Doctor Who: The Legends of Ashildr
Page 14
The alarm was becoming louder and more insistent. The voice that came from everywhere and nowhere had started counting, but counting backwards. ‘Twenty, nineteen…’
Finally, I saw the door where I entered this bizarre castle. But would it open? If it did not, there was nothing I could do about it.
‘Fifteen,’ the voice intoned. I had no idea what would happen when it ran out of numbers, but I was sure it wasn’t good.
The voice reached ten as I approached the door. For an awful moment I thought it would stay closed, trapping me inside what would become my metal tomb. But then it slid open, and I sprinted out of the castle and towards the trees. Only when I heard a roar louder than any thunder did I turn and look back.
The castle, or ship, or whatever it was, burned. Fire erupted from beneath it and the whole immense structure seemed to lift slowly off the ground. But at once, it tilted to its side. The trees and vegetation growing through it held it back even as it struggled to rise into the sky. The fire beneath it burned brighter as the castle tilted still further. Then the whole structure was torn apart in a sudden brilliant ball of flame.
I hurled myself to the ground and covered my head. The heat washed over me, incredible and almost physical in its intensity as if I had been hit by a carriage. Then, it faded. When I dared to look, the castle was gone. Its remains burned brightly, a single oak tree standing defiantly in the midst of the inferno – the same tree as had been growing up and through the castle. Then its branches caught fire, and it too was engulfed in orange, yellow and red.
I walked slowly back to the village. Somehow I knew that, with the castle gone, there would be no more ghosts. The evening was setting in and dusk was falling by the time I made my way down into the valley.
Before I was halfway there, Edward and Maria and several others ran out to meet me. They demanded to know what had happened. Was I all right? Had I seen the fireball? They assumed it was a lightning strike that had caught one of the trees – but so big and fierce…
I told them little of what had happened. Only that they would have no more trouble with the ghosts of Branscombe Wood. Exhausted, I happily accepted Maria’s soup and bread.
‘You must stay with us,’ Edward said. ‘We owe you so much, the least we can do is accept you into our community. And,’ he reminded me, ‘you told us you have nowhere else to go.’
Had I told them that? It was true, and I was flattered by the offer. I told them I would sleep on it and let them know my answer in the morning.
But I knew it already. No matter how friendly and welcoming the villagers were, this was not the place I was looking for. I slept for several hours. Then, when the house was quiet and still, I crept downstairs and let myself out. I found my horse, grazing in a paddock behind the blacksmith’s, and together we set off out of the village.
Not back towards the woods and the orange glow that lingered in the sky above them. But onwards in search of I knew not what. Just myself and my horse.
I patted him on the side of the neck as he carried me towards whatever awaited us. Perhaps, I thought, despite everything, I shall give him a name.
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BBC Books, an imprint of Ebury Publishing,
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BBC Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com
The Arabian Knightmare © James Goss 2015
The Fortunate Isles © David Llewellyn 2015
The Triple Knife © Jenny T. Colgan 2015
The Ghosts of Branscombe Wood © Justin Richards 2015
James Goss, David Llewellyn, Jenny T. Colgan and Justin Richards have asserted their right to be identified as the authors of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
Doctor Who is a BBC Wales production
Executive producers: Steven Moffat and Brian Minchin
BBC, DOCTOR WHO and TARDIS (word marks, logos and devices) are trademarks of the British Broadcasting Corporation and are used under licence.
First published by BBC Books in 2015
www.eburypublishing.co.uk
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9781785940576