Chapter Four: Hidden Nature

In the interests of letting the entire group see what was going on, Ethan found a large bowl in Giles' kitchen and filled it with water. He placed it on the counter separating the two rooms and everyone sat on the stools around it. Ethan also raided Giles' supply of magical ingredients, which had been in a small box on the bottom shelf of the bedroom bookcase. He started putting the spell components together as he explained what he was doing to the Scoobies.

"What I'm casting is a scrying spell that locks onto a specific target and shows it to us in the water. Once we find the target, Ripper in this case, we can um, I suppose you might call it zooming in or out, to see what's going on around him, find out where he is. The spell includes sound so if anything's being discussed, we'll hear it. The biggest problem is that in order for me to work this so that all of us can see and hear what's going, the scrying will be relatively easy to detect. That's what this extra stuff is for." He indicated some herbs and a few things the gang didn't really want him to identify. They looked like body parts of some kind or another, of unknown origin and species. Ethan starting chopping those into small pieces, mixing them with the herbs and dumping the whole mess into the bowl, where it settled at the bottom beneath the water. He also muttered a few phrases in a language none of them knew, though Spike narrowed his eyes slightly, as if he could almost, but not quite, recognize it.

"That's an added spell that should mask the rather obvious signature of the scrying spell. It won't hold up if they have someone actively looking for a scrying spell, but that's a remote possibility. So, let's see what we can find out, shall we?"

Making a few passes over the water with his hands, Ethan muttered a few more incomprehensible words, and then touched the center of the water with his finger. Radiating from the point his finger had contacted, the water lit up brightly. When the ripples and the light faded, Giles' face was clearly visible on the surface. Ethan made a few hand gestures and the view shifted, moving backwards until they could see the entire room that Giles was in.

Stripped to the waist, the Watcher was tied to a chair in the center of a small, otherwise bare room. His body clearly showed signs of having been beaten recently and there were what appeared to be cuts and burn marks ranging all over his skin. His face was haggard but composed as he stared defiantly into the eyes of his captor, who looked nothing like the gang expected a five hundred year old Master Vampire to look.

He was short, only about five foot five, and he was thin, almost reedy. Beginning to bald and dressed in a rather nice three piece suit, he looked like a banker, not an evil demon. But his face sported the obvious ridges and fangs of a vampire, not to mention the golden irises. Judging by his position in the room, this was definitely the one in charge.

The banker vamp was standing directly in front of Giles, about two feet away. There were two vampire guards at the door, and two more standing next to and slightly behind the secured human. From the wicked looking dagger with blood on the blade that one of them carried and the still-glowing metal rod in the hands of the other, it was evident that these two were the ones who were doing the actually torturing.

The group collectively leaned forward as they watched, trying to find a clue as to where this scene was taking place and trying to hear the rather faint words being spoken by the vampire in charge.

"quite impressed. You have taken great pain and still you have not given me any of your knowledge. You have not even revealed whether you know anything that would be of use to me. But still, the fact that your name appears in the prophecy is telling."

Giles gave a dry chuckle that rattled in his throat. "Just because you see my name written in another language doesn't mean it's referring to me. Those words just happen to be spelled the same, that's all. The translation makes no mention of me."

Gregory smiled. "Ah! He speaks! And he speaks such good sense that I have to wonder if you're trying to mislead me." His eyes glittered cruelly. "So I have invited one of my allies to help me question you. Now that you are actually answering, it would seem to be time for him to join us." He said a few words to one of the guards at the door, who left the room. Inside the room there was only silence punctuated at intervals by Giles' breathing, which fortunately did not appear to be labored.

A few minutes passed and then the guard returned, preceded by the blue skinned demon who had captured the Watcher. The demon inclined his head in greeting to Gregory, who returned the gesture before once again facing his captive. "This is my ally. He is a Nathlar and has a rather unique ability concerning auras."

Giles' brows knit together as he frowned, obviously putting that piece of information to use. Gregory noticed and nodded, pleased with the demonstrated intelligence. "I see you begin to understand. A Nathlar is able to copy an aura. For a moment in your living quarters, it was as if he were you. And so, when he invited my minions to enter, since he did so with your aura, it was as if you yourself had issued the invitation."

The demon, wearing an anticipatory smile, moved to stand directly in front of Giles. Rupert found that he couldn't look away as the blue hands came down to rest on either side of his forehead. His eyes grew round and fixed, staring directly into those of the demon. Gregory's smile grew wider when he saw the human's reaction.

"There is another aspect to his aura skills. My friend will be able to tell me if you are lying by the shifting in your aura. He tells me that you have an intriguing aura, by the way. He's quite pleased to be able toplay with it. So, let us start this over. Do you know the language that the original prophecy is in?"

Giles didn't make a sound, simply stared into the Nathlar's eyes. Gregory motioned to the two vampires behind Giles. The one with the heated metal rod grinned and touched the fired end lightly to the Watcher's shoulder. Giles gave off a shout, short and full of agony, as the brand burned his skin. There were tears of pain in his eyes. Gregory simply cocked his head expectantly.

Drawing a few deep breaths, still unable to look away from the penetrating gaze of the demon, Giles admitted, "I do know the language." The Nathlar studied him for a moment and then nodded to Gregory, whose eyes shone with delight. He quickly continued the questioning. "Is the translation accurate?"

Giles hesitated and the dagger, still wet and red with his blood, was brought down to rest against his chest, idly scratching his skin without breaking it. Swallowing, not wishing to feel more pain so soon, Giles said, "Yes, it is accurate."

The Nathlar took longer this time to study the human in its grasp. His eyes narrowed as if trying to get past a difficulty or figure out a puzzle. After a minute or so, he looked to Gregory and nodded again.

"Very well," said Gregory, "Tell me what you think the prophecy means, why your name is mentioned in it."

Giles' whole body trembled but he stayed silent. The dagger started to cut thin red lines into his flesh but he didn't say a thing, didn't even give voice to the pain he was suffering. The dagger continued to cut patterns on his chest, the lines growing ever deeper and more painful, until suddenly, the Nathlar seized the dagger and shouted, "Stop!"

Gregory stared at his ally in surprise. "What's wrong?"

The Nathlar shook his head. "I'm not sure. There's something about this one. His aura ismisleading. Even as he speaks the truth, I sense a lie. Even when he says nothing at all, his aura sings of a lie told. He is hiding something of his very nature, lying about himself. How is he doing that?"

Gregory blinked and then began to think. The vampire who had been carving into Giles returned to his former position behind the human. Giles himself watched both Gregory and the Nathlar with wide, frightened eyes. His breathing was fast and he was trembling. Then Gregory waved his hands in a complicated pattern and touched his captive's shoulder. The results were immediate and astounding.

Giles' face shimmered for an instant and then melted, the features rearranging themselves. His ears grew delicate and pointed, his eyes shifted to a slight exotic slant. His hair lengthened to his shoulders and darkened to a deep brown with red highlights. The irises of his eyes were now a shimmery silver and his skin seemed to be dusted with rainbows. His face lost lines and appeared decades younger. All in all, he was still obviously Rupert Giles, just as he was obviously not human.

Gregory nodded to himself in satisfaction. "Hiding his nature indeed. He was wearing a glamour. Now this certainly makes things interesting."