Chapter 6-The Alcazar
When you think about stepping through a portal, you expect a great, whooshing journey full of darkness and mystery; honestly, it's just like stepping from one room to another. Not very exciting, in my opinion.
The Doctor, Herod, and I suddenly found ourselves in the ruins of a crashed spaceship. After checking for any sign of the Craggaron, we began our careful journey through the ship, going as quietly as we could. Lights flickered dimly as we passed under them, and the ship creaked and groaned as we walked through it, mindful of where we placed our steps. Herod was asking questions left and right, but the Doctor kept shushing him. I didn't know who to feel sorry for: Herod, who was asking all the questions I wanted to, or the Doctor, because Herod clearly wasn't getting the message that we needed quiet.
It looked like the remains we were walking through used to be a grand, beautiful vessel. You know how when someone says, "space ship," and you start thinking all metal walls and Star Trek teleports? Well, this ship looked like the inside of a castle that had gone to ruin centuries ago. The only thing unnatural about it was the artificial lighting that shined out of sconces in the corners. Instead of metal, the walls, ceiling and floor were made of now-crumbling stone. Herod's curious voice was echoing away. There were vines and small growths of grass between the cracks in the stone.
"Doctor…?" I whispered, finally breaking. "Doctor, how could this be a spaceship?"
"The planet of Cragg is made up of rock that's less dense than Earth's," the Doctor explained. "Plus, they found ways to manipulate the properties of the rock to specific purposes."
"So they get their rocks customized, and then build spaceships with them," I clarified (although it wasn't very clear at all).
"Exactly," the Doctor said.
Finally, we came upon a massive door, slightly ajar. It was at least fifteen feet tall! "Was this really a good idea, Doctor?" I asked, eyeing the incredibly large doorway.
"It's better than trying to invade Russia in the middle of winter," the Doctor replied. He snuck up very close to the door and carefully peeked around it.
"What's in there?" I asked when the Doctor retracted his head.
"Flight deck," the Doctor answered. "It looks all clear. Hurry in!" He gestured for Herod and I to run in, looking over our shoulders as we ran past. There stood the control panel, raised too high to be comfortable for a human, but operational for one. Across the room was an identical doorway, in which the door lay, ripped off its hinges. Above that doorway, carved elegantly into the stone, was the word Alcazar—the name of the ship.
"Herod, guard the door we just came in," the Doctor ordered as he joined us. "Erica, the one over there."
"What'll you do?" I asked as Herod obediently went to his post.
"I'll try to get the ship operational," the Doctor answered, drawing up to the flight controls. The control desk was bizarrely constructed: it was mostly stone, but all the levers and buttons and lights were made of metal. The controls reached about chest level on the Doctor as he began working; with his arms raised absurdly to reach the controls, he looked like was treading water.
I went to the torn-down door and took up my watch, hiding in the foot of space between the doorjamb and the wall. I was peering into the hall, on high alert for any sign of movement (I was reminded horribly of the Basilisk in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets—I was always so scared of it). And so we fell in: the Doctor working feverishly and talking to himself while Herod and I watched the halls in fearful silence. I didn't understand much of the Doctor's monologue (which meant Herod understood so much less), but it sounded like things weren't going according to plan.
"What's the status on the ship, Doctor?" I asked worriedly.
"Well," the Doctor began, drawing the word out. "It seems that the Craggaron has locked the ship's takeoff systems."
"Can you disable them?"
"With time, yes."
"How much time?"
"…Quite a lot."
"Then the beast will no doubt have found us then," Herod said resolutely. He removed something from inside the folds of his toga, something the light gleamed off of. It was a large, circular blade: a scythe. Herod saw me staring at it and explained, "It is a souvenir of my time in Turkey. I thought our expedition might require a blade."
Finally the Doctor turned around. "No, no, NO!" he said, so quickly I could hardly tell one 'no' from another. "Absolutely NO weapons!"
"Sir, are you asking me not to fight this creature?" Herod spat.
"Yes, I am!" the Doctor retorted.
"Why shouldn't I?"
"Because it might be willing to negotiate!" the Doctor said, half-wearily and half-worriedly. "This is intelligent life, Herod; intelligent life from another world, and you would go and kill it?"
"If it is 'intelligent', as you say, would it have murdered Hekate and countless others?"
The Doctor was silent and shocked; so was I. Herod looked like an angry bull. "I will go find it," Herod said, breathing like he'd just won a race. He stalked away, the scythe swinging at his side.
I looked back at the Doctor only once before I turned and ran after Herod.
"Erica!" the Doctor called, my name echoing off the walls. It brought me up short: he had called after me now the same way he'd called after me in the furniture showroom, just before I'd seen the Craggaron.
I turned around. "I'll be careful," I vowed. My word didn't seem to soothe the Doctor: he looked almost stricken, like he'd never see me again. "I promise."
His jaw tightened, and he nodded.
I spun on my heel and bolted through the Alcazar's hallways, searching frantically for the gleam of the scythe or the shadow of a toga on the wall. I considered calling Herod's name out, but someone other than he might respond. So I ran through the ship, hoping I wasn't too late.
He couldn't have gone that far, I thought as I approached a corner. Suddenly, a huge shadow flew into the light. It was an arm raising a curved sword, poised and ready.
"Herod!" I exclaimed. "Herod, it's only me. It's only Erica." The shadow hand tightened its grip on the scythe, but then the arm lowered, and the entire shadow disappeared as Herod stepped around the corner.
"Erica?" he questioned. "Why did you come after me?"
"You ran off without backup," I answered. "That's as stupid as invading…oh, wait, that hasn't happened yet. Well, it's stupid and unsafe. I couldn't let you run off like that."
"But you left the Doctor alone."
"The Doctor's fine. He'll see the Craggaron coming if it does. But we need to get back to him, quickly."
"Very well," Herod sulked. Part of me didn't blame him: having to apologize was not fun.
"Don't worry," I soothed. "The Doctor will understand." If the Doctor could forgive me, then he could forgive Herod of the same thing.
Suddenly, a terrified yell rang through the stone walls, long and lingering. Herod and I both knew exactly who the scream belonged to: the Doctor.
We were running before I even remember deciding to. Herod sprinted alongside me, the scythe swinging viciously between us. Our steps echoed off the walls, but neither of us cared: we just had to get to the Doctor in time.
The massive doorway suddenly sprang in front of us, waiting for someone to pass through it. Herod and I bolted through it and the Doctor's predicament suddenly became clear to us.
The Craggaron had appeared in the control deck, and was pinning the Doctor to the wall with one stony hand. It was a huge, hulking creature, at least twice the size of a human. Its legs were stone, as well as parts of the torso. There were rocky patches on its arms and shoulders, but nothing too serious. It was hard to tell if the head was intact, because it looked gray but also soft. In fact, the head was the least human-looking thing about it: you could barely see it around the giant flaps of rocky, cracked skin that jutted out from the neck. You ever see those lizards whose weird collars suddenly appear out of their necks when they get scared? It was kinda like that.
"Foul beast!" Herod cried, raising his scythe and throwing it. The scythe spun end over end before the point sank into one of the still-fleshy parts of the Craggaron (I would've praised his aim if I hadn't been so horrified). The Doctor looked up from his battle with the Craggaron's hand and found Herod and I standing there, scared but determined.
The sight of us seemed to scare him, too.
"Erica, run!" the Doctor yelled, pained. "Get out of here!"
Slowly, the Craggaron turned toward us, taking its hand from the Doctor, who collapsed to the ground in a heap. Its face was grotesque: four small, black eyes; a wide, flat nose; and a huge, snarling, mouth. The Craggaron reached around and plucked the scythe from its back, the wound beginning to crust up into stone.
So that's how it works, I thought. The Craggaron lifted the scythe up and pulled its arm back, getting ready to use its newfound weapon. I dove behind the control panel, dragging Herod with me, as the scythe flew through the air we'd just been standing in and embedded itself in the rock wall. We could hear the Craggaron's laborious steps toward us.
"You make sure the Doctor is all right," Herod whispered. "I will keep the creature out of your way."
"Are you sure, Herod?" I asked. I didn't want to be the one that thing was chasing, but he probably didn't, either. Plus, I signed up for this; Herod was just dragged into it.
He nodded. "I will manage," he said. "Wait until the room is clear." He raised himself into a crouch. "If you find a way to vanquish the Craggaron, do it. Do not fear for my safety." For a moment, Herod looked determined, as if he had already considered the consequences for whatever actions the Doctor might take. But then that moment was gone and he stood up, pulled his scythe from the wall, and turned to face the Craggaron.
"You need my life force, loathsome creature?" Herod shouted, raising his scythe. "Come and get it!" He spun on his heel and bolted down the hall, luring the Craggaron away. I waited until the Craggaron had moved so far away that its footfalls ceased causing vibrations on the floor to leave my hiding spot and dash to the Doctor, groaning on the floor.
"Erica," he moaned as I broke into his line of sight.
"Did it do anything to you?" I asked, giving him a cursory exam.
"No, nothing serious," he replied. He reached out a hand and I pulled him to his feet. He rubbed his ribs and said, "It was about to sting me, but I'm fine. Come on, we have bigger problems."
We ran back to the controls, which I could barely see because of the height of the panel. "I can't get the ship operational," the Doctor explained. "There's no chance we can fly out of here."
"Can we blow the ship up?" I asked. "If we could, we could make it explode and take the Craggaron with it."
The look on the Doctor's face told me that he had considered that possibility, but he wished it couldn't come to that. "I can," the Doctor said. "It would only take a few minutes to reroute the remaining power in the ship to the engines and then—"
"But you can do it?"
"Yes."
"Do we have any other choice?"
The Doctor didn't answer. Instead, he began reluctantly flipping switches and pressing buttons, shifting the power throughout the ship. I watched both entrances anxiously, looking for some sign of Herod. I hoped he'd show up so we can all get out of here; but if he appears, then so does the Craggaron. I was stuck—what should I do?
"It's ready," the Doctor said somberly after a minute or two. He was staring at a lever topped with a red knob. "One more lever and the place goes boom."
"Will we get to the portal in time?" I asked. I felt heartless for doing so.
"Yes. You and I'll make it," the Doctor said.
"Pull it."
"Not until Herod comes back."
It was so frustrating in the most depressing way. What do I do? Urge the Doctor to pull the lever and sacrifice Herod's life for my own, or wait until Herod finds his way back to us (if he ever does) and possibly bring the Craggaron through to Athens, trapping it there? I wanted to wait for Herod, but I also wanted to make it out of this alive.
That's when it hit me.
Herod wants to die.
"What did you say?" the Doctor asked, in a low voice like a rumble of thunder. I stayed silent: I hadn't said anything! I'd only thought—oh, I must've spoken out loud.
It didn't make the truth less pleasant.
"Herod doesn't want to live through this, Doctor," I said. "Before he led the Craggaron away, he told me to do whatever we need to kill it; he told me to disregard his safety entirely." The realization dawned horribly on the Doctor. His face held a certain kind of pain that told me that while Herod believed life wasn't worth living, the Doctor believed so.
I remembered that look. When I was fourteen or so, I was going through a hard spell. I missed my mom and I was stressed from school; in a fit of dramatic despair, I accidentally let slip to my father that I wanted to die. My dad looked the exact same way the Doctor did. It made me wonder if the Doctor felt like this about anyone who wants to commit suicide or throw their life away. If he did, then does that make him a god, constantly worrying about his people?
"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked, dreading my answer. So did I.
"Yes," I whispered. I wish I hadn't been, but the look in Herod's eyes when I saw him last wasn't determined; it was accepting. Accepting his fate, and putting it in my hands.
The Doctor reached up, wrapped his hand around the lever's red knob, and closed his eyes, turning his face away. With one smooth motion, he yanked the lever down.
The room began shaking, and horrible sounds seemed to reverberate out of nowhere. The Doctor stood still, seemingly unaware of the spaceship's fate. I grabbed his hand and took off, dragging him behind me as I bolted for the portal. Alarms began to blare and the sound of rocks cracking echoed off the walls, but I tried to pay no attention as we ran wildly for the way out. I wasn't as scared as the last time I ran through these halls; a grim sort of anxiety had set in, and I just knew to keep running, keep running, keep running. I somehow remembered our route there—I honestly don't know how. I just had to keep running.
We turned a corner and found the portal at the end of the hall, just as a shrill beeping began: a countdown. The Doctor and I dashed down the corridor, with him stumbling behind me, and both of us hoping we'd make it in time—and hoping against hope that Herod would miraculously, too.
I jumped for the portal, pulling the Doctor through just as the alarm stopped.