~ The Rescue Part II ~

Before finding John:

The Doctor and Sherlock strode through the crowded market place, following the map towards the Silver Castle.

"So you say you know who lives there?" Sherlock inquired, skirting around a pair of giggling, neon bright Avalonian girls.

"Well, I knew the King. Avalon has been a monarchy for ages, with a sort of council to keep an eye on the royals. Some say this is where the myth of King Arthur and his knights comes from."

"Except Avalon was on a different planet and the King was actually an alien." Sherlock mused.

"Details, details. Anyways, I came here about fifty years ago, and Arthur was fine, really, nothing wrong. Except for his daughter. He said she'd been born… different, or possibly it was an effect of seeing her mother die at a young age. He was afraid that she'd try and take over the throne to pass her radical ideas and such. Arthur asked me to check in on her when she grew a little older, since the council didn't see Opal as a threat at the moment. I never heard from him again. I thought everything had been taken care of. Ah, here we are!"

For a castle named The Silver Castle, it wasn't very silver. The turrets and walls were made of smooth gray stone, with what looked like jade bordering the iron windows, making for a green and grey pattern. There was nothing impressive about the structure, but, then again, there was nothing very impressive with the rest of Avalon. A large wrought iron fence surrounded the castle, where a guard was making his rounds. He was watching the pair of them suspiciously.

The Doctor took something out of his pocket. It was a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Sherlock who flipped it open. "There's nothing inside." He whispered.

"I know," the Doctor murmured back, "just go up to that guard and show it to him."

Sherlock reluctantly went up to the guard. There was a bit of talking, and then Sherlock came back, eyes lit up in a sort of excitement. "He's letting us in."

"Oh, wonderful."

As they walked up towards the castle, the Doctor kept whispering about the King's daughter, Opal.

"She'll have John, of course, probably questioning him about me. She might not look it, but she's incredibly smart and conniving. She'll most definitely have a trap ready. Mmm, yes, now that I think of it; that little Dalek." Sherlock restrained himself from asking what a Dalek was as they approached the entrance and the guard fumbled around his pockets for his keys. They stepped a little ways away so he wouldn't hear them talking.

"If there is a trap ready, wouldn't her father stop her from doing anything of the sort? You said it yourself; he wasn't the type to kidnap people for a profit."

The Doctor sighed heavily and his eyes turned sad for a moment. "I fear that Opal has already finished off her father. Can't you feel it?"

And indeed, Sherlock could sense some foreboding and sadness in the bitter air. Something was not quite right…