'Is that likely to happen?'

'I don't think so-'

'You don't think think so?' so?'

'That's the best I can manage until I find out something about the provenance of this beastie...

Oh, here we are!'

He had managed to loosen a section of the dragon; a piece of metal much larger than the single scale he had detached before. This was the size of a dinner plate, thinner and slightly curved.

The Doctor turned it over several times to study it and then he handed it over to Amy. 'As I said. Not likely to happen.'

60.When Amy examined it, she saw marks engraved on it. Letters, presumably. 'Doctor, not all of us are fluent in techn.o.babble.'

'No? What do they teach you in those schools?' He took the panel back. 'Manufacturer's details. Like a hallmark. And what that tells me, Amy, is that our big old friendly worm here was made a very long time ago, by a civilisation that was out travelling between the stars before life even put in an appearance on this world.' He stared intently down at the metal, as if he might somehow catch sight of that distant, ancient species and learn something about them. 'Think about it. This was an empty world back then. No people. Leaving the dragon here was like burying your treasure under a tree in the corner of a quiet field. But that was aeons ago. I doubt its owners will be back for it. In the meantime, it's not doing anybody here any good. We need to get rid of it.'

He put the panel back into place and used the sonic screwdriver to reattach it. Amy walked slowly round the dragon, admiring the curves of its wings, the long sweep of its tail. Knowing that it was so old, so alien, made it even more fascinating. 'I wonder what made them leave it here. Why would you do that? It's so...'

'Go on,' said the Doctor. 'It's so...?'

'So beautiful,' Amy said honestly. 'I think it's 61 61 the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.'

'It isn't, though. It's only making you think that it is.' He pulled a face. 'Although, having seen Leadworth, this could well be the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. But mostly what you're feeling is the effect of Enamour. When it wears off, this will be-'

'A completely ordinary big gold dragon of uncertain alien provenance.'

The Doctor grinned at her. 'Precisely that.'

'So why abandon it? If it's so special to them?

Why give it up?'

'Why does anyone bury their treasure? Perhaps they were in trouble and they couldn't carry it with them. Trying to escape trouble. Big universe, plenty of trouble.'

'A war? An invasion?'

'That's the kind of thing. Or maybe they stole it and hid it so that they weren't caught with it when the bill turned up.'

Amy began to laugh. 'A heist gone wrong!'

'Maybe! Why not? Jewel theft, Amy,' he said grandly, 'is a universal constant. But chances are we'll never find out the full story.' He leaned his elbow on the beast casually, almost too casually.

Amy gave him a questioning frown. He raised an eyebrow and jerked his head slightly, gesturing behind him. Someone there, Amy guessed, 62 62 listening to them talk. How much had they heard?

'But there are a few things we could learn,' the Doctor went on. 'Very easily.'

'Oh yes?' Amy kept her tone light.

'Yes.' He draped one arm proprietarily over the dragon. 'Such as - where did Beol and the Teller find the dragon? Who were they before they turned up here in Geath? How did they find out how to make it work for them? And are they anything more than a couple of conmen?' Without turning his head, the Doctor called back over his shoulder. 'So why don't you stop lurking in the shadows like a bad stage villain, come out here, and start telling the truth rather than spinning a pack of lies?'

63.

Chapter 4.

'A chord,' Rory said with confidence, as he walked along the empty criss-cross streets of Geath, 'is the line between two points on a curve.' Truly, as the Doctor had promised, the universe was full of marvels. Here, on an alien world in a strange city under the spell of a mysterious substance not entirely within his comprehension, Rory had finally found a use for GCSE maths. Without it (and Hilthe's map, to be fair) he would be literally walking round in circles. with confidence, as he walked along the empty criss-cross streets of Geath, 'is the line between two points on a curve.' Truly, as the Doctor had promised, the universe was full of marvels. Here, on an alien world in a strange city under the spell of a mysterious substance not entirely within his comprehension, Rory had finally found a use for GCSE maths. Without it (and Hilthe's map, to be fair) he would be literally walking round in circles.

'You'll find a use for it one day, Williams,' Rory muttered, in a pa.s.sable imitation of Mr Swallow, Head of Maths, which would have made Amy laugh, if Amy hadn't been half a mile away and 65 65 behaving weirdly. More weirdly. Even more weirdly than running away with a charismatically chaotic time traveller the night before her wedding.

Their wedding. That was already weird enough for Rory. And yet still he found himself picking his way round said strange city in the middle of the night in search of a little old lady. And why? wedding. That was already weird enough for Rory. And yet still he found himself picking his way round said strange city in the middle of the night in search of a little old lady. And why?

Because the Doctor had asked him to. Talk about Enamour. 'So if I go up these steps... and along this alley... then I should come out-'

Into another plaza, this one as deserted as the rest of the city, the tinkling water in its fountain the only sound to be heard. The buildings glistered eerily under the moon. 'Weird weird weird. weird. It is all too weird. I don't like it.' Rory examined the tile that Hilthe had given him and turned ninety degrees anticlockwise. He headed down a broad avenue lined with trees tottering under the weight of the decorations loaded onto them. It is all too weird. I don't like it.' Rory examined the tile that Hilthe had given him and turned ninety degrees anticlockwise. He headed down a broad avenue lined with trees tottering under the weight of the decorations loaded onto them.

Hilthe's house, when he found it, stood out a mile - it was the only one not slathered in Enamour.

Rory ran up the steps and pulled on the bell. As he waited, he studied the stained gla.s.s on the nearest window. Even in the dim light, its vibrant colours and intricate design gave a clue to how Geath must have looked before the metal had oozed out of the council chamber and coated everything, turning the city uniform.

66.A servant answered the door. Rory showed him the tile and was led into a sitting room that was warm, comfortable, and conspicuously gold-free. As he waited, Rory looked at some of the pictures: paintings and sketches of Geath throughout its long history.

On the shelves and in the cabinets were other treasures: badges of office, old books and doc.u.ments, portraits of the long-dead great and good. So many people, so many of the symbols and artefacts that must have meant so much to them over the years. Hilthe, Rory understood properly now, was an important part of that history, and this room was a shrine to it. What had the Doctor said? Twelve and a half thousand years.

What would it be like, to have that much weight of the past behind you? How would it feel, knowing that you had failed to persuade your fellow citizens that all those years of tradition were worth keeping? That the long chain of history was ending with you?

Hilthe arrived, wearing a crimson quilted dressing gown and showing no outward sign of minding that she had been woken up in the middle of the night by a near stranger. The famous Geathian hospitality at last. She sat them down by the hearth, and her servant poured gla.s.ses of a hot, sweet tea, while Rory explained in the simplest terms possible what it was that they had discovered so far.

67.'The friend I'm travelling with, the Doctor - he's taken a closer look at the metal that the dragon's made from, and it's worried him.' He took a sip.

'Anyway, the Doctor thinks it might be having some sort of effect effect on the people of the city.' He sipped again, marshalling his thoughts. 'And that might be why the Teller and Beol have been able to control them. The metal kind of makes people believe what the Teller says.' on the people of the city.' He sipped again, marshalling his thoughts. 'And that might be why the Teller and Beol have been able to control them. The metal kind of makes people believe what the Teller says.'

'A metal that can change minds?' Hilthe frowned. 'That doesn't sound very likely.'

'I know it sounds... well, weird, but it's the truth.

I've seen it happen. We only arrived in the city this evening, and Amy's already been affected.'

'Amy?'

'My other friend. My girlfriend. We heard noises in the council complex and went to investigate. Awful noises - screeching, shrieking. Amy ran off ahead, but when we caught up with her, she hardly seemed to know what we were talking about. I think the metal - Enamour, it's called - makes people forget things, or suppress them, or keep them secret.'

Hilthe sat back in her chair. She studied Rory carefully. 'Strange metals, strange noises - all told, this is a very strange tale.'

'But true. Honestly. If you come and meet the Doctor, he'll explain, better than I can. He's good 68 68 at making the outright bizarre sound completely reasonable.'

'Not necessarily a quality. But can he help? Can he help Geath?'

'Help is what the Doctor does. Help is what the Doctor is.' is.'

Hilthe sat in silent contemplation for a while, studying the different treasures that lined the walls of her home. Then, apropos of nothing, she said, 'When do you and Amy marry?'

'In the morning... How did you know we were getting married?'

Hilthe nodded at his hands. 'When you started talking about her, you began playing with that wedding band.'

'What?' Rory looked down. Sure enough, he was fiddling with a gold ring. Where had that come from? He didn't remember picking it up. It sat in the centre of his palm. 'Hilthe, this isn't mine.' As he spoke, the ring suddenly twisted round of its own accord. He tried to drop it, but it seemed to him that it writhed in his hand, refusing to be let go. 'I can't stop it!'

Hilthe got out of her seat and leaned over to still his hands. Gently but firmly, she took the ring from him. She held it up in front of her to examine it more closely, and Rory caught a glimpse of her sharp, clever eye through it. Then Hilthe blinked.

69.She shuddered and doubled over, giving a small cry of pain.

Rory jumped out of his seat and ran to help her but, before he could get close enough, he bounced back. He stretched out his hands. They came up against something solid. Rory pushed hard against it, desperate to get to the old woman, who was now shaking violently.

'Hilthe!' he cried, thumping against the barrier between them.

But there was no way through, no matter how hard he hit or pushed. Rory pressed his hands against the invisible barrier and watched helplessly as pulsing golden light began to emanate from the ring. Small circles at first, expanding rapidly until Hilthe was entirely enveloped by the light.

Her skin became translucent, as if she was made of clear crystal that was lit from within. The ring, cupped in her hands, began to glow. Her head was bowed and Rory could not see her face.

'Hilthe,' Rory whispered in awe. 'Are you still in there? Can you speak to me?'

Hilthe raised her head and opened her eyes.

White fire. She looked like an angel... Rory dismissed the idea at once as ridiculous. No such thing. Aliens, however...

'Who are you? What do you want?'

The voice that answered was like Hilthe's, but 70 70 richer and sweetened with a hundred thousand harmonies. Rory was reminded of the Teller earlier - but his voice sounded shrill and harsh in comparison.

'I am the Herald. I speak for my masters, the Bright n.o.bles of the Feond. I have come to claim what is rightfully theirs.' Her glance darted to and fro, searching, or hunting. She repeated her greeting. 'I am the Herald. I speak for my masters, the Bright n.o.bles of the Feond. I have come to claim what is rightfully theirs.' Her eyes caught him. 'We can reward you well.'

It wasn't exactly hard to guess what she was talking about. Rory knew that the Doctor thought Geath should be rid of it, that Hilthe wanted Geath to be rid of it... and yet, and yet the city was so beautiful now... Without the gold, it would look so bare, so dull, hardly anything at all...

'There's nothing here,' Rory said. 'Look around you. Sorry. Try the next planet along.'

The Herald took in her surroundings - and saw only Hilthe's ungilded sitting room. Then she sighed, a full chord that resonated with grief and loss. A wave of guilt washed over Rory, but the truth stuck to his tongue. The light went out. Hilthe staggered backwards. Rory grabbed her arm to stop her falling and guided her back to her chair.

71.She sat for a few moments with her head bowed.

'How strange. How strange.' Then she sat up, as if she had come to a decision. 'I want to meet your Doctor friend.' She paused. 'I'm not sure why you just lied. No, don't deny it. But he will certainly need to know what you've seen in my house. My view of it was... difficult to describe, so you're going to have to tell the Doctor everything. If he's going to help me.' She gave Rory a very sharp look.

'And I mean everything.'

The Teller emerged from the shadow of the arcade.

Two knights followed close behind him, their hands resting lightly on the hilts of their sheathed short swords. 'Well,' said the Teller affably, 'here is a curious thing. The last I saw of our guests from Dant, they were being shown to their very fine quarters.

And yet barely a bell has rung and here they are in the council chamber. Whatever could have brought them here?'

'We're not from Dant,' the Doctor said. 'But you know that already.'

The Teller walked over to the dragon, placing one hand upon its head and the other upon the highest point of one folded wing. It was about as deliberate a display of possession as it was possible to make.

The Doctor ran one finger along the dragon's 72 72 tail. 'Go on,' he said. 'Tell me where you found it. I bet it makes a brilliant story.'

The Teller lifted a hand - one only. 'But my friend! You have already heard a great story this evening!'

'Not a true one, though.'

'Does a story have to be true to be great?' 'It helps.'

'But what more does my tale require?' The Teller stroked the dragon's head. Beneath his touch, the metal began to glisten.

And then, Amy would swear, it began to sing. A low sweet sound just on the edge of her hearing that picked up and harmonised with the Teller's voice.

She shivered. Where had she heard that before?

The Teller talked on. 'My tale has excitement and adventure and - most of all - it has an enemy. enemy.

That was what the people of Geath wanted to hear. This city!' He sneered. 'Year upon year of comfortable talk, always the same, always too safe - in their hearts they longed longed for something new. for something new.

Something dangerous. So that is what I give them.

And when they become too afraid, I can remind them that even if there are powers in this world that threaten them, Beol is here. Beol will protect them.' He gave a crooked smile. 'And that is no more than the truth. Beol is a good king.'

73.'There shouldn't be a king. Not here.'

The Teller's smile turned radiant. 'But now there is. And how they love him!'

'Were you a storyteller before?' The Doctor's voice, which until now had sounded faint in comparison, became steadily more authoritative, more natural - more real. real. 'Were they good stories?' 'Were they good stories?'

He walked slowly around the dragon. The Teller didn't budge an inch, but monitored his adversary's progress closely. 'Did they tell people how to live their lives just that bit better? Did they inspire them? Inform them? Entertain them? Or were they rubbish? Were they hack work? Was there always a good guy and a bad guy and a tidy resolution at the end? Have you simply found a way to amplify your voice so that people can't help listening?'

The Teller's. .h.i.therto genial air was gone. He gripped the dragon's head. Beneath his hands, the golden hide began to ripple.

'Doctor,' Amy murmured. 'I think you're making him angry.' She glanced uneasily at the shifting metal. 'I think you're making it angry'

'You have no right to be here,' the Teller said harshly. 'I should have you put in the stocks.

You're a fool!'

'And you're a liar. Can't bear to hear the truth?