The agony stopped, leaving mere pain.

Wincing at every movement, Xander looked round, trying to see what Ms Calender was up to.

"You still hope?" she said. "How charmingly naïve. You will die today, the first of many sacrifices to my Lord Moloch, and you will go gladly to your death. I guarantee it."

Giles laughed. "Empty words. He has seen a whisperer in darkness; your petty tortures cannot break him."

"Is that true?" Ms Calender snapped, staring intently at Xander.

He nodded slowly, half his mind on his much abused body. His injuries were healing fast, thanks to the magic, but the pain lingered, a fire in his flesh.

He'd experienced worse though, in his nightmares after the morgue. Xander could still vividly remember what it felt like to be slowly lowered into a furnace by his mother, the flames licking up his legs as he screamed for mercy.

With practised ease, Xander buried the memory deep, then smiled inwardly. He'd beaten the whisperer-spawned nightmares; a possessed teacher should not be a problem, even if she did look like Willow.

"He's seen also seen Loki, Fein Dahlk, and Death itself," Giles added. "He is a child of the hell mouth, stronger than you can imagine."

She shuddered. "Loki is nothing, but the others … I'll just have to destroy his soul."

"Why?" Fritz asked. "Who's Fein Dahlk?"

"A high priest of the Ebon Maw," Ms Calender said, slowly walking towards him, "but you don't understand what that means, do you?"

"Explain yourself," Fritz ordered, his voice tinged with worry.

Laughing, Ms Calender caressed his chest, then whispered a single word.

"I said—"

"You cannot command me," she said. "You never could. I am the chosen consort of the great Moloch. You are merely the tool by which I was created, a pawn in the great plan, no longer useful save as raw material."

"Want to buy a bridge?" Xander said weakly. It didn't matter who she thought her master was, she should still have realised that it could be using her just like it had used Fritz.

"Jenny, do you really think—" Fritz began, then paused, fear dawning on his face. "You've paralysed me."

"The first betrayal," Giles said softly, looking intently at Xander, "but not the last. The herald won't let Jenny realise that though, not until it's too late. Such is the true nature of evil."

Ignoring him, Ms Calender touched Fritz on the forehead.

"Remember the boy you were," she said, and his faced filled with horror.

After a few moments, he scowled at her. "You hacked my brain," he spat, "you—"

"Don't you want to know what happens next," Ms Calender said teasingly.

"Yes," Fritz said. "It can't be any worse than the things you made me doing, sleeping with that—"

"Foolish child," Ms Calender said. "Educating you will be a pleasure."

Xander repressed a smile. Gloating would give him time to think about escape.

"It is possible to bootstrap one's way to godhood, the way you sought to do," Ms Calender said, "but the path is long, nor are there any short cuts to apotheosis. The purpose of this ritual is quite different …"

He didn't want to leave Giles behind — it had been bad enough hearing Owen's screams as he ran — but getting him out of the manacles would be difficult, not something he could do while Ms Calender was trying to stop him. He'd have to knock her out first, if he could, even though she had Willow's face. At least Fritz was paralysed.

"When I carve the missing rune on your chest, the algetic energies will begin to flow," Ms Calender said, "and the transformation will begin …"

Half listening, Xander smiled. It sounded like she was settling in for a long explanation, giving him plenty of time to plan his escape. He just needed to think of a way to free his limbs, and he'd have a decent chance. It wouldn't be easy, but—

It should have been much harder. Giles had said the herald could frighten even the gods, but that didn't make sense when it was leaving openings even he could spot, unless ….

Of course. It was another of the herald's traps, offering him false hope of escape by playing on his expectations, but the herald had underestimated him, or did it just want him to think that?

Xander scowled. Between Cordelia and Willow, he'd had enough of the they-think-you-think-they-think maze; better to cut through the deception, and act.

The herald wanted to give him a chance to escape, a chance it would make as painful and degrading as it thought he could tolerate, but if he took it, he'd discover at the last moment it had all been a trick. Well, he'd take that chance and stuff it down the herald's throat by doing something it would never expect.

He wouldn't try to escape, and he wouldn't commit suicide, too obvious, and too final; he'd disrupt the spell. Drawing that five-pointed star thing Giles kept using should do it, especially if he used his own freely given blood to scribble over the herald's evil runes.

"— but enough talk," Ms Calendar said, smiling. "Savouring your despair has been fun, but I can't keep the spell paused forever. Any last words?"

"Name your price. Whatever you want, I'll do it. I don't care, but let me stay human, please."

"Really?" she said. "You'd kill your mother for me? And desecrate her corpse?"

Fritz nodded eagerly. "Yes. Yes. I never really liked her anyway."

"A tempting offer. Prove you mean it. Gouge out your own eyes."

"Fritz," Giles said sharply. "That was not a promise. She won't stop there."

Fritz scowled. "Do I look like an idiot? Of course it won't end with my eyes. She'll keep on asking me to prove myself, in a thousand sick ways, but it's better than the alternative. At least I'll still be me."

Xander sighed. Fritz really didn't get it. There was no way Ms Calender would leave him himself, however much he squirmed.

"Go on then," Ms Calendar said, toying with a screwdriver. "Don't keep me waiting."

Fritz stuck his right thumb in the corner of his eye, then hesitated, his hand quivering.

"Not got the guts, have you?" Ms Calendar spat contemptuously, then laughed. "Not that it matters. Did you really think—"

Mid-sentence, she jabbed Fritz's chest with the screwdriver, drawing blood.

"—I'd let you settle for the lesser evil?"

"But — but—" Fritz stammered, his face contorted in pain.

"And you already have killed your parents," she said. "Their corpses are upstairs, arranged in a charming tableaux. Remember?"

Fritz paled, then shook his head. "See, I can be useful as I am. Please, let me stay human. Don't change me. Use me."

"Don't beg," Xander said softly, not caring if Ms Calender punished him. "You're just turning her on."

Giles nodded."Show her your mettle."

Fritz ignored them both, begging for his life between gasps of pain.

Unmoved, Ms Calender finished carving the last rune into his chest.

Fritz threw back his head and screamed, his jaw dropping open as his eyes closed.

Blood red lights flickered across his torso, leaving bone white scales in their wake, and Fritz screamed, a single wordless cry of agony.

Fritz's arms grew gaunt, the skin darkening while his hands twisted, fingers and thumbs shrinking into uselessness even as his nails warped into hooves, and still Fritz screamed, his pain-racked shrieks echoing round the room.

Xander winced, but did not look away. He needed to know what had happened to Fritz, so he could make the abomination pay. No one deserved to suffer like that, and even if they had, the abomination had no right to kill them.

Half-raising his head, Xander looked lower down, ignoring Ms Calender's pleased smile.

Fritz's jeans concealed his legs, but below them were two more hooves, awkwardly balanced amid the ruin of his shoes.

Xander looked back at his face, the only part as yet unchanged, then frowned. Fritz was still screaming, an endless wail, but the sound was fading away.

"A pity he has to be muted," Ms Calender said, "but it would not be practical."

Fritz wobbled, then fell forwards, landing on all fours, his arms lengthening as a spiked tail burst out of his jeans.

"Recognise the transformation yet," Ms Calender ask Giles casually.

"I will not play that game," he replied.

As Fritz shifted on his new feet, finding his balance, his belt snapped, his jeans falling away to reveal legs no longer human. Like his arms, they were a glossy black now, with sparse bristles and barbed spurs at the knees, a look that seemed oddly familiar,

"It's a beginning," Ms Calender said, then smiled at Xander, "but only that. Now I've jump started the transformation, it'll require a steady stream of pain to drive it to completion in a reasonable time. Ready?"

"No," Xander said, knowing it would make no difference.

"Good," she said, then picked up a chisel. "Where shall I begin? So many delightful choices."

Slowly, she sauntered toward Xander, one hand dipping between her legs, and as she advanced she began to sing. "Georgie, porgie, pudding and pie. Kiss the girls, to make them cry."

"Come ye children, come and die," Ms Calender sung, vigorously rubbing wire wool over Xander's chest. "Your blood I shall drink like water, on this day of joyous slaughter. Come ye children, come and die."

Upstairs, something hit the floor, hard.

"A rescue party?" Ms Calender said, sighing, then traced a rune in the air. "I suppose I can put this spell on hold again, for a few minutes."

"And if it takes longer?" Xander asked, trying to concentrate through the waves of pain.

The ceiling shook, cracks racing across the plaster.

"You die, painfully."

Xander smiled. "What a surprise."

If Ms Calender was telling the truth, he'd be able to disrupt the spell by simply delaying her, but she'd already demonstrated she'd say anything to give her victims false hope, just as Giles had warned. She must be lying.

At least the pain was fading as her magic slowly healed his injuries, ready for the next round.

The basement door slammed open, bouncing off the wall.

Ms Calender laughed, then adjusted Xander's restraints. "Take a good look at your rescuers."

Wincing, he sat up, then groaned. "Vampires."

There were four of them in the doorway, pressed up against an invisible barrier.

"Xander," Buffy shouted, somewhere behind them.

"Buffy," Giles shouted back. "Run."

"She can't," a glasses-wearing vampire said. "She's our prisoner. You lot, move aside."

"An offering, for me?" Ms Calender said. "How thoughtful of you."

"No," the vampire said, stepping forwards, a stout steel chain held firmly in one hand. "Mr Giles, will you give us your sworn word that—"

"Suffer," Ms Calender said, and the vampires' skin crumbled to dust.

Xander winced and looked away, wishing he could blot out their screams. They were soulless monsters, killers a hundred time over, who belonged dead, but torturing them for fun, that was just sick.

"I'm sitting on the largest accumulation of algetic energies in over twenty years," she said, looking disappointed, "and you think you can cross me. Fools—"

"Willow?" Buffy shouted. "What?"

Xander looked past the pain-racked vampires, their naked muscles wet with blood, and frowned. Buffy was coming down the stairs.

From ankle to neck, she was wrapped in thick steel chains, with heavy weights tied to her, but she was the slayer, inhumanly strong. Anyone else wouldn't even have been able to stay standing yet Buffy struggled forward, clumsily inching her way down the stairs.

Against Ms Calender, she wouldn't stand a chance.

"The other way," Xander shouted. "This isn't Willow. Go get help."

"From where?" Ms Calender asked. "Here and now, there is nothing that can stand against me. Soon, I shall sit at the left hand of my Lord Moloch, and all shall bow before us."

"Never," said another voice. "I am the master here."

Xander blinked. The glasses-wearing vampire was standing straight, looking calmly at Ms Calender, and its voice had changed.

"The local vampire lord, I presume," Ms Calender said. "Enjoying the aura of the death gate?"

"Spare me your insipid banter, woman," the Master said. "I do not treat with puppets."

Ms Calender looked thoughtfully at him. "You want to speak to Mr Giles? Why?"

"I was at Magdeburg, when the herald came," the Master said, his voice tinged with horror.

"Magdeburg?" she said. "In Germany? There was the siege there, but my Lord—"

"Silence," the Master snapped. "If Moloch truly be your master, I will treat with him directly. With a slayer on the table—"

"Hey," Buffy shouted. "You said—"

The Master casually slapped her, a flat-handed blow that left her spitting blood.

"You live by my sufferance," he said, then looked back at Ms Calender. "If her tale be true, I will see you and your master ended. This world is the rightful dominion of the Old Ones, and I am their champion."

Giles laughed. "They tell you that, did they?"

"I have read the ancient prophecies," the Master said flatly. "There can be no mistake. It is my proud destiny to open the mouth of hell, and so end the age of man. The Old Ones shall reign supreme, and I shall sit amongst them, for they shall make me as one with them."

Xander smiled. If the Master believed that, he was as deluded as Ms Calender, which must be why Giles had deliberately prompted that rant. He was making sure Xander knew the score.

"Moloch too is a servant of the Old Ones," Ms Calender said.

"Mr Giles," the Master said, ignoring her, "will you give me your sworn word—"

"Suffer," Ms Calender shouted, her left hand tracing a rune.

The Master staggered, one hand clutching at the staircase wall, then glared at her.

"You dare attack me?" he snarled. "I care not who you serve; for this insult, you shall die,"

"Empty words," Ms Calender said. "You were anticipated. This house was protected against your coming."

"By succubi?" the Master sneered. "Those pathetic creatures—"

"Were there solely to guard against escape," she said. "Look at the walls."

Xander half-nodded, his suspicions confirmed. If he'd escaped, the succubi would have grabbed him inches from safety.

As the Master looked, strange runes appeared atop the white plaster, glowing a sickly green.

"Hidden by a glamour," he said thoughtfully, then smiled. "You forgot, I am not truly here. I can withdraw, and—"

The Master paused, growling in frustration. "What have you done."

Ms Calender smiled. "You are pinned in that body now, for so long as I live. You cannot hope to harm me. Come into my lair, and bring the slayer with you. This will be a lesson she will not soon forget."

"Very well," the Master said, grabbing Buffy's chains. "Your invitation is accepted."

Ms Calender watched him warily, then smiled. "Clever, but it won't work. All lesser powers are suppressed in this place."

The basement door slammed closed, shutting the other vampires out.

Growling, the Master leapt at her, knocking her to the floor, then ripped open her stomach with his bare hands.

"I win," he gloated. "I am the Master . I cannot be defeated."

Xander half-smiled. With that attitude, there was no way the Master could win. Any other time, that would have been great news.

Ms Calender whispered a single word.

The Master's arms exploded, showering the room in dust.

Shock plain on his face, he backed hastily away.

His legs vanished.

Ignoring his panicked scream, Ms Calender stood back up, her stomach fast healing, then looked at Buffy. "Come here, girl."

"No," Buffy said firmly.

Ms Calender laughed. "You have seen what powered My Lord Moloch has granted me. Do you really believe you have any choice?"

"She can force you to obey," Giles said. "She can't make you choose to obey."

After a moment, Xander smiled. Giles was right. If Buffy gave in once, it would be harder for her to resist the next time.

"Actually," Ms Calender said, "Moloch has taught me spells that would leave her begging to be my slave, but that would be no fun. No, I will give her long hours to dwell on the fate that awaits her, time enough for creeping terror to drown her spirit. In the end, she will beg me to make it quick, and I shall deny her. Come girl, and learn the meaning of despair."

"No," Buffy said again.

Ms Calender smiled. "Do you want to join those vampires in pain?"

Buffy looked down at them, still whimpering, then back at Ms Calender. "You're bluffing."

"You're smarter than you look, girl."

"Cheap shots," Buffy said. "That all you've got?"

"Let me think," Mrs Calender said. "No."

With a flick of her finger, she yanked Buffy's feet from underneath her, then slowly pulled her down the stairs, Buffy's head banging on every step.

"Telekinesis," Giles said quietly. "Not a difficult spell, provided you stick to one target. Controlling several at once is much harder."

Xander glared at him. It was difficult for Giles to speak, chained up like he was, so he must have some ulterior motive, but if expected Xander to find some double meaning in his words, he really needed to aim lower.

Mrs Calender kicked the Master aside, then slid Buffy across the floor, parking her underneath Fritz. "See what I have planned for you?"

"The demon's going to sit on me?" Buffy guessed. "And who are you anyway?"

Mrs Calender laughed. "Don't you recognise your friends?"

"You look like Willow," Buffy said, "and you sound like her, but—"

"It was Mrs Calender," Giles explained. "Now it is a puppet of an herald of abomination."

"I am not my Lord Moloch's puppet. I am his handmaiden."

"OK," Buffy said slowly. "How that working out for you?"

"Why don't you ask Fritz?"

"He here too?" Buffy said, looking round. "Where?"

"Above you," Giles said.

"What?" Buffy gasped. "That's Fritz?"

"It is," Xander confirmed. "Um, was."

There wasn't much left of Fritz now. The spell had slowly warped him, until now he looked part alligator, part spider, twelve feet of scaled muscle, supported by a dozen chitinous legs. Only his head remained human, still locked in a silent scream.

Xander shifted uneasily. There was something vaguely familiar about Fritz's new shape, something tickling buried memories. If he could just place it—

—it wouldn't help. Mrs Calender was the real danger, or rather the herald riding her was; Fritz was just a pawn in its scheme.

"He though he could become a god," Mrs Calender said, "but he is more useful this way."

"For what?" Buffy asked disbelievingly.

"For having children, of course," Mrs Calender said, stroking Fritz's flank. "They will be adorable, as will you be, when I have my way with you."

"Don't worry," Giles said. "Xander has a plan."

Surprised, Xander blinked. He did have a vague plan, the best he could manage while struggling to think past the pain of torture, but he hadn't told Giles about it, and why was Giles telling Mrs Calender anyway?

"Really?" she said, picking up a blowtorch. "We can correct that. Xander, which bits should I burn off? Feet or—"

"Feet," Xander shouted as she pointed the blowtorch at his groin. "Definitely feet."

"You sure?" she asked, groping him."You've not used this much. Well, not in company, anyway."

Much? He hadn't done it at all, though there had been that night with the witch. Had she-

Xander shook his head, trying to focus. "I need it."

"For what," Mrs Calender asked, sounding innocently curious. "Explain, in detail, and I might be lenient."

Xander stared at her disbelievingly. Did she really think he'd talk about that, with Buffy listening?

"Come on," Mrs Calender said. "Tell us exactly what you've been dreaming of doing to Buffy."

"As if any man can control his dreams," Giles said scornfully. "Talking will amuse the herald, but that is all it will do."

Xander hesitated, thinking quickly, then looked down at the table he was tied to. He couldn't see much of it, but what he could see looked pretty battered: cracks by his head, where she'd slammed the hammer down to intimidate him, gouges where the knives had slipped in her blood-slick hands, even a few char marks.

He couldn't see how she'd tied his arms up, but from the feel of it, she'd probably used metal wires like the ones he could see wrapped round his ankles, fastening them securely to each other, and the table.

Good, his plan should work. It would hurt, a lot, but Mrs Calender did want him to try escaping and, as Giles had just said, talking wouldn't get them anywhere.

Xander stared straight at Mrs Calender. "No."

She shrugged. "If that is where your priorities lie, let your feet burn."

"Go ahead," Xander said, bracing himself against the pain.

Whistling tunelessly, she squeezed the trigger.

Xander grimaced as the white hot flame played over his bare feet, his hands clenched tight as he struggled not to scream.

A few minutes later, Mrs Calender smiled admiringly at the blackened ruin of Xander's feet, then reached down and snapped off a toe.

Xander glared at her, waiting for his chance. Just a few moments more, and he could strike.

Smirking, she slowly dragged the toe across his bare skin, from the hollow of his neck, over his chest, past his navel, and then her hand disappeared inside the tattered remnants of his boxers.

Another time, he would have been flattered, but not with the sweet stench of his own roasted flesh filling the room. Xander sank deeper into the meditative trance Giles had taught him, his eyes focused on his feet.

They were healing now, thanks to Mrs Calender's dark magic, the black char flaking away to reveal pink skin, ready for the next round of torture.

"Perhaps I need to aim a little higher," she said, switching the blowtorch back on. "Your ankles should have recovered by now."

Xander twitched involuntarily, remembering the hammer blows.

Giggling, she played the torch across his ankles, first one, then the other.

Xander kicked upwards, easily snapping the heat-softened metal wires, then slammed his feet back down, bending at the knees.

The table cracked.

Giles nodded approvingly as Mrs Calender stepped backwards, but Xander lifted his feet for another go. He couldn't get far with an entire table strapped to his back, but he wouldn't have to, not with the table so badly weakened from his torture.

"You think you can escape me?" Mrs Calender asked calmly, her eyebrows raised.

Xander struck down, his feet smashing through the battered plywood.

"No," he said firmly, as the table collapsed underneath him.

"What?" Mrs Calender gasped, echoed by Buffy.

Xander slowly sat up, then shuffled away from the wreckage, across the magic circles. "I will not abandon Buffy, or Giles."

"Not even for a moment?" Mrs Calender asked. "There is a phone upstairs."

"But you've cut the line," Xander guessed. The whole house would be full of magical booby-traps too, so she could have fun tormenting him with false hopes, but he couldn't let her knew he knew that.

"Come!" the Master shouted. "By right of blood I command you, come!"

As Mrs Calender turned to face him, Xander brought his hands down in front of him, and with them, the upper half of the table, fastened only to his wrists.

"You too," she said. "How tiresome."

His shoulder straining, Xander passed the remnant of the table under his feet, then jerked upwards, once, twice—

The basement door burst open, skinless vampires spilling in.

"Kill the herald," they chanted in eerie unison. "Kill her. Kill her."

With a loud crack, the table split.

Xander smiled. His hands were still fastened together with wire, and they still had big chunks of wood strapped to them, but he had enough mobility now for the next stage: drawing a pentagram in his own blood, and hoping.

Using magic he didn't understand would be dangerous — that book Cordelia had found had made it very clear that people who experimented like that usually died screaming, those who still had mouths — but if he did nothing he'd be tortured to death anyway, and he couldn't hit Ms Calender when she was wearing Willow's face.

Anyway, Giles kept using pentagrams, so they couldn't be too dangerous, and if it did turn everyone in the basement into giant zombie frogs, that would still be better than the alternative.

"I have already routed you once," Mrs Calender said, glancing scornfully at the vampires slowly closing in. "This time, your suffering shall be worse."

"We are the hand of the Master," the vampires chanted, pulling her down. "We know not fear."

Xander frowned. That wasn't how vampires normally acted. It must be part of the increased power the Master was getting from the death gate, which would make him harder to kill, despite his arrogance.

"Puppets?" Giles said tentatively, then shook his head. After a moment, he winced, blood leaking from his mouth.

"Liberat nos!" he shouted, and the wires binding Xander's wrists unfastened themselves.

"Couldn't you have done that earlier?" Buffy muttered, as the chains around her fell away. "Um, why are you bleeding?"

Xander reached for one of the table fragments, then hesitated. With Buffy free, he wouldn't need to try messing with magic.

"I needed blood to power the spell,,"Giles said, his manacles snapping open, then looked at Xander. "And I couldn't have done anything without you. The herald was suppressing all other magic, but your escape disrupted that, and-—"

Ms Calender tossed the vampires aside, black lightening crackling over her hands.

"—and the Master seized that opportunity to distract her," Giles explained, as Buffy helped him down from the wall.

Xander smiled. That meant he was the one who'd freed everyone. Buffy should be really impressed by that. He should do more though, if he could think of something that wouldn't get him killed fast.

"I will do more than distract her," the Master snarled. "For the indignities I have suffered, I shall have vengeance ten-fold."

"How?" Mrs Calender asked calmly. "Your minions are pathetic."

"They are become extensions of my will," the Master said as his vampires stood back up. "They shall not falter while I remain, nor shall they fall. They shall take you prisoner, against the day the Old Ones return, and on that day—"

Ms Calender stepped sideways, jabbing her elbow backwards, but Buffy dodged,smoothly tripping her.

"A slayer and a vampire, cooperating?" Ms Calender said, gripping Buffy's left ankle in her lightning-wreathed hands.

Buffy's jaw dropped open, an idiotic smile growing on her face, but then the vampires ripped Ms Calender away, tossing her into Fritz.

"What was that?" Buffy asked, her voice still trembling in shock as she gingerly patted her seared ankle.

"Moloch's gift, fool," Ms Calender said, wiping the blood from her mouth, then traced a single rune on the floor.

Fritz collapsed, his tail thrashing wildly.

"Now what?" Buffy asked, jumping out of the way.

Giles glanced at the rune. "She's speeded up his transformation. Kill him fast. I'll take care of her."

"You?" Ms Calender said scornfully. "The watcher who hides behind his books?"

"With what?" Buffy muttered, looking uncertainly at the bloodstained tools, then abruptly smiled and picked up a length of broken chain.

"I have looked great Azrael in the eye, and walked away," Giles said simply. "Can you say as much?"

Buffy ran towards Fritz, the chain whirling in her hands.

The Master laughed. "I," he said proudly, "walked away from the Scholomance of Chernobog. Go, help your slayer. This child of abomination shall learn to fear my name. In pain and terror she shall curse it, all the days of her life."

As the Master spoke, his vampires gathered round him.

"You want to be cursed," Mrs Calender asked. "As my forbears cursed your favourite, so I shall curse you, but not with any mere human soul. To you I shall bind a servant of Lord Moloch, and make you an helpless witness to its dark pleasures."

Ignoring her, Giles and the Master both began to chant, Latin mingling with another language, more guttural.

"Pathetic," Ms Calender muttered, then cupped her hands in front of her and sang, unrecognisable words set to a vaguely familiar tune.

Xander frowned thoughtfully. Ms Calender hadn't named Angel. Why not? She wasn't trying to protect his secret, so she must have some ulterior motive, which meant she was still confident enough to play games.

Buffy lashed out with the chain, ripping open a gash in Fritz's left flank, dripping blue blood, but before the first drops hit the ground the gash had healed.

He turned to face her, revealing a fast-swelling bulge on the far side of his neck.

In Ms Calender's cupped hands, the shadows deepened.

Buffy lashed out again, smashing Fritz's front left kneecap, then dodged as he reared up, his feet kicking wildly, but his kneecap had already healed.

She stepped back, looking thoughtfully at Fritz, a second head forming from the bulge on his neck. "Giles!"

He spoke three more words, then sighed and pulled a pen out of his pocket. "Remember the plan," he said, tossing it to her, "and don't forget rule five. Start with the head, and don't forget the clock."

Buffy scowled as she caught the pen and started to reply, but then Fritz kicked out at her, and she turned back to the fight.

"Kill him fast," Xander added, smiling. "Willow's waiting for us."

Buffy stabbed Fritz in his throat with the pen, driving it deep into his neck, then somersaulted onto his head.

Xander scooped up a table fragment and raked his fingers across the jagged ends, drawing blood.

Ms Calender turned to face him, her eyes widening in surprise,

Xander began to draw, keeping the lines as straight as he could manage, always moving clockwise, the way Giles kept doing.

After a few seconds, he scowled as realisation dawned. Giles hadn't really been talking to Buffy; he'd been telling Xander to draw a five pointed star, clockwise, obvious enough in retrospect but uselessly cryptic as advice.

Ms Calender started to sing faster, her feet tracing a circle on the ground.

Second line drawn, and Giles pointed at her. "Segenarith."

The half-formed spell in her hands rippled, shadowy tentacles reaching out, then imploded.

As she staggered back, the vampires threw themselves on top of the Master.

Xander finished the fourth line, then started on the fifth.

"Get down, now!" Giles shouted, diving under a workbench.

Buffy jumped off Fritz, landing next to Giles.

Xander completed the pentagram.

From the blood-drawn lines, five curtains of shimmering red light sprang up, surrounding him.

Outside the pentagram, Ms Calender's magic circles rippled, paint impossibly moving across the concrete.

"Fool!" Ms Calender shouted as the circles twisted into new patterns. "You've destabilized- "

"Oh, do shut up," Giles said wearily. "Well done, Xander."

He smiled back, warily eyeing the floor. Sickly lights were dancing along the writhing paths that had once been paint, and the air above was rippling.

"If we survive," the Master said approvingly, "I will order you killed, but only after the abomination as been defeated, of course."

Half seen shapes shimmered round Ms Calender,

"We will all die!" she screamed.

Giles shrugged. "A better death than you would have granted us, but we will not die."

Fireballs erupted from the floor, bouncing off the walls.

Xander tensed, looking for a safer spot, but Giles looked at him.

"No," he shouted, as shadowy tentacles lashed the air. "You're safe there."

Ms Calender stood in the centre of the room, lightning crackling around her, and she smiled.

A fireball struck her left shoulder, and her smile broadened. Lips quivering in unholy delight, she brushed the charred flesh off her blackened bones, then began to fondle herself.

Gagging, Xander quickly looked away.

"The abomination's work," Giles said sadly, covering Buffy's eyes.

Fritz roared.

Startled, Xander looked at the demon slowly lurching across the room, fireballs splashing harmlessly against its scales. That sound hadn't come from its human head, the last remnant of Fritz; it had come from its new head, the head of a giant fly, and he had a third head too now, a leering girl.

The demon loomed over Ms Calender, its mandibles brushing her hair.

She looked up, horror dawning on her face.

The demon ripped her head off.

Still standing, the corpse lit up, its skin shimmering in nameless colours.

"Eyes!" Giles warned, but Xander had already turned his back on the grisly scene, his head buried in his hands.

Behind him, something exploded, a silent blast that sent him skidding across the floor.

Xander rubbed his eyes, clearing away the spots, then turned to examine the damage, and groaned.

Ms Calender and Fritz had both vanished, but so had all trace of her magic circles, and the pentagram he had drawn. There were new runes painted on the floor now, in the colours of rot and decay, some of them glowing with sickly light.

"Aklo," the Master said. "Can you read it, watcher?"

"A little," Giles said, frowning thoughtfully. "Two layers of spells? One of them hidden from us, and presumably Ms Calender? Just preventing destructive interference would be—"

"Giles, why are you talking to him?" Buffy asked, scowling at the Master.

"We can't kill him at the moment," Giles said patiently. "He's not really here, but apparently he was at Magdeburg."

"I was," the Master confirmed, his surviving minions hoisting him onto their shoulder. "I know what we face."

"There is no we," Xander said flatly. "You're no better than the abomination."

"Insolent child," the Master spat. "There are lines I will not cross."

"Perhaps," Giles said. "Tell them what happened to you in Magdeburg."

"You know?" the Master said, sounding surprised.

"You were there, and you were not tainted. There is only one possible explanation."

"I was trapped in that city for three weeks, before the watchers came," the Master said slowly. "Three weeks at the mercy of the herald. It was … terrible."

"So it's personal?" Xander said. "That doesn't change anything."

"It means we can trust him to honour a truce. There are precedents."

"That's—" Xander began.

"Churchill once said that if Hitler invaded hell, he would speak favourably of the devil."

"But—" Buffy objected.

"The Master is evil," Giles said firmly. "He must die, but the Herald is a greater evil. Fighting the Master while the Herald is loose would be like … putting a sticking plaster on a paper cut when you've been disembowelled. As long as he doesn't attack us, we should concentrate on the Herald."

"I will not take advantage of your distraction," the Master said. "On that you have my word, as a member of the Order of Aurelius. Humans are mere vermin, infesting the rightful home of the Old Ones, but the abomination beyond the wall is their rival. Defeating its plots must take precedence."

Then the Master smiled. "If you ask nicely, I might even share my hard-won knowledge with you."

"The council interrogated all the survivors of Magdeburg—"

"—then faked a cover story," the Master said. "Such a shame it took you so long—"

"It was the middle of the Thirty Year's War," Giles said hotly.

Xander smiled. At least Giles and the Master weren't going to get all friendly. If all they did was ignore each other while dealing with bigger problems, well, they'd never gone hunting the Master anyway. They had their hands full with witches and death gates.

Xander still didn't like the idea — the Master belonged dead — but it did make a kind of sense.

"Excuses," the Master said. "You may know what happened there; but I know more. I spent a decade studying the horror I escaped. Why do you think I learned Aklo?"

"The libraries of the council—" Giles began, then hesitated. "The Scholomance, was that before or after?"

"I burnt my invitation, and walked away," the Master said. "Only a fool would have accepted."

"Then you have nothing to offer," Giles said, looking relieved.

"How good is your Aklo?"

"Good enough that I need not compromise myself."

"Shall we test that?" the Master asked. "What happened to the Lillisian succubus hive queen?"

His memory jolted, Xander twitched. He had seen the transformed Fritz before, looking very out of place in a book on succubi. It had taken him half an hour struggling with the Latin dictionary to get an explanation.

"Fritz?" Giles said, pointing at the floor where he had disappeared. "Teleported to the nearest suitable spot outside the hellmouth's aura."

"That was a succubus?" Buffy said disbelievingly.

"I'll explain later," Giles said, then looked at the Master. "I don't suppose you'd trust me to give you a full translation?"

"No more than you would me," the Master said. "We both need to study them, but I will graciously let you go first."

"That borrowed body getting uncomfortable, is it?" Giles said cynically.

The Master scowled, then disappeared in a puff of dust, his abandoned minions collapsing.

"It was only his spirit holding that body together," Giles explained, then looked at Buffy. "Go and get Xander some spare clothes. I'll translate what I can of this spell."

As Buffy looked at him, Xander reflexively tried to cover himself, realising just how naked he was.

Blushing, she ran out of the room.

"Xander," Giles said gently, "do you understand why I told the herald you had an escape plan?"

Xander thought a moment. He'd been surprised when Giles had done that, but the moment he had, Ms Calender had given him a chance to escape.

"She wanted me to try escaping, so she could crush my hopes," Xander said, beginning with what he was certain of. "That's why she gave me time to think of a plan, but, um, I couldn't let her know I had one, or she'd get suspicious … which is why you told her instead?"

"Perceptive."

"I've spent too much time round Cordy," Xander said, smiling ruefully.

"What tangled webs we weave," Giles quoted. "Um, if you need to talk to anyone about … this, I do have some training."

Xander shrugged. "I've had worse days," and it wasn't the kind of thing he'd feel comfortable talking to Giles about.

"The advantages of growing up on an hellmouth," Giles said, smiling sadly. "You did well. You could have drawn the pentagram sooner, but—"

"I didn't know if it was safe," Xander explained.

"You didn't need my hint," Giles said, his voice tinged with surprise. "As long as you draw it clockwise, one point upwards, a pentagram is always safe."

"I got your hint," Xander said, "halfway through. Next time, make it easier."

"Something to work on," Giles said, smiling, then knelt down, tracing the runes. "Hmm, fascinating."

"What happened?" Willow said, half standing as Xander followed Giles into the library.

"Long story," Buffy said, putting Fritz's computer down on the counter. "Don't ask."

Willow took two steps towards Xander, paused, looking uncertain, then started pulling out chairs for people to sit on.

"Those aren't your clothes," Cordelia said, eyeing Xander. "The size, the style — a man in his late thirties. Dave's dad?"

"Fritz's" Xander said. "The herald caught us. We escaped."

Then he smiled reassuringly at Willow. "Just another fun day on the hell mouth."

"How did you lose your clothes?" Cordelia asked suspiciously. "Did the herald try seducing you?"

Willow froze, fear plain on her face.

"Cordy!" Xander said sharply.

Dave half-smiled, muttering under his breath.

"What?" Cordelia protested. "We know it's been using succubi, and it's into—"

"Some things should remain private," Giles said firmly, picking up the pile of papers in front of Willow, "but the answer is no. This the summary description I asked for? It looks … comprehensive."

Cordelia glanced sideways at Willow, then shrugged apologetically at Xander.

"Dave helped," Willow said automatically, her voice thick with worry. "What did happen?"

"I kept it short and simple," Cordelia said brightly, glaring at Willow. "Giles does not need to know the plot of some silly story. Mr Slippery, sounds like a talking snake."

Xander sighed. Cordelia meant well, but that was not a good way to distract Willow.

"True Names isn't silly," Willow said. "It's a great story, which shows how cyberspace metaphorically works just like magic, and you're trying to change the subject, aren't you? Tell me what happened. Not telling will just make me more worried."

Xander looked at Willow, worry and determination mingling on her face, then forced himself to smile. "Ms Calendar was having too much fun with her twisted mind games to actually do anything."

Willow nodded, accepting the lie. "And she stripped you to establish psychological dominance?"

"She did," Giles confirmed, looking meaningfully at Buffy. "But that wasn't the herald's real plot.

"She turned Fritz into a giant demon," Buffy said. "Giles, why did the Master say it was—"

"The Master?" Cordelia interrupted. "Is he working with the herald?"

"No," Xander said. "He's got some grudge against it. He offered to help us."

Cordelia stared. "Tell us the whole story, from the beginning."

"When we got to Dave's house," Xander began, while Giles started skimming through Willow's notes.

"And then we came back here," Xander finished, five minutes and several interruptions later.

"An accurate summary," Giles said, putting Willow's notes down, "apart from one thing. That trap wasn't intended for us. It was intended for Dave, or so Jenny and Fritz thought. The hidden spell required nine moments of utter despair, six acts of treachery, and three deaths."

"They were all supposed to die. But—" Willow began.

"The herald is the real enemy," Cordelia said, overriding Willow. "It thinks all its puppets are expendable."

"But I went off script?" Dave said, smiling faintly.

Giles nodded. "It hadn't accounted for the protections on this library. I'm not entirely sure what its original plan was, but everything it did after we arrived was desperate improvisation. If everything had gone according to plan, all the runes would have lit up."

"Let me guess," Xander said, smiling. "The world would have ended."

"Nothing so merciful."

"What did the spell actually do?" Buffy said, shifting impatiently. "Can we stop it?"

"It definitely teleported the demon, and I'm pretty sure it has created a psychic miasma, which will strengthen any other spells it attempts in this town over the next few days."

"You didn't translate it all?" Willow said, looking disappointed.

"Staying any longer in that room would not have been healthy," Giles replied, then looked at Buffy. "You did well with the Master. Without his intervention, we would have died escaping, and our deaths would have ripped the death gate wide open."

"Lucky us," Buffy said sarcastically. "What about Fritz?"

"Wherever he, um she is, she's going to start spreading her eggs through the water supply. Modern water treatment should kill them…." Giles trailed off, thinking.

"Giles," Cordelia said sharply. "We're not watchers. Why do her eggs matter?"

"If you swallow one, there's a one in twenty chance when it hatches that it'll eat your brain and take over your body, transforming it into a full succubus, or incubus. The rest of the time, the parasite encysts itself. There are no visible symptoms of infection, but the victims' … carnal activities still fuel the hive's magic, and it can look through their eyes."

"So we kill the queen." Buffy said.

"No, do that and one of the parasites will metamorphose into a new queen. We have to kill the rest of the hive first, and quickly. It is not work for a slayer."

But most of the rest of the hive were still —

Xander shuddered, realising what Giles meant. If there wasn't any magic cure for the parasites, and it didn't sound like there was, the watchers would need to kill everyone they thought was infected, but with no easy way to detect the parasites, innocent people might die. There was no way they could ask Buffy to do that.

"Why not?" Buffy asked.

"Can you kill the parasites without killing the hosts?" Willow asked uncertainly. "If you can't then you'd have to—"

"That's the problem," Giles said quickly, looking at Buffy, "but it's not our problem. We can't leave the hellmouth to go chasing demons. I'll — of course! Lakes. If Fritz contaminates a lake where people swim, she can bypass the water treatment works."

"And he's smart," Dave said.

"I hope not," Giles said. "If his mind survived, it's trapped in the body of a mindless beast. Lillisian succubi are smart enough, and the collective intelligence of their hive mind is considerable, but the queens are just egg-laying machines. The spell selected the lair, not Fritz. I'll—"

In Giles's office, the phone rang.

"—inform my contacts," he said, standing up.

Willow scowled as Giles went into his office. "There has to be a better way."

"Most people ignore 'No Swimming' signs," Cordelia said, then paused as the office door opened. "Now what?"

"Bad news. That was our friend in yellow."

Xander half-smiled. He hadn't noticed anything, but Cordelia had had a lot more practice reading Giles.

"Who?" Buffy asked.

"Remember the first night with Dame Margo? The demon in the graveyard?"

Dave leaned forward, looking attentive.

"And the man who killed a baby, right in front of us," Buffy finished. "He working for the abomination now?"

"Against it."

Xander looked sharply at Giles. "It really knows how to make enemies and infuriate people, doesn't it?"

"They're evil," Cordelia said, with exaggerated patience. "Of course they're going to stab each other in the back. That's what evil does."

"Unfortunately," Giles said, "it seems the herald planned for that."

"It would," Buffy said sourly. "How?"

"Our friend in yellow—"

"Doesn't he have a name?" Cordelia asked, "and his robes were mustard."

"He wouldn't give one," Giles said. "Mustard told me the abomination is planning another apocalyptic ritual, this time using the employees at Calax. I have to investigate, but while we're doing that, it can set up more threats, keeping us too busy to stop its real plan."

"Everything we just went through was a diversion?" Xander said slowly. Everything he'd been through had just been a way of buying the herald in Moloch a few extra hours?

"No," Giles said quickly. "We saved the world today."

"We did?" Xander said, then smiled. "How many times is that now?"

Dave glanced at Xander, his eyebrows raised.

"Five?" Willow nodded thoughtfully. "You cut one head off the hydra. Now you have to burn the stump."

"How?" Cordelia sat simply.

"The herald is apparently planning to summon and bind Xochiquetzal, an Aztec fertility goddess, at sunset. There are four of us uninfected by the herald, so we'll split into two pairs."

"Giles," Willow said tentatively. "The net is global. What if—"

"It's being sadistic," Cordelia said. "Only using one plot at a time, so we think we've got a chance, but that's self-defeating."

"It's too smart to be that stupid," Willow said. "I think. Um, what if the herald is expendable because the abomination is planning something bigger."

Giles sighed. "Willow, we hardly need to go looking for trouble."

"It comes looking for us," Xander added. "Isn't the hell mouth wonderful?"

Cordelia looked at Giles. "What pairs?"

"I will accompany Buffy—"

"You—" Cordelia began, looking disbelieving.

"I am the only one of us who would not be a liability in combat," Giles said, "and exorcism is not difficult, nor does Willow's explanation of cyberspace suggest any complications, Xander has already done it once before, and you've both have the necessary moral standing, Willow, Dave; you'll both have to stay in the office."

Dave shrugged. "There's nothing I could do even if I weren't infected, not like you. Just listening to you … you all take so much for granted but, saving the world five times? I want to help, but …."

"You have helped," Buffy said as Dave trailed off. "Without you, we wouldn't know about this herald yet."

Then she turned to face Giles. "What do we do?"

"—Fit enough" Xander said, picking the phone up.

"They're definitely attempting a divine summoning," Giles said. "You remember the plan?"

"Yes. We've got everything ready. How long?"

"Shouldn't take more than twenty minutes. Be careful with Moloch."

"OK," Xander said, then smiled. "Don't forget the pizzas on the way back."

"Pizzas?"

"For the victory party."

"That's the spirit," Giles said, his voice tinged with amusement. "Um, how do I turn this thing off?".

Xander listened a moment as Giles struggled with the cell phone, then turned to face the others. "OK, we've got fifteen minutes."

"You remember everything?" Willow asked nervously.

"Keep Moloch talking," Cordelia said, unplugging the phone.

Xander nodded. The actual exorcism would only take a couple of minutes, but letting Moloch rant first would make it much easier.

"And you're sure it's OK to lock us both in the same room?" Dave asked, for the fourth time. "You won't be able to hear any screams. Giles said the soundproofing spell works both ways."

"Yes," Cordelia said sharply. "Giles told you: the herald might have planted time bombs in your minds, but it can't have anticipated anything like this. As long as it can't phone you with new instruction—"

"I still think you should tie us up," Dave insisted.

"He wants to be tied up by an attractive woman," Xander said, smiling at Cordelia. "Sounds like a classic case of abominable heralditis."

"It's not like that," Dave protested, blushing.

"Then shut up," Cordelia said, scooping up the phone.

Xander watched appreciatively as she stalked out of the office, then looked at Willow. "You'll be OK?"

She nodded. "Go."

"Xander!" Cordelia shouted.

He hurried out into the main library, closing the door behind him.

Cordelia locked it, then leaned against the wall. "Did you hear what Giles didn't say?"

Xander stared at her, confused.

"You've got to learn to read between the lines. He was reminding us about the oath, which he's said before will help us do good magic. We can't—"

"Don't jinx us," Xander said quickly. "Let's get started."

Cordelia took a deep breath, the strode confidently over to Fritz's computer. "OK. Step one, get Moloch's attention."

"Come, Moloch, we command you," Xander typed, two minutes later.

"In the name of the innocent, we summon you," Cordelia said, lighting the last candle, "to face justice. Come!"

Xander pressed the enter key.

"Fools," Moloch sneered, appearing on the computer screen, wrapped in chains. "Look upon me, and learn the magnitude of your folly."

"Doesn't look much like his picture, does he?" Xander said lightly, hoping Moloch wouldn't notice his surprise. Giles had been very clear about not showing any weaknesses.

Moloch did look a lot worse than the pictures had shown though, his face dotted with open sores, his nose a mangled wreck, maggots writhing in the festering ruin of his left eye.

"Bad day?" Cordelia suggested, seemingly unruffled.

"Terrible beyond your puny comprehension," Moloch said. "I have been chained by an herald of abomination, subjected to tortures almost beyond endurance."

"Been there, done that," Xander said, glancing at the chains, then winced.

The chains were covered in a myriad barbs, constantly ripping at Moloch's flesh as they moved, and each link was carved in the shape of a naked woman, her body contorted into a circle, a tentacled beast mounted on her back, its tentacles penetrating-

Xander blinked. He shouldn't be able to see so much detail, not on a computer screen, but he could. He could see the beasts shrieking as they gouged Moloch's flesh with their barbed horns, and the tortured expressions of the women, caught between agony and ecstasy. He could even see the maggot-ridden ulcers festering on the beasts' flanks, and make out individual drops of blood on the women's skin, each with a screaming male figure trapped within, struggling in vain as-

"Xander," Cordelia said sharply, tapping his shoulder. "Look at me."

He looked at her, her face still pale with horror, and forced a smile. "We've seen worse, Moloch. You won't frighten—"

"Fool!" Moloch shouted. "Do you think I would so chain myself?"

Cordelia shrugged. "Not when you just said the herald did it, but they're only symbolic You can't frighten us with—"

"They are symbolic," Moloch said, "and yet they are real, as are all things in this place. These chains are forged from countless souls, locked in an infinite regress of suffering, They are the work of the abomination beyond the wall."

"We guessed," Xander said, carefully focusing on Moloch's remaining eye, so the magic couldn't suck him in. "The kinkiness was a big clue."

"But you're trying to use them against us," Cordelia added. "You're trying to frighten us. It won't work."

"Next he'll say it was just a test, and offer to help us against the abomination," Xander guessed. "Everything else has."

"Would that I could," Moloch said, rattling his chains. "Would that I could, but that is a forlorn hope. I am caught in the abomination's web, thanks to your machinations, Cordelia Chase. By your actions it was freed. When you look upon its handiworks, remember that."

"I had nothing to do with it," Cordelia said firmly. "You lie."

Moloch laughed. "How little you know. Your teacher probed the future with her home-made cards, and saw what she would become, but she only succumbed because the abomination reached out of that future to taint her."

Xander frowned. "That's a paradox."

"So it seems, for we who are bound by time," Moloch said, "but the ultimate enemy dwells beyond time. For it, and its true minions, causal loops are a triviality."

"Still nothing to do with me," Cordelia said.

"Do you not see? By crossing time, you threw the future into flux and shook the universe to its foundations, weakening all barriers. You, Cordelia Chase, cracked the wall behind which the abomination lurks, only an hairline fracture, fast healing, but that was enough to doom us all."

"He's lying," Xander said quickly. "Don't listen to him."

"No," Cordelia said, looking pensive. "We can't assume that. What if he tells us something true, just so he can laugh at us for not believing him?"

"Don't give him ideas, Cordy," Xander said, glancing surreptitiously at the clock, still ten minutes to the deadline.

They wouldn't wait that long, of course. Waiting a few minutes before the exorcism gave Moloch a chance to rant, which Giles had said would help, but they didn't need to wait the full ten. When the time was right, they would strike.

"I hardly need lessons in guile from a mere human," Moloch said contemptuously,

"Really?" Cordelia said, smiling. "If it was me, why did it take so long. You said the crack was healing."

Then she looked at Xander. "If he tries tricking us, we pick holes in his stories. It won't be hard."

Xander smiled at her direct appeal to pride. Giles had warned them that was Moloch's greatest weakness, and theirs. If they got overconfident, Moloch would twist them round its little finger, but if Moloch did, he would start making mistakes.

Unfortunately, the herald riding Moloch complicated everything. Giles had tried explaining what that meant for their strategy, but Xander had been lost after five words. Cordelia had seemed to understand though, so as long as he followed her lead everything should be fine.

"You arrival alone was not enough," Moloch said grudgingly, "but it was the indirect cause of the deathgate opening. The additional damage that caused, combined with the steady increase in the power of the hellmouth, were just barely enough to give the abomination its opportunity, an opportunity it would not have had, were it not for you."

"So what?" Cordelia said, looking at her nails. "Even if that's true—"

"So what?" Moloch shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. "A trillion trillion souls shall perish in the storm you have engendered, and—"

"There aren't that many people in the world," Xander pointed out.

"Precisely," Moloch said, "but I see you do not grasp the scale of the war in which we are enmeshed."

"The abomination won't stop with Earth?" Cordelia guessed.

"It will not stop with the Earth you know," Moloch said. "The abomination is not as us, nor even as its herald. When the world divides, we divide, each of our alternate selves taking a different path. The abomination remains one, walking all paths at once. If any should lead to its freedom, it would slowly ravage all the Earth's that might be, every last branch of this tree of histories succumbing to its blight."

"You mean else-worlds," Xander said, "like in the comics?"

"A pale shadow," Moloch said, "but it will serve. Now do you see the depths of your folly? The abomination's plans span all the worlds that might be, and you think it cares whether one of its facets is freed to walk a doomed world? You chase shadow puppets while its true plot unfolds. "

"You're trying to make us feel insignificant, aren't you," Cordelia said, smiling. "It won't work."

Xander nodded. Cordelia had too much pride for that to work, and he was used to it. Willow was so much smarter than him, Buffy so much stronger, even Cordelia had her foreknowledge, but he didn't let that get him down. What little he could do might not seem significant, but it still mattered.

Moloch laughed. "Trying? I have not yet begun. Mighty though the abomination and its peers are, their power feared even by gods, in the great war they are no more than bullets, fired between realities. Thirteen have pierced this cosmos, thirteen viruses brewed in the court of oblivion to subvert—"

"Nonsense," Cordelia said. "Bullets don't have names. The abomination does."

"Such ignorance," Moloch sneered. "That is not a personal name. It is a class of ammunition, no, not even that. It is no more than the name of a role that particular type of virus can play. The legions of the whisperers in darkness are beyond counting, literally, and every single one of them could play the part of the abomination, turning life's yearning to multiply against itself.

"That's why it's so into depravity?" Cordelia said, looking honestly surprised. "Irony?"

Moloch nodded. "There is a dark elegance to it, once the abomination's true purpose is understood. Like all whisperers, it desires only to negate all that could be. The thirteen differ only in their angle of approach, nothing more."

Xander glanced at the clock, then smiled. "Am I supposed to be impressed. I don't understand—"

"Then listen, fool," Moloch snapped, "and I will speak so plainly even you can comprehend. If the abomination succeeds, nothing will ever have existed in this universe, not even the abomination itself. Nor will there be any chance anything could ever have existed. Only the void shall remain, and Omega shall fill it with its own dark thoughts."

"One question," Cordelia said warily. "How do you know this?You've been half-dead the last thousand years, and before that—"

Have you forgotten, girl? The herald is riding my mind. When it acts through me, I can steal glimpses of its thoughts. Oh, the things I have seen …"

Cordelia looked meaningfully at Xander, who nodded. The herald controlled Moloch as completely as it had Ms Calender. If Moloch had seen into the herald's mind, that was only because it wanted him to, and it might just have faked the memories.

Why the herald would do that, Xander couldn't begin to guess, but it didn't matter. Giles had been very clear: if the herald showed its hand, they'd need to speed the plan up. Hopefully, he could make it sound natural.

"I don't care," Xander said, dismissing the demon's boasts. "It'll all be sick and twisted. Everything about you is. You bring only pain and death."

"I bring love," Moloch said, "my unconditional love."

Xander repressed a sigh. Giles had said it would help if they could get Moloch to start offering them wealth and power, but they'd have to work with what they had.

"You love us, all right," Cordelia said, "the way Harmony loves chocolate ice cream. That's not love, it's—"

"As close as you can get in this tainted world," Moloch said. "There is not one couple you can name who enjoy true love, for here it is but a myth. Do you even know anyone whose marriage could be called happy?"

"Of course," Xander said hotly. "There's, um, there's …."

He fell silent, thinking. His own parents certainly didn't count, Willow's were just going through the motions, Cordelia's dad seemed to be pure slime, but there had to be someone.

"How would we know?" Cordelia said scathingly. "They're not going to tell us about their relationship, are they?"

"But you are perceptive—"

"And if the stories lie, so what?" Cordelia went on, her voice growing bitter. "I stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago. Go looking for true love, and some man will rip out your heart and dance on it, but that doesn't mean we can't find some lasting happiness. There's no Mr Right, but there is Mr Good Enough."

Xander glanced sideways at Cordelia. That sounded like experience talking, but he'd have heard if anything like that had happened to her. The whole school would have, so she must be thinking about the other history, which did fit.

Some boy Cordelia trusted had hurt her or, since this was the hell mouth, some demon she thought was a boy. Yes, that would explain a lot.

A pity he couldn't just ask her outright, rather than playing guessing games, but she wouldn't like that, and now he knew, he wouldn't have to.

Cordelia glared at Moloch. "I thought you were trying to tempt us, not—"

"I am in chains," Moloch said. "I have nothing to offer save my love, but there is one who can offer more."

"Found religion, have you?" Cordelia sneered.

"Love in this world is as you describe it, Cordelia Chase," Moloch said, smiling beatifically. "Have you never wondered why?"

"Because people are people," Cordelia said.

"Because the shadow of the abomination lies upon this reality," Moloch replied. "Even bound, it has wormed its way into the metaphysical foundations of the cosmos, removing all possibility of true love. The best you can hope for is a tarnished facsimile, just another tawdry compromise on the road to oblivion, the best you can hope for, that is, unless you bow before the abomination. Acknowledge its superiority just once, and its taint will be withdrawn from your lives, leaving you free to dwell in eternal bliss with your soul's mate."

"How selfish do you think I am?" Xander blurted out, staring in shock at the demon. Didn't it understand people at all?

Cordelia looked at him, surprise giving way to contemplation.

"You would enjoy the happiness your labours have earned," Moloch said, "the happiness for which men have long yearned."

"How could I be happy when everyone else was suffering?" Xander asked rhetorically.

"You seem to manage well enough now," Moloch said. "Even as we speak, a woman in Chongqing is prostituting herself to feed her children, yet—"

"I didn't know that," Xander protested, "and there's nothing I can do about it, but getting the abomination to leave me alone would be wrong. It needs killing."

"A fool's dream," Moloch said, "but only a fool would let scruples deny them happiness."

"I wouldn't be happy," Xander said simply. He might enjoy himself some of the time, but everything would be shadowed by the knowledge that the abomination was messing up everyone else's life while he did nothing.

"Why not?" Moloch persisted. "You have no hope of freeing this reality from the abomination's stranglehold. Even if you could, the other twelve whisperers would still blight it. Banish them from all the worlds that might be, all the paths this reality could have taken, and still their countless brethren will feast on the suffering of man in the realities beyond, those sundered from us by more than mere history."

"I don't care," Xander said. "I will fight them as long as I can, and I will never surrender."

Cordelia nodded. "We're not for sale, period. You won't trap us into quibbling about the details of your offer."

Xander winced. He'd forgotten about that warning from Giles. If he'd started pointing out the loopholes in Moloch's offer, or saying it wasn't high enough, he would have effectively acknowledged that his soul was for sale, and that would have been suicide.

"Not even true love will tempt you?" Moloch asked, plaintively,

"No," Xander and Cordelia said, almost in unison.

Moloch looked at them both for a long moment, staring deep into their eyes, and then he laughed, heedless of the chains ripping at his flesh.

"Now I understand," he said. "Two soldiers, trapped far behind the battle line, huddle together in a foetid ditch, the enmity of ages set aside in the face of oblivion. Instantiations of greater powers, even in their last hours they are mighty, as gods to the gods. Out of the darkness, they have conjured hope. May they succeed, and teach the abomination despair."

The barbed chains wrapping Moloch tightened abruptly, gouging out chunks of bone as they writhed around him.

Moloch gasped in pain, then silently mouthed, "Free me."

Xander looked at Cordelia, who nodded, then they picked up Giles's notes.

Since they were in the right, all they really needed was determination. Moloch did not belong in the internet, or anywhere else on their world; tell him that firmly enough, and he would have to leave.

They couldn't just say 'Go away' though. To make that work, they'd have needed to be living saints. Instead, they needed to sound as imposing as they could, like a judge passing sentence, so Giles had left a few helpful suggestions, and some bits they could read in unison, for added effect.

"Don't forget: watch my cues, and take turns," Cordelia said softly, then pointed imperiously at the screen."

"Moloch, foul and accursed spawn of the elder days," Xander proclaimed on cue, not quite in sync with Cordelia. "Hear now our judgement."

Moloch yelped as the chains savaged his other eye, then silently mouthed, "Set me free."

"Time and again you have wronged the children of man," Cordelia said, every word clearly pronounced. "From their world, we banish you, now and for all time."

Moloch screamed as the chains yanked at his horns, ripping them out by the roots, then silently mouthed, "End this, please."

"The internet you have profaned," Xander said, pushing his voice deeper. "From it we banish you, from it and all the devices of man."

Moloch howled, his mouth distended inhumanly wide, as the chains surged down his throat, shredding his tongue, and then there was silence.

Xander shuddered. Giles had warned them that exorcism hurt the target, so they might need to harden their hearts against Moloch's screams, but he'd never mentioned anything like this. It must be more of the herald's work, more proof the abomination needed to be destroyed.

He couldn't kill it himself, of course, not unless it was badly overrated, but he would gladly help those who could send the abomination and all its like to the oblivion they worshipped. Some things belonged dead.

"Slave of the abomination beyond the wall, return now to your proper dominion, and go free," Cordelia improvised, her voice ringing with righteous fury, then signalled.

"Demon," Xander said, joining in the last bit. "Be gone!"

Smiling, Moloch vanished, leaving the chains wrapping only empty space.

Writhing furiously, they collapsed in on themselves, sucked into the void at their heart, until only darkness remained.

Xander looked uncertainly at Cordelia. With Moloch banished, the computer was supposed to have returned to normal.

The candles guttered out.

"Something is wrong," Cordelia said, watching the computer warily.

A voice came out of the darkness, a voice such as Xander had heard only once before, whispering in his shadow-spawned nightmares after the morgue. It spoke in a language he did not know, a language whose inhuman sounds filled him with exquisite pain, whose words stirred the darkness to shapes of mind-numbing terror, and yet, the meaning burned in his mind, as certain as death.

"Hear us, worms, and take heed," it said slowly, letting every word echo round the library. "We are the voice of the six-fold lord, That Which Dwells Beyond The Wall."

"The herald," Cordelia whispered, her voice unsteady. "and the Midnight Tongue. It's stronger than Giles thought."

"You have not harmed our lord's designs. All your efforts have been in vain."

"Not strong enough," Xander said, struggling to hide his fear. "We've got an handy guide to exorcisms right here."

There wasn't much chance it would work, but they had to try.

"Yet you have dared oppose us. For that crime alone, you shall be punished."

"It must be clinging to the internet by its fingernails," Cordelia said, her hand brushing against Xander's. "Together, we can beat it."

"Together," Xander echoed, then looked at Giles's notes, seeking inspiration.

"Together, we shall stand against the dark," he said, picking out phrases that sounded good. "Now and always. While we endure, it shall not conquer."

"The curse of our Lord is upon you. To your graves it shall pursue you, and beyond. Hear it now, and know despair."

"This is our world," Cordelia said, talking over the herald, though her faint voice could not obscure its words. "Flee it now, or face our righteous wrath."

"Ever the votaries of our Lord shall be drawn to you, from the least to the greatest. Though you pass beyond the circles of the world, you shall not escape them."

"This is our world," Xander said, following Cordelia's lead. "Flee it now, lest we shall call down the wrath of all creation upon your head."

"In our Lord's shadow you shall spend all your days, in darkness unending, until you crave the peace of oblivion, but it shall be denied you, until you willingly kneel before the silencer of all songs and pledge allegiance to the ultimate power."

"By the oaths I have sworn, this I vow," Cordelia said. "I shall fight against you and yours until the end of days, and step by step, I shall drive you back, until oblivion claims you."

Xander scowled at Giles's notes. There were plenty of grand-sounding phrases left, but they all described Moloch. Only a handful could fit the herald, and Cordelia had just used the last of them. He could copy her for the first half of his next threat, but for the rest, he would have to improvise.

"Upon all the lives you touch, the same curse shall fall, and upon all the lives they touch. Unto the thirteenth generation, Our Lord's wrath shall pursue them."

"By the oaths I have sworn, this I vow," Xander said. "I shall fight against you and yours until the end of days, and I shall not despair. Laughing, I shall drive you back, and your masters shall laugh to see you defeated, but the joke will be on them."

Cordelia nodded approvingly, a faint smile twitching her lips, then mouthed, "Together."

"So Our Lord —" the herald began, its tempo speeding up,

"Herald-," the two said together.

"—has decreed, so shall-

"of abomination—"

"—it be," the herald finished, even as Xander and Cordelia shouted "Begone!"

The darkness screamed, an howl of rage that shook the walls, and the room grew cold.

Xander half-ducked, one hand over his head, as plaster tumbled from the ceiling, then stiffened, feeling wetness seeping from his ears.

Blood? He gently dabbed at his cheek, then grimaced at the crimson smear on his fingers. Definitely blood, and his nose didn't feel right either.

Around the computer, frost condensed in a bone-white circle, steadily growing.

Cordelia scowled at the darkness, blood pouring from her eyes and nose.

"Sore loser," she shouted, her voice inaudible beneath the herald's scream.

Xander winced as the cold air sliced at his throat, blood filling his mouth and seeping from his eyes, then forced a smile.

"Try again," he mouthed, rustling the useless notes, barely legible beneath their mantle of frost.

The herald's scream shifted pitch, and the walls rippled, as if painted in cloth.

Ghostly images filled the air, images of other Xanders and Cordelias, differently dressed but facing down the same darkness, and beyond them, of other libraries in other places.

Cordelia nodded agreement, then paused and spat blood into her palm.

Mentally kicking himself, Xander spat into his own palm. Everyone knew about the power of blood.

Cordelia held out her blood-stained hand to him, reaching through their myriad reflections, and he clasped it tight, their blood mingling.

The darkness winked out.

For a moment, there was silence, pure and absolute, then Xander laughed. "We did it! We actually beat the herald!"

It couldn't harm Willow now. It couldn't harm anyone, because they'd sent it running home.

Cordelia smiled back at him, teeth gleaming in the red mask of her face, her hair solid white with frost, the very picture of beauty as she leaned towards him, but then she shook herself.

"Maybe," she said, shaking the ice from her hair. "And maybe that's what it wants us to think."

"You don't think it's gone?" Xander asked, carefully easing his hand out of Cordelia's. They hadn't used that much blood, but it was still sticky.

"No," Cordelia said. "That lie would get found out too quickly, but maybe it chose to go. It could have screamed like that any time, but it didn't. This may have all been as it planned."

"You had to spoil it, didn't you?" Xander scolded her, his smile belying his words. Maybe she was right, but it didn't matter. The herald was gone; that was victory enough.

"Only a guess," Cordelia said, smiling back. "I'm not going to try out-thinking the herald, not after Margo, but we do have to be careful. Try not to get too confident. "

"As if you'd ever let me get overconfident," Xander said, knocking the remaining frost off his clothes.

Cordelia tilted her head thoughtfully. "We're forgetting something."

"Willow!" Xander said, memory sparked. "She's still in the office."

"More important than that."

"Its curse?" Xander guessed. "It didn't finish it."

"Besides that," Cordelia said, then hesitated. "It didn't?"

"It was going to say 'now and always', right?"

"Optimistic, much?" Cordelia said, then smiled "But I think I remember seeing something somewhere about curses needing proper authority. Giles should know."

"We'll ask him, when he gets back," Xander said, unconcerned. The curse had sounded bad, but even if had worked, Giles would know a way to break it, and if he didn't, Margo had left them a small library of books on curses.

Cordelia nodded, frowning. "I'm still forgetting—"

Outside, something scraped against the wall.

"Moloch," Xander and Cordelia both said, looking at each other. Giles had told them he would take physical form when they banished him from the internet, appearing just outside the library wards, but they'd both forgotten.

"Can't let him get away," Xander said, rushing to the library's external door. Giles had said they didn't have to kill him themselves, but they couldn't let a demon wander round school grounds, and they'd already beaten him once.

"Xander," Cordelia said, running over to the counter. "The axes."

Xander spun on the spot, hurrying back to Cordelia. He wouldn't get very far trying to kill Moloch barehanded, even weakened from the exorcism; that was why Giles had left the axes out.

Snatching one up, he reversed direction again, racing across the library.

Cordelia followed just behind, muttering under her breath.

Xander shoved the door wide open, letting it bounce against the wall, and looked round the parking lot.

Cordelia tapped him on the shoulder, but he ignored her.

The cars were all over by the main staff entrance, too far away for Moloch to be hiding, and he couldn't be right behind the door.

Smiling, Xander looked along the wall, and spotted Moloch, slumped down.

"Looks like he's still hurting from what the herald did," Cordelia said, axe gripped firmly in both hands. "You do remember what Giles said?"

Moloch looked up at them, his eyes clouded, his horns broken, dark blood dribbling from a thousand wounds.

Xander hesitated. Moloch was a demon lord, responsible for countless deaths, but attacking anything so badly hurt felt wrong.

"You came," Moloch croaked, voice distorted by his swollen tongue. "Help me."

"You want our help?" Cordelia said, her voice ringing with scepticism.

Moloch tried to clamber upright, but his arm collapsed underneath him.

"Help me," he repeated, slowly crawling towards them, one leg dragging behind him. "So much … teach you … glorious … together … you can … worship you … show you … website …. children."

"Think he's trying to tempt us?" Xander asked.

Cordelia nodded. "Pathetic."

"Children," Moloch wheezed, collapsing at their feet. "Help me … can show you … so much. How to …"

Moloch spat out a wad of blood, then looked up at them, his face contorted in pain. "Can show you way … draw power from … ruining potential. … Youths are … expendable. … Use them …heal me … make yourself … as gods. … You deserve … no less. Would only take … a few children …."

Xander looked at Cordelia, her expression of disgust mirroring his own, and nodded.

Together, they struck down.

Moloch's head rolled five paces, broken horns scraping against the tarmac.

"That's the only help you're getting from us," Cordelia said. "A quick death."

Xander nodded, watching with grim satisfaction as the body crumbled away.

Cordelia smiled. "Before we let Willow out, you might want to clean yourself up."

"Why?" Xander said, walking back into the library. Willow had been shut in the office with Dave for too long already, waiting with mounting dread. So he had a little blood on him-

Well, more than a little. His entire face was covered in blood, drying tight on his skin, his right hand was bloodstained, with more blood dotting his clothes, and he was carrying an axe dripping dark blood. Willow wouldn't be glad to see him, she'd panic.

She'd forgive him a lot quicker than if he kept her waiting though.

"You really don't know Willow, do you?" Xander added, smiling. "You go clean up. I'll tell her the good news."

"You're sure the curse didn't take hold," Cordelia asked Giles, fifteen minutes later.

Xander listened intently, waiting for confirmation they were safe,

"Curses take more than spite." Giles said. "The herald lacked standing."

Relieved, Xander glanced round the library, Buffy and Willow were sat opposite him, talking about Calax, but Dave was still fiddling with Fritz's computer.

"That wasn't a no," Cordelia said, looking at Giles flatly.

Giles sighed. "If the curse had taken hold fully, you wouldn't have been able to get back in here. Dame Margo's wards would have stopped you."

"But?" Cordelia prompted.

"We know so little about the capabilities of an herald." Giles said patiently. "Unfortunately, it is possible that there may be some lingering taint. I will need to consult the books to be certain, and run a few tests, but if there is, there are ways of breaking unjust curses."

Satisfied, Xander tuned out that conversation.

"—but then the Calax people screamed, and the world went all wobbly," Buffy told Willow. "Their big spell fizzled, so no god."

"You saw that?" Xander asked. "I thought it was just us."

"Hardly," Giles said. "Everyone in the herald's coils felt it scream, and it was wrapped round the entire world."

"But Xander beat it," Willow said, smiling proudly.

"Hey," Cordelia snapped, glaring at her.

"We beat it together," Xander said soothingly.

"I still think—"

"Cordelia," Giles said patiently. "It doesn't matter if it was shamming. Either way, all past precedent suggests we will not see it again. What matters is that you never despaired."

"It'd have to get through Cordelia's pride first," Willow muttered softly, then glanced at Giles. "How much if what the herald told them was true?"

"Most of it will have been true, but—"

"Why," Buffy asked. "Why wouldn't it just lie."

"Lies can be found out," Giles said. "Slanted truths can be seen through. The greater evils prefer truths too dangerous to know. Xander, you mentioned it claimed even it was insignificant, in the true scheme of things."

Xander nodded. "It was trying to undermine our confidence."

"Not quite," Giles corrected. "Oh, it would have been pleased had you crumpled, but the herald was playing the long game. Every time you wonder if you can make a difference, its word will be niggling at the back of your mind, adding to your doubts."

"The last straw," Willow said. "How do we stop it?"

"Don't take too much weight on your shoulders. Trust that others will share the burden."

Xander glanced uncertainly at Cordelia. He could do that easily enough. Being the only one with nothing special to offer rankled sometimes, but at least he was used to relying on people. Cordelia, though, had pride issues.

Cordelia looked at Willow and Buffy, her expression tinged with doubt, then shrugged. "I'm not sure it was actually talking to us anyway. Some of the things it said … There are lots of real gods, aren't there."

"And some of them will have been watching," Giles said cautiously. "The herald might well have been addressing them too, but its words would still have been precisely calculated to harm you."

"Cheerful, aren't you?" Buffy said, looking round the table. "We won."

"But not without cost," Giles said, then smiled. "Still, the good should be celebrated. I didn't bring any pizza back, but I do have a few things in my office cupboard."

"Let me guess," Xander said, watching as Giles stood up. "A nice cup of tea?"

Dave looked up. "He keeps the teapot out on a shelf. It's china."

Cordelia glanced at him, looking faintly surprised. "Decided to join us, have you?"

"Willow," Dave said. "This computer has been through rapid temperature changes, and water exposure. Should it still be working?"

"Not really," Willow said. "If it got as cold as they said, the motherboard should have cracked, but—"

"Giles said it was clean," Cordelia reminded them. "What's your point."

"He said untainted," Dave corrected. "He doesn't understand computers."

Dave paused, swallowing nervously. "I've not been joining in because I'm not one of you. I'm not brave enough to fight demons and gods, but if there is anything I can do, I will do it, and there is. This computer smells suspicious to me, so I'm checking it out. You go and have your fun."

"You underestimate yourself," Giles said, coming back out of his office, carrying a large tin, six stacked glasses, and a bottle of wine.

"I do?" Dave said. "Um, is that wine for them?"

"You're not children," Giles said. "Dave, you discovered today that your mind has been violated by an abomination even gods fear, and that there was nothing you could do about it. I have known strong men collapse into despair with far less excuse than that, but you have endured, and now you're looking for a way to help us. The only difference between you and Xander is that he was in the right place at the right time."

Dave smiled, clearly unconvinced.

"You're serving us wine?" Cordelia said, ignoring Dave completely.

"If you want soft drinks, you'll have to go to the vending machine, but after what we've all been through today, one small glass of wine seems fitting."

"To toast victory?" Buffy said, taking the drinking glasses off Giles.

"And remember the cost," Giles answered, putting the tin down. "You've all been through a psychological ordeal—"

"Even Buffy?" Cordelia asked.

"The Calax staff were possessed," Buffy said, here eyes shadowed. "I had to hurt them badly to make them stay down, and they were all human."

"How badly?" Xander asked warily, reaching over to open the tin. "Cookies?"

"Scottish shortbread," Giles said. "Buffy, you don't—"

"Shattered knees," Buffy said, as Giles poured her a drink. "Broken ribs, some total knock outs. We called an ambulance, but … I just don't know."

"I'm sure they'll all live," Giles sat, his hand reaching out as if to pat Buffy, then falling back.

"That's why you've brought the wine out?" Willow said, putting a consoling arm round Buffy. "You think it'll help."

"No," Giles said. "Talking helps. Alcohol just makes talking easier."

In England, perhaps, but they were all so stiff. Xander didn't need any help to talk to his friends about anything. Telling them about how he had been tortured by a woman wearing Willow's face wouldn't be a problem; he could do it at time he liked, really.

Of course, while he didn't need the wine, not one bit, it'd be rude to turn it down.

Silently, Xander held out a glass for Giles.

"Margo have the same idea?" Cordelia said, tapping her glass meaningfully.

"Accepted practice," Giles said. "Some of the things you've experienced are not safe to talk about, but nothing that happened today was quite in that category. It may do us all good to quietly talk with people who understand what we've been through, and there aren't many of those outside this room."

"Not a drunken party, then," Xander said, looking meaningfully at Willow.

"Definitely not," Giles said. "In a couple of hours, we might want to move somewhere more lively, but I will not let you overdo it."

"You might want that drink now, Mr Giles," Dave said. "I've found the log files."

"The what?" Giles asked, turning to look.

"Partial records of what Moloch was doing. He set up thousands of, um, well, it's complicated, but three are now thousands of copies of his guide to black magic online now, with protective measures to stop them being deleted, and that's just what the herald let us know about."

"That could be annoying," Giles said, "but it isn't urgent. Take a break, and join us. You need this too."

"You're just going to—" Willow began, looking betrayed.

"Most people will assume it's not real," Giles said. "It will take time for word to spread."

Cordelia nodded. "There are other loose ends too, we don't know who scanned Moloch or how the herald got involved, but that can all wait."

Xander frowned. Cordelia was stretching the truth again: while they didn't know how the herald had become involved, what it had said through Moloch was probably true. Giles had confirmed that. If it really was the truth, Cordelia would have to tell everyone, but she'd not want to do that if she could avoid it. Until then Xander would once again be stuck protecting secrets that really ought to be shared, thanks to Margo and her magically binding promises.

Xander took a quick drink of wine, better-tasting than the cheap bear he'd managed to try once, then smiled broadly.

"That's right," he said. "We can deal with tomorrow, tomorrow."

It wouldn't be easy, life on the hell mouth never was, but they'd already faced the worst there was. Things could only get better.