Giles regarded the newcomer for a moment. For now, he guessed he would accept him at face value.
“So the Druids never did die out?”
“Certainly not. We just became decidedly less public. We have still passed our knowledge on down through the ages.
“There have always been small cells of us, a few hundred strong, often throughout Europe, sometimes elsewhere. We could not let the way die out, for we knew there would come a time when we would be needed again.”
He paused and looked from Giles to Buffy and back again. “That time is now upon us.”
Buffy nodded. “You talked about this in the car last night.”
“In the car?” Giles asked, ever-so-slightly aghast. Buffy had accepted a ride from this stranger? Most certainly she was the Slayer, but sometimes he thought Buffy had no common sense.
The Druid nodded. “I am sorry if my methods are somewhat abrupt, but we do not have much time. All the information I had at my disposal suggested that Miss Summers was the Slayer. As soon as I determined that was indeed the case, I decided to contact her and then you with all speed so that I might pursue what must be done.”
“What must be done?” Giles didn’t like someone else marching in here and making demands. Perhaps it came from the past couple of years of dealing with vampires, monsters, and assorted demons, but Giles was very wary of this George.
George appeared to sense Giles’s reluctance. “I’m sorry. I’m being impatient now that we are so close. Some explanation is in order.” He sighed. “Where to begin? With the Hellmouth, I suppose.”
He paused for a moment before he continued, as if he were choosing his words very carefully. “No doubt you are aware that there are certain points of power in the world. Stonehenge might be the most famous example, a temple built by those people who came before the Druids, but used by our priests for many of their rituals for over two thousand years. Through the mysteries of our planet, which even we do not fully understand, these places of power shift in strength and importance. Sometimes, of course, they even are lost to us, such as that place of power that was once the center of Atlantis, now lost far beneath the sea.
“And the shifts continue today. We have noticed the major points of power in Europe have been fading for the last hundred years, replaced in strength by a point in China, another in Africa, and this third one, the Hellmouth, the strongest of them all.”
He turned away from Buffy and Giles for a moment to look at the rows and rows of books around them. “This is quite an impressive collection, Mr. Giles. Learned books on many of the great mysteries, including a few, I see, on this very topic. Should we be able to combine your knowledge with our own, we will not fail. But I’m getting ahead of myself.”
He turned back to the three in the room, but his eyes no longer seemed to focus on them, instead gazing off into some space far beyond them.
“We detected it first, perhaps a century ago. The delicate balance between man and nature was shifting farther from the center than it ever had been before. To the common man it could be seen in the increased outbursts of violence in our cities and in our homes, the proliferation of serial killers, the never-ending ethnic, religious, and caste wars that seem to spring up all over the globe. All these symptoms could be explained away and might eventually be treated, even eradicated, by modern day means.
“But there is a darker side to this shift in the balance, which you have seen here, and we have seen at other points of power. When the delicate balance of nature is disrupted, darker things emerge. Our ancient stories talk about the ten thousand demons, waiting to emerge from the other side.”
“Ten thousand demons?” Giles vaguely remembered reading something about that in one of the early versions of their not-quite-perfect computer program—something about a particular demon who specialized in eating eyes.
George cleared his throat, as if surprised by the interruption. “I do not know if that is literally true,” he replied. “Any oral tradition, even our own, will elaborate over the course of time. But whatever their true nature, the supernatural forces will attempt to reassert their dominion over the Earth—a dominion they enjoyed before the Druids drove them out nearly five thousand years ago.”
“Five thousand years?” Buffy asked.
George allowed himself the faintest of smiles. “A long time for you and me. A heartbeat for the forces of evil.”
He looked again to the three in the room. “The elders of my order came to realize that if something were not done quickly to shift the balance closer to its natural course, the forces of darkness would be freed again to rule the world.
“Alas, we tried to change the balance at one of the old points of power, too far away from the source. It was a foolish miscalculation. This spell would effect the whole world. Therefore, it must be conducted at the world’s strongest point.
“The spellcasting was a disaster. Some of you have met my nephews. It was in attempting this spell that the boys’ father met his death. The point of power was not strong enough. It is only then that the elders realized that in order to succeed, we had to seek out the strongest mystic point on the entire face of the earth.”
He paused for an instant before adding:
“Only by using the Hellmouth might we drive back the forces of evil and save the world.”
He smiled then. “That’s why we’re here, my nephews and I. I have the necessary knowledge. My nephews may lack experience, but they are young and strong, willing to face up to the task ahead. Even we are not certain of all the signs. This may be our last opportunity.”
“Maybe this is what the prophecy means!” Willow piped up.
George frowned. “What do you mean—prophecy?”
“Just an experiment my students and I are conducting,” Giles replied curtly. The Druid’s words certainly sounded plausible. But Giles still wanted to know a lot more about their plans before he shared any facts of his own.
“Well, not the one about the vampires,” Willow continued, apparently oblivious to Giles’s concerns. “But this one, maybe: ‘A new wave will sweep the surface clean. Beware of those lurking below.’ ”
George frowned. There was a long moment of silence.
“Interesting,” he said at last. “What do you think it means?”
“I was hoping you could tell us,” Willow replied, “you being a Druid and all.”
George shook his head. “Prophecy has always been a part of the Druidic art. Unfortunately, it is an inexact art, and one in which I am not well versed.”
He paused again, as if listening to something that Giles could not hear. “We will have to talk again. Now, there are things I must do.”
He nodded to each of the three before him. “The things we fight have been hidden by the rush to technology from much of the rest of the world. Here, on the Hellmouth, there is no ignoring these changes. You see them every day.
“Certainly you have noticed the extreme amount of activity—the ever greater prevalence of pure evil. We are here to stop it, before it is too late.
“There are those who are determined to stop us, for we would tip the balance once more, banishing their kind of terror from the earth.
“In ancient times, the priests and the Slayer worked side by side, I was hoping we might do so again.
“But I have already taken too much of your time. I will give you time to discuss this. I imagine, should you go to the Bronze tonight, you will find my nephews. Tell them if you wish to speak further.”
The Druid took a single step away from them. Shadows seemed to swirl around him, shadows cast by nothing Giles could see. In an instant, he was enveloped by darkness. Then the darkness faded, and he was gone.
His final words echoed in the air. “Remember, we must act soon.”
Both Willow and Buffy gasped.
Willow said it first. “He’s using magic!”
“I could have told you that,” Giles snapped. No, he thought, no need to take out your anxiety on the yo
ung women. He took a deep breath, then added, “They are very strict about letting unauthorized outsiders into schools these days.”
“So he just popped into existence,” Buffy asked, choosing not to remind her Watcher of the demons, vampires, assasins, and ghosts that had walked the school halls recently, “right in this room?”
“If he was ever truly here at all. I believe we were speaking with some form of astral projection, something I would think would be perfectly in keeping with Druidism.”
Giles sighed. If only he could trust these Druids. He might finally have true allies in the fight against darkness. But earlier battles had left him cautious And there was something about George. Not his reserve—no, Giles was reserved. He expected that in a certain sort of man. George seemed secretive, like he was presenting a well-rehearsed speech that hid some portion of his plan.
“Still,” he added to the others, “I feel he wasn’t telling us everything he knew.”
“You know,” Willow remarked, “he’s the new thing in Sunnydale. I wonder if the Druids’ arrival had anything to do with the changes in the computer program?”
Giles hadn’t thought of that. “Whether everything left because of them? That’s a little extreme isn’t it?”
“Wait a minute!” Buffy jumped in. “Look at the second prediction. ‘A new wave will sweep the surface clean. Beware of those lurking below.’ It might apply to them.”
“You mean the Druids are the new wave?”
“Quite possibly,” Giles agreed. “Did you see the way he hesitated when Willow read him that? I believe he knew something that might make sense out of the second prediction.”
These Druids are a new wave? Well, they are in Sunnydale. It could fit, Giles thought. It still didn’t help them interpret the third prediction:
“A single night will mean the difference. The power could change everything.”
This Druid had certainly talked about power. This last prediction could very possibly be a warning. But was it a warning against Druids, or the things they were here to overcome?
“What to do?” Giles said aloud.
“Well, George isn’t the only Druid in town,” Buffy replied. “And his three nephews seem a bit more 90’s.”
“Definitely more 90’s,” Willow agreed. “Not to mention friendly.”
“Almost like real people.” Buffy grinned. “I think it’s time to follow up on Uncle George’s suggestion and get jiggy with some Druids!”
“Jiggy?” Giles asked. Sometimes, Buffy’s nomenclature left him at a loss.
“We’ll tell you what we find out at the Bronze,” Willow interpreted.
Chapter 10
XANDER WAS AMAZED AT HOW MUCH THEY HAD TO talk about. Here they were, he and Oz from Sunnydale, USA, and three guys from some unpronounceable town in Wales, of all places. But they could talk about things that most other people in Sunnydale wouldn’t even dream of. Vampires, werewolves, Incan mummies—these three guys just accepted these things. What a relief it was to finally be able to talk openly about this stuff. Just a bunch of guys hanging at the Bronze, who had to face the supernatural every day. Xander thought he could get into this sort of thing.
Ian had just finished telling a story of a particularly nasty demon they had helped their father with. All four of them had to write the proper mystical symbols, each one of the four slightly different, and in the proper sequence, in order to banish the creature from this physical plane.
“Sounds sort of like playing in a rock band,” Oz said. “The drummer pounds, the bass guy plunks, the lead guitar’s got your power chords, and then the singer brings in the words. Hey, you’ve got a song.”
“Yes, it was rather like that,” Ian agreed.
“Our father was very good at incantations,” Tom added with a sad smile. “That’s the thing that finally banished the creature.”
“It was one of the best I’ve ever heard,” Dave said, quietly echoing the sentiment. “It’s . . .” Dave turned away. He was very still. Xander wondered what it would be like to lose a father. He decided to leave the joke book out of it for now.
“You were very proud of your father?” Xander asked.
“Oh, certainly that,” Tom agreed. The three brothers glanced at each other. Dave still looked like he was about to break down in tears. “He taught us just about everything. But our father was always very gifted—perhaps the most gifted—among our order in using the mystic arts. He’d be able to handle this Hellmouth thing in a snap.”
“Hey!” Xander blurted. These guys were assuming an awful lot. Buffy and the gang had to work full time just to keep Sunnydale standing. “The Hellmouth isn’t exactly Sesame Street!”
Tom shuffled his feet. “No, but then Big Bird wasn’t a Druid, either.”
“Our Uncle George, you see,” Ian cut in. “He certainly means well, and with the proper preparation, he’ll get the job done.”
“He’s very methodical,” Tom answered.
“Just not very inspired.” Dave took a deep breath and finished the thought. “But until we come of age, he is our leader, and we’ll stand behind him.”
The three young men nodded in unison.
Ian leaned over the table to look at Oz and Xander. “That’s another reason we might need your help. You don’t have our training, but you do have practical experience.”
“Practical experience?” Xander laughed. “I guess that’s one way to put it on a resume.” When he thought of all his experiences with vampires and demons and giant snakes, he considered it more like “just barely surviving.”
“So, is there anything else you’d like to know?” Ian asked.
Xander thought for a moment before he replied. “According to Buffy, when your uncle showed up at the library, he talked a lot, but he didn’t say all that much.”
“Oh, that’s our Uncle George. He just likes to be mysterious.”
“Do you know anything about lycanthropy!” Oz called over the din. With the loud music at the Bronze, one could shout and still not be overheard.
“Lycanthropy?” Ian replied. “I believe so. We’d have to ask our uncle. It’s one of the more common curses. I think some of those back home are skilled in the tradition.”
Oz shook his head. “No, I don’t want to make somebody a werewolf. I want to unmake one.”
“All part of the same spell—I think.” Tom grinned as if he couldn’t wait to try it.
“We haven’t quite reached that in our lessons,” Dave admitted.
Xander hadn’t even thought about the possibilities of Druidic power. “Wow, you’re sort of like a superstore of spells, huh?”
“You want to be unmade?” Tom asked Oz.
“Well, maybe we could do that, or maybe not,” Oz agreed. “It’s tough. It’s one of the things that makes me me if you know what I mean.”
Xander guessed that he did.
“Still,” Oz added, “I wouldn’t mind being able to get out of the house on nights with a full moon, and not spend all my time growling and trying to eat small animals.”
Xander couldn’t relate to that quite so directly. Well, actually, he had been turned into a hyena once. Were hyenas that different from wolves? Anyway, he could still see Oz’s point.
Suddenly Buffy leaned past Xander and smiled at all the guys around the table. Xander always thought Buffy looked good, but tonight she looked fabulous, with a dark jacket and fairly low-cut blouse showing off both her fair skin and blond hair.
“Hey, guys,” she called, “what are you all laughing about?”
Ian shrugged, not quite looking her in the face. “Oh, we’re just telling your friends here some boring old stories about our homeland.”
“Hey,” Xander cut in, “don’t let them kid you. Some of the supernatural stuff they’ve faced is right up there in Slayersville.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t—,” Ian started to say.
“Well, I’m hanging over there with Willow and Amanda.” Buffy pointed at a table a few feet away. �
�I was thinking maybe later we could all get together?”
Before Xander could tell Buffy to bring the others on over, Ian said, “Well, maybe . . . later.”
What is the problem with this guy? Xander wondered. First, he grabbed Xander and Oz before they could meet up with their gang. Now he wouldn’t even let Buffy and the others join them. Did Ian have a thing about girls? Xander was half-tempted to stand right up and march over to Buffy’s table. He would, too, as soon as Ian and the others stopped sharing all their Druidic secrets.
“Oh.” Buffy gave a little wave. “Okay. See ya.”
What could Xander say back but “See ya”?
He turned to Ian as soon as she’d left. “Is it always that cold in Wales?”
Ian looked down at the table. “Oh, she’s the Slayer. She wouldn’t be interested in any of this.”
“Buffy’s nobody to be scared of,” Xander replied. “She may be the Slayer, but she’s regular people.”
“Regular,” Oz agreed.
A familiar voice called over his shoulder. “Hey, Xander. Here I am!”
Xander looked up. It was Cordelia. I’ve been looking for her all day. She finally shows up now?
“You guys look tight,” Cordelia said. “Listen, I’ll just go sit over there with Amanda and the others.”
Xander knew that Cordelia really wanted him to invite her to join them. Only, right this second, he didn’t feel like it.
“Listen,” he replied instead. “I’ll come over in a minute. OK?”
“Uh—OK.” Cordelia smiled and waved. “Nice seeing you guys.”
Now, Xander guessed, he was giving her the cold shoulder. But he was getting pretty annoyed with her, too. These last couple of days, it seemed every time she had promised to spend time with him, she ended up disappearing.
Ian smiled when Cordelia left. He seemed more comfortable when the women were gone. He smacked his hands loudly on the table.
“Here, we don’t have all night. I promised to show you a couple of little tricks.”
Cordelia stared over at the table filled with young men, her own Xander among them. Little puffs of smoke were rising from the middle of the table. Cigarettes weren’t allowed in the Bronze, but maybe Amanda’s cousins didn’t know that.
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