Prologue: The One
Giles groaned as he fumbled for the ringing telephone, knowing that a call this late at night was never a harbinger of good news. As he picked up the phone he glanced at his bedside clock. Four A.M.
"H-hello?" the Englishman stuttered into the receiver.
"Giles, it's me." the familiar voice came over the line, sounding distressed and as if she were on the brink of tears.
"Buffy? What's wrong? What's happened?" the watcher asked, suddenly fully awake.
"I-It's Faith."
"What about her?"
"She's…Giles…she's dead."
"Oh dear Lord. What happened?"
"She double crossed the mayor…I don't know exactly what happened. But he killed her. God, he murdered her." Buffy's voice cracked and she began to sob on the phone.
"Rupert. It's Quentin." The stuffy British voice said over the phone line. This was the second phone call in one night and the first had been bad enough. Now Giles was wondering if this one would be worse.
"Quentin? Why in God's name have you rung me at this hour? Dear lord, have you any idea what time it is? And you do remember that you fired me, correct?"
"Yes, I remember Rupert. And I'm sorry for the lateness of the hour. But it is a matter of some urgency." The other watcher replied.
"Well out with it then."
"Faith is dead."
"Yes, I'm well aware of that, Travers. Please tell me that was not your urgent news."
"Another has been called."
"As I expected."
"The one has been called."
"The one? What do you mea-? Oh dear…oh-oh my. Well…a-are you quite sure?"
"Most definitely. All the signs…all the prophecies…they all point to this one." Quentin stated solidly.
Giles inhaled deeply. "Dear Lord."