Doctor Who_ Wooden Heart - Martin Day [71]
She also saw in their eyes a queried goodbye, an invitation to follow them both back to the village, or to drift away as she saw fit.
Martha grinned – if she knew the Doctor, it would be the latter.
She glanced back into the cave. The Doctor and the Dazai were on their own now, talking quietly by the stone pillar that was, once more, a plain and featureless outcrop of rock. To their side, the suspended creature pulsed gently, its own environment of straight lines and tubes fading in and out of sight.
Martha came over to stand at the Doctor’s side. ‘What will you do now?’ the Doctor was asking quietly.
‘The things I have seen…’ The Dazai’s voice was even more brittle than usual, as if the poor woman had been forced to run a marathon. ‘The emotions that are flowing through me…’ Martha noticed that the Dazai’s hands were claws, permanently tensed like sharpened bones covered with paper-thin flesh. ‘I think I can control them, make sense of it all… But I must leave the village. I must retreat into the forests and the mountains. There I can harm no one, influence no one – I can simply battle with my demons.’
‘You’re incredibly brave,’ said Martha suddenly.
The Dazai shrugged. ‘Perhaps I’m just doing what is expected of me. Legend has it that each Dazai must retreat from the village, and battle with their own monsters, before they can be considered truly worthy of the title.’
‘You’ll return,’ said the Doctor, though there was a trace of uncertainty in his voice. ‘Eventually.’
‘Perhaps,’ the Dazai responded. ‘Perhaps, one day, I will go back. But for the moment…’ And she looked out, not at the clustered buildings, but at the surrounding mountains and forests. The sun was just starting to rise, illuminating treetops and the flags and banners of the village.
‘Good luck,’ said the Doctor.
The Dazai twisted her face into a smile. ‘I don’t need luck,’ she said, a little of her old belligerence returning, and then she moved away.
Martha glanced at the creature, still suspended in it awful cocoon of technology, but seemingly quiet and content now. She hoped that, free of other people’s evil, it would find some sort of peace while watching over its created world.
When she looked back, the Dazai had gone, taking the last traces of the dark angel with her. The cave, with its view of the land bridge and the blue-green lake and its central pillar of rock, came into focus one last time – and then disappeared from view.
Martha and the Doctor were back with the extra-dimensional creature on the Castor, and the TARDIS could only be a few corridors away.
The Doctor walked over to the prisoner, the god of the unreal world, and patted its flank. ‘Thank you,’ he said simply. And then, after a pause, ‘You really are amazing!’
He turned to Martha.
‘You’re not so bad yourself, you know. If you hadn’t gone back and tried to rescue Saul…’
His eyes were distant, as if he – uniquely – could see through the walls of the Castor. Perhaps, just for a moment, he saw a dark forest and an island at the heart of a mysterious lake – and a village of flags and bridges, celebrating the return of its children.
‘How did you rescue Saul from the monster?’ he asked suddenly.
‘Ah,’ said Martha modestly. ‘I did have a little help.’
‘Well, you can tell me later,’ said the Doctor. ‘I love a good story – heroes and monsters, that sort of thing.’ He turned back to the creature. ‘Like I said – give me a minute and we’ll get you somewhere warm,’ he said. ‘And then you can drift again, far away from humans and all the evil things they do.’ He glanced at Martha. ‘Present company excepted, of course.’
‘Then back to the TARDIS?’ said Martha.
The Doctor nodded.