'You said the plan was to stay out of the cages,' Rose said, accusingly, as they were shoved out of the Sanctuary, strong leather-gloved hands clutching at their arms and napes.

'It was,' the Doctor said through his wincing. 'Still is.' But Rose struggled to find the trust she'd used to have in him.

'What have you done?' asked Virgil. He was trailing them, looking horrified.

'Yeah, that didn't go so well,' the Doctor said apologetically. 'Bit of a miscalculation on my part, I'm afraid.

'A bit?' asked Rose.

'Your new pets will be executed tomorrow,' Brandomyr said, gleefully. 'Public display.'

They were being led outside into the warmth of the sun, which seemed to mock them now, illuminating their embarrassment. Illantis gathered everywhere, throwing curious glances, their wicked tongues already spreading juicy gossip. The guard led them toward the central spiral where square cages hung from the beams at its top, and the wooden cabin sat at its base.

The Doctor whispered, 'You have that bean-thing, that whatdoyoucallit?'

Rose remembered; third pocket to the left, easy to handle. But the guard's hands were clutching her wrists together, making it almost impossible for her to reach it.

'There hasn't been anyone inside those for quite a while,' Brandomyr gloated, pointing his halberd at the cages.

The Doctor squinted against the bright daylight. 'Let me guess. Rent too high?'

'What?'

'Not comfortable enough?' the Doctor tried again. 'They don't seem very comfortable to me. All those metal bars. But what do I know, I'm a human, not a bird.'

Brandomyr's eyes suddenly blazed with fury. He pushed the Doctor so hard, he stumbled to the floor. The other guard holding Rose stopped, and Rose realised the Doctor was giving her a distraction. So they were improvising now. At least this part felt familiar.

'What did you just call me?' Brandomyr did little to conceal the threat clearly swinging in his voice.

'Oi! You're the one who keeps calling me human! I mean, you're not wrong, technically, but it's still hurtful, you know? Have you ever been to a dentist? Absolute horror show.'

Rose felt for the right pocket, trying her best not to move her wrist and alert the guard holding her arm.

'How about I cut you up a little bit before we put you into that cage?'

'And just last week I dropped a wrench onto my big toe, and I can still feel that! Normally that'd be over in a couple minutes, but that really took me out, that blow to my right foot. As if someone deliberately stepped onto it. Heels first, straight smack down onto my right foot.'

Rose glanced at Brandomyr's feet; she'd already figured out that the ornate armour was more for show than practical, since it had to be light enough to let them fly. But now she realised that their feet were clad in simple leather, bare of any armour.

She glanced downward, raised her right foot, and planted it with all her might onto the toes of the guard standing behind her. While she was rewarded with a painful cry, she quickly wrestled out of his grip, pushed him aside with a blow from her elbow, and pulled out the stun-bean from its tiny pocket. Brandomyr had only just turned to see what she was doing, when she jabbed her thumb into the activation mechanism and flung the device high into the air.

While Rose and the Doctor ducked away, closing their eyes and covering their ears, everyone else stared at the little bean, watching as it began to glow, a bright dot arching through the air. They had just enough time to figure out that they should cover their eyes and ears like Rose and the Doctor, but it was too late for them.

Every Illantis experienced the same thing: Their vision was blanketed in endless white, every sound drowned out by a high-pitched scream like the tinnitus after an explosion. While they were busy rubbing their eyes and shouting in panic and confusion, Rose caught the discharged stun grenade before she and the Doctor took off past the disoriented royal guards, towards the little wooden cabin at the base of the central tower.

Rose's triumph was short-lived. Brandomyr must have noticed their presence somehow, because he spun around, and swerved the back of his halberd right into her stomach. The air was forced from her lungs, and with a painful groan she staggered backwards, dropping to her hands and knees.

'Rose!' the Doctor shouted.

She knew that there was no time to lose. The effect of the grenade would wear off quickly. She staggered to her feet and immediately jumped backwards as the blade of a halberd cut through the air right in front of her. The blinded royal guards were slashing their deadly blades in her direction! Somehow they could see her; perhaps their genetic enhancement allowed them to recover faster?

Rose began to panic. The guards had cut her off from the Doctor. He was jumping up and down behind them, pointing at a building to her right side. It was small, made of stone, and one of the windows in its side was open. It looked just wide enough.

'I'll be fine! Now go!' the Doctor shouted and turned to run.

'Doctor!' she shouted after him, but it only made the guards react to her voice. Clenching her fists, she ran up to the building and went through the open window face first, clawing her way inside. To her dismay, she found that the floor level was much deeper than outside, and when she reached for something to hold onto, her hands found nothing. Gracelessly, she dropped to the ground, barely managing not to fall on her face.

She was in a small chamber filled with dirty laundry. A door stood wide open, and faint voices reached her ear: people shouting outside. Quickly, she left the room and snuck down a corridor, ears pricked for footsteps that might surprise her. All she could hear were the faint voices of people chatting at low volume. They either hadn't noticed the chaos outside, or they didn't care.

She peeked around a corner into a big bathroom with a wide pool in its centre, fed by a large fountain in its middle. A couple of naked Illantis were hanging out in it, gossiping eagerly.

Rose turned down the other corridor, and ended up before a heavy looking metal door.

She carefully lifted the rusty handle, and somehow managed to swing the door open without making too much noise. A few moments later she had descended into what appeared to be a sort of waste-water system. There were tunnels leading both left and right.

She pulled out a small communicator and typed a message into it. 'Are you OK?' The message wouldn't make a sound when it reached the Doctor; he just had to remember to check his device.

She waited, wondering what she'd do if he didn't remember, or if he was still fleeing, or already captured. But after a minute, he had written back.

'Everything hunky-dory,' his text said, followed by a number of happy emojis that made Rose laugh with relief. 'Can't tell where I am. Sit tight. Don't wander off. TTYL.'

Rose rolled her eyes. As if she would voluntarily wander through the castle's sewage system.

Though, realistically, there wasn't much else she could do at the moment. Who knew how long the Doctor would take on his end? 'What's the plan?' she texted next.

His response came barely a moment after she'd hit send.

'Wait a smidge, then spill some bread crumbs.'

She frowned, but another text arrived right away.

'A smidge = 1 hour BTW.'

It didn't take her long to understand. Breadcrumbs – to attract the pigeons. The Doctor probably knew how to talk them out of trouble, so her job was simply to wait, and then let herself get captured. She grimaced, hoping he hadn't miscalculated this time.

She glanced down the dark, empty corridors, weighing her options. The Doctor was probably doing something really useful. And didn't Virgil mention something about an evil thing lurking beneath the castle?

So she pulled out a mapping tool, and began to explore the wet, stinking darkness underneath Castle Miramys.

Two minutes earlier, the Doctor had barged into the little wooden cabin, where he came to stare at an old man in front of him. He was an oddity for several reasons; the big, round spectacles, the almost comically accurate wizard's hat, the long tuft of white hair descending from his chin, reaching far down his squat, round shape.

But most striking of all was the absence of wings. He was no Illanti. 'Hello,' the Doctor greeted. 'Who are you, then? The cook?'

The man stared back across a large pot filled with boiling, delicious-smelling onion soup. From outside, sounds of the commotion carried over to them, making the old man furrow his brows, but the Doctor feigned ignorance. Hands in pockets, he walked around, letting his eyes wander over the fantastic drawings that covered nearly every square inch of the cabin walls. 'Not a cook, but a tinkerer. Blimey, there's a lot of technology that's not supposed to be here.'

'Technology...' the man repeated, whispering to himself. He began to move, putting the scoop he was holding back into the pot and quickly taking off his chef's robe. He turned left and right, but the little cabin was so crowded with paperwork that he had trouble finding a good spot to place it.

'I reckon you know something about the Dragon's Bane, yes?'

'Oh, I certainly do,' he said, balling the robe and promptly throwing it into a large tub filled with water, which the Doctor immediately realised was formed from a hull part of the rocket ship Andoria. The tag 'made in Brazil' was unmistakable.

'My name is Qu'alandari," the old man introduced himself, "First Advisor to King Miramys, the First of his name, Leader of–'

'Please,' the Doctor interrupted, 'can I just call you Alonso? For the sake of my lifespan.'

Qu'alandari stared for a moment. 'Right. There's never enough time, is there? But I do need to know why you're here, and indeed, who you are, if I am to continue this conversation.'

'Right.' The Doctor sucked in a deep breath. 'I'm an expert and I've come to offer my help. With your big machine.'

The man looked stunned. 'Did the king send you?'

In that moment, Brandomyr's furious voice echoed from outside, carrying into the cabin. 'Find them!'

The old man suddenly looked concerned.

'Well, not exactly,' the Doctor said, answering an unspoken question. He started to look around for a good hiding place, while his words continued flowing. 'He didn't like me criticising him, I think. His loss, really, because I know machines, big ones, small ones, weird ones, especially the weird ones, and they all have something in common: they're really hard to keep in shape if you don't have the right parts available, or if you don't know the first thing about them. I reckon the Dragon's Bane is keeping you up all day and night, isn't it?'

A shadow zoomed past a window, and footsteps pounded in front of the door to the little cabin – the cue for the Doctor to scramble underneath the table. The door was pulled open not a moment later, and two leather-clad feet entered. 'Forgive the intrusion, First Advisor,' Brandomyr's voice said. 'We are hunting two human intruders.'

For a moment, the Doctor considered the possibility that his improvised plan would turn out to be another giant miscalculation.

'I haven't seen another human in a decade,' Qu'alandari said. The Doctor grinned.

Brandomyr left, gingerly closing the door, and the Doctor swooped out from underneath the table. 'Right then. I see we have an understanding.'

The old man nodded sadly. 'It is hard to find an expert of any sort among the angel-kin.'

'Makes sense. They must be so busy looking good.'

'But what about your friend? He mentioned two humans.'

'Oh, that's right! I completely forgot! Wait a smidgen, would you?'

'A smidgen?'

'Yes, a smidgen. You don't say that here? Funny word. Anyhow.' He pulled out the communicator Rose had handed him, and wasn't surprised to find a message there.

He quickly composed a response, and then a plan of action, anticipating her next question.

He smiled thoughtfully at the Torchwood communicator. It was waterproof, like the rest of her equipment. What a brilliant girl. He turned to Qu'alandari with a happy smile. 'I almost forgot to wear socks today.'

'I see.'

He sent his texts and packed the device away, meeting the advisor's stare. 'Right, then! How do we get up there?' the Doctor asked, pointing to the top of the tower.

The Doctor watched as two Illantis servants carried the round-bellied advisor through a hole in the roof of the little wooden cabin. They flapped quite strenuously, ascending slowly, jerkily, past the swinging cages to the top of the tower. Clearly they were not in Royal-Guard-shape.

They reappeared right away and swooped down to pick up the Doctor, hidden beneath a cloak. The Doctor smiled as he watched groups of Illantis search the ground below. None of them even considered looking up. They didn't notice that the servants had gone back and were bringing up a second hooded figure.

Slowly, they ascended, rising along the side of the tower, passing by the swinging cages and the long metal exhaust pipe that still spat grey smog into the air.

They placed the Doctor on a wooden balcony at the top of the tower. The old man raised his finger at the servants. 'Nicholas, Fidelius: not a word to anyone!'

They nodded dutifully, glancing warily at the Doctor. 'Come back in thirty minutes.'

'An hour,' interjected the Doctor.

Qu'alandari nodded. 'An hour. Not earlier. If the king learns of him being here, the entire Dale could be in danger.'

The two angels nodded. 'You can trust us.' Then they walked to the edge of the balcony and let themselves fall.

The Doctor couldn't help but smile. 'Ah, fraternisation. Nice change of pace.'

'Being nice to people brings a lot of benefits,' said the advisor.

The Doctor nodded in agreement; now he would finally be able to catch a break and work on his list: figure out what's wrong with this world, get rid of the dragon, teach the king a lesson, and make sure they don't get executed.

The top of the tower was a wide, circular room, its walls lined with shelves and work benches that were cluttered with gadgets, tools, and unfinished projects. It reminded him of the shed he had left behind on earth – except here, nearly every tool or disassembled machine part he recognised was from a different world and time. He saw weapons lying next to vacuums, fire extinguishers and shower heads. Everything looked rickety and sci-fi to the unknowing eye. Thankfully, there was nothing with too much destructive force, or other significant applications, like self-recharging power cells. The wrong piece of technology in the wrong hands in the wrong time could easily lead to an absolute catastrophe.

The centre of the room was clean, and there even lay a gold-bordered purple carpet on the floor, leading straight to a brilliant alien apparatus. 'The Dragon's Bane, I presume?'

'You presume correctly, Doctor.'

Its shape was relatively simple; it consisted of two ATM-like elements, with an alcove in the middle, but its surface was made of dark metal, reflecting the sunlight like a mirror, casting swaths of a golden glow against the walls and gadget-filled shelves.

'Varrachian pacifier,' the Doctor whispered. If Rose was here, he'd tell her about the brutal slaver-race, and their habits of suppressing their slaves' wills by tapping into their minds. Then she'd probably notice the two red lights on the screen of the left element, and everything would get pretty explanation-y, pretty fast.

He walked around the machine, eyeing it from various sides, while observing Qu'alandari out of the corner of his eye – that is, until he spotted something on a second balcony that threw him completely off. 'Brilliant!' he exclaimed and rushed out into the open, where a construct of wood and linen sat on the small platform, like a motionless animal, gazing at the vast countryside. 'That's a glider!' he beamed. 'And it's not even a bad one! Mind you, it's rubbish, it'll likely kill whoever's stupid enough to use it, but still!' He grinned at the old man, who had followed him outside. 'Did you envy the angels' wings?'

The advisor chuckled. 'This contraption is the work of the king's son, Virgilius. Quite a handy craftsman. If only his other ideas were less... worrisome.'

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. 'What, like equality between humans and angels?'

The old man coughed demonstratively, and his expression grew careful. 'Those matters are not for me to weigh in on. Please, let's go back to the issue at hand.'

The Doctor gave the man a long look. 'Right,' he said then, locking his hands behind his back and casually sauntering through the room. 'I have decided not to help you.'

Qu'alandari looked confused. 'Why the sudden change of mind?'

'Not as long as you keep pretending.'

The advisor looked absolutely flabbergasted.

The Doctor stopped, and casually glanced at the device fixed to the advisor's wrist. 'Your shimmer isn't exactly concealed.'

The old man deflated. He raised his arm and pressed a button on the device – and promptly turned into a dappled green man, with long, pointy extrusions growing out of his head instead of hair.

'Gotcha!' the Doctor grinned.