on, let's get this over and done with."

Something rustled on the other side of the clearing.

"They're a talkative bunch," Amy muttered.

"You're really not funny," the Doctor called. "That's the trouble with invisible people, they have such rotten senses of humour!" He surveyed the area coolly. "Now I'm going to ask nicely, and I'm only going to ask once. Come out and talk like decent, civilized Draghs, or I'm going to have to put my foot down."

The wind whistled through the trees.

"And what would you have us say, Time Lord?" The voice that spoke was hoarse and whispery, very much like the wind itself. It was neither male nor female and it lacked the cadence that most species had. For a being that thrived on the sound of a voice, its own voice was remarkably monotone.

Jane paled. Nothing could be seen on the monitor's screen, but she trembled at the sound of the Dragh's voice.

"Would you have us cease our hunt and give in to death?" the Dragh whispered.

"Everything lives and everything dies," the Doctor said. "Not even you can avoid that."

"Hypocritical words from the man who runs from death," the voice said. "You seek to circumvent your own fate at every turn. Why can we not do the same? As long as it lives, every being seeks to continue its way of life. We are old, but we do not yet welcome death. We cannot depart from this world yet."

"Even so, that does not give you the right to take a young woman's life simply to perpetuate your own!"

"Not even for the survival of our species?"

"Her life isn't yours to take!"

"She has the voice. Her words can sustain us for another millennium."

Amy and Rory glanced at Jane. She said nothing, her brow furrowed, a strange look in her eye as she continued to watch the screen.

"And what then?" the Doctor said coldly. "So you live for another thousand years, and then run into exactly the same problem. What will you do then? Take another voice? Another life?"

"There will always be new voices. It is how we exist—"

"No, it's not! That is not how you exist! You listen. You feed on words and voices, and then you depart. That is how your brethren live. You do not drain someone completely!"

"It is not enough to merely listen. Our race has moved on. We crave more than simply sound."

"That doesn't mean you can kill."

"It is one life, Time Lord. One life, one voice, to sustain the lives of dozens. Which would you rather kill? One single being, or many?"

"None, if I can help it," the Doctor said.

"There are only two options: which would you choose?"

"Neither," the Doctor said. "No one has to die today – not Jane, nor you."

The swirl of wind. "Do you offer a compromise, Time Lord?"

"Yes."

"We accept. The Time Lord's voice shall be taken instead."

"What? No!" The Doctor stepped back. "I never said that! I was suggesting something completely dif—"

"No matter. You offered a compromise, and that compromise is your own voice. We do not crave it, but we shall have it."

The Doctor held up his hands. "Slow down, hear me out before you do anything hasty—"

"It is decided. The Time Lord's voice has been chosen."

"No," Jane hissed. "I won't allow it!" She spun, propelling herself towards the door. Amy caught her just in time.

"Jane, you can't go out there!"

"I can't let him to that!" Jane shouted, trying to throw her off. "Let me go! I will not have him sacrifice himself for me. The Draghs can take my voice, I don't care!"

"Jane, he wouldn't want you to do that!" Amy said, barely managing to keep her from flying out the TARDIS doors. "There has to be another way to save the Doctor."

"We don't have any time to come up with a plan!" Jane said, finally staying put in one place.

Amy looked around and spotted a discarded torch on a nearby seat. She ran over and picked it up. "Let's see how well they do with this again," she said. "If I can do anything, it's scream. I'll scream until they've all run away, the miserable, invisible—"

"Amy," Rory interrupted.

"We've got to do something!" Amy snapped. "We can't just sit in here—"

"I have an idea."

"What? Oh." Amy looked up at him. "What's this brilliant idea of yours?"

"I don't know if it's brilliant," Rory said, "but it may be the only chance we've got. Where's the library?"

Amy frowned. "Now is not the time to go looking for books!"

"Yeah, but in this case we do need a book," Rory said. "We need a copy of Pride and Prejudice and some kind of hologram."

Amy froze. "Will that even work?" she asked. "Won't that break some kind of time continuity?"

"I have no bloody idea, but apart from charging out there with buckets of paint and a torch, what else have we got?" Rory said.

Amy smiled tightly, sprinting across the console room and throwing her arms around his neck. "Go down the corridor, take the fourth right, then the second left and it's the third door on your right," she said. "Love you."

She kissed him.

"Be careful," he murmured.

"I will."

"I'm serious, Amy."

"So am I."

She kissed him again and turned brusquely to Jane. "Go with Rory," she said. "He's got an idea, and it may not work, but at least we can try." She ran towards the door at full speed. "I'm going to hold them off as best I can. No promises though, so make it quick I'll see you soon."

"Amy!" Jane called, but she had already disappeared through the door.

"Come on," Rory said. "We haven't got a lot of time, and I honestly don't know how long this will take."

"Where are we going?" Jane asked as they sprinted up the stairs and into the labyrinthine halls of the TARDIS interior.

"Library," Rory said. "The Draghs want words, so we're going to give them some – and I don't think they'll like it."

Rory had never been in the library before and when he first entered, he thought their plan was a lost cause. It was entirely in character for the Doctor to have a massive supply of books, but the sheer amount stored within the TARDIS made his idea seem downright impossible.

"What are you looking for?" Jane asked, staring at the rows of books with an unflinching gaze.

"Don't get the wrong idea," he answered, "but it's one of your books."

She paused. "Okay."

"You… you wouldn't happen to know where he would keep them?"

"Amy told me not to look for them." Jane paused. "But I do know libraries very well, and how different can the Doctor's library be from the ones with which I am familiar?"

"Honestly," Rory said, "I don't want to take bets."

They split up and began their search, combing the shelves back and forth. As time trickled by, Rory began to feel that they wouldn't succeed. They would be defeated by the Draghs simply because the Doctor's library was too bloody big. It was a rather depressing thought, but he kept coming back to it as their search became more and more futile.

He was about to give up when suddenly he found it. Pride and Prejudice was sitting between a large textbook about fifty-first century politics and a slender volume about different types of grasses.

No wonder finding anything in here's impossible, Rory thought. He pulled it off the shelf and rushed to the centre of the library.

"Jane! Jane! I've got it!"

She appeared quickly and ran down the steps. "Did you?"

He held up the book. "Come on, this isn't over yet."

They sprinted back to the console room.

"I have to admit," Jane said, panting for breath as they clattered down the stairs, "I never thought wearing trousers could be a good thing, but considering the amount of running I seem to be doing, they have been useful."

Rory laughed. "I'll pass your enthusiasm for twenty-first century fashion on to Amy," he said. "Here," he added, throwing her the book, "take this. Read it over while I figure out how to work this."

The TARDIS controls were confusing at first glance, but Rory had been travelling with the Doctor for long enough to know the basics. He was thankful that he had had the opportunity to know that the TARDIS could record material, otherwise this plan probably would not work.

"Okay," he said after a moment of pressing buttons, "I think I've got it set up right. Jane—" He stopped.

Jane was standing still, frozen like a statue, her eyes glued to the first page of Pride and Prejudice. A strange noise escaped between closed lips.

"…Jane?"

"My words," she said quietly. "These are… this book… this…" She paused and looked up, her eyes streaming with held-back tears. "This is mine."

"Yeah. Are you okay?"

"I… I don't know." She sniffed. "I knew that I would be published one day, but to have the physical evidence in my hands, it's…" She trailed off. "I don't think there's even a word for it."

"Crazy?" Rory supplied.

She laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. "I suppose you could say that, yes." She looked down, her eyes scanning the first page. "I remember writing this," she said, marvelling at the wonder in her hands. "I remember considering every single word, every sentence. I see I must have made a few changes, but it's still the same. It's still my story."

Rory exhaled. "Yes," he said. "It is. And there are lots of people, Jane, thousands of people every day who love that story of yours. You're brilliant, Jane. It might take you years to get published, but you'll do it. The Doctor won't want me telling you this, but I think it's important. Otherwise, why are we bothering at all to save your stories? Your novels are wonderful, Jane, and there's your proof. And now we need to save them."

"And the Doctor," Jane added, smiling tightly.

"Yes, and the Doctor. Are you ready?"

Jane cleared her throat. "Yes."