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Hex pressed his hands against the wall. The door was gone.
- Damn it, - he hissed under his breath. - They can’t do this. This is not fair!
He slammed a fist on the blue wood. He was so furious that he barely felt the pain.
- The Doctor has no right to decide about this! - he yelled. - You know that, don’t you?
A low creak went through the TARDIS.
- Ha. Thanks for the sympathy.
Hex paced around the room, tormenting the handle of his bag. He needed to get out of his quarters, somehow. But what could he do against the Doctor and a sentient ship? He was only a human being, he didn’t have any claws. like Ace used to, and he couldn’t saw his way out of his room with his medical tools. Not that he would ever have done that to the TARDIS, but he was at his wit’s end.
Hex leaned against the wall and let himself slide to the ground. He hid his head between his arms, and a sob went through him, coming from somewhere deep in his chest. He couldn’t do anything locked up there. His mother was going to think that he had abandoned her.
The thought had barely formed in his head, that there was a clicking noise and a warm gust of wind brushed against his face, ruffling his hair.
Hex lifted his blurry gaze, and he stared at the door for a couple of seconds, before understanding.
He let out an incredulous noise, and he brushed his tears away.
He ran for the door and, before going outside, he caressed the wall in an apologetic manner.
- I… thanks, mate, - he said, with a smile. - I owe you one.
A series of worried creaking sounds echoed through the TARDIS’ corridors as Hex ran through them, looking for the way to the deck.
Nimrod’s ship was just as huge and damp as Hex remembered it. The air smelled of rust, as if blood had been spilled so many times on those floors that it wasn’t possible to get rid of it anymore. The wooden statues half-devoured by the walls, their agonizing expressions forever frozen in agony, still managed to send a shiver down Hex’s back.
His steps left wet puddles on the fancy, red carpets. He walked on the tip of his toes, peeking in every room. Most of them were empty. People were too busy trying not to let the ship sink to realize that someone else had sneaked on board.
Hex rubbed his soaked arms. He had swam to Nimrod’s ship in a surprisingly untroubled manner - the TARDIS’ doing -, but now he was freezing.
He remembered his mother’s room being somewhere close, but a part of him knew that he should have already found it.
A cold feeling settled in Hex’s bones, and it had nothing to do with swimming in the ocean in the middle of a sea storm.
Hex turned right, then left, then right again, until he reached the main hall. The smell of blood was even stronger there; the only light came from a pit full of coal and fire. The flames cast eerie shadows on the walls. An anvil and a hammer were resting on the edge of the pit. They looked old, used, but like they still were reliable instruments. Hex felt a strange sense of uneasiness while looking at them.
He shook his head and he got closer to the wall opposite to the door, squinting. The wooden walls were covered in sculptures, arms and legs twisting, becoming an unrecognizable tangle. There were just too many of them to be counted. Sometimes, among them, there was a face, just as contorted as the limbs. They were all the souls the Forge had eaten, taking everything from them, leaving nothing but husks - rebuilding itself again and again on their bones.
The more Hex looked, the more his fear increased, turning into anguish. He didn’t know what had led him to that room in particular, why a part of him had thought of it and had been so certain… maybe what Nimrod had said about vampires was true. Maybe his mother’s blood was calling his.
And then, Hex saw her, among the intertwined remains.
Her face was still visible, unlike many others. Arms had pulled in the lower part of her body, leaving only her torso. Her arms and hands were pushing the statues underneath her away, as if she were trying to climb out, and her teeth were bared in the effort. It looked like someone had shoved her in there, and she still looked— fresh.
Hex’s knees almost gave in. He felt faint, but he hang onto reality, and he touched the statue to prove to himself that it was real, that it wasn’t just a twisted dream.
- Mom? - Hex called, even though he knew she couldn’t answer.
She had been eaten by the ship.
He swallowed a hot lump in his throat, and he tried to think. There had to be something he could do.
A low sound, similar to the TARDIS’ hum - but not even remotely as friendly - irradiated through Hex’s arm. If he listened intently, he could almost hear a distant noise. Screaming?
Hex tore his hand away, his breath short and fast.
So, that was why the Doctor had prevented him from getting aboard Nimrod’s ship again. Because they knew. They knew Cassie - his mom - had been dead for a while now, and they hadn’t told him. Like they never told him anything.
Anger twisted in Hex’s stomach, and he felt the sudden urge to make the Doctor pay for all those lies, all those things they had decided he didn’t need to know, because they knew best - as if he were a child who couldn’t handle the truth.
And, to be completely honest, handling the truth was hard and it hurt like hell, but if only Hex had known… he could have gotten there sooner, saved her, taken her somewhere else. If he had known what was going to happen to her, he would have never even left the Forge.
He had abandoned her, just like the Doctor had in the past.
- Oh, god, mom… I’m so sorry, - Hex said, a sob stuck in his throat.
He swallowed, and he looked at the knife he hadn’t realized he was now holding. He turned it around between his fingers.
He wasn’t good at handling knives, not of this kind. He had accepted that weapon just because Ace had insisted he carry something to defend himself with. But, maybe, it could be useful for once.
Hex unsheathed the knife and looked at his mother’s remains, trying to understand were to hit. He felt like he was standing a couple of steps behind himself, watching everything unfold. He wasn’t going to leave his mom there on that ship, not even if he had to put down that wall all by himself.
He struck, and the knife cut through the fibers of the wood with surprising ease. Hex shrieked, when hot red droplets sprayed his face and clothes. The knife fell out of his hand and he stumbled backwards, horrified.
A trickle of blood was coming out of the cut in the wood, now slowly being reabsorbed.
What the hell even was that ship?
Hex looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood. Whose blood he didn’t even know. A droplet from every single person who had been eaten alive by the Forge.
In a single instant, he realized that that ship needed to burn and sink, and that not even a crumb of it had to survive.
- Stay were you are, if you— Hex?
Hex blinked. He knew that voice.
- What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the TARDIS, how did you even… Hex? Can you hear me?
There was a hand on his shoulder, and he was turned around. He didn’t oppose any resistance.
Ace’s eyes widened. - What happened to you? Are you hurt?
Since he was slow to respond, she checked him for wounds.
- Not my blood, - Hex whispered.
Ace lifted her gaze and put a hand on his cheek. His eyes met hers, and whatever control he still had over himself crumbled.
He hung onto her, unable to stop the sobs going through him. He had never cried like that. He couldn’t stop, even if the act of crying itself hurt as well.
- Hex? - Ace called. he returned his embrace, trying to soothe him.
Then, she saw the statue on the wall, and she recognized a face Hex had shown to her once, in the old photograph he kept in his locket.
- Oh, Hex, - she whispered. - I’m so sorry.
He held her tighter, and she took a deep sigh, closing her eyes. She stroked his back. There wasn’t much else she could do for him.
- We will make him pay, Hex, - Ace whispered in his ear, a dangerous edge in her voice. - Whoever did this to your mom, Nimrod, his sorry ass goons— we’re going to keelhaul them until there’s nothing left of them, okay?
Hex let her go. His expression was empty, his eyes red.
- Yeah, - he said. He was surprised that the prospect of violence or revenge didn’t seem to be of any comfort to him. - Let’s… let’s just go, now, - he added, in an absent tone. He had wanted to bring his mother with him, but, now, trying to free her remains from the ship seemed like an act of cruelty. If a small part of her still felt something, Hex didn’t want to torture her nor the other poor souls stuck in the Forge any further. They had suffered enough already.
Ace’s heart clenched. - Sure. Benny was looking for the Doctor’s… whatever, it’s not important, now. We split so that we could have more coverage, but she should be back soon.
Hex nodded. He gave one last look to his mother’s statue, and then he went after Ace, her hand firmly holding his. He had no idea where he was, or why it had been so important to get on that ship in the first place. Nothing made much sense anymore.
- This way, Hex, - Ace said, her tone softer.
He mindlessly followed her. He felt hollow, like someone had grabbed his heart and taken it out of his chest.
- Not so fast, - said a dull, flat voice from the corridor.
Sir William Abberton— Nimrod was standing at the entrance, a gun in his right hand. He looked just as ghoulish as the last time Hex had seen him: his skin was slimy and pale, his eyes sunken and lifeless.
Nimrod pointed the gun towards them. Ace slid in front of Hex to protect him, but he pushed her aside.
- You bastard, - Hex said, in a low voice, getting closer to him. - You killed her.
He ignored Ace’s hand, who tried to grip his arm to prevent him from going any further.
Nimrod seemed confused for a second, then he looked at the wall, and he pretended to suddenly remember what Hex was talking about.
- Ah, yes. Artemis. She was one of my finest seamen. How unfortunate that she had to go.
Hex felt anger like he had never felt before - bright and red, clawing its way through his chest.
- Now that she is dead, are you here to take her place? We have a vacant spot, and the Forge is always looking for new souls.
Before Nimrod could finish talking, Hex jumped him. He didn’t even care about the fact that Nimrod had a gun or that he was a vampire, all he wanted was to wipe that condescending smile off his face and make him feel even a fraction of the pain he was feeling.
Hex punched him. It was like hitting iron. He barely managed to make Nimrod falter. Hex’s hand was in a much worse condition for it due to his weak, human knuckles, but he didn’t care.
- You killed my mother! - he screamed, his voice hoarse. He would have liked to sound angry or scary, but it sounded more like a plea, more like he was asking ‘why’. Why did you kill her. She didn’t have to die. It’s so unfair, to have her die when he had found her again.
- That I did.
Hex tried to muster up the strength to hit him again, but, before he could even try, Nimrod grabbed his arm and twisted it.
There was a crunch, and pain exploded in his arm. Hex didn’t even have the time to scream, that Nimrod pushed him away with enough strength to make him hit the nearest wall.
Hex fell to the ground, shivering.
Someone yelled.
Hex’s vision was swimming. His arm hurt, pain crackled in his flesh like wild fire.
Everything went black for a moment, then, when Hex regained consciousness, he saw Nimrod’s blurry figure walking towards a heap of black clothes and colorful pins laying on the ground, close to the pit.
Ace, said an urgent voice in Hex’s head.
He tried to move, and he winced. His arm. Definitely broken. He wasn’t going to have a steady hand ever again. Not that he cared, at the moment. All he needed was a steady enough hand to prevent Nimrod from killing Ace.
No one else was going to die that day. He just couldn’t lose another person he loved.
- Leave her alone! - Hex screamed.
Nimrod turned around. He seemed amused by the situation.
- Not dead yet, Tommy? Come closer, and I’ll help you meet your mom again.
Hex didn’t imagine it could be possible to hate another human being with such intensity. Not that Nimrod was human. He was some twisted parody of a human being.
Nimrod cocked the gun, and he smiled to Hex. It was not a smile, but an unpleasant baring of teeth.
- I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Nimrod, - a voice said, threatening in spite of its cheerful tone.
Something resembling hope surged in Hex’s chest.
The Doctor.
They were standing next to the door, clad in white and gold, their hand resting on the question mark handle of their cane. Hex had been so angry with them before, and yet he had never been so relieved to see them.
- Ah, Doctor, - Nimrod said, pointing his gun towards them instead. With them in the room, Hex and Ace weren’t even remotely dangerous. Better to keep an eye on the true problem. - I was wondering when you’d show up. I preferred your last face, I must say.
- My hearts bleed, - the Doctor said, putting a hand on their chest.
Their gaze met Hex’s just for a brief moment, checking on his status. Then, their eyes quickly darted in Ace’s direction, to Cassie’s statue, and back to Hex. They were as unreadable as ever, but Hex felt a guilt that definitely wasn’t his own, when a voice echoed in his mind.
Take Ace and get out of here, it said. I will provide a distraction.
Hex blinked, wavering a little, but he nodded.
- So, Nimrod, - the Doctor said. - I think you should know that I got what I came here for. Nothing any longer forbids me from sinking your ship right this second, now that I have my blood back.
Nimrod chuckled. - Are you threatening me, Doctor?
- It’s good to see you’re not too daft to understand, Nimrod.
Hex slowly moved towards Ace, trying to make as little noise as possible. She had a dark red spot on her forehead, and blood trickling down the left side of her face. He really, really hoped she wasn’t too badly hurt. It was all his fault. She had only tried to help him.
Hex sucked in air through his teeth. His arm hurt so much it was difficult to focus on what he was doing. He moved it as little as possible.
Ace shuffled, emitting a faint groan, and Hex stopped, his eyes fixed on Nimrod’s back. It looked like he hadn’t noticed anything.
- You tried to destroy the Forge once, Doctor, - Nimrod said. - But we rose back from the ashes. I won’t allow you to do it again.
- Is that so? - the Doctor said. - It will surprise you how stubborn I can be, when I decide that it’s time to take an overambitious, cruel mortal down a peg or two. This time I’ll make sure you burn with the whole kit and caboodle.
They gave Hex a quick look, and he resumed his slow move towards Ace. She had woken up and she was looking around with a foggy expression, trying to understand what was going on. She brought a hand to her head and grimaced.
- Damn blood sucker, - she hissed under her breath.
- It’s very careless of you to make such audacious statements, when I’m here with those whom you call your friends, Doctor, - Nimrod said, in a colder and more sinister tone.
Hex gestured Ace to get closer to him, and he eyed the secondary exit of the hall, that lead somewhere deeper into the ship. It was close enough for them to get there without Nimrod noticing. Ace nodded.
A curtain of tense silence fell on the room. Something passed between Nimrod and the Doctor, and, when they spoke again, there was vulnerability in their voice - something the Doctor rarely showed, especially in front of their enemies.
- Nimrod… I’m warning you—
All of a sudden, Nimrod turned around. There was a loud bang, deafening in the closed space of the hall. Hex looked at Ace in the eye. She was horrified, her mouth hanging open.
He wondered what had happened. His ears were ringing. Time stretched around him. Then, he felt something hot sliding down his side and broken arm.
Oh.
His breath stuttered, and he fell to the ground.
- HEX!
Ace was about to run towards him, but Nimrod pointed his gun at her.
- Stay where you are, Miss McShane, - he said. - You don’t want to go down like Schofield, do you?
The Doctor gritted their teeth, their grip tightening on the question mark handle of their cane.
- Nimrod, - they hissed, their eyelids narrowing. - You animal. Don’t you dare—
- You’re in no position of threatening me, Doctor, - Nimrod mocked them. - You don’t have the guts to do what needs to be done either way.
- It’s because I’m trying to be kind. Yes, even to you. But you’re making it really hard right now. For your own good, I would advise you not to test me any further, - the Doctor said, their eyes as grey and sharp as a sea storm.
- Doctor… Hex! - Ace said, a note of panic in her voice.
The Doctor lowered their gaze on Hex for a moment, and there was a nervous twitch in their lip. They tried to move towards him.
- Ah ah ah, - Nimrod said, shaking his head. - Stay where you are.
- Let me go to him, - the Doctor said, in an imperious tone. - You’ve already done enough damage as it is. Don’t make your situation any worse. Did no one ever tell you that provoking a sea god isn’t a smart idea?
- I’m the one in charge. And you will do what I say, if you don’t want your other friend to die too.
For a moment, it looked like the Doctor were about to take out their sword and stab Nimrod themselves, but, at the last minute, something gave in behind their facade. They took a deep sigh.
- What do you want, Nimrod? Make it quick, - they added, looking at the dark spot widening on Hex’s shirt. The young man’s skin was as white as marble, and his chest was barely moving. - I don’t have time to chat with you, and I would rather free myself from your abominable presence as soon as possible.
Nimrod’s stance became more daring, as he, in that very moment, knew that he was the one with the power of life and death in that room.
- I want you and your underlings off of my ship, Doctor, and the promise you won’t try anything stupid, once you have your friends back. Oh, and I also want back that vial of blood you have taken away from me. As a warranty against any future retaliations on your part.
The Doctor’s expression hardened. - You’re asking a lot, Nimrod.
- It’s either that or your humans dying. You decide. It’s fine either way, by me. Seeing your face right now is already good enough of a reward.
The Doctor flinched, as if Nimrod had just poked them in the side with his sword.
They looked at Hex, laying on the ground, the life rapidly oozing out of him, and at Ace who was trying to stop the blood with her hands, hating to feel that powerless. Then, they nodded.
- Wonderful, - Nimrod said. - Now, where is that vial of yours?
The Doctor furrowed their eyebrows for a moment. - Well. I don’t have it on me, at the moment. As you said, my “underlings” have taken care of that. I don’t work alone. Unlike you, I have people watching my back.
Nimrod rolled his eyes. - Spare me the moral discourse, Doctor, and call that underling of yours to you, so that she can give me the—
In that moment, there was a loud, crunching noise, followed by another one, and another one, rapidly getting closer. The ship violently rocked.
Nimrod lost his footing, and the Doctor took advantage of that to knock the gun out of his hand with their cane. Nimrod growled and took out his sword, meeting the Doctor’s halfway.
As soon as Ace regained her equilibrium, she ran towards Hex.
He was laying on the opposite side of the fire pit, close to the anvil. She knelt by his side and gently patted him on the cheek, trying to revive him. A dark, red rose had bloomed on his chest, its center somewhere under his clavicle, dangerously close to the heart.
- Hex! - Ace exhaled. - Hex, please, wake up!
His eyelids fluttered, and he managed to open his eyes halfway. - Ace? - he called, his voice weak. His gaze was unfocused, but he was still there.
She barely contained the urge to hug him, as immense relief washed over her.
- Gordon Bennett! You’re alive! - she exclaimed, squeezing his good shoulder.
- What… what happened? - Hex mumbled. - Ah… my arm—
- That bastard shot you, - Ace whispered. - What do I have to do, Hex? How can I help?
He didn’t answer. He was drifting away.
- Hex! Tell me what to do, I’m not a medic!
- I… ah… - Hex swallowed, trying to hang on. - Yeah… gunshot wound… Apply pressure on the wounded area… - he said, as if reciting something he had read in a book.
Ace did as asked, and Hex let out a pained groan.
- I’m sorry! - she said. - I know your arm isn’t in great shape too, but the Doctor will fix that, alright? You just need to hold on for a little longer!
Hex barely nodded, his eyes closing against his will. He felt cold, but the heaviness creeping up on him and dragging him down wasn’t as unwelcoming as he had thought. His body hurt far too much. Resting would have been easier.
Somewhere close, someone screamed.
It was Nimrod. The Doctor’s sword had pierced his arm. Not enough to kill him, but enough to pin him to the wooden wall.
The Doctor looked at the red stain on their white cloak with an expression of disgust, as if it had been a residue of the lowest substance on the face of the earth.
- If you have even the remotest semblance of intelligence, Nimrod, you’ll stay there, - they hissed.
Then, they rushed towards Ace and Hex. They knelt at their side.
- How’s he? - they asked, placing a two fingers under Hex’s neck to feel his pulse. It was weak.
- He’s lost consciousness, - Ace said, desperate. - I don’t know what else to do. He told me to press here.
- You did good, - the Doctor reassured her. - Let me take a look at the wound real quick.
- But— he’ll lose more blood—
The Doctor looked at her for a moment, and they had their “I know what I’m doing” expression on, so Ace, after a moment of hesitation, obeyed.
The Doctor gently lifted Hex’s shirt, quickly examining the damage.
- What a mess this all is, - they whispered. They passed a hand on their face. - I should have told him.
- You can do something for him, right? - Ace begged. - Right, Doctor?
The Doctor sighed. - Ace… he’s… he’s too far gone.
- He’s still breathing! - she yelled, choking on her own words.
- Barely.
- You’re a bloody omnipotent sea god, and you say there’s nothing left to do?!
- I’m not omnipotent, - the Doctor said, and they sounded upset about that, as if it were a fatal flaw of theirs. - I could make a deal with him, but—
- Then do that!
The Doctor gave her a grave look. - His life force is very feeble. It would be like living a half life, and I’m not sure it would be worth it, for a human being. Not even I can revive the dead.
- We’ll think about that later. Just— do something! Put a patch on it. I don’t know, you’re the one who has the power, here! Just please… don’t let Hex die.
- Fine. I’ll… I’ll do something.
They gently cupped the back of Hex’s head and lifted it from the ground, so that they could look at him in the face.
- Hex? - they whispered. - Wake up.
Hex twitched ever so slightly.
- Thomas Hector Schofield, - the Doctor repeated, using his full name. - Wake up.
A shiver went down Ace’s spine, and Hex’s eyes were pried open by the Doctor’s compelling words.
- Listen to me very carefully, - the Doctor said. - I know you didn’t want to make a deal with me, but you’re dying. I can save your life for you, but… you need to give me your consent.
Hex took in their words.
- You need to say “I, Thomas Hector Schofield, want you, the Doctor, to save my life,”, or I won’t be able to do anything for you. At least say yes! Do you understand? - the Doctor’s grip on Hex’s shoulder tightened. - We have no time for a normal contract. You’ll have to trust me. I couldn’t save your mom, but please, let me save you, Hex!
Hex tried to speak, but his lips barely moved. Then, he nodded, and his eyes closed again.
- Good enough for me, - the Doctor said.
They took out the knife they kept up their sleeve, and Ace recognized it: it was the same they had used when she had made the deal with them.
- Don’t look, Ace, - they said. - This won’t be nice.
For once, Ace did as they told her. She saw the Doctor rise their knife over Hex’s chest, and she looked away… right on time to see that Nimrod had freed himself from the Doctor’s sword, and was now approaching them, holding the question mark-shaped handle.
- Doctor!
Ace took the knife she kept in her belt and shielded them, ready to strike back. Nimrod stopped to look at her, a smirk on his face. The Doctor’s sword glistened faintly in the darkness of the room. Ace really hoped Nimrod didn’t know how to use it properly.
He prepared to strike her, and Ace winced, closing her eyes for a moment, as the light coming from the sword grew brighter. Maybe he did know how to use it after all.
However, the pain she was expecting never arrived.
She dared to open her eyes, and she did so just in time to see Nimrod with a surprised expression on his face, looking down at his chest. The tip of a sword peeked from his ribs. He wavered, and a thin hand took the Doctor’s sword away from his fingers.
- Not nice to steal the Doctor’s personal effects, - Benny said. She put the sword’s handle on her arm, like the Doctor often did, and she took her own sword out of Nimrod’s chest. He coughed and, if looks could have killed, she would have dropped dead. - Oh, come on, don’t be like that! You’re a vampire, you’ll be fine.
- Benny! - Ace said, and she jumped towards her.
She squeezed her in a hug, and Benny stiffened for a moment, surprised by the rare show of affection. Usually Ace was much cuddlier with the Doctor than with her. She passed an arm around Ace’s shoulders and held her tightly.
- Ace? What happened? - she whispered, when she saw the Doctor leaning on someone.
She furrowed her eyebrows.
- Is that…? - She fell silent, as the Doctor put something shiny in their pocket.
They got up and stared at Hex’s body with a blank expression.
- What have you done to Hex? - Benny whispered.
- No time to explain, - the Doctor said. - We have to go, this ship is going down. Your explosives worked marvelously, Ace. Perfect timing.
Ace let Benny go, and made the mistake of looking at Hex. She froze, and the Doctor put themselves between her and the body, pushing her towards the door.
- I said go! - they ordered, squeezing her arm hard enough to hurt.
- But— we can’t leave him here! - she rebuked, wiggling in their hold. - We can’t—
- Yes, we can. And we will, - the Doctor hissed, pushing her towards the door. - I did all I could. Hex will be fine. He’s no longer there, that’s just a husk.
- What? - Ace looked at Hex’s body, her throat tight. Even if it was a husk, she didn’t want to leave it there with bloody Nimrod. And the Doctor was supposed to save Hex, not to kill him faster! - If you don’t want to bring him with us, I will!
She tried to overtake the Doctor, but their iron grip on her arm didn’t allow her to.
- Ace, no. I’m sorry, but it would be dead weight.
She tried to push them away.
- Ace, don’t—
- Let me go!
- Ace, the Doctor is right. We need to get away. The ship is taking water in, I saw it—
- I don’t care, - she rebuked.
She finally managed to free herself, but, before she could get to Hex’s body, a voice froze her in her steps.
- Ace McShane, go back to the ship, - the Doctor said, with that impossible to resist double tone. Something in her recoiled, tried to fight it off, but, even if they had used only half of her true name, she was still compelled to do as they told her.
Ace gave the Doctor a look of burning anger, when she passed by them, opening the road back to the TARDIS against her will. They had the decency to avoid her gaze. They were doing this for her own good, but Ace still thought it was awfully callous of them to leave Hex’s body there like that, no matter what they had done to it. She really hoped they were going to be faithful to their word, when they said Hex was going to be fine.
When they got to the deck of the ship, Nimrod’s crew was desperately trying to reach the safety boats. There weren’t enough of them - the Forge didn’t really care about saving its people.
The Doctor looked at the swirling waters, and they smiled slightly, not caring about the rain hitting their face. The TARDIS emerged from the mist and the droplets of seawater, sliding towards them. When it got close, the storm had gotten bad enough that it was hard to see. Ace was guided by the Doctor’s hand, and she held Benny’s in return, taking her with them.
As soon as they jumped aboard, the Doctor got to the helm, and piloted the ship out of there. The tempest made the TARDIS’ sails rock wildly, as if they could barely keep it together. As soon as they got in safety distance, the Doctor threw down the anchor and looked back at Nimrod’s ship with their spyglass.
They held out a hand, and Benny, answering to a silent request, gave them their sword.
- I’m not letting this happen again, - they whispered under their breath.
They pointed their sword to the sky. The blade started to emit a high-pitched sound, its light intensifying to the point that it was hard to look at it, and then, it sparked. Ace had to take her gaze away not to be blinded. Lightning bolts cracked the sky, and one- two hit Nimrod’s ship. Wood, brown and red, was blown in all directions, and the mast broke in half. The ship fell on one side and, soon after, all that was visible of it was its bow, as it was quickly swallowed by hungry waters.
The Doctor plunged their sword back in its leather sheathe.
- And with that, we’ve seen the last of Sir William Abberton.