“We so don’t have time,” Buffy cut him off.
“Uh, guys?” Willow said tentatively. “There may be another way.”
CHAPTER 13
“A Slayer . . .” The Master pondered this possibility. “Have you any proof?”
Luke answered him with a sneer. “Only that she fought me and yet lives.”
“Very nearly proof enough,” the Master conceded. “I can’t remember the last time that happened.”
“Eighteen forty-three.” Luke looked almost embarrassed. “In Madrid. Caught me sleeping.”
The Master gave a vague nod. “She mustn’t be allowed to interfere with the Harvest.”
“I would never let that happen.”
“You needn’t worry. I believe she’ll come to us.” As his two servants looked at him questioningly, the Master added, “We have something that she wants. If she is a Slayer and this boy lives, she’ll try to save him.”
Luke walked over to Jesse. His hideous face split in a macabre smile.
“I thought you nothing more than a meal, boy,” he chuckled. “Congratulations. You’ve just been upgraded to ‘bait.’ ”
* * *
True to the Master’s prediction, Buffy was even at that moment trying to plan a rescue.
“There it is,” Buffy said eagerly.
Willow sat at the computer while everyone else gathered around her. Showing on the screen was a complete map of the city’s electrical tunnels.
“This runs under the graveyard,” Willow explained, pointing to one in particular, but Xander shook his head.
“I don’t see any access.”
“So all the city plans are just open to the public?” Giles asked.
“Uh, well, in a way,” Willow frowned a little sheepishly. “I sort of stumbled onto them when I accidentally . . . decrypted the city council’s security system.”
Xander’s focus remained on the screen. “Someone’s been naughty . . .”
“There’s nothing here,” Buffy sounded disappointed. “This is useless!”
“I think you should ease up on yourself,” Giles consoled her, but Buffy turned on him, obviously distressed.
“You’re the one who told me I wasn’t prepared enough. Understatement. I thought I was on top of it, and then that monster Luke came out of nowhere—”
She broke off abruptly and Xander glanced up at her.
“What?” Xander asked.
But Buffy was remembering the scenes from the past night playing out perfectly in her mind. “He didn’t come out of nowhere,” she said excitedly. “He came from behind me. I was facing the entrance. He came from behind me and he didn’t follow me out.” She looked at the other three faces around her. “The access to the tunnels is in the mausoleum.”
“Are you sure?” Giles straightened.
“The girl must have doubled back with Jesse after I got out,” Buffy went on. “God, I’m so mentally challenged!”
Xander stepped back, ready for action. “So what’s the plan? We saddle up, right?”
“There’s no ‘we,’ ” Buffy corrected him. “I’m the Slayer and you’re not.”
“I knew you were gonna throw that in my face,’ Xander grumbled.
“Xander, this is deeply dangerous.”
“I’m inadequate. That’s fine. I’m less than a man.”
Xander turned his back on her and walked off. With a sympathetic glance in Xander’s direction, Willow appealed to Buffy.
“Buffy, I’m not anxious to go into a dark place full of monsters, but I do want to help. I need to.”
“Then help me,” Giles replied without hesitation. “I’ve been researching this Harvest affair. Seems to be some sort of preordained massacre. Rivers of blood, hell on earth . . . quite charmless. I am fuzzy on the details, however, and it may be that you can wrest some information from that dread machine.”
He paused, glancing from one uncomprehending look to another.
“That was a bit British, wasn’t it?” he admitted, embarrassed.
Buffy smiled. “Welcome to the new world.”
“I want you to go on the Net,” Giles translated.
“Oh!” Willow brightened. “Yeah. Sure. I can do that.”
“Then I’m out of here,” Buffy announced. “If Jesse’s alive, I’ll bring him back.”
Giles stepped forward, his grave expression softening. “Do I have to tell you to be careful?”
Buffy met his eyes for a long moment.
And then she went out.
She headed across the school grounds toward the outer gate. It was standing wide open, but before she could go through, Mr. Flutie suddenly appeared behind her.
“And where do we think we’re going?” Mr. Flutie greeted her.
“We?” Buffy was all innocence. “I? Me?”
Mr. Flutie gave her a patronizing look. “We’re not leaving school grounds, are we?”
“No! I’m just . . . admiring the fence. This is quality fencework.”
“Because if we were leaving school grounds on our second day at a new school after being kicked out of our old school for delinquent behavior—” The principal paused, drawing a breath. “Do you see where I’m going with this?”
Buffy’s mind worked quickly. “Mr. Giles!” she burst out.
“What?”
“He asked me to get a book for him,” Buffy explained. “From the store, ’cause I have a free period and I’m a big reader—did it mention that on my transcripts?”
Mr. Flutie stared at her. “Mr. Giles.”
“Ask him.”
But Mr. Flutie stepped around her, closed the gate, and locked it, fussing the whole time.
“Well, maybe that’s how they do things in Britain; they’ve got that royal family and all kinds of problems. But here at Sunnydale nobody leaves campus while school’s in session. Are we clear?”
Buffy kept her face pleasant. “We’re clear.”
“That’s the Buffy Summers I want in my school. The sensible girl, with her feet on the ground.”
The principal smiled before he turned and walked away.
For a brief moment Buffy gazed down at her feet. Then she took a leap, sailed easily over the fence, and landed nimbly on the other side.
She threw one quick look back over her shoulder.
And then she ran.
* * *
Willow and Xander left the library and went out into the hall. The bell had rung and students were already filing into their classes.
“Murder, death, disaster,” Willow mumbled, making a list in her notebook as they walked. “What else?”
“Paranormal, unexplained.” Xander thought a minute, then asked, “You got natural disasters?”
Willow gave him a nod. “Earthquake, flood . . .”
“Rain of toads.”
“Right.”
“Rain of toads.” Xander’s tone bordered on disbelief. “Are they really gonna have anything like that in the paper?”
“I’ll put it on the search. If it’s in there, it’ll turn up. Anything that’ll lead us to vampires.”
Xander looked grumpy. “And I, meanwhile, will help by standing around like an idiot.”
“Not like an idiot,” Willow soothed him. “Just standing. Buffy doesn’t want you getting hurt.” She cast him a sidelong glance, then added in a much smaller voice, “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
They’d reached Willow’s class. The two of them stood side by side outside the door.
“This is just too much,” Xander sighed. “Yesterday my life is like, ‘Oh, no. Pop quiz.’ Today—rain of toads.”
“I know,” Willow agreed, looking around at all the other students. “And everyone else thinks it’s just a normal day.”
“Nobody knows. It’s like we’ve got this big secret.”
“We do. That’s what a secret is. When you know something other guys don’t.”
Her gentle sarcasm was totally lost on Xander. “Right,” he said. “Well, yo
u better get to class.”
“You mean ‘we.’ ‘We’ should get to class.”
“Yeah.”
“Buffy will be okay,” she reassured him. “Whatever’s down there, I think she can handle it.”
“Yeah, I do, too.”
“So do I.”
But deep in their hearts, neither of them really believed it.
CHAPTER 14
Buffy made her way through the graveyard once more, back to the mausoleum.
Except for the feeble light angling in from the doorway, it was just as dark in here as it had been the past night, and Buffy moved cautiously, inching farther and farther into the gloom. Her eyes kept a continual watch. Every sense warned her that a presence lurked nearby, but the shadows closed thick about her, revealing nothing.
She reached the iron door on the opposite side of the room. She tried it, but it was locked. Standing there, she lowered her arms to her sides and let out a long, slow breath. Without turning around, she said, “I don’t suppose you’ve got a key on you?”
For a moment, no one answered.
And then her mysterious “friend” stepped from the shadows, a faint smile in his eyes.
“They really don’t like me dropping in,” he answered.
“Why not?”
“They really don’t like me.”
Buffy couldn’t help her sarcasm. “How could that possibly be?”
“I knew you’d figure out this entryway sooner or later,” he said, changing the subject. “Actually, I thought it was gonna be a little sooner.”
“I’m sorry you had to wait,” Buffy retorted. “Look, if you’re gonna be popping up with this cryptic wise-man act on a regular basis, can you at least tell me your name?”
Another silence. Then, “Angel.”
“Angel.” She waited for a last name. When he didn’t respond, Buffy added somewhat offhandedly, “It’s a pretty name.”
“Don’t go down there.” The warning was calm, matter-of-fact. Buffy shrugged it off.
“Deal with my going.”
“You shouldn’t be putting yourself at risk. Tonight is the Harvest. Unless you can prevent it,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “the Master walks.”
Stubbornly Buffy held her ground. “If this Harvest thing is such a suckfest, why don’t you stop it?”
“Because I’m afraid.”
It was an answer she hadn’t expected and wasn’t the least prepared for. The unashamed openness of his confession caught her completely off guard. She stared at him, at his face silhouetted in the dim light.
She kicked the door open.
“They’ll be expecting you,” Angel said.
“I’ve got a friend down there—or a potential friend.” Almost as an afterthought, Buffy joked, “Do you know what it’s like to have a friend?”
Angel didn’t answer. Buffy paused, a note of gentleness creeping into her voice.
“That wasn’t supposed to be a stumper,” she told him.
“When you hit the tunnels, head east, toward the school. That’s where you’re likely to find them.”
“You gonna wish me luck?”
Again Angel was silent. Buffy gazed at him, then turned abruptly and headed into the darkness.
Angel watched her go.
He stood there for a long while without moving, and his face held quiet concern.
“Good luck,” he said softly.
CHAPTER 15
The tunnels spread like a forbidden maze beneath the city. Dark and twisting, they ran in all directions, and as Buffy made her way carefully down a flight of steps, she wondered if she’d ever find her way out again.
She stood for a moment, taking in her surroundings. Damp, fetid air washed over her, and there was a faraway echo of dripping water. When a rat scurried across her foot, Buffy didn’t even flinch. Instead she squared her shoulders, chose one tunnel, and started down.
She moved slowly, her senses groping into every crack and crevice, through every thick bank of shadows. It was a perfect breeding ground for the undead, she thought grimly—and she knew they could be anywhere at all, watching her, waiting. With the murky blackness flowing over her, she continued along the tunnel, heart pounding wildly in her chest.
She came to a corner and turned. This new passageway seemed to be empty, but still she hesitated a moment longer, ears straining through the eerie quiet. Once more she started forward, every nerve on edge.
She thought she heard something then. Spinning around, she sneaked back the way she’d come and peered around a wall into yet another tunnel.
Shadows, but nothing more. A vague hum of indistinct noise, but nothing she could really identify.
Buffy pulled her head back . . .
And realized he was standing behind her.
For one horrible instant she froze. Her body censed, prepared for attack, and she whirled around, right into a familiar face.
“Did you see anything?”
“Xander!” Buffy exploded. “What are you doing here?”
“Something stupid. I followed you,” Xander didn’t seem at all contrite. “I couldn’t just sit around not doing anything.”
Buffy stared at him, not knowing whether to laugh or scream. “I understand. Now go away.”
“No!”
“Xander, you’re gonna have to!”
“Jesse’s my bud, okay?” Xander insisted. “If I can help him, then that’s what I gotta do.”
She paused, weighing the sincerity of his words.
“Besides,” Xander added, “it’s this or chem class.”
Buffy sighed.
Without further argument, they continued down the tunnel, reaching the end and pausing to listen.
There was nothing around the next corner.
Relieved, they turned into still another passageway, their eyes searching the shadows. They kept close to each other, bodies tense, ready for anything.
“Okay,” Xander said, trying to prepare himself. “So, crosses, garlic, stake through the heart.”
“That’ll get it done,” Buffy assured him.
“Cool. Of course, I don’t actually have any of those things.”
Buffy gave him a look, then immediately handed him a cross. “Good thinking.”
“Well, the part of my brain that would tell me to bring that stuff is still busy telling me not to come down here,” Xander defended himself. “I brought this, though.”
He produced a flashlight and flicked it on. The bright beam of light stabbed through the darkness, illuminating seeping walls and oozing puddles underfoot.
“Turn that off!” Buffy hissed while Xander scrambled to do so.
“Okay, okay,” Xander complied. “So, what else?”
“What else what?”
“For vampire slayage.”
Buffy sighed. “Fire, beheading, sunlight, holy water . . . the usual.”
“So,” Xander’s voice sounded a little weak. “You’ve done some beheading in your time?”
“Oh, yeah. There was this one time, I was pinned down by this vampire, he played left tackle for the varsity—I mean, before he was . . . well anyway, he’s got one of those really thick necks, and all I’ve got is a little X-Acto knife—”
She broke off abruptly as Xander gaped at her.
“You’re not loving this story,” she accused him.
Xander managed to suppress a shudder. “Actually,” he mumbled, “I find it oddly comforting.”
CHAPTER 16
In the library, Giles was on a quest of his own.
With his ancient texts spread out upon the table, he looked closely from one to another, reading passages, pondering their various meanings. He’d been at it for some time now, and the look on his face was weary but still determined. He picked up yet another of his volumes, consulted it, and suddenly discovered something quite interesting.
Giles peered closely at one particular passage. And then he began to translate it aloud, softly to himself, from the original Latin
.
“ ‘For they will gather, and be gathered. All that is theirs shall be his. . . . From the Vessel pours life.’ ” Giles paused, repeating thoughtfully, “Pours life . . .”
He studied the engraving on the facing page of his book. The picture showed a hideous man-beast with his hand extended, commanding a throng of villagers. All of the villagers were bleeding. Below them, in what might have been hell, a demon glowed with power.
Giles leaned closer. His brow furrowed in concentration.
Upon the bestial one’s forehead, a crude symbol had been drawn. A star with three points.
Giles squinted behind his glasses, peering intently at yet another passage. Once more he began to read.
“ ‘On the night of the crescent moon, the first past the solstice, it will come.’ ”
He straightened up. Realization dawned upon his face.
“Of course,” he mumbled. “Tonight.”
* * *
“Are we going to the Bronze tonight?” Harmony asked Cordelia.
They were in computer class—definitely not one of Cordelia’s favorites. And today—like all other days—even though everyone else was working diligently on their assignments, devising programs was the furthest thing from Cordelia’s mind.
Now she glanced over at Harmony, her class partner, who was also struggling to make sense of their project, and Harmony realized that Cordelia hadn’t heard her question.
“No!” Cordelia burst out in total frustration. “It’s supposed to find the syntax and match it. Or, wait . . .”
Harmony kept her eyes on the keyboard, typing slowly. “Are we going to the Bronze tonight?” she asked again.
“No,” Cordelia retorted. “We’re going to the other cool place in Sunnydale.”
Harmony gave her a blank look, and Cordelia sighed.
“Of course we’re going to the Bronze! Friday night, no cover. But you should have been there last night.”
Harmony didn’t ask what had happened. Instead she just frowned at their program. “I think we did this part wrong.”
“Why do we have to devise these programs?” Cordelia asked irritably. “Isn’t that what nerds are for?” She glanced at the desk beside them where Willow was sitting. “What did she do?” she mumbled.
The Harvest Page 6
