Doctor Who_ Wooden Heart - Martin Day [58]
‘So,’ said Martha. ‘What’s on the island?’ She paused. ‘Anyone?’
Saul and Petr said nothing, toiling away with the long wooden oars.
Martha sighed – it would have been nice to know what to expect, but she supposed it was going to be more monsters and beasts to mark the edge of this world. Perhaps it was just as well not to know.
She glanced back. The village was entirely out of sight now, the constantly moving fog expanding as far as she could see in every direction. She was grateful for Saul and Petr’s competence – if it was down to her, they’d probably end up rowing around in circles.
This comforting thought faded from her mind the moment something hit the boat. It wasn’t turbulence in the water, or the effect of a sudden squall of wind – a pale shape was moving through the dark waters.
Her blood ran cold. She looked over at the brothers, who’d scarcely missed a beat. ‘What was that?’ she asked.
‘Just a friendly welcome,’ said Saul. ‘We’ll only be in trouble if they all come at once.’
Saul’s use of the plural bothered Martha almost as much as the idea of an attack on the boat. With great trepidation she peered over the side.
A handful of bullet-shaped creatures swam under the boat, their paths criss-crossing as they made powerful, darting surges forward. Martha thought at first that they were swelling and growing bigger. Then she realised that each one was rising up through the grey waters of the lake.
There was a sudden splintering sound only a few feet away from where Petr was patiently rowing. Through the shattered wood and turgid water Martha could see some sort of snout as a creature tried to widen the hole. It disappeared again and the boat began to fill with water.
There was another bump, then the entire craft started to shake wildly. Martha gripped the wooden rail that ran across the centre of the boat; it was like being thrown into a tumble dryer. The air was full of water as the boat flexed and twisted. Great waves threatened to flood it entirely.
Martha looked over the side again. More and more of the creatures were circling the boat, thrashing and writhing and clearly desperate to attack the vessel.
There was another sound of splintering wood. ‘Right,’ said Martha. ‘I think we can safely say we’re in trouble now.’
THIRTEEN
It was so dark on the Castor that the Doctor was using his wand – sonic screwdriver, he’d called it – to illuminate the corridors as they walked. They’d taken a circuitous route in an attempt to avoid the shadow creature, and the Doctor had filled in the silence by reminding Jude that the fate of her entire world might rest on how quickly they could find the heart of the ship.
Jude still wasn’t sure she understood what the Doctor had said, but the gathering shadows were eloquent enough. A darkness was flowing over everything that Jude knew and took for granted. If the Doctor didn’t succeed, Jude might never see the light again.
‘You’ve got to hand it to Martha,’ said the Doctor, seeming to move more slowly now for fear of stumbling over something in the dark. ‘Whatever it is she’s doing, it’s just enough…’
‘Just enough to what?’
‘To give whoever it is that’s sustaining your world something to think about. I’m sure your father’s helping, too,’ he added with a sympathetic smile.
‘And if they stopped?’
The Doctor paused, his face hidden by shadow. ‘Goodnight Vienna,’ he said quietly. He pointed at the ceiling, where a row of lights still glowed faintly. ‘Should be pitch black by now,’ said the Doctor. ‘By rights, your people should be asleep, and this place… This place should be as quiet as the grave.’
He paused, standing at another intersection, turning his head slowly as if listening for something.
‘Whereas,’ he said, excitement returning