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'But that's impossible!'

The Doctor sighed, revising his opinion. Despite empirical evidence, the human could not accept something beyond his experience. He pushed Stuart aside and knelt at the end of the table so that he could look up at the severed neck.

'Wouldn't you also say that it's impossible for a creature of such mass to fly on wings like this one had, and that it's at least moderately unlikely that it would breathe fire?'

'I suppose so,' Stuart admitted.

'What are you doing, Doctor?' Bathsheba asked. He had eased his hand into the tight confines of the vertebral canal and was feeling around for something.

'Just trying to work something loose.' He struggled momentarily and then brought his hand out clutching a small metallic ball from which dangled a tube of fibrous tissue.

'The dragon's brain?' asked Stuart.

'Yes.'

'But that means that it's just a machine.'

'The human brain is just a complex machine, Stuart. This is a bio-mechanoid. Living tissue welded on to a metallic framework and controlled by a positronic brain.' He pushed the brain back inside the head.

'Still, it's not much use to anyone now.' He stood up to his full height. 'Time to leave.'

They gathered up some of their possessions and went to Stuart's car. For protection, it had been covered with some of the material that the Firbolg used for their tents. They pulled away the covering to reveal the large, blocky car underneath. Bathsheba marvelled at it but couldn't understand how it could possibly be any use.

‘Get inside and I'll show you,' Stuart smiled.

‘Get inside?' she asked.

The Doctor pulled open the door for her with a flourish. 'Don't worry, Bats, in you get.' He pushed the door shut behind her and saw a slight panicked look appear on her face. He quickly slipped into the passenger seat and Stuart settled down in the driver's position.

Stuart had to turn the engine over several times before it would start, but it did eventually and he manoeuvred the car out the camp. Once clear of the obstructions he picked up speed and called back to Bathsheba, 'There! Not so bad is it?'

There was no reply.

The Doctor turned to look at her. 'She's fainted, poor thing.’

'Better open the window,' Stuart suggested, 'she probably feels confused by the lack of movement sensations. Takes dogs a while to get used to car travel as well.'

'Caused by discrepancy between sensory informational inputs.'

'That's right. Also known as car sickness.' He glanced into his rear-view mirror. 'Ah, I see she's returning to us.'

‘Bathsheba, are you all right?'

'Yes, I... no, I don't feel too well.'

‘You'll get used to it,' Stuart reassured her.

‘I’m not sure I want to get used to it.'

'Doctor, what you said back there ... ?'

'Yes?'

‘You seemed to imply that you'd travelled to other planets?’

‘That’s right, I'm a Gallifreyan, a Time Lord to be precise.’

‘A Time Lord?' Stuart said sceptically.

'Yes. I have a craft which can transcend the boundaries of space and time - or at least it used to be able to. I'm afraid it’s on its last legs at the moment. We've had rather a rough time of late. All part of the process of life.'

'Ah, time travel!' Stuart raised an eyebrow. 'But there was a time when I didn't believe in centaurs and trolls.'

‘Trolls?' Realization dawned on the Doctor. 'Ah, you mean the Fomoir? I never thought of them like that.'

‘It was the first thing that came into my mind when the Tuatha told me about them.' The car suddenly lurched to one side as it hit a lump in the ground. 'Whoops, better concentrate on where I'm going.'

‘If anything's going to stop us getting to Goibhnie then we can at least hope that it won't be a car crash.'

And it wasn't a car crash that stopped them getting there, but a natural obstacle. At first it was just a glow in the distance, but as they drew closer they saw the sea spreading out across the horizon, letting off a dim phosphorescence. Goibhnie’s island was visible, but the strip of water separating it from the