The procession wound up the steep hillside, almost a mountain by Earth standards, that 
stood to the north of the village, then entered a large opening cut into the side of 
the slope.  Grace and Brian looked at each other uncertainly, then crept carefully in 
after them.
   The tunnel of dry, carved stone they entered was dimly-lit by half-globes of the sort 
seen in the village.  This might have started out as a natural tunnel, but it had definitely 
been refined by the Isconians.
   They hurried forward, following as close behind the echoes of the villagers as they 
dared.
   The echoes grew stronger, and Grace and Brian slowed down.  Peering around a 
corner, they saw a huge cavern before them, lit with glow-globes.  The entire population 
of the village fit into it nicely.  Grace squinted, trying to see exactly what was taking 
place at the other end of the cave...
   She swallowed nervously.  There was a large cleft in the floor.  And that was where 
the Doctor was being taken.
   "Brian, they're going to throw him in there," she said, her hand grasping his arm so 
tightly that he drew in a startled, hissing breath.  "I just know it.  What are we going 
to do?"
   Brian looked at Grace, at the scene ahead of them, then back at her as they crept 
forward into the cavern as close as they dared, and hid behind two of the stalagmites 
that spiraled up to the ceiling, forming natural pillars.
   "You're staying back here, out of sight," Brian told her.  He held up a hand 
as she opened her mouth to protest.  "Look, Grace, just do this for me, all right?  
Please don't argue, just this once, okay?"  He took her hands for a moment.  "If it 
doesn't work, here's the key to the TARDIS..."  He took the spare key off and 
slipped the cord it was on over her head.
   She grimaced in exasperation.  "Brian, what are you--?"
   "I'm going to go talk to them," he said grimly, turning away and striding forward, 
with far more resolution than he felt.  "I'll tell them that this Master guy is a liar; how 
bad he is."  He ignored her whispered hiss of "Brian!".  If he'd glanced back, he'd 
have seen her cautiously shadowing him.
   Every stride brought him closer to the congregation gathered under fantastic alien 
patterns and eerily-glowing red-orange globes.  His steps began to slow somewhat.  
"What the hell am I doing?" he muttered desperately as he drew near the back of 
the crowd.
   Well, the saying 'never let 'em see you sweat' certainly applied in this situation.  
Boy, did it ever.  He shut his eyes for a few seconds, squared his shoulders, and 
marched forward.


The Doctor stared in dismay at the drop before him.
   "A pit," he muttered, closing his eyes momentarily.  "Why did it have to be a pit?"
   Behind him, the Master stirred.  "Baranac," he asked serenely, "may I have a 
moment alone with the Offering?"
   The Isconian leader tilted his head, looking at the renegade keenly, then nodded.  
He and the guards moved away.
   The Doctor tore his eyes away from the drop before him to glance scornfully at 
his rival.
   The Master smirked.  "Oh, don't take it so hard, Doctor," he said.  "You and I 
have always been Fate-Linked, pitted against each other as we have been, again and 
again.  And despite the set-backs, I've always known that one day I was destined 
to be the cause of your destruction."
   The Doctor stared intently at his nemesis for several long, tense moments, his 
eyes narrowed.
   Then he threw back his head and laughed out loud.  Heads turned in surprise as 
the Doctor's merriment rang out over the anticipatory murmur of the devotees.
   "That," the Doctor said, smiling and shaking his head in disbelief as he recovered 
from his guffaw, "is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard."
   The Master's own eyes narrowed in anger.  The Doctor was still chuckling in 
amusement when the renegade stepped near and back-handed him across the 
face.
   There was a mutter of surprise from those who had seen it happen.  Baranac and 
the honor guard, despite having moved politely away, certainly had, and now 
stood staring at the two Time Lords.
   The Doctor slowly turned his head back from where the blow had snapped it 
around to stare at his rival, his face expressionless.
   "Been developing a taste for that lately, have you?" he said softly.  "You used 
to be above that sort of thing."
   The Master stared back at him, slowly smiling as he regained his self-control.  
"You'll mock me no longer," he told the Doctor quietly.  "You don't fully 
understand the situation yet, so I'll explain.  You think they're just going to 
throw you in there."  He indicated the crevice with a toss of his head.  "You 
don't think I lured you all the way out here just to watch you fall into a pit, as 
amusing as that would be?"
   The Doctor stared back at him, his hearts sinking.  No, something that simple 
wasn't the Master's style.
   "You probably think me a cynical manipulator of these being's faith," the 
Master continued, with a hand indicating the congregation behind them, "but 
the truth is, I know that 'Shamileth' exists, Doctor.  What the Isconians call 
'Shamileth' is actually a hibernating Old One, trapped below when this world 
was formed.  Eons it has been slumbering, Doctor.  The natives became 
aware of it; apparently they possess a sensitivity to its presence.  All the other 
'Offerings' over the centuries, native Isconians all, were attempts to bring the 
Old One to full awareness, but sadly, were a waste of time.  On the other hand, 
contact with a more potent mind, say, a Time Lord mind, should do the trick 
nicely."
   "You're serious," the Doctor said, staring hard at him.
   "I've always wanted to meet a newly-awakened Old One, Doctor," the Master 
admitted.  "Flush with the incredible powers they are heir to, yet for a few 
moments disorientated, perhaps amenable to the direction of a strong will..."  
He stepped back slightly, smirking, as the Doctor leaned forward, his face 
creased in outrage.
   "If you think you can control an Old One..."  He shook his head in disbelief.  
"Every time I see you, your ability to delude yourself has grown by leaps and 
bounds!  You won't be able to control it, you'll just have unleashed it upon this 
unsuspecting planet!"
   Infuriatingly, the Master merely shrugged.  "Not every experiment works as 
expected, Doctor.  Still, I'm looking forward to seeing what happens."
   The Doctor glanced warily down the edge of the pit.  Was that an eldrich, 
loathesome glow he saw, way down below?
   He turned.  "Baranac!" he called, striding quickly over to the Isconian leader.
   Baranac looked at the Doctor expectantly.  "You are now ready to Rejoin 
Shamileth?" the Isconia asked.
   The Doctor grimaced.  "If I rejoin Shamileth, it may bring disaster upon your 
village, your whole world," he told the Isconian leader urgently.  "Stop this 
ritual - please!"
   Baranac looked at the Doctor a little uncertainly.  The being, the 'he' before 
him was incomplete, a fragment of Shamileth.  How could returning it to its 
source be a bad thing for his people?
   "Are you saying that it is not your proper time yet?" Baranac asked the figure 
before him.
   Exactly!" the Doctor said, smiling encouragingly.  As a stop-gap measure, this 
would do.  "For me to return now would be disastrous!"
   The Master came up close behind him.  "Still testing, eh, Doctor?" he inquired 
innocently.
   Baranac hesitated, confused.
   "It's not my time!" the Doctor insisted fiercely.
   "Oh, but it is," the Master said, leaning forward.  "You know where your duty 
lies, don't you, Baranac?"
   "Baranac, no!" the Doctor exclaimed, trying one last time to break through 
the Master's compulsion.  "He's wrong!"
   His guards suddenly stepped forward and grabbed him again.  They were 
certainly convinced.  Baranac blinked and shook his head slightly.  "Yes," 
he finally agreed, nodding.  "It is time."
   The Doctor made an incoherent noise of frustration as the guards hauled him 
forward to the edge of the crevice.  "Baranac, listen to me-!" he said, desperately.
   "Long ago, Shamileth was scattered across the whole world, and beneath, and 
above.  Now, all parts seek to return, to be whole once again.  For each piece, 
a time to return, to be Rejoined.  The task of the Faithful is to assist, to aid the 
Reunion, to help those fragments which have forgotten from whence they came.  
All must be returned."
   The litany completed, Baranac turned to the honor guard.  "Return the fragment 
to Shamil-"
   "Stop!"  A voice rang out from behind the congregation.  "Shamethil commands 
it!"
   Heads turned in involuntary surprise.  The Doctor's guards turned him slightly 
away from the edge of the crevice as they craned their necks in a attempt to better 
see.
   The Doctor blinked.  "Shamethil?" he muttered.
   The crowd of Isconians parted as a figure boldly made its way through.
   Brian Dempster, very pale, strode to the open space before the pit.  He stopped, 
staring around at the tableau his arrival had interrupted, and then drew himself 
up and blurted out:
   "I am the voice of Shamethil.  I mean Shamileth.  I command you to stop this 
Rejoining immediately!"


The smile on the Master's face grew wider as he gazed at the man before him.  
"Well, well, well," he said slowly, amused.  "Mr. Brian Dempster."  He looked 
around.  "Where is Doctor Holloway?"
   Brian glanced at him warily.  "Do not listen to him!" he declared, pointing at 
the Master.  "He is evil, and not a part of Shamelith"  He grimaced.  "Shamileth."
   The Doctor saw the expression on his nemesis' face.  "Brian!' the Doctor 
exclaimed.  "You've got to get out of here!  Take Grace and go!"
   "Why Baranac, look!" the Master declared, his voice silk and honey.  "We 
are indeed honored today!  Here is another Offering!"
   "Didn't you hear what I said?" Brian said fiercely, looking all around.  "This 
has to stop, now!"
   "Brian," the Master purred.  Brian glanced over automatically, and an 
instant later was caught.  The Doctor closed his eyes in despair as the renegade 
Time Lord beckoned with an index finger.
   "Don't," the Doctor asked quietly, not needing to look to know what was 
happening.
   Brian walked obediently over to stand before the Master.
   "Brian, I am the Master, and you will obey me.  Do you understand?"
   "Yes," Brian replied, dully.
   "Good.  It is your time to return to Shamileth.  Just go to the edge of that pit 
over there, and fall in."
   "Yes.  Of course," Brian replied, as if it were the most reasonable request in 
the world.  The Isconians watched with interest as he turned and walked directly 
towards the edge of the crevice.





To be continued...








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