Doctor Who: The Way Through the Woods (10 page)

Vicky looked decidedly un-reassured. ‘But which way will we go?’ she said. ‘I told you – I’ve tried all the paths. They all come back here.’

‘We’ll try again,’ said Amy, firmly. ‘There are three of us now – three sets of eyes, three sets of ears. We’re much more likely to spot something that will give us a clue as to how to get out of here.’

‘We could split up,’ Jess said. ‘You take one exit, and I take the next one along with Vicky?’

‘Splitting up,’ said Amy, ‘is always a terrible option. Don’t you watch TV?’

‘Fair point,’ said Jess. ‘OK, I guess it’s a kind of logic puzzle. If we’re going to solve it, we’re going to have to work out exactly what sort of puzzle it is, gather as much data as we can, and just do some serious thinking.’

‘Uh. I was going to toss a coin,’ said Amy.

Vicky was starting to doubt the suitability of her rescuers for the task. ‘Whatever we do,’ she said urgently, ‘I think we need to do it soon. Look, look at the trees. It’s starting again…’

She was right. In the short time that Amy had spent walking round, the trees had begun to bud. Even as she watched, new leaves began to emerge. Soon the whole glade was rustling with growth, and the damp, lonely smell of winter was chased away by something warmer and greener.

Jess stood up and looked around in delight. ‘It’s amazing! I should be afraid, I know, but it’s so wonderful!’ She gasped and pointed across the glade. ‘Oh, look! Look! Over there! A fox!’

There it sat, beneath one of the great arches of trees, its head cocked to one side, watching them.

‘It’s beautiful!’ Jess said, and Amy had to agree. A sudden plash of sunlight through the quickening leaves caught upon its red fur, lighting up the points like flames licking upwards. Its bib was white and its eyes orange. Even though Amy knew it was a mistake to project human emotion onto animals, she thought the eyes looked sad and aged. Perhaps it was the tilt of the creature’s head, and the greying flecks of fur above its eyes. Even without imagining things, this was certainly an old animal.

The fox rose slowly to its feet, still watching them. It lifted its front right paw, as if it was about to trot away. Then it stepped onto its hind legs and began to change shape.

‘OK,’ Amy said. ‘This is a new one…’

‘What?’ said Jess. ‘What, what,
what
?’

The transformation took about a minute, by which time the fox was the size and the shape of a human, perhaps somewhat slighter than the average man. The face remained distinctly vulpine – long-muzzled, black ears perched upright at the top of its head, the hair thicker than human hair, more pelt-like, and reddish. No, this was definitely not Rory – unless Rory had forgotten to mention something, and Rory wouldn’t dare.

‘You didn’t mention he was a fox,’ Jess remarked to Vicky.

‘That’s because this bit didn’t happen!’

As they watched, the fox-man turned away as if to go. He looked back over his shoulder, and then beckoned to them to follow him along the path.

‘Amy,’ Jess said, ‘not to put you on the spot, but I think you might have slightly more experience with this kind of thing than either me or Vicky. Ought we to go with it?’

‘No!’ said Vicky quickly.

‘Or should we keep well away?’

All the time the transformation had been happening, Amy had been thinking furiously. There was no way of knowing whether this was a good fox-guy or a bad fox-guy, or something in between. But here at least was a face to all the mystery surrounding Swallow Woods. Time pockets, spatial warps, swiftly changing seasons – there was nothing to latch onto there. But here, for the first time, was someone she could reason with.

Besides, perhaps it might be satisfied with one of them.

‘OK,’ Amy said. ‘First of all, I want you to not argue with me, and I want you to listen.’

‘You’re about to say something I won’t like, right?’ Jess said.

‘Yes, and you’re still not to argue. I want you to go, Jess, and I want you to take Vicky with you—I said don’t argue! I’m going to follow Fantastic Mr Fox, and I want you two to go in the opposite direction.’

‘Amy,’ Jess said quickly, ‘that’s a terrible idea! What if you’re lost for good? I don’t know enough about what’s going on to be able to help—’

‘Oh, who ever knows enough!’ cried Amy. A leaf above her turned yellow, crisped, and fell to the ground. The man-fox, whatever he called himself, began to back up the path. He was still beckoning to them, but soon he would be out of sight.

Amy rolled her triangulator around in her fingers. ‘Here’s what I’m thinking. If I don’t go now, we’ll only end up sitting around waiting here till summer comes again and this place reactivates. Who knows what will happen in the meantime?’

‘Amy, maybe it’s you going with this beastie that causes the whole thing—!’

‘That’s a chance we’re going to have to take.’ Amy lifted her hand to acknowledge the creature, and took a step towards it. ‘Jess, I’m going now. Take Vicky and leave here. If you get through – try to reach the Doctor. Tell him I’ve still got the triangulator—’

‘The
what
-you-later?’

‘Oh, just say the chocolate device! He’ll know what I mean!’

Autumn was coming fast. All around, the clearing was changing colour, the leaf-fall getting thicker. Amy broke into a run. At the entry to the arch, she paused, and pointed across the clearing. ‘Go now!’ she shouted to Jess and Vicky. ‘Go that way! It’s worth a try! Go on! And good luck!’

‘Wait!’ shouted Jess. ‘You said we shouldn’t split up!’

‘I was wrong! Who’d have guessed! Go
now
!’

Amy knew she couldn’t risk waiting any longer. She ducked beneath the archway of trees, and followed the fox – wherever he was leading her. Behind her, she could still hear Jess, calling to her forlornly.

‘Amy! Did you really say the
chocolate
device?’

Alive
. Now Emily had said it, Rory found it hard not to agree. The lights from the walls, shifting and shimmering, were like sunlight passing through leaves, as if the decorators had tried their best to emulate a forest. The effect was disorientating, like travelling on a train and watching the scenery so intently you started to think that you were motionless and the world was moving at high speed.

When, wondered the-man-who-was-calling-himself-Rory, had he travelled on a train? Where to? Where from? Would he start to remember? Or was the story of his life gone for good?

‘I think we’re arriving somewhere,’ Emily said, softly. She pointed up ahead, where the corridor ended in an archway. The metal panels on either side were etched with long lines, like the branches of a tree. Rory ran his fingertip along one of them, and a trail of light followed his touch.

‘I wonder why the design seems so familiar,’ he said.

‘Looks like the arches in the parish church,’ Emily said. ‘Not to mention the trees we came under before we turned up here. You don’t remember, do you?’

Rory shook his head. They walked through the doorway into the room beyond. The effect was like entering a woodland glade – only one made from metals and plastics. The walls loomed around, like heavy old grey trees, and in the centre of the room was a large flat circular console, its surface dark and empty like a pool in winter. Steps led down to it from where they stood, and a second set of steps led up to another doorway opposite.

‘Where do you think we are?’ Emily said.

Rory shrugged. ‘Control room of some sort?’

‘I wish I knew how you were so sure of these things!’

‘Me too… But it seems obvious.’

‘Anyone would think you’d been on a – what did you call it?’

‘Spaceship.’

‘One of them. Anyone would think you’d been on one before.’

Perhaps he had. Before or after he’d been on a train. Rory walked slowly down the steps and stood in front of the console. ‘Hello!’ he said, and then: ‘Computer!’

Nothing happened. Emily, standing next to him, waved her hand at the surface of the console. It sprang to life: writing and images started scrolling past at a great rate, like ripples on water, and a control panel of virtual buttons appeared, following Emily’s hand around as she moved it.

‘How did you know to do that?’ said Rory.

‘Well, if they’re alien, they might not know English. Waving seemed friendly. Here, what do you think all this is saying?’

‘Greek to me…’

‘What,
actual
Greek?’

‘Well, the alien equivalent of Greek. If aliens have an equivalent of Greek—’

‘You do go on, you know. What do you think would happen if I press this red button here?’

Rory grabbed her hand. ‘Emily! You never, ever press red buttons!’

‘All right.’ She snaked her other hand past him and thumped her thumb against the screen. ‘I’ll try the green one instead.’

Rory threw his arms over his head and dived to the ground.

Emily chuckled. ‘You’re such an easy target! Come and have a look, this is interesting.’

Gathering up what was left of his dignity, Rory stood up. On the screen, the images and the weird text were rushing past. With some experimentation, Emily found she could slow the pace down; some further tests let them stop and start the flow, but they could not make any sense of the actual words. The pictures, they both noticed, were all of humans.

‘Maybe they were the crew,’ said Rory.

‘But you said this was an alien spaceship?’

‘Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps it’s human after all, but from the future.’

‘Still full of surprises, aren’t you? Look, though, look at the clothes. That dress looks like something my old granny would have worn. And those are Roman!’

Rory, looking at the image, felt himself blush hotly, although he couldn’t for the life of him say why.

‘They look to me like pictures from the past, not the future,’ Emily said. ‘Like a history book—Here, I know that one! Go back, go back!’

Rory skimmed back until she told him to stop again.

‘That’s it!’ she said. ‘I know him! That’s Harry, Harry Thompson! Oh, you won’t remember, will you? He’s the lad that went missing six weeks ago. We thought he’d run off rather than get called up. And these little pictures – that’s his mam and dad, and his three sisters. Their farm backs onto our bottom field. I know them like I know my own family. What are all their pictures doing here, I wonder?’

Rory started scrolling through again, more and more quickly. Was his picture here too? If it was, perhaps they could work out what the text said, work out who he was and where he had come from…

‘Slow down, Mr Williams, we might miss something!’

‘Emily, I’m trying to see if I’m here—’

‘I know that, love, but you’re going much too quick.’ She rested her hand gently on his, moving it away and stopping the images flooding past. ‘Now slow down and let’s take a proper look through.’

Slowly, they pored through the pictures. Rory lost count somewhere in the hundred-and-thirties, and he had not even been counting the smaller pictures. There was no sign of a picture of him.

‘Less like a history book and more like a catalogue,’ he muttered, swiping his hand across the screen so that yet another picture came past. This one looked like a mediaeval peasant. ‘Alien abduction… But why on earth would I think that? What is wrong with my
head
? Why won’t it sort itself
out
?’ Frustrated, he banged the flat of his hand against the console. It made a
thumping
noise. The mottled light from the walls dimmed. Rory looked round anxiously. ‘Did I do that?’

‘How on earth would I know?’ Emily hit the side of the console too, and the light came slowly back to the same level as before. ‘Looks like it!’

They both laughed nervously, guiltily, like children who were getting away with some mischief. They stopped laughing when they heard footsteps, coming slowly and heavily along the corridor towards them.

‘Oh, Mr Williams,’ Emily whispered, her eyes bright with fear, ‘what are we going to do?’

Rory didn’t stop to think. Summoning up some knowledge from deep, deep within his mind, he grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her towards the doorway opposite. ‘What else? Run!’

Tripping over roots, pushing away branches, Amy followed the were-fox through a dark tunnel of trees. He trotted along at a quick pace, every so often turning to check that she was still there, and waving his hand to hurry her. Sometimes he smiled – at least, Amy thought it was a smile. His lips parted to show small, sharp, white teeth. She wasn’t sure whether to be alarmed or encouraged.

The path rose again, and the fox-man dipped out of view.

‘Oh no, you don’t…’ Amy ran the last few metres to catch up. The trees were thinning around her, and at last came to an end. With relief, she stepped out into sunshine.

Amy gasped. Ahead of her lay a fantastic landscape. She was standing looking down into a lush green valley set amongst rolling hills, with a swift silver river running through its heart. In the middle distance stood a tall dark turreted building, which looked exactly how a castle would look if built by alien foxes. Amy felt as if she had walked into
Beauty and the Beast
, or a child’s picture book of fairy tales in which all the buildings and people were in silhouette.

The fox-man was standing a few yards ahead of her, on the path leading down to the valley. He gave her another sharp white smile.

‘OK,’ Amy said. ‘I’m impressed. Even knowing there are all kinds of spatial wotsits going on around here, I’m still impressed. I’m also tired, so if that’s where we’re going, I’ll need a sit down first.’

The man-fox laughed: a sound somewhere between a rasp and a cough. Not an encouraging noise at all.

‘Don’t do that again,’ said Amy. ‘Please. Unless this is the moment where you turn out to be on the dangerous side of scary. In which case – laugh’s perfect.’

‘Don’t be afraid,’ said the were-fox. After the laugh, his voice turned out to be surprisingly pleasant, deep and rich, charming, but rather frightening. ‘And don’t worry about walking, you won’t have to.’

Lifting his hand, he waved it in front of him, and the distance between them and the valley collapsed. Now they were standing outside the huge wooden gate of the castle.