Part Two

'Wo qing qui wu xin zi li. Kun, zhen, xun, kan, li. Ci wo tong ling. Ji fao muo li,' Wo Pang began to intone. He opened his eyes - and they glowed red. 'Wo hao zhao jue xin ze. Wan cheng ta de zi yuan.' He bent down and whispered into Angel's ear: 'time to say goodbye' and then he took the sword from his belt and swung it straight at the vampire's neck.

Angel pulled his arm free of the restraints and grabbed the shaman by the wrist, arresting the fall of the sword only inches away from his neck. He struggled to force the blade away from himself.

'Gunn!' Wesley yelled at the street fighter, and Gunn began to try and unlock the double locked cage door, his hands fumbling as he tried to get it done quickly. 'Hurry!' Fred cried. Up on the stairs, Doyle and Cordy heard the ruckus and came running back down, just in time to hear Wo Pang hiss, 'fool, why would I help you? I serve the awakened one.'

'A little help here, please,' Angel yelled at his team, from his position still strapped to the bench. Gunn got into the cage and began to wrestle the shaman away from Angel, as Angel unfastened his restraints. Wo Pang pushed Gunn out of the cage, he knocked into the Muo Ping - the container which was supposed to hold Angel's soul. Then the shaman swung his sword at Wesley, who jumped out of the way. Another sword swing was aimed at Doyle's head - and the half demon crashed to the ground, as he ducked to avoid it. Cordelia and Wo Pang were now face to face and - using her patented move - Cordy kneed him hard in the groin and, as he doubled over, kicked the sword from his hand. The shaman staggered and found himself now face to face with a freed Angel.

'So this was all a set up?' Gunn said, as the shaman looked around at the circling team, warily, 'the whole soul colonic, what for?'

'That's what I'd like to know,' Angel said, bearing down on the wrongfooted shaman, glowering. 'Why does The Beast suddenly want me dead? Did Angelus welch on our pact? Is that it? OK - well, maybe you can shed a little light as to what The Beast's plan actually is.'

The shaman took out a knife, but Angel wasn't bothered by the implicit threat and moved ever closer, 'maybe I should start taking you apart now, piece…'

The shaman lifted the knife, grasping the hilt with both hands, and then turned it on himself; plunging it deep into his own heart. He keeled over - dead.

'...by piece,' Angel finished up. He looked around at his team. Doyle whistled, 'gotta say … didn't see that one comin'.'

'So much for that font of information,' Cordy stared down at the dead shaman at her feet - and then looked up at the guys, 'so what now?'

'Gunn, see if he has anything on him,' Wesley said. Gunn knelt down beside the dead mystic and pulled the covering from his head and face. The head of the shaman was entirely covered in oriental looking characters and, as Gunn pulled at the shaman's robes, it was revealed that the lettering also covered his neck and chest. 'He's got something on him alright,' Gunn said.

...

They had moved the mystic onto the bench, in the cage, on which Angel had been recently strapped down. They had removed much of his heavy robing. Every inch of his bare skin was covered in the same characters - and Wesley was examining them.

The rest of the team hovered above, looking down. 'Is there any part of him that doesn't have writing on?' Lorne asked, sipping his SeaBreeze. Then he shook his head, 'scratch that, I don't wanna know.'

'Can you translate it?' Angel asked Wesley. Wesley furrowed his brow, as he traced his fingertips across the strings of letters. 'Most of it. Definitely scripture. It's a history of the Kun-sun-Dai,' he looked up at the others. 'They're acolytes of The Beast, alright.'

'So that's why we couldn't find anything on Beastie-boy in the books?' Gunn asked, ''cause these guys are walking round with it on their asses?'

Doyle was frowning, 'It's a good job he's freakishly hairless,' he noted - looking at the shaman's smooth skin, 'you think that's a prerequisite of joinin' the order, or do you think these guys wax?'

'Why - are you thinking of joining?' Cordy arched her eyebrow at him.

'No … I'm just sayin' - I've not seen a guy that freakishly hairless since … Angel.'

'Have you ever considered it's not them that's the freakish ones, huh?' she said, 'maybe it's just you that's part chimpanzee.'

'Hey! - ' he began to protest, but Angel cut them off, not interested in hearing them argue. 'Guys,' he said, 'now's not the time.' He turned to Wesley, 'you got anything?'

'There's a passage here,' he said, rolling the shaman's clothing down further. 'Difficult to - Fred could you…' He took hold of Fred's wrist and guided her hand so she was holding the flashlight in a better position. Wesley then began to scan the passage with his magnifying glass. 'It's detailing the acolyte's victory over the Bosh M'ad back in the… third century, sometime.'

'What's a Bosh … whatever you said?' Cordelia asked.

'Opposers of the awakening,' Wesley read. 'The Bosh M'ad forged something to destroy The Beast… 'the tooth of light'.'

'They made a tooth?' Fred wrinkled her nose - not understanding. Wesley clarified a little. To the best of his understanding, it was a weapon of some sort. But it had never been used. The awakening had still been centuries away - and, in the meantime, every last one of the Bosh M'ad had been wiped out by The Beast's acolytes.

'So - this tooth thing must've got them pretty worried,' Fred said. 'What happened to it?'

'Never found it,' Wesley replied - still reading from the shaman's skin, 'the opposers kept it hidden.'

Gunn rolled his eyes in annoyance and crossed his arms across his chest. 'Great,' he said, heavily, 'so now we got to look for a tooth in a haystack.'

'We don't even know what the weapon …' Angel was saying - but he cut himself off when he saw Doyle bring his hand up to his head, grip his brow in pain, and stumble backward. Quick with his vampire reflexes, Angel caught the half demon, before he could fall to the ground, and held him up as the images swarmed into his mind. Once the vision pain seemed to have subsided, the vampire helped steady him on his feet - and then asked the important question, 'what did you see?'

'I saw it - the tooth thing, man. It's a sword. The sword of Bosh m'ad - and we can get to it. It's right here, under the city.'

'Well, that's a break,' Fred said. She sounded a little sceptical. 'This is his second vision today,' she said to the others. 'First The Powers send him a message about Angelus and now about the sword? The last vision was a bust … how can we trust this one?'

'I'm just the messenger, darlin'.' Doyle said to her, 'I know where the sword is - how to get to it… but I don't know anymore than the rest of y' about if it's safe or if it'll work. We just have to trust that The Powers are workin' on our side.'

'They always have before,' Cordelia pointed out. 'Angel is their champion,' she gave the vampire an admiring glance, 'and they sent Doyle to help him, those visions are sent so that Angel can do good in this world. Maybe the last vision wasn't a bust. Without trying to bring back Angelus we never would have brought teenage ninja shaman dude here - and it's his extreme body art that has taught us the only information we've learned about The Beast, so far. We have no choice but to believe Doyle's visions and anyway - they're bound to be true… because Angel is a real champion and the PTB believe in him.'

'Sounds good enough to me,' Gunn said, nodding, sticking his hands in his pockets. Angel nodded as well, 'right - so there's a sword.' He turned to Wesley , 'you hear that - a sword to kill The Beast. And you wanted to turn me into Angelus by having an evil shaman cut off my head. Not that that wasn't a swell plan, too.'

'Sorry,' Wesley got to his feet and walked towards the stairs. His head was hung low as he went. Angel followed him, 'was that - an apology?' he asked. Wesley stopped on the second step and turned back to face the vampire. 'I was careless,' he admitted, 'made a mistake that almost cost you your life. It would have made pulling you out of the ocean a big waste of my time.'

'Yeah,' Angel smiled, 'that would have been a drag.' He took a step closer to the watcher, looking him in the eyes, 'you know that's the first time I've heard you apologise - about anything.' There was a long moment as they stared at each other, both of them understanding the subtext - both realising that, in this moment, with the sun gone and the world about to end, they were reaching a place of healing - of true forgiveness, for both of them.

Doyle came up beside them, 'so - uh - we gonna go find that sword or what?'

Cordelia carried a lantern, raised high above her head - as she, Doyle, Angel and Wesley made their way through the sewers. 'It's always the sewers,' she sighed, 'how many times have we ended up down here now - the four of us?'

'Gotta be a million a times,' Doyle replied, 'whether we're searchin' out hidden gems, or breakin' into Wolfram and Hart to steal files … we always go via the sewer tunnels.'

'the flickering light, the gathering gloom…' Wesley said, looking around him, 'I'm rather reminded of that time we went down into the sea caves to kill the ethros demon.'

'Or it's like the time we had to go down into the subway to find the body of that doped up Kwaini -' Cordelia remembered, 'you guys were such wusses at hacking it up. I had to do all the gross parts - and then I got stuck on following detail to boot.'

'Yes - we certainly have been through a lot together, beneath this city,' Wesley said thoughtfully, 'are you sure this is the way?' He asked Doyle. The Irishman nodded - he had seen clearly enough where they needed to head, in his vision.

'There's one thing I don't get, though,' Angel said. The others turned to look at him, expectantly. 'How is it that a sword from the third century is conveniently located here in Los Angeles?'

'It's not,' Doyle told him, 'at least … not exactly. It's a mystical whosit. I got the impression that it's accessible from about a hundred different places all across the world. He who hunts the sword can find the whosit.'

'Like - destiny,' Cordelia nodded,'like you and that beacon - you were always gonna find it and destroy it, no matter what.'

'Kind of,' the Irishman agreed. 'Sometimes, mystical objects just pull you in. And sometimes they're meant for one person and one person alone. Like the beacon for me - and the Shanshu prophecy for Angel.'

'Right,' Cordelia suddenly grinned, 'hey - wouldn't it be great if this was the apocalypse the Shanshu prophecy was talking about? And after Angel kills The Beast he gets his reward?'

'It would definitely give us a certain element of closure,' Wesley agreed, 'together we could finish what we started all those years ago. Just the four of us.'

'We've all come a long way since then,' Angel said, not yet ready to believe that his prize could be so close, that this was the end of days he was prophesied to avert. If he was made human now - he would get to live his mortal life with his family; with his brothers and with Cordelia. He wouldn't have to watch them grow old - grow away from him. He wouldn't have to watch his own infant son die of old age - whilst he remained eternally youthfully. He couldn't afford to get his hopes up. But his friends had got their hopes up for him: 'And this would bring everything back full circle,' Wesley said.

...

After a while longer, walking through the tunnels, the lantern cast it's flickering light onto an opening in the wall - and they found a way down, even further beneath the city. It was a steep gradient, and the floor was slippery and uneven. They edged down slowly, placing their feet sidewards and holding hands to help each other balance.

Once at the bottom, they found themselves in a wider cavern. Cordelia held up the lantern - and the light revealed a ribbon hanging from the ceiling, with a bell attached to the end. As they peered around, down the corridor leading away, they could see that there were hundreds of such ribbons and bells, blocking the way forward. 'What is this?' Cordelia asked, uneasily. 'Holiday decorations left over from some S&M bondage party?'

'They gotta be here for a reason, I'm thinkin',' Doyle said, 'and - knowin' our luck - it's probably no reason good. Remember the never endin' maze at the ballet? It's always somethin' dark and twisted...'

He inhaled, sharply, as he watched Angel reach out and give one of the bells a tug. As the bell jingled, a dozen wooden stakes sprang out from the walls - firing at them, only missing Angel's heart by inches. 'Wood,' the vampire groaned, 'why did it have to be wood?'

'It's like they knew you were comin',' Doyle patted him on the shoulder.

'Which kinda backs up our whole 'destiny' theory,' Cordelia said.

Wesley was looking around, 'we have to pass through the corridor without ringing any of the bells,' he told them. Doyle raised his eyebrows, 'uh - that might require a feat of acrobatics that I, for one, am not up to - all that duckin' and weavin' and twistin' … hey, can we crawl?'

'Come on,' Angel whispered, leading the way. Cordelia sighed, as she began to follow him, edging around the bells - twisting in the space between them to avoid brushing the ribbons. 'I always knew you three would get me into trouble one day,' she said to them.

...

The four of them moved at a glacial pace, turning and twisting to avoid the ribbons and to prevent the bells from jingling, as they passed. 'Cordelia, freeze,' Wesley suddenly hissed. She stopped dead, 'your sleeve,' he told her. She had got the sleeve of her coat caught on a ribbon, and he gently pulled the bell from her - straightening the ribbon so that the bell wouldn't ring once he let go. They all stood still for a moment - silent, tense and waiting. And then - Cordelia was free and the bell stayed quiet - and they all breathed a sigh of relief. A moment later, Doyle reached the end of the corridor and stepped clear of the ribbons. Cordelia followed him out. But - just as Wesley was also about to clear the final ribbon, his lantern tapped the bell.

'Move!' Angel yelled - and used all his vampire speed to push both him and Wesley clear of the ribbons and out to safety. The wooden stakes fired harmlessly, behind them - but now they found themselves at the end of the corridor, up against a wall - and with nowhere to go. 'Oh no!' Cordelia cried, sounding more annoyed than frightened, 'who booby traps a dead end? That's just not right.'

Wesley held up his lantern to the wall to inspect it - hoping to find a hidden keyhole or a loose stone or ... something. What he found, instead, were markings scratched into the wall. 'There's something here,' he told the others. Angel peered at the letters, placed seemingly at random on the stone surface. 'Assyrian?' he asked.

'Hebrew,' Wesley corrected, 'Rashi script.'

'Man - it's a good job the Watcher's Academy was so big into teachin' languages and translating fancy alphabets,' Doyle said. 'All the Catholic Brotherhood bothered to teach at their schools was Irish and French. Nothin' we ever need translatin' is ever in Irish or French … so what was the point o' all the years of misery?'

'You failed your Irish exam,' Cordelia pointed out to him, 'I don't think you were paying attention throughout the misery - so it wouldn't help, even if every other week we had a prophecy as gaeilge.' Both Angel and Doyle turned to look at Cordelia in surprise. 'What?' she said to them, 'you think I don't ever listen? I know some Irish words go raibh míle maith agat.'

'Well… that was weirdly erotic,' Angel said. 'You really learned some Irish?'

'What? I can't have layers?'

He was smiling at her - in proud amazement, 'you really are something else, you know, Cordy? I've never met anyone quite like you.'

'Well - duh! How's the translating going, Wes?'

'It's just random letters,' the watcher told the others - still scrutinising each character by the light oh his lantern. 'Unless…' he reached out and pressed one of the stones which bore a letter. The stone depressed inward and the wall creaked and groaned and lifted about a foot of the floor. 'That's it!' Cordelia's eyes shone with excitement, 'you did …' the wall slammed back downward, 'you didn't.' Her face fell.

But Wesley was less discouraged. He thought he understood - there was a pattern to it. A sequence they had to press the letters in, in order to raise the wall. Hebrew letters all carried with them a numerical value. Aleph - the one he had just pressed was number one. So - in ascending order - the next letter in the pattern would be … he scanned, again, 'He. 5' he said - pressing that letter. But - instead of pressing inward - this time the stone released a bronze spike that impaled Wesley right through his palm. He groaned in agony. 'What happened? What happened?' Angel asked. Wesley ripped his hand away and they all stared at his bloody palm. Doyle whistled, 'I'm guessin' he got it wrong,' he said.

'I don't understand,' Wesley complained, as Cordelia took hold of his hand, gently. She had ripped a strip from her shirt and was now bandaging the wound. 'I don't know what else…' he stared at the stones again, his brow furrowed. And then his expression cleared, 'that's it!' he exclaimed, 'nine stones! It's not their numerical value. These are the letters of the first antediluvian patriarchs in Genesis.'

'That would have been my next guess,' Cordelia said, wryly - finishing up the bandaging.

'Ante di whatian?' Doyle asked - looking confused.

'Diluvian,' Angel told him, 'pre flood.'

'Oh right - Noah, yeah? Two of every animal. The Watcher's Academy covered all this stuff, as well? … y' woulda thought the Catholic Brotherhood woulda been all over this… maybe it's too Old Testament. Man, was I short changed at school!'

'Uhuh-' Angel wasn't really listening to him, he was waiting for Wesley to come up with the next step in the pattern. 'So, which one do we press?'

'Aleph was Adam,' Wesley said, referring to the stone he had already successfully pressed, 'so - in ascending order - the next one would be... shin for Seth. That one,' he pointed to the letter which represented the second patriarch. Angel pressed it and the wall lifted again. It lifted higher this time - about two feet off the ground - but it closed again before they could get under it. 'Now what?' Angel sighed, as they were faced, once more, by an impassable barrier.

'Kaf for Cainan,' Wesley told him.

'Which one's Kaf?'

Wesley pointed to a letter high up on the wall surface, 'maybe that one,' he said.

'Maybe?' Cordelia sounded less than impressed, 'I don't have enough shirt to bandage you both.' Angel glanced back at her - a slightly wistful expression in his eyes as he caught sight of the trace of bare skin, where she had already torn her shirt, and imagined her ripping the next piece off - like a first aid version of the dance of the seven veils.

He pressed the stone Wesley had indicated - and the wall lifted again. Three feet this time. He dashed beneath it and braced the wall on his back - holding it up, so the others could get under. But it was heavy - and he was struggling. And then Doyle had turned demon face and was under the wall with him - using his own extra strength to help support the wall. Cordelia and Wesley crawled beneath the stone barrier their friends were holding up - and then straightened up when they got to the other side.

The wall seemed to be getting heavier - it was harder and harder to hold. Angel looked at Doyle, 'you go,' he said - hoping he could hold it long enough to stop his half demon friend from getting squished. But Doyle shook his head, 'both of us,' he said to Angel, 'together.'

Angel nodded. 'Now!' he yelled - and they both broke away from the wall and rolled beneath it - as it slammed shut behind them. Cordelia held her hand out and helped Angel back to his feet. Doyle morphed back into his human face, as he scrambled back to his own feet.

The group looked around. They were in a room which had two paths leading in opposite directions. 'Which way now?' Angel asked. Doyle shrugged, 'I'm afraid the vision didn't come with a treasure map, bud.'

'We should split up,' Wesley suggested. Angel nodded - and sent Doyle and Wesley off together in one direction, while he and Cordelia followed the other path. She took his hand, as she walked, smiling up at him in the darkness. 'You know, this is nice,' she said. 'I mean, sure - the sun has gone, the world's about to end and we're only here as it's our only chance of defeating an unkillable nasty but … you, me, flickering lantern light. It's almost romantic.'

'Most of the romance we ever see includes trips out to kill unkillable nasties,' Angel replied.

'Yeah - violence, sex, romance … it's all pretty much the same…' she went up on her tiptoes, leaning in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned down - but just as their lips were an inch apart, she suddenly pulled away. 'Woah,' she breathed.

Angel twisted round to watch as she wandered off the path, 'what?' he called after her, 'we were in the middle of … we had a thing, what?' He followed on after her.

...

Cordelia had wandered into a large, underground room. Unlike the caverns, outside, this one was brightly lit - although there was no obvious light source; no torches, no daylight, no electric lights. But still - it was like the whole room was lit by bright, shining, natural light; allowing them to see their surroundings, clearly, for the first time since they had come underground. There were stone columns supporting the ceiling and a huge stone pedestal in the middle of the room.

'This has got to be the place,' Cordelia said, walking round the edge of the pedestal, gazing up at the high ceilings, 'hasn't it?'

'Maybe.'

'So - where's the sword?' She sighed, 'great - it's gone. Way to send us on a wild goose chase, Doyle.'

'Maybe,' Angel repeated.

'What 'maybe'? I don't see it, do you?'

'No.' He gazed around, blinking in the light, 'but this light must be coming from somewhere.' He held his hand out - so it was hovering above the pedestal - and it disappeared into thin air. There was a disturbance in the atmosphere, though, the light rippled around his arm. Cordelia stared. A sphere of bright, silvery, white light appeared just above the pedestal - with Angel's hand stuck inside it. He reached into the sphere, feeling around.

'It's some kind of dimensional hub,' he said, beginning to understand. Here he was, stood in a cave beneath Los Angeles - and his arm was reaching out into the spaces between the dimensional walls - everywhere at once. 'That's why the sword can be in a hundred different places at the same time,' he explained, remembering what Doyle had said, earlier. Inside the sphere of light, his hand happened upon the thing he was looking for. He grasped the hilt and pulled the sword out of the sphere - Like King Arthur, bringing forth Excalibur from the enchanted lake on Avalon. He stared up the blade, admiring it. A broad smile began to play across his face. 'I'd say things are starting to look…'

Above the pedestal - the bright sphere of light changed colour, from a pure silverish white to a burning red. And it began to pulse - becoming unstable; shaking violently in the air. The whole room had taken on the red, fiery tinge of the sphere now - and the bloody hued light tinged Cordelia's skin - casting her in red relief against the dark shadows. 'Uh - Angel,' she looked unnerved as the vibrating sphere began to sink out of the air. It came to rest upon the pedestal and then disappeared - throwing them all into darkness. 'Can we get out of here now?' she asked.

But then the darkness was lit up by the red glow, once again, as flames burst forth from the floor. The whole room began to shake - the floor buckling beneath their feet - and the columns, supporting the ceiling, began to tumble down; chunks of the roof following suit. The flames shot across the middle of the room - separating Cordelia and Angel from each other. 'Cordy!' he called out her name.

'Angel!' she screamed out - as a pillar came tumbling down on top of her...