Willow looked around. The Druid had her backed against a shelf of books. “Uh, I think I really should be staying here—”
“I’m sorry. That is no longer under your control.” He frowned for an instant as his index finger touched his brow. “Willow—Rosenberg, that is correct? You are about to do a very important thing. You are about to save the world.”
Oh, Willow thought. That didn’t sound so bad.
“I promise you there will be no pain.”
That however, sounded worse. Willow did not like any sentence that included the word “pain.”
“Wait!” she called.
George shook his head sadly. Lightning seemed to leap from his fingers.
The room went blinding white.
Where is Buffy when you need her?
Chapter 19
NAOMI HAD BEEN WAITING FOR A MOMENT LIKE THIS all her life, and all her death. She had told the others to meet her here, out by the packing plant, in the most desolate part of town. Here, they could make their plans without being disturbed.
Naomi stood on the open loading dock, a natural stage, and waited for the rest of her kind.
Many of the vampires had left town when the Druids arrived—many, but not all. And others had come to take the absent ones’ places. The Hellmouth drew the undead to its power, like insects to a flame.
She saw the others gather on the broken asphalt before her. These were not the vampires with dreams of conquest, these were the everyday vampires, the car mechanics and college students and surfer dudes and housewives and high school nerds. Naomi had turned a few of those last ones herself. They were so easy to attract, so desperate for her bite. She so enjoyed having a half-dozen four-eyed geeks who had aced chemistry now under her spell.
Perhaps they weren’t the brightest vampires. Perhaps they weren’t the most socially adept. But these vampires had a quality Naomi deeply admired. For to these vampires, Naomi was a queen.
Eric had seen to that, giving her the full vampire makeover. Under his instruction, she had gone from high school chick to irresistible ice maiden in one easy lesson. He had given her depth and mystery and power.
Naomi glanced down at her pale hands with their perfectly formed, blood red nails. Who would have thought it would take her death to make her a real woman?
“Come out my children!” she called, eager to hurry them along. It was time for the final speech, and the final plan.
And so they came, emerging from their basements and back alleys, crypts and coffins, still wearing the mechanics uniforms and aprons and letter sweaters that had been a part of their former lives. These were the little people—sorry, the little vampires—perhaps a hundred of them or more, who would make all of Naomi’s dreams come true. She noticed with approval that Gloria and Bryce were there as well. She was glad she wouldn’t have to use any extra energy to hunt them down, but could let them walk blindly into her retribution.
“My children!” she announced as the parking lot filled with undead. “Your wait will soon be over! Tomorrow is our night.”
That got their attention. A hundred pale faces all looked up to her.
“Tomorrow, we will complete a spell in which evil will triumph forever! No one will ever look down on you again! In the new world, you will reign supreme.”
Eric had never exactly explained how this was going to work, but she trusted him, at least most of the time. Would he have helped her so much, done all those nice things, if he was then just going to turn around and dump her?
She only knew one thing. Soon, a whole new world would open up before her, and she and Eric would be at its very center, filled with the power of the Hellmouth!
Whatever that was.
But her audience was waiting.
“We are so close to victory!” she continued. “So I want you to meet here again, an hour after dusk tomorrow. We must fight one great final battle, to ensure that our kind will be triumphant—forever! And then, on every night between now and eternity, we will have our pick of the living! They will kneel down and offer themselves to us, grateful for our attention!”
A great murmur rose through the crowd. They liked that idea. She did, too. She hoped it was something like what would actually happen.
“So gather your strength!” she told her audience. “Prepare your thirst. Tomorrow we face the Slayer, all of us together, so that we might tear her limb from limb and feast on her bones!”
“Feast on her bones!” someone cried in the audience.
“Feast on her bones!” she repeated, and the audience repeated it with her.
“Feast on her bones! Feast! Feast! Feast!”
She waited for the cheer to die out, then shouted one single word. “Tomorrow!”
Naomi stepped back from the edge of the loading dock. She had no illusions. Her followers would engage the Slayer tomorrow and divert her attention from Eric’s business. But her followers were untrained. They would eventually overwhelm the Slayer with their sheer numbers, but not before many of them had been destroyed.
Oh well, Naomi thought. The spell will have worked by then. Eric will be triumphant. And there will be that much more for those vampires still around.
Her audience began to drift away. But she still had business with two of them.
“Gloria! Bryce!”
The two waited as the others disappeared.
“Come here!” she called. Both of them slowly approached the loading dock. Gloria seemed to be wearing some sort of fuscia gown. From its hideous cut and color, it must once have been worn by a bridesmaid. Where did Gloria find these things? She couldn’t tell what Bryce was wearing, which Naomi supposed was just as well.
Naomi waited for both of them to be immediately beneath her before she spoke again.
“Where were you two earlier tonight?”
“ ‘Tonight?’ she says.” Gloria looked confused. “What time was that?”
Naomi wouldn’t let Gloria slide out of this that easily. “Earlier tonight. I told you I would need you!”
Gloria looked over at the thing that had once been Bryce Abbot. “ ‘Watch over Cordelia,’ she says. ‘Don’t let her out of your sight.’ ” She glanced back at Naomi. “Is that what you’re asking Gloria?”
She was right. Naomi had said that. Could Gloria have actually been obeying orders?
Well, she had given no such conflicting commands to her muck monster. “Where was Bryce?”
“ ‘Where was Bryce?’ she asks. Bryce is still mortal. Maybe Naomi forgets that. Sometimes, Gloria thinks, Bryce needs to go and do things. Find food and water. Find a place to relieve himself. Is that right, Bryce?”
“Hu—hu—hu,” Bryce said.
Naomi was talking to two idiots. Maybe, Naomi realized, she had told Gloria to be somewhere else. And with the thing that used to be Bryce Abbot—when one took away most of somebody’s humanity, maybe a certain amount of intelligence went with it. Very well. Perhaps she would not threaten them just yet.
But, when tomorrow night was over, she would kill them anyway.
Gloria waited to make sure Naomi had floated away somewhere. She waited until all the sounds of the night—birds, rats, and insects—started up all over again. Those sounds all went away whenever groups of vampires got together—as if any selfrespecting vampire would eat insects!—and would only come back when the creatures thought it safe.
“I guess it’s safe to talk, Brycie,” she said at last, shaking her fist at the loading platform where Naomi had stood ten minutes before. “Well, isn’t she Miss High-and-Mighty!”
Gloria jumped up on the platform, ready to do her best Naomi impression. She strutted back in forth. “My children! Tomorrow—I give you—everything! And all you’ve got to do is kill—a Slayer! Someone who only destroyed the Vessel, killed the Master, trashed the Order of Taraka! What a bargain!” She looked down at Bryce. “Pretty good, huh?”
“Hu-hu,” Bryce agreed.
“Just who does she think she is?” Gloria went on. “ ‘Wait a minut
e,’ she says. ‘I want to talk to you two,’ she says. And we have to bow and scrape to her every word!”
“Hu—hu—hu,” Bryce agreed.
Gloria smiled at the thought. “Yes, Brycie, Gloria will help you put pretty little Naomi in her place.” She stared at the loading dock where Naomi held court. “ ‘Where were you tonight,’ she says. ‘I needed you,’ she says. Oh, if Naomi knew where Gloria and Brycie were, she’d be more than mad!”
“Hu—hu—hu.”
She jumped down from the platform and gave the muck creature a playful shove. It made a squishing sound where she hit it. “You do have a one-track mind, don’t you, you naughty boy?
“But we can save that for later. Now, Gloria’s got a plan. Naomi thinks she can tell Bryce and Gloria whatever she wants. Naomi thinks she’s got it all figured out.
“Well she won’t be quite so high-and-mighty if Buffy finds out about her plans. That’s what Gloria says!” She looked around to make absolutely sure that the two of them were all alone. “Now listen to me, my prince of muck. Gloria and Naomi both have to sleep during the day. But Brycie doesn’t have any such problem. This is what I need you to do—”
“Hu?” Bryce asked.
She considered her companion. “You’re not very good at passing along messages, are you? Gloria will write a note.”
Gloria chuckled as she searched the ground for a piece of paper. “It’s payback time!”
Oz opened the library door.
He closed it right away, and stayed in the hall. The uncle Druid, George, was in there doing something that didn’t look all that friendly. He heard Willow ask George if he was going to leave Giles like that, caught a glimpse as the door swung closed of the librarian slumping to the floor. He could hear muffled voices coming through the now closed door. Willow did not sound at all happy.
Oz quickly reviewed his options. Of course, he wanted to rescue Willow. However, it was his guess that Giles had already tried to rescue Willow, and Giles was currently slumped on the floor. Therefore, direct confrontation might not be the best answer.
One thing was clear: this not-too-friendly thing George was doing seemed very different from anything Ian or the other young Druids had told him about. What if they knew what their uncle was planning, and were lying about it the whole time? Oz made a fist. Nah, Oz had spent too much time with the younger Druids. Something would have come up about this whole plan . . . somewhere. He doubted Ian even knew anything about George’s plans. Whatever was going on here, old Uncle George was doing it on his own.
But Ian was out there looking for what Oz had just found. Oz wished he could go out and find the young Druid. Whatever Uncle George was doing, Oz had the feeling that Ian would be on Oz’s side. But, if he went and got Ian, what would happen if neither of them could then find George—or Willow? Oz had to have priorities here. And Willow was number one.
Strange light flickered through the small round windows in the library doors. George was doing something magical in there, and he had to be doing it to Willow! Oz had to fight back another impulse to run right in. Remember the slumping Giles. Think, don’t punch.
Okay. Back to those options. Sooner or later, George had to leave. Oz was standing outside of the only door. Now, the Druid could also leave by a window, but in the middle of the night, in a school where he thinks he’s all alone? Why would he bother?
So it was likely that the Druid would come back through that door, maybe with Willow, maybe without. If the Druid was alone, Oz would go check on Willow. If the Druid had Willow with him, Oz would follow both of them. Once he figured out where the two of them were going, he’d find Buffy, or Ian, or maybe both of them. That’s where the punching part came in.
Well, it sounded like a plan. But it didn’t give Oz much comfort. Who knew what was going on in there? The weird lightning flashes had stopped, but now he could hear a low noise coming from inside the library, a sound like a mournful wind.
Something banged on the other side of the door. Oz decided he was a bit too much in the open there in the hallway. He ran as quietly as his sneakers would allow to a spot some twenty feet away, to where another hallway cut across the first. He could hide behind the water fountain there and wait to see what happened.
He heard the library doors slam open as soon as he was out of sight. The moaning wind was louder. Now that the sound was no longer muffled by the library doors, it sounded like a hundred human voices wailing in pain. Oz could see a yellow glow coming from around the corner, too. He risked a look.
The first thing he saw was Willow, floating in the air, surrounded by the yellow, ghostly glow. She looked like she was asleep—probably another part of the Druid’s spell.
George was directly behind her. All his attention seemed focused on the floating body before him, as though keeping Willow in the air took a great deal of concentration.
Oz wondered if he could risk a sneak attack while George was so involved. Well, he’d have surprise on his side for a moment. But what would happen when that moment was over?
George waved a hand. The next set of doors were flung open before him, hitting the walls with a loud bang. Oz jumped back out of sight.
Or, Oz reasoned, he could not be suicidally brave and stick by his plan—follow them, find out where they were going, and then get reinforcements. Since he’d thrown his lot in with Buffy and her crew, they’d defeated all sorts of supernatural menaces. But they’d always done it through teamwork. The Druids’ arrival had sort of broken up the old gang. Both he and Xander had been spending as much time with Ian and his brothers as they had around their usual haunts. Now, though, it was probably time to get the troops together again, and maybe add three young Druids besides.
Oz realized he was making a lot of assumptions here. The three young Druids seemed like real people, but maybe they were honor bound to obey their elder, no matter what evil scheme he had in mind. Maybe, by going to Ian, he wouldn’t help Willow, but end up getting himself caught as well.
Nah. Druids or no, Oz knew people. The three young Druids might have some family issues, but in the end, he hoped he could count on them to do the right thing.
Doors slammed somewhere else in the school. From the sound, George was moving fast. Oz should probably start following faster, too.
He could see a dim yellow glow receding down the school’s central corridor. Oz walked rapidly after it. He heard another set of doors slam. Three sets of doors in the main corridor—that meant they were going outside. Oz hurried his pace. If, suddenly, George decided to, like, fly himself and Willow away, Oz wanted to at least know which direction they were headed.
But when he reached the front door, the two of them were only halfway down the sidewalk to the street. So he’d trail Uncle George at a safe distance. At least she was floating slowly enough for Oz to follow. Not to mention the ghostly light—it was hard to lose someone when they were surrounded by ghostly light.
George walked over to the back of a brightly painted van with the words Rent Me This Weekend! $19.95! He opened the door and mumbled a few words. Willow floated into the back.
Well, this wasn’t as bad as Druids flying away, but a van could lose Oz all the same. He waited for George to climb in the front, then sprinted from the school down to the rental.
The van had an unused roof rack on the top, the kind you used to tie up extra mattresses or furniture. It would have to do.
Oz climbed on the back bumper of the van, and grabbing onto the rack, hauled himself up to the roof as the Druid started the engine. It sometimes seemed odd that Druids would use modern devices like cars. Oz guessed he had always seen—if indeed he ever thought about it—them as sort of like the Amish, only with magic. Now they were driving around. They had probably even taken a plane to Sunnydale! It just reminded him how little he really knew about these people he’d only met a few days ago.
Oz felt the van beneath him jerk into gear. He didn’t have any more time for thinking. The only way he was ever going t
o rescue Willow was if he could manage to hold on.
Well, they were going somewhere, just not fast. This looked like it could take all night. Hey, who needed sleep when the maiden of his dreams was in danger?
He’d find where old George was taking her, then figure out if he could sneak in or had to go get help.
He’d figure out some way to save the day, whether he had to face magic or not. After all, he was pretty handy with a plunger.
The van began to gain some speed and went over some speed bumps faster than maybe the driving Druid should, each one rattling the van and jerking Oz’s arms at the shoulder sockets. Maybe George was just not very experienced driving a van. Maybe he was just planning to drive very badly.
But George’s driving didn’t matter. All Oz had to do was hang on for dear life.
Two lives, really—his and Willow’s.
Chapter 20
THERE WAS SO MUCH FOR GILES TO DO. MORE WAS happening in Sunnydale every day. He had been reading police reports of vandals out in the graveyard tearing apart coffins. It appeared to be getting worse from one night to the next. And then George had come to him with the story of another crisis, something that might affect the entire world.
He had so wanted to trust George. Buffy and her friends were wonderful helpers, but they were young and simply didn’t have the accumulated perspective on life. To have another adult with whom he could work—well, there had been Jenny, but it was so painful to think about Jenny.
Giles was walking. Where was he going? He was going to find George.
This isn’t real, Giles realized. When had he fallen asleep? When had he started dreaming?
He came to a deserted concrete room—a part of some old factory perhaps. George was there.
“Help me,” George said.
How could he? Giles remembered that George had done something very wrong.
“Help me,” George called again. Giles saw there was another, darker figure behind the Druid, a figure lost in shadow, all but his pale hands, which were clasped on George’s shoulders, holding him in place.
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