Part 18
Faith took the steps two at a time, with Buffy hard on her heels and everyone else close behind. The slayer reached the top of the staircase and barrelled down the corridor towards the bathroom. She skidded to a stop in the doorway, grabbing hold of the shattered door-frame to halt her momentum.
Angel stood stock-still in the centre of the bathroom, his fists clenched tightly by his sides and his deep brown eyes fixated on the mirror above the sink. Faith looked to see what the vampire’s attention was riveted on and a string of curses erupted from her lips as she read Styjasimok’s taunting message.
Faith’s reaction finally prompted a response from Angel, who had been frozen in shock up until that point. He vamped out with a snarl, threw back his head, and let loose with an enraged howl that sent shivers down the brunette slayer’s spine.
The irate vampire took a couple of steps forward and drove his hand violently through the mirror, shattering the glass. Angel continued to punch at the already broken mirror with his clenched fist, causing splinters of glass to embed in his skin until his hand and forearm were covered in blood.
“Angel – Stop!” Faith grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him roughly away from the wall. Angel shook her off with a warning growl, and started to suck in deep unneeded breaths in a desperate attempt to calm himself.
“What’s going on? Where’s Cordelia?” Wesley demanded, pushing to the front of the horror-struck crowd that had gathered in the bathroom doorway. “Faith?”
“He’s taken her Wes.” Faith replied, her eyes flashing with both anger and concern over Cordelia’s whereabouts.
“What? Are you sure?”
Faith laughed sarcastically. “Oh yeah, I’m sure. He left a nice little message on the mirror. When I get my hands on the bastard, I’ll …” The slayer made a twisting motion with her hands.
“Err” Xander raised his hand hesitantly. “Not to sound stupid or anything, but who are we talking about?”
“Styjasimok, you dumbass!” Faith fired back at the clueless teenager.
Angel closed his eyes as Cordelia’s beloved voice sounded in his mind; the memories suddenly triggered by Faith’s response to Xander’s question.
You know – ‘Silence of the Lambs’ dumbass!
They’re called cell phones, dumbass.
The image of his beautiful girlfriend kneeling naked before him, in the bath, in a LA hotel room assaulted his senses. It was just after she had asked him if he wanted her to move with him to LA. Well Duh! he’d replied. Dumbass! she’d shot back at him.
This recollection caused him to lose control of his emotions once again and he turned and swept everything off the bathroom shelves, sending bottles of shampoo, various items of makeup and several bottles of perfume smashing to the tiled floor.
“Angel!” This time both Faith and Wesley rushed forward to stop him before he could completely decimate the Summer’s bathroom.
“I have to find her.” Angel told them, his voice shaking with the effort to stay in control. “I have to.” His wild eyes brightened slightly as an idea struck him. “I can track her scent.”
The vampire was out of the bathroom and heading down the stairs towards the front door before anyone had time to stop him. Angel flung open the door and stepped out onto the shaded front step, completely oblivious to the sunlight and certain death that lay a few feet ahead; his entire focus was only on finding Cordy and getting her back.
Luckily, he paused for a brief moment to locate his lover’s scent, giving Faith and Wesley the chance to catch up with him. They caught hold of their friend’s arms, and hauled him back inside the house slamming the door shut behind them.
“What are you doing? I can track her.” Angel moved to open the door again.
“Not much beyond the front doorstep during daylight hours, you can’t.” Faith pointed out, as she blocked the vampire’s path with a cautionary hand against his chest.
“If Styjasimok took her, then he more than likely transported her out of here with a spell anyway.” Wesley added. “You couldn’t follow her scent then.”
Angel considered that for all of two seconds. “Willow could follow the spell.”
“Me!” Willow squeaked as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “I can’t, I mean – I don’t know how to do that.”
“So, bloody well find out how then.” Angel snapped, taking a few menacing steps towards the redheaded witch. Willow shrank back in terror; Angel was still in full vamp face and his yellow eyes burned into her with a frighteningly intense anger.
“Angel – stop it. This isn’t helping.” Wesley took his life in his hands and stepped between the furious vampire and the petrified witch. “You’re reacting exactly how Styjasimok wants us too. He took Cordelia for a reason; she would be the perfect way to get to you that’s for sure, or maybe he wants her for something to do with the raising ritual. Alternatively, it could simply be all intended as a distraction.”
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing, Wes.” Angel began to pace up and down in the hallway, wringing his bleeding hands.
“I’m not suggesting that you do, but we’ve got to take a step back and approach this rationally. We’ll be playing right into Styjasimok’s hands otherwise, and that’s not going to help anyone, least of all Cordelia.”
Angel’s shoulders slumped, his facial features slipping back into their human visage as Wesley’s calm logic broke through his overwhelming panic at Cordelia’s kidnapping. The vampire ran his shaking hands over his face, smearing blood on his pale skin. “All right, so what do you suggest?”
“It’s still a couple of hours till sunset. You, Faith and Buffy can go out and patrol then and see if you can find out where Styjasimok might have taken her. I think we should just continue with the research for now. If we find even a fake version of the raising ritual, it should hopefully give us a clue as to why he wants Cordelia; the encyclopaedia said that there wasn’t that much difference between the false copies and the true one.”
Angel raised his desperate gaze to Wesley’s, his deep brown eyes shining with unshed tears. “We have to find her Wes. I need her back; I need her here – with me.”
“I know.” Wesley replied quietly, his blue eyes filled with sympathy at his friend’s distress over his missing girlfriend. “We all do – you are not the only one who loves her. I’m sure Styjasimok will be in touch; he has too much of an ego not to gloat over his victory.”
Faith rubbed her hand soothingly up and down Angel’s arm. “We will find her, and when we do the magician is toast – with a capital T.”
“He’s mine.” A low growl emanated from the back of Angel’s throat at the mere mention of Styjasimok.
“Only if he’s not infected by the orb.” Wesley insisted. “You can’t be anywhere near him if that happens, Angel. Permanent soul or not – you’re still a demon and if you get infected …”
“I’ll probably become something worse than Angelus.” Angel finished for the watcher. “I know that Wes. I’m not stupid.”
“Maybe that’s his intention in the first place.” Wesley mused, furrowing his brow in thought.
“You think he might be using Cordelia as bait to lure Angel close enough to infect him?” Faith queried.
“It’s not beyond the realms of possibility.” Wesley replied. “We should get back to the research; the quicker we find out what’s going on, the sooner we can get Cordelia back home where she belongs.”
Faith nodded and took hold of Angel’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go and patch you up. You’re dripping blood all over B’s mom’s floor; I don’t think she’s gonna be very impressed, especially considering the mess you’ve made of her bathroom.”
Angel allowed Faith to lead him into the kitchen while the others returned to the dining room and their abandoned research. Wesley sat back down in his chair with a heavy sigh, the urgency to find answers weighing heavily on his shoulders. He reached out to pick up another book, but stopped when Willow’s laptop pinged and an electronic voice informed the room. “Match found.”
“What were you searching for?” Giles asked the witch as they all gathered round the computer.
“The Mark of Ayrion.” Willow replied and clicked on the link. The screen flickered, then cleared to reveal a picture of a circular mystical symbol. The text underneath the image identified it as ‘The Mark of Ayrion – symbol used to mark the ritual to raise the Orb of Ravaclesh.’
“Can you get it to search for a copy of the spell – true or false?” Wesley asked. “I’m not really that sure where to start in locating one.”
“Shouldn’t be too difficult.” Willow replied as she began to type. “I can but try.”
Wesley nodded and returned to his work. “Let’s just hope, between us, we can find something; Cordelia’s safety depends on us getting answers as quickly as possible.”
***
Cordelia’s eyelids felt like lead weights; she just couldn’t open her eyes no matter how hard she tried. Her hands and feet appeared to be tied down and her throat was raw and parched. The sweet, cloying smell of the chloroform used to drug her into insensibility still hung in the air, making her stomach churn with nausea.
Her heartbeat quickening, Cordelia began to panic at her seeming inability to move her limbs or open her eyes. Her harsh gasps sounded loud to her ears, and salty tears escaped from the corners of her closed eyes to roll down the side of her face.
Angel – where are you? Please help me, she screamed silently, before slipping back into unconsciousness.
***
Angel ignored the pain from his bandaged hand and continued to pound the leather punch-bag with his fists. He knew Wesley was right about not letting Styjasimok distract them from the task at hand, but the seeming inaction was driving him crazy. Angel needed to be doing something to rescue Cordy, even if it was just rushing around Sunnydale in blind circles trying to locate her.
“Go away Buffy.” he growled, alerted to his ex-girlfriend’s presence by the scent of her vanilla perfume and the sound of her light footsteps descending the basement stairs. “I can’t deal with you right now.”
When she didn’t leave, he whirled round to face her. Buffy had changed clothes and now wore a pair of jeans with simple white t-shirt; her blond hair was tied back in a ponytail.
“Don’t you ever take no for an answer?” Angel stormed furiously at her, his brown eyes flickering to gold. “I said – go the fuck away.”
Buffy momentarily flinched back from her ex-boyfriend’s fury, then straightened and stood her ground; she wasn’t a vampire slayer for nothing after all. “I’m sorry about Cordelia, Angel.” she told him in a soft apologetic tone.
Angel snorted. “Like hell you are.”
Buffy’s blue eyes flashed with anger. “Cordelia may not be my favourite person right now, but I would *never* want anything like this to happen to her.”
Sensing the honesty in the slayer’s words, Angel sighed and turned back to his diversionary workout. “Just leave me alone Buffy.” he repeated wearily.
“Angel – you’re hurting yourself.” Buffy crossed the room and caught hold of his injured arm – the white bandage was stained with blood from the wounds he’d reopened. “Please.” Her liquid blue eyes begged him to stop.
The last few days had been an emotional rollercoaster ride for Angel. The joy of gaining a permanent soul, the love and acceptance he had found in Cordelia’s arms, and now, the sudden horror of her disappearance. All this, coupled with the complete helplessness he felt at being unable to rescue her meant that, all of a sudden, it all became too much for him to bear. Angel sank to the floor and curled his arms around his bent head, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Buffy was shocked; she’d never seen Angel show any real outward emotion before. It was this outpouring of grief, more than any words, that finally forced her to accept that their relationship was over and that he really was in love with Cordelia. She knelt down besides her former love and ran a sympathetic hand over his back. “It’ll be okay Angel. We will find her, I promise.”
Angel nodded, and wiped his eyes with his fingertips. “I know I just …” He trailed off with a short laugh. “I guess I lost it there for a while.”
“I noticed.” Buffy said. “Faith said Cordelia stopped you from being all broody and closed off, but I didn’t really believe it until now.” The young slayer looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a pain over your relationship with her. It just hurts so much.”
“I know. I never wanted to hurt you, Buffy, but it was something I couldn’t really avoid.” Angel reached out and gently squeezed her hand. “All this silliness is going to stop now, isn’t it?” he added hopefully
Buffy smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I think the green-eyed ex has been banished; the new mature version is in control now.”
Angel smiled. “That’s good to know.” he said and got to his feet. “Is it sunset yet?”
“About fifteen minutes to go.” Buffy glanced at her watch as she stood. “Try not to worry too much about Cordelia; she’s strong – she’s probably giving Styjasimok hell as we speak.”
Angel laughed, despite himself. “I can well imagine.”
As Buffy watched Angel slowly ascend the basement stairs, a deep sorrow settled over her, replacing the hurt and anger that had been her constant companions for the last few days. No matter what, there would always be a part of her that loved Angel and she hoped that, when the pain of their break-up subsided, she would somehow find a way to deal with his growing relationship with the cheerleader.
Now though, she needed to focus on the here and now; defeating Styjasimok and preventing him from getting his hands on the Orb of Ravaclesh had to be her number one priority. Buffy closed her eyes, took a few calming breaths, and forced herself to set aside her personal problems to focus entirely on her duties as a slayer.
***
The second time Cordelia regained consciousness, she had a lot more control over her body’s movements. Her hazel eyes slowly flickered open and she turned her head to one side to take in her surroundings. She lay on a rickety bed in a small room, the only light coming from a dusty light bulb that was suspended on a wire that hung from the ceiling.
Her hands and feet were bound to the iron bed-stand, but after a few sharp tugs the soft material began to unravel. She struggled to free herself for a few minutes more and eventually managed to get one hand loose. Cordelia made quick work of the rest of her bindings, sat up and swung her feet over the edge of the bed to get a better look at her accommodations.
The room was perfectly square with a metal door and no windows; the air smelt stale due to the lack of ventilation. A glass and jug of water stood on a small table to one side of the bed, and her toilet facilities appeared to consist of a metal bucket. Other than that, the room was empty.
Not the Regent Beverly Hills then,she mused to herself as she gingerly lowered her feet to the floor; her legs still felt extremely shaky.
As Cordelia stood up, a wave of dizziness and nausea hit her, and she immediately fell to her knees vomiting the contents of her stomach onto the dirty floor. Choking back her sobs, Cordelia crawled back onto the bed, curled up into a tight ball in the centre of the mattress, and let the tears overflow.
Where are you, Angel? I need you.
***
“Faith, you ready?” Angel strode into the room and grabbed his leather duster from the back of a chair; he was impatient to get going – at last he was able to do something constructive in the search for his Cordy.
Faith slipped her arms into her denim jacket. “Five by Five.” she said. “Where to first?”
“Willy’s.” Angel replied shortly.
“You’re not going to let me beat the information out of him, or one of his informants, are you?”
“No, that’s my role – you can hold them down if you want though.” Angel offered as an afterthought.
“Gee thanks.” Faith drawled sarcastically.
Buffy entered the room, laden down with several weapons. “Here.” she said, throwing an axe to Angel and a short sword to Faith. “Are we ready to go?” Angel and Faith both nodded in the affirmative.
“Be careful.” Giles instructed. “Don’t rush headlong into anything and make sure you keep us informed.”
Buffy nodded. “Yeah will do. You too – I’ve got my cell.” She picked up her phone from the bureau and tucked it into her jacket pocket. The vampire and the two slayers then left the house.
A couple of minutes after their departure, Wesley slammed his book shut in exasperation. “You got anything yet?” he demanded of Willow.
The young witch shook her head. “Maybe I’m not setting the search options right.” she frowned in consternation. “I’ll try something else.” she decided.
The phone rang then, making them all jump; Giles got up to answer it.
“Hello?”
“..”
“What? Are you sure?”
“..”
“How?”
“..”
“What conditions?”
“..”
“Yes. You can fax it over to my place; I’ll go over and fetch it – you’ve got the number right?”
“..”
“Okay. Thank you. Goodbye.” Giles hung up the phone and dashed back into the dining room to retrieve his tweed jacket and briefcase.
“One of my contacts has found a spell to limit the orb’s power, once it has reverted to its natural form.” he quickly explained, pulling on his coat. “He’s faxing the details over to my place. I’ll fill you in when I get back.”
With that the watcher left, slamming the front door behind him.
***
Angel pounded the vampire’s already bloodied face against the bar one more time for good measure. “Now, are you going to tell me what I want to know, or do I have to continue to use my powers of persuasion on you?”
“All right, all right. I’ll tell you.” Simon (the vampire) whined in a nasal voice. “You didn’t have to be so rough, Angel.”
Angel released Simon’s blond hair and hauled the demon around to face him. “So talk.” he growled menacingly.
“This magician guy – the one who’s got your girl – he’s going around telling everyone that he’s going to extract the Orb of Ravaclesh from the Hellmouth. He wants us to join him in sharing the stone’s power.”
“He’s planning on raising an army of infected demons then.” Angel deduced. “What about Cordy?”
“I don’t know for sure, but rumour has it that he needs her for the raising ritual.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, nobody explained that to me and I’m not a mind-reader.” Simon replied petulantly. “These spells always need the blood of a virgin don’t they? Maybe that’s it.”
“She’s not a virgin.”
“She’s not? She sure smelled like one a few weeks ago when I …” Simon broke off as he suddenly found himself bent back over the bar with a hand tightly around his throat.
“I didn’t touch her Angel – I swear.” he hurried to explain. “I smelled your scent on her and realised you must be grooming her as your pet, so I backed off.”
“She’s not my pet.” Angel grated from between clenched teeth, as he struggled to stop himself from crushing the blond vampire’s windpipe with his bare hands. “She is mine, however, so if anyone ever lays a finger on her, they’re dust. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“Good.” Angel replied and removed his hand from the informant’s neck. “You make sure you let everyone know that she’s my property, okay? If anything happens to her, I will hold you personally responsible.”
Simon nodded, his eyes wide with terror. “Of course.” he stammered.
“I’m sure C’d just love to be described as your property; it has such an air of equality about it, don’t you think?” Faith commented dryly.
“Shut up Faith.” Angel snapped irritably, then rounded on the vampire again. “What else?”
“Nothing – oh wait – this raising, it’s supposed to take place tomorrow night at the High School.”
***
Cordelia scrambled to a seated position as she heard the clang of the bolts on the door being released one by one. The heavy metal door swung slowly open and flooded the little room with much needed light.
Cordelia wrapped her arms around her knees and shrank back against the wall, as her captor stepped into the doorway of her prison. She couldn’t see his features clearly because her eyes had not yet become accustomed to the extra light, but the cheerleader had seen his face in the mirror earlier, so she knew exactly who her kidnapper was.
“Well, my pretty wench; I think it’s about time you and I had a little chat, don’t you?” Styjasimok strode confidently across the room towards her. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, you know. The signs and portents said you’d be in Sunnydale at the required time, and sure enough here you are.”
The magician paused dramatically and lifted his hands up into the air in front of him. “Everything is finally as it should be; tomorrow night, thanks to you, a new world will truly begin.”
Part 19
“Yes!” Willow exclaimed, punching the air with her fist. “I’ve found it Wesley. It’s not the real one, but..” She turned her laptop around to face the others, showing them the spell on her computer screen.
“The Raising Ritual of Ravaclesh – original title.” Oz commented in his monotone voice.
“Ingredients: Eye of Newt.” Xander took over the reading of the text. “They really are going with the original theme in this spell, aren’t they?”
Wesley repositioned his glasses on his nose and continued to list out the ingredients. “Clover, sage and various other herbs, the blood of a seer, deadly nightshade and frezlam powder; that’s it.” The watcher paused, shaking his head slightly. “There’s nothing here that explains why Styjasimok wants Cordelia.”
“It says that the ritual must be performed on the night of the half-moon.” Xander squinted as he pointed at the words on the glowing computer screen.
“That’s tomorrow night.” Oz informed them.
“How do you know that? Oh yeah.” Xander gave the werewolf a sheepish grin. “I guess you have to keep track.”
“Things get kind of hairy if I don’t.” Oz deadpanned, his face never once changing from its neutral expression.
“Tomorrow, are you sure?” Wesley said, asking the teenage boy to confirm his statement.
“Yes. I’m positive.”
Wesley immediately turned to Willow. “You’d better call Buffy and get her, Faith and Angel back here. If this is going down tomorrow night, then we have no time left to lose. We have to come up with a plan of action now.”
***
“He was lying, Angel.” Faith said, as the three of them picked their way through the sodden undergrowth. “Come on, that Lefra demon would have said anything to get rid of you.”
“I know.” Angel replied, his voice low and detached, as he focused on the route ahead.
“So why are we traipsing right through the middle of this big-ass swamp in the pitch dark then?” Faith demanded. “This disgusting muck is ruining my boots.” She shone her torch down at the ground and wrinkled her nose in distaste at the mud-clogged state of her feet.
“Mine too. Styjasimok doesn’t really seem like the kind of guy who would set up camp in the middle of a forest, Angel.” The petite slayer helpfully pointed out to her former boyfriend.
“I know.” Angel repeated, his tone exasperated. “I’m sorry, but I can’t afford not to follow up on a lead. What if we’re wrong and Cordy is ….. Jesus!!”
All three of them leapt out their skin as Buffy’s phone began to trill in her jacket, the ringtone sounding extremely loud in the still darkness of the woods.
The blond slayer pulled the cell phone out of her inside pocket to see who was calling her. The glowing screen illuminated her pretty face with an orange hue. “Hey Willow.” Buffy tucked her blond hair out of the way and lifted the phone to her ear.
“..”
“You did? Cool. Say what?” Buffy stuck a finger in her other ear, trying to improve her ability to hear the other side of the conversation.
“..”
“Yeah we know; some vamp at Willy’s told us.”
“..”
“Giles what?”
“..”
“Oh right. That’s good.”
“..”
“What you mean now? He is aware that Angel isn’t going to be very happy about that, isn’t he?”
“..”
“Yeah, I guess. Okay, I’ll try. Bye.” Buffy ended the call and looked up at Faith and Angel who were regarding her with expectation. There was a short silence as Buffy debated the best way to approach things with the vampire.
“What aren’t I going to be happy about?” Angel solved her dilemma by getting straight to the point.
“Wesley wants us to go back to the house. They’ve found a copy of the ritual and so know that it’s going to happen tomorrow. He thinks we need to come up with a plan of action tonight.” Buffy explained.
Angel shook his head. “No way. I’m not leaving Cordy out there alone and defenceless; I have to find her.”
“Willow said something about Giles?” Faith queried, deciding to gather all the information before making a decision about whether she would return to the Summer’s house or not.
“Oh yeah. He’s found a spell to limit the orb’s power.”
“That’s good news; we should go back.” The brunette slayer told the tense vampire. “I’m as worried about C as you are,” she continued before he could protest “But we’re not getting anywhere here. It’s fairly obvious that Styjasimok has kept his whereabouts secret; every vamp and demon is telling us the same thing. We know he’ll be at the High School tomorrow night and C’ll be with him. The best thing we can do for her now is to find a way to stop the bastard.”
Angel reluctantly gave in. He knew the three of them were just going round in circles, but the thought of waiting another 24 hours, rather than actively searching for Cordy, filled him with fear. What if Styjasimok hurt her or worse during that time?
***
“Everything is finally as it should be; tomorrow night, thanks to you, a new world will truly begin.”
In spite of her fear, Cordelia began to laugh at the magician’s over dramatic proclamation; he sounded so ridiculous.
Styjasimok dropped his arms back down to his sides. “What’s so funny?” he demanded of the giggling teenager, his expression turning somewhat sulky.
“You really have been watching some bad science-fiction movies, haven’t you?” Cordelia commented, still laughing. “I don’t know who you think I am, magician guy, but you’ve got the wrong girl. There’s nothing unusual about me – well, aside from the fact that my boyfriend’s a vampire of course.”
“Ahh yes, the mighty Angelus.”
“Angel.” Cordelia corrected him pedantically. “He has a permanent soul now. I have to say, kidnapping his girl was really a bad move on your part. You are so going to get it when he catches up with you.”
“I should have known that the Powers That Be would try to interfere with your destiny and hide you from me.” Styjasimok mused. “I suppose they thought their champion could protect you. Pity he’s not up to the job, isn’t it?”
“Angel is more than up to the job.” Cordelia stormed indignantly, automatically leaping to her boyfriend’s defence, even though she didn’t have a clue what the magician was talking about.
“So it seems.” Styjasimok replied with a knowing smirk. He reached out and lifted Cordelia’s dark hair away from her neck to reveal the faint love bite still visible on the golden skin, physical evidence of her and Angel’s passionate lovemaking earlier that day.
Cordelia’s skin crawled at his touch and she slapped his hand away. “Get your paws off me, you creep.”
Styjasimok shook his head, snorting in derision. “Typical vampire, even with a soul, he’s still ruled by his sexual urges. I doubt bedding you was what the Powers That Be had in mind when they brought the two of you together.”
“Who exactly are the Powers That Be?” Cordelia demanded of her captor.
“If I succeed, then you’ll never know.” The magician told her. “If your pesky cohorts get in the way, then I’m sure you’ll find out, my pretty seer. We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”
“What do you mean ‘seer’? I’m not one of those.” Cordelia said sharply. “Hello – I don’t have visions of the future, nor am I as mad as a hatter like Drusilla. I told you, I’m not the girl you want.”
Styjasimok smiled at her protestations. “Not yet you aren’t, but you can’t fight your destiny, wench. The time will come soon enough.”
The magician moved back towards the doorway to pick up a bundle of clothes and a takeaway food bag. He tossed the garments onto the bed and placed the bag of food on the table. “Put these on.” Styjasimok instructed. “And eat something, your blood needs to be rich with life’s nutrients tomorrow night.”
“What do you mean, my blood?” Cordelia asked, her voice wavering as her terror suddenly returned full force.
“All in good time, my seer, all in good time.” Styjasimok answered cryptically. He turned and left the room then, shutting and bolting the metal door behind him, leaving Cordelia alone in her prison once more.
***
“The vamp at the bar definitely said Styjasimok wanted C for the ritual.” Faith filled her watcher in on what they had discovered. “Several others told us that too.”
“Well, I can’t see anything in the spell that explains why.” Wesley replied with a confused frown.
“We don’t have time to look into it anymore.” Giles interrupted their discussion. “We’ve got to find a way to stop him before he starts the rite.”
“Can this spell of yours help?” Buffy asked.
Giles shook his head. “It’s too risky to rely on that. It can only stop the stone from infecting others once the ritual is over, and there are limitations.” he explained. “We need to make sure that we only use it as a last resort.”
“What limitations?”
“The spell to trap the essence of pure evil in its chosen vessel can only be performed when that person is unconscious, otherwise the orb has the power to repel the magic.” Giles told Angel. “When Styjasimok has merged himself with the orb, he will be incredibly strong and powerful. Rendering him unconscious will be easier said than done, especially as you’ll be out of the game at that point.”
The watcher pushed a few sheets of paper across the table towards Willow. “You need to learn that; it’s Plan B should all else fail.”
“All right, so what’s Plan A?” Faith asked. “We kill the bastard before he has a chance to do anything?”
“Pretty much.” Giles replied with a tight smile. “We need to come up with a battle strategy to enable us to pull it off.”
“Let’s get to work then.” Angel was desperate to hurry things along even though he knew it wouldn’t reunite him with Cordy any sooner.
Hours later …
Willow, Xander and Oz sat in silence around the table. Each of the three friends periodically opened their mouths to speak, but quickly shut them again, deciding against stating the obvious.
“We could all be dead this time tomorrow.” Xander finally voiced what they were all thinking.
“Hmm.” was Oz’s noncommittal reply.
“At least I’ve had sex.” was Willow’s response
“What?” Xander’s eyes widened comically at his best friend’s confession.
“Oops! I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Willow blushed and threw a shy smile at her boyfriend.
“My bad.” Oz shrugged at Xander apologetically.
Xander sighed and rested his chin in his hands. “Looks like I’m gonna be the only 18 year old in Sunnydale, who will die a virgin then.” he said regrettably.
***
“Yes Mom. I love you too.” Buffy hung up the phone and sighed heavily.
“Joyce got to LA safely then?” Giles asked from the couch where he was trying, unsuccessfully, to read.
The slayer nodded and went to curl up on the cushion besides her watcher. “At least I don’t have to worry about her now.” Buffy hugged her knees to her chest. “You’d think after three years these apocalypses would get easier, wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t think it works like that Buffy.” Giles replied, his expression turning serious. “You’ve faced everything that has been thrown at you so far with strength and fortitude. I have every confidence that tomorrow will be no different.”
“Did they teach you motivational speaking at Watcher School?” Buffy said with an impish grin.
“I came top of the class.” Giles joked, returning her smile.
“I’ve never really told you this before, but I wanted you to know just in case. I love you, Giles.” Buffy curled up against her watcher’s side. “Not in a coupley kind of way though.” she added. “Cus – eww! – you’re an old guy.”
“Says the girl who dated a 240 year old vampire.” Giles commented drily, as he rested a fatherly arm around her slim shoulders.
“That’s different.” Buffy murmured and closed her eyes.
“Obviously.” Giles responded sarcastically. “I love you too, Buffy” he added softly as she drifted off to sleep.
***
Faith sat on a chair on the Summer’s back porch and took a long drag from her cigarette. “I’ll quit tomorrow.” she promised, sensing Wesley’s presence behind her.
Her watcher sat down on the cushioned chair across from her. “How you holding up?”
“My first apocalypse.” Faith drawled, standing up and resting her arms on the low fence that surrounded the porch. “I’m jazzed; Raring to go; Can’t wait.”
Wesley remained silent at her response to his question, watching as she nervously paced up and down on the porch.
“All right so I’m terrified. Is that what you wanted to hear?” The brunette slayer finally burst out, spinning round to confront him.
“It’s a start.” The Englishman replied, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. “It is okay to feel that way, you know.”
Faith looked down at her feet, avoiding his gaze. “Not for me. I only have myself to rely on.”
“Not anymore.” Wesley pointed out quietly to the young slayer.
Faith smiled and nodded her head. “I guess that’s true. I’ve got the Fang Gang now, haven’t I? Speaking of which – where’s the broody vamp hiding out?”
“Down in the basement, I think.”
“How about we go and keep him company before he drives himself crazy worrying about C?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Wesley agreed and stood up.
“I still don’t do the hugging thing.” Faith added, as they went back inside the house, but then contradicted herself by suddenly throwing her arms around a startled Wesley, bestowing a brief, but tight hug on him.
***
Angel sat with his back against the wall and looked over to where Faith and Wesley were curled up in two chairs, both fast asleep. The vampire could not sleep; his concern over Cordy’s safety was keeping him wide awake, despite his repeated attempts to get his body to shut down and rest.
Angel could still smell Cordelia on his skin and taste her on his lips. Her continued absence was causing a physical ache deep inside of him. The vampire lay down and closed his eyes, conjuring up her precious image in an effort to reconnect with her somehow. He remembered curling up behind his girlfriend the previous night and imagined her warm weight resting lightly against his chest. Angel pressed an imaginary kiss to the soft skin of his dream Cordy’s neck and eventually dozed off.
***
Cordelia lay on the dirty mattress dressed in the clothes Styjasimok had given her because she couldn’t stand to wear her own dirty clothes any longer. She had been staring up at the ceiling for the last hour, taking deep breaths and trying to keep calm, but without much success.
Your blood needs to be rich with life’s nutrients tomorrow night. The magician’s words kept sounding in her mind, despite her best efforts not to think about them.
Cordelia closed her eyes and thought of Angel instead. She tried to imagine him lying spooned up against her, his big hand resting on her stomach. His cool body would be keeping her surprisingly warm and she could almost feel the soft touch of his lips against her skin. Lost in her fantasy, her breathing became measured as her body finally succumbed to physical exhaustion and she fell asleep.
***
The Next Night ….
Giles looked around the little group; all were armed with an assortment of weapons. “Okay, we ready then?”
“Buffy?”
“Yeah.” Buffy raised her crossbow in a salute.
“Faith?”
“Five by Five.” Faith tucked her trusty knife in her boot.
“Willow – you got the spell?”
The young witch tapped her forehead with two fingers. “All in here boss”
“Angel?”
“I’m ready. Let’s just get on with it.” Angel replied, impatient to get going. “I want my Cordy back and that son of a bitch dead.”
***
Buffy stepped back and kicked the locked door of the School Assembly Hall in. They all piled into the room, jostling each other in their haste to find out what was going on inside.
The Hall was in near darkness, except for the spotlights that illuminated the stage. Styjasimok stood in front of the podium, dressed in black robes with a scarlet design running down the sleeves. A gold amulet, with a huge ruby in the centre of it, hung round his neck.
Cordelia was similarly dressed, wearing crimson robes with a black design decorating the arms of the loose garment. She was also bound tightly to a wooden chair that stood on one side of the stage.
“Angel! Help me.” Cordelia cried out, and began to struggle, the sight of her friends renewing her determination to free herself from the chair she was tied to.
“Welcome!” Styjasimok boomed in greeting. “Here to witness the raising, I take it? Or stop it maybe?” The magician shook his head. “Slayers are just so predictable; always trying to save the world.”
Angel was across the room in seconds at his girlfriend’s cry for help. He knocked the magician to the floor and wrapping his hands tightly around Styjasimok’s scrawny neck. “You are so dead.” he gritted from between clenched teeth.
Styjasimok was momentarily distracted by the incensed vampire’s attack, but quickly recovered and caught hold of his amulet, choking out a few words in Latin. Angel was thrown back across the room by the force of the spell. He slid along the dusty floor on his backside for a few metres, before jumping to his feet and morphing into full vamp face with an angry snarl.
Styjasimok scrambled to his feet, muttering words under his breath, one hand still on his amulet. The air in front of the dais began to shimmer; Faith and Buffy, who had followed in the wake Angel’s initial charge, were both repelled back by the mystical force-field that now divided Cordelia and the magician from the rest of the people in the room.
“Willow?” Giles appealed to the young witch.
“I’ll try.” The redhead answered and closed her eyes in concentration. She gestured at the magical barrier with her hands and it wavered slightly, but regrettably still remained intact.
“Nice try witch.” Styjasimok cackled mockingly. “You have great power; it’s a shame you don’t know how to use it yet. Give it a few more years and you’ll get there.” The magician grabbed a large knife off the podium along with a wooden bowl. “It’s too late to stop me now though.”
He crossed the stage towards Cordelia and began to chant the words of the raising ritual in a thundering voice. The petrified teenager looked up at him, with a panicked expression on her face, as he cut through the rope bindings that secured her left arm to the chair. Styjasimok roughly grabbed hold of her wrist and raised his knife.
Cordelia screamed as the blade sliced through the soft flesh of her palm causing her blood to flow in crimson rivulets down her arm. The centuries old magician allowed a few drops of her blood to mix with the ingredients in his wooden bowl as his voice swelled to a crescendo completing the rite. The bowl exploded with a bright flash, then there was complete silence for a few moments.
Everyone stood frozen in shock. Suddenly the earth began to shake causing the wooden floorboards to splinter and crack. Cordelia’s chair overturned as the earthquake became more violent. Styjasimok fell to his knees and let his magical barrier drop as his attention became riveted on the fissure that was opening up, horizontally, across the School Assembly Hall.
Angel was waiting for that and jumped onto the stage, rushing to Cordelia. He ripped away her bindings, pulled her into his arms, and buried his face in her neck relieved to find that her pulse was still strong and sure. Angel rose to his feet, pulling Cordelia up with him; he glanced at the exulting magician and then at the widening crack in the earth. Indecision over what to do paralysed him into inaction.
“Angel – make sure she’s safe.” Buffy called out, as she grabbed her sword and ran full pelt towards the dais. “I’ll deal with him.”
Angel swept Cordelia up into his arms, took a flying leap off the stage, and ran past the slayer in the opposite direction in order to remove his girlfriend from harm’s way.
Styjasimok, anticipating Buffy’s attack, raised his hand and used the same spell he had used on Angel earlier. Buffy’s slighter form was projected higher up into the air, and the back of her head cracked against a beam on the ceiling. The unconscious slayer, under the influence of gravity, plummeted to the ground and landed face down on the floor.
Faith yelled in outrage and propelled herself over the crack in the earth to land precariously on the edge of the stage, windmilling her arms to stop herself from toppling backwards. With a deafening roar, a circular hole suddenly opened up in the centre of the fissure and an oval stone shot out through the cavity.
Faith was thrown back off the stage by the blast. She crashed into the wall, and slid down to land heavily on the floor, dazed, but mercifully still conscious.
The Orb of Ravaclesh, glowing a deep red colour, hovered in the air above the podium. Styjasimok eagerly got to his feet and held out his hands towards the stone. “Let your power merge with mine, oh mighty Ravaclesh.” he cried out reverently.
The slayer watched, horrified, as the orb dropped into the magician’s outstretched hands. The stone appeared to melt and Styjasimok began to convulse as the liquid was absorbed through his skin into his bloodstream. When it was done, the old man opened his eyes, smiled and started to laugh, the sound echoing around the room and instilling a sense of dread into the shocked gathering.
Faith crouched near the dais, breathing heavily and chilled to the bone by the pure evil she’d seen shining in Styjasimok’s glowing red eyes. She glanced around the hall. A dazed Giles and Wesley were struggling to a sitting position a few feet away from her. Xander, Willow and Oz were huddled together on the opposite side of the room, all three of them pale and shaking. Buffy lay face down near the stage, still unconscious and Angel stood at the back of the hall, a petrified Cordelia in arms.
The slayer’s eyes met the vampire’s steady gaze, noting the frustration that was evident in his deep brown eyes. Angel was now unable to help her without making the situation worse. Faith gave him a quick nod and reached down into her boot to draw out her favourite knife; it was all down to her then.
She glanced back over at the two watchers as their voices sounded one after the other in her mind.
Styjasimok could still be killed, but his blood would be a deadly poison. He would have to be executed at a distance to prevent the orb from infecting his killer.
Only demons can withstand being infected though – the onslaught would kill a human being. I think a slayer could possibly survive, but certainly not without grave consequences.
The spell to trap the essence of pure evil in its chosen vessel can only be performed when that person is unconscious, otherwise the orb has the power to repel the magic.
Faith looked down at the long blade in her hand and back up at Styjasimok; she was only going to get one chance at this and she couldn’t miss. Accuracy meant point blank range so there was no way she could avoid coming into contact with the magician’s infected blood.
Her course of action decided; she slowly rose to her feet and backed away from the stage to give herself a decent run up.
I guess this is the reason I was born, the slayer thought to herself, Oh well, here goes nothing.
Faith sucked in a few deep breaths to steady her resolve, then took a flying leap onto the dais and drove her knife through Styjasimok’s chest.
Part 20