Read Online Doctor Who: Timelash by Glen McCoy - Free Book Online

but then Herbert always took a great delight to make it that way before getting down to any serious writing - or fishing. It all rather depended on how the mood took him. Though not especially tall, he was a well-built young man in his early twenties. Always well-attired, he had an eye for the ladies, a trait he never concealed.
    Herbert entered the cabin after a morning’s fishing. He removed his wet wellington boots and padded in his socks to the log fire to stir the dying embers. It was his sixth day in Scotland, and he loved the fresh atmosphere around the loch. Yet his thoughts would often wander from his writing to ideas beyond the stars themselves.
    Not far from the fireplace, there stood a rickety mahogany table. Upon its highly polished surface were the letters of the alphabet neatly arranged in a circle. In the centre of the spread of letter cards was an upturned wine glass and on the floor near the table lay a large black book, its cover embossed with the design of unusual symbols and figures as befitting a witch or necromancer.
    Herbert eyed the book and table. There was a glimmer of temptation in his blue eyes. Dare he work further on his project? Bouncing up from his seat, the fire behind him now crackling, Herbert dipped into the somewhat dusty manual. He thumbed through its pages searching for a section that he had already read previously, entitled
    ‘Calling Up The Spirit Of The Glass’.
    Closing his eyes tightly, he memorised a passage that had already been scored and marked heavily. Slowly he opened his eyes and dispensed with the book of magic, sitting himself comfortably at the small table. He placed his left index finger on the upturned glass. A cold shiver ran down his spine, and his torso shook momentarily, as an unusually strong atmosphere seemed to present itself in the room. Herbert began to feel a little cold though the fire had now got well under way, and he bunched his toes together, rubbing his feet at the same time.
    Although it was two o’clock in the afternoon the lighting in the room seemed to dim, despite the brilliant May sunshine outside. Herbert sensed he should move the glass, and as he did so, the wine goblet began pushing his fingers vigorously from letter to letter. He shivered at this uncanny development to contact the other side. Then, culminating with a spray of sparks in the fireplace, the glass spun violently from the table, smashing into several pieces on the stone floor by the doorway. Before Herbert could react, a spiralling column of air swept the cards and table to opposite sides of the room. Books, candleholders, loose furniture, fixtures and fittings were scattered mercilessly about the room. Herbert found himself thrust tightly into a corner unable to counter the unseen force in the room.
    Gradually a white outline emerged from the chaos.
    Herbert dived for the crucifix and swung it around his neck for protection. The ghostly shape of Vena materialised before Herbert. Glimpsing his timid face, she collapsed and fell on the stone floor.
    Sezon drew up a large rock in front of the camp fire. The contrasting cold evenings on Karfel always required plenty of artificial heat. He offered the make-do seat to Peri, who was still getting used to the fact that he was on her side.
    Katz took the opportunity to discuss the state of affairs on Karfel as they currently stood. ‘Which ruler would actually want to provoke an all-out attack on his own planet?’ she asked, as Peri listened with concern.
    ‘What would he achieve, killing everyone on this planet?’ returned Peri, mystified.
    ‘Not everyone.’ Sezon moved nearer the welcoming heat of the camp fire. ‘The Bandrils have a bendalypse warhead which they won’t hesitate to use. It’ll completely annihilate all life here that supports a central nervous system.’
    Katz stoked the fire. ‘Except the Morlox - they don’t have one.’
    ‘Would sort of make him king of the desolation,’
    concluded Peri.
    Katz smiled