Chapter 36 - Ghost Stories by Daylight
The day takes on an eerie personality of its own after that. We sit around listening to Lucy telling us about the Senior Partners like kids at a pyjama party sharing ghost stories. Except these ghosts are real, and we all know just how much damage they can do.
"The original group who left our society and made a deal with the Darkness was small but even then, three of them were the leaders. The others were weak in comparison, and willingly followed the three because of the things they were promised. The split happened a very long time ago, before human history was recorded except by word of mouth, and since our history is now interspersed with that of the humans who have chosen to share their lives, the actual time scale is blurred. Nevertheless, the deal was made, and this group was taken out of this reality, this universe, into another. The reward granted them by the Darkness was twofold. The first of these was that they were granted immortality. That doesn't mean they cannot die, but more that they will not age, in much the same way that vampires do not age. However, they can be killed. Inevitably, squabbles broke out among the three, petty rivalries for the most part, which led to the deaths, eventually, of all the followers. The three who remain, however, were always the real threat, so nothing has really changed. From what we know of them, it is hard to imagine these three working in concert, but it is true that we have no information to suggest that they still vie among themselves for supremacy."
Lucy pauses then, looking at her audience and apparently finding us all paying appropriate attention, so she returns to her tale.
"The second part of the reward they were given was the ability to wield power greater than even they had been able to. However, we believe that this is a double-edged gift, in that the ability to use this power is limited in some way. It is certainly true that they prefer to show their power in short and ugly bursts, aimed at terrifying their minions in this world, and that, added to the benefits available to those who are loyal to them, is enough to ensure obedience. They are able to follow closely the thoughts of those who have sold themselves, although the extent to which it is done will vary according to the perceived risk. To escape such control is very unusual. This power is not limited to the living, since it can, as you have seen, hold one who is dead in every real sense."
I glance at Wes, and see a tiny nod of acknowledgement. Then something occurs to me.
"What about Angel? Are they watching his thoughts like that? Do they know what we're planning?"
"As I understand the situation with Angel and the others who joined him, no. The idea wasn't that Angel should be controlled, but rather that he should be corrupted naturally. I would imagine that a creature with the flair for evil inherent in Angelus would be considered a greater prize than merely keeping Angel under their thumb. Does that seem to be correct, Wes?"
Wes is looking thoughtful as she speaks, but nods as soon as she questions him. "I've certainly never felt that we were being overtly controlled by the Senior Partners. If I had, I would have attempted to leave long ago. I think you're probably right, that they were simply hoping that the power available to him would eventually corrupt Angel, soul and all."
"Thank you, Wes. To continue, these three remaining Carnolan identify themselves with certain characteristics, and indeed, have always done so. One thinks himself especially wily and clever, and in this time takes the name of the Wolf. Another thinks of himself as particularly strong, although I don't think he ever measured his strength in terms of physical muscles but rather in terms of what he can endure, and he uses the name of the Ram. And the third, who thinks himself especially quick, and again, I don't mean that in purely physical terms, uses the name of the Hart. And from there, of course, you get the name of the organisation in this dimension which they run for their own purposes - Wolfram and Hart."
Well, that makes sense, I suppose. So, there are three of them, and they don't live in this dimension. So far, not seeing too many chances of destroying them once and for all. Still there must be more.
"There are attempts described in our history, brave men who tried to defeat the three. Those who tried were destroyed. It is a long time since the last attempt, but the memory of what happened to those brave men lives on in every Carnolan, passed on from father to son and from husband to wife."
She pauses again, shuddering, and I notice her normally pale complexion is almost ashen.
"You know that the Carnolan can communicate telepathically. This is a bond which is at the base of our society. Yet it was this ability that the Senior Partners used to ensure their superiority over the rest of their kind. Before they were involved with the Darkness, they used their abilities with the magic of the Carnolan to destroy many of their own kind. With the extra abilities granted them by the Darkness, they were able to hone that skill to a truly terrifying weapon. Those who were sent to destroy them were killed in the most horrific manner imaginable. Their minds were filled with images which were utterly terrifying, and their bodies with pain that was all but unimaginable. In the last attempt, they made sure there would be no further attacks, by forcing every other Carnolan on the planet to share some part of the agony of those they destroyed. We believe they would have destroyed the whole people at that time had they been able to. This is an example of the limitations of their power. We suspect that being in a separate dimension must limit their power here. They could, of course, come to this dimension to achieve our final demise, but we believe they see that as a foolhardy move since they are more vulnerable among the hordes of humans who populate this planet."
"So you won't risk your own people any more, but why should we have any more luck?" Spike sounds suspicious.
"Simple. Since you are not Carnolan, you will be much less receptive to the control they exert on minds."
"Are you sure about that?"
"We are certain that you will be very much less receptive than any Carnolan, but we cannot be certain that you will feel no effect."
"What about Spike? You say that I should be less receptive than a Carnolan, but Spike's got the essence of a Carnolan artefact inside him. How is he going to be affected?"
Clinton's voice sounds in my mind, and apparently, all the others present too.
"I can't promise that he won't be more affected than you are, but without being specifically tuned to the original amulet, the effect should be much less than with a Carnolan. However, if you wish, I will see if Willow and I can contrive something to temporarily mute that aspect of his being. Are you agreeable, Willow?"
"Sure," she says aloud. "Not sure what I'd need to do, but if you can show me …"
There's silence, both mental and physical for a moment, but by the look of concentration on Willow's face, I know she's still hearing something.
"Oh, I see," she murmurs at last. "No problem."
"Ok," I say. "So, they shouldn't be able to defeat us just by the power of their minds. What else aren't you telling us?"
"Well, naturally, these are three Carnolans, and their physical strength will be at least that of an average of the species. However, we suspect that as a result of the changes wrought by the Darkness, they may be stronger, and harder to kill than would normally be the case."
"And how do we kill them? I mean, vampires? Easy. Three options. I tend to go for cutting off heads for other demons if I can't think of anything else, but even that's not foolproof."
"Beheading will be adequate, we believe, but, to be safe, perhaps burning the remains?" Lucy's smile is small and possibly rather tolerant-looking.
"Ok, sounds to be within normal parameters. And it sounds like I'm channelling the Initiative here."
Lucy looks confused for a second, then seems to decide to ignore my off topic comment.
"So, how do we get at them? They're in another dimension, but other Carnolans have been sent there before. So, how is it done?"
"For this, you will need magic. I assume, Willow, that you will be able to open a gateway to the dimension if I give you something to home in on?"
"Yeah, sure. I've done that sort of thing a time or two, but it's not something I like to mess with. Never know what'll happen. But surely you could do that? You don't need me."
"True, Clinton would be more than capable of doing that. But it would leave him open to attack if the attempt was spotted. And you, with your power which stems from a different source, will be less likely to be spotted anyway. And you are quite right to be wary of such magics, but I believe the risks in this case to be limited to those we have already discussed. As soon as Buffy and whomever she wishes to assist her are through, the gateway should be closed."
"But if it's closed, how do we get back?" Spike demands.
"Simple," Lucy says. "Since the dimension in which the Senior Partners reside was manufactured for their use, it will cease to exist when they do. You will be dropped right back into the dimension in which it existed, and that is all around us."
"So, once we're in, we don't get out unless we kill the three of them, that it?" Spike almost sounds like he's looking for a fight, but I look at his face and realise it's quite the opposite. He's really looking forward to this.
"Is that a problem?" Lucy asks.
"No, no problem at all. Just like to make sure I know the odds, that's all."
"How about you?" Lucy asks me.
"I've gone into things with apparently less chance of succeeding before now, so I guess I'm ok with it. It's who I am. I just forgot that for a while."
Spike smiles at me as I say that, and I know he's relieved to hear it. I think he's looking forward to what's coming the way he always did look forward to a fight, and he's glad I've still got some of that too. Still, if we're going to try to make something of our life together, maybe we're going to have to find some sort of middle road.
"Can I do the mojo here? To open the portal?" Willow asks.
"It's possible," Lucy answers. "But we had most success when we were close to the source of Wolfram and Hart's power in this dimension."
"And that would be …?"
"The basement of the Wolfram and Hart building, of course."
"Well, that means Angel's got a job, then," Spike mutters, and I can tell he's not entirely happy about that.
"Yes," agrees Wes. If he picked up on Spike's unwelcoming tone he hasn't said anything.
The group dissolves then, as I move closer to Spike to see if I can help with his concerns about Angel, and Willow asks for information on the portal opening. No sooner have I calmed Spike a bit, than Wes joins us.
"Tonight ok?" he asks.
"Don't see any point in waiting, mate," Spike says, and earns a pat on the shoulder from Wes.
"Assuming we can get the portal open, and Spike protected from having his mind invaded, why not?" I agree.
"How are you off for weapons?" Wes asks.
"Not so good these days," I admit. "A lot of the Slayer stash was destroyed with Sunnydale, and what was left was divided up among the new Slayers who wanted something. I've got stakes, but not a lot else. I gave the scythe to Kennedy since she was taking on an active hellmouth. And, well, she sort of expected to have it."
"I've got a reasonable private collection," Wes says. "I keep some of it at home, but there are some pieces which I store elsewhere. I think we should pay that collection a visit and pick out something for each of us."
By the time we're ready to go and do that, Willow's hard at work deciding what she needs to bring about the portal. So that we don't have to leave Lucy alone, we agree to pick up what she needs while we're out, giving Willow some peace to prepare for the magic she's going to have to channel later.
We first go to the magic supplies store. It's bigger than the Magic Box and for the most part full of things which would have had Anya rubbing her hands in glee - worthless but appropriately valuable looking, and therefore profitable. I feel a twinge of sadness as I think about her. For all her, well, idiosyncrasies, she was a very special person. I don't think Xander ever really got over the fact that he got out of Sunnydale and she didn't.
Despite all the trashy stuffy, there is a section which caters to the more experienced practitioner, and Wes takes over the purchase of what is necessary. He may not have Willow's power, but he's got a good background in the theory. While he's doing that, Spike and I wander around checking out the other merchandise.
Once out of there, we get back into Wes' car and drive to a part of the city I've never been in before. It seems to be unnaturally dark and mysterious - more like a Gotham City set for a Batman movie than LA. When he eventually pulls up to the kerb outside a large, gothic looking building, Spike and I share a look of distaste.
"It's not far from here," Wes offers as he climbs out of the car.
"And where exactly is 'here'?" Spike demands.
"Probably best if you don't know too much," Wes counters. "I have some … friends who live around here. Some non-human friends. I was able to help them out a few years ago, and they offered to help me if I needed it. When I married Gina, I decided it wasn't appropriate to keep all my weapons at home any more, and they agreed to store them for me. They're going to be very wary of the Slayer in their midst, and I'm going to have to vouch for you, so try to be friendly. And I've got no idea what they're going to make of Spike."
"Wouldn't be the first time someone had that problem," Spike mutters as we fall in behind Wes.
Round the corner and into a dark alley. Why must it always be alleys? Can't people do business in brightly lit, tree-lined avenues? Deeper into the darkness then down a flight of stairs to a doorway. Wes knocks a strange rhythm on the door, then waits quietly until it opens a crack. Wes motions behind for us to wait, and slips inside. I can hear his voice explaining the situation, and then a scurrying sort of noise, and then silence for a few moments.
"Renshaw demons," Spike whispers to me.
"What?" I ask.
"Renshaw. Don't like humans a great deal, but not in the need for violence sort of way. Don't like many other demon species either, far as I can tell. Don't make good food for a vampire, though, so our paths don't often cross, well, unless you're Angelus in one of his whimsical moods. Pretty harmless. Can sting, but no poison or anything, just a nasty sharp pain. Generally prefer to be left alone."
"And you know this how?"
"Well, don't know, not as such. Just guessing, from the sound, you know? Sounds like wings being flapped in a confined space."
"Wings?"
"Not telling you anything else. Waiting to see the look on your face if they let you see them."
He's grinning at me, and I'm not altogether comfortable with that, but before I have time to do anything about it, the door opens fully, and Wes beckons us in.
"Follow me," he says.
"Where are our … hosts?" I ask.
"They're around, they'd just prefer to stay out of your way. Like I said, they're not too keen on humans, and even less so when it comes to Slayers."
I shrug and follow Wes further into the building, down another flight of steps and down a corridor with closed doors on either side. I hear that same noise again as we move. I called it scurrying, but that's not really it. Certainly, it could be wings flapping but not really getting going, but I'm finding it hard to picture.
There's some further flapping ahead, and Wes stops at one of the doors. I've no idea if he recognised it or someone told him it was the right one, as I can't see anything to distinguish it from all the others. Wes puts a palm up to the door, and I hear the sound of bolts being drawn, then the door opens. We follow him inside to what appears to be a storage room. One wall is covered with wide shelves, and close to another is a cabinet which houses an array of swords the likes of which I've never seen.
Wes opens the cabinet - this time using a rather mundane key - and pulls out one of those inside. It's a sabre, and a wicked looking one at that. He hefts it in his hand a few times before nodding.
"I'll take this one. See if there's anything to suit you there. I'll go and look out some smaller pieces."
"You're coming?" I ask. Somehow I'd reckoned on Spike, Angel and me. The idea that Wes was coming too just hadn't occurred to me.
He glares at me for a moment, then answers. "Naturally. I would not expect any of the rest of you to risk yourselves if I wasn't willing to bear the same risk. And I've already told you that I believe that our current plan is the best way of getting Gina back."
"But …"
"But nothing. I'm coming, and I'm not at all sure you can stop me."
He turns his back on me to ensure that the conversation is over. I turn to look at Spike who seems singularly impressed by the collection. He lifts a very light looking, needle pointed thing and waves it around a time or two before putting it down and taking a broadsword from its support. He grins as he feels the weight of it. Truthfully, it looks kind of big for him, and if he only had human strength, it probably would be.
"You ok with me taking this one, Love?" he asks.
"Yeah, fine. I like the look of this one anyway."
I pick up another broadsword, but this one is smaller than his - smaller, shorter, and breathtakingly beautiful. The hilt is intricately worked in what looks like silver and gold, and it's the most beautifully balanced sword I've ever held.
We look round to find that Wes has sorted several knives from a box on one of the shelves. He puts them into a bag which is lying in the corner, and suggests we do the same with our chosen weapons. We leave quietly the way we arrived, and the only sign that we're not alone is that same flapping sound in the darkness. Once at the door, Wes turns around and speaks to someone, thanking them for their help. Just before the door closes, I catch a glimpse of something so beautiful I instinctively move towards it. Wes holds up a hand to stop me and I do.
"If she showed herself to you, you should be grateful, but leave it at that. You've been granted a significant honour."
"Renshaw?" Spike asks.
"You recognised them?" Wes seems surprised.
"By the sound. Angelus had a thing about them at one time. Not a period I'm happy to remember."
"Ah, I see. You know, of course, that Renshaw is the human name for them?"
"Guessed as much, but never got the chance to chat while Angelus was entertaining a couple of them."
"Their own name for themselves is unpronounceable to us, but it apparently means 'night dancers'."
"Appropriate," Spike agrees. "Nearest thing to fairies you'll find," he informs me. "Probably the basis of all the fairy myths there are. Prefer to keep out of the way, though. So, how'd you get to be so pally with them?" he addresses Wes. "Never knew them to allow humans among them."
"Well, Wolfram and Hart was approached a few years back by some big Hollywood producer. He'd found out about the existence of these demons and thought they'd go down a treat in some film he was making. So, he had a load of them kidnapped. He had some mage or other keeping them under control and he was in the process of 'training' them. He actually came to us because he thought we'd find him a better trainer than he already had. I took responsibility for the case, found a 'trainer' who managed to train them to freedom. I was offered a version of three wishes, although the choice was rather more mundane than in the stories. It just boiled down to being able to ask for three favours. So far, I've only asked one, and that was for use of the storage facilities we visited. I'm honestly not sure they could do anything else for me that'd be useful, but you never know."
We walk back to the car in thoughtful silence, and remain quiet all the way back to my apartment. Once there, Spike is accosted by Willow, and he follows her into the bedroom she's been using and where, apparently, Clinton is waiting. They emerge about half an hour later, and Spike seems less than happy, but Willow informs me that everything went well.
"What's up?" I ask, dragging Spike to one side.
He shakes his head. "Just don't like having people poking around in my head, that's all. Right now, it feels like there's this lump of cotton wool in there, keeping me from remembering something important. They tell me it's just the dampening, and that it'll go after a day or so, but it's still bloody irritating."
I stroke his head at that, then plant a kiss on his lips. "Sorry, can't make it all better right now. Later maybe?"
"You'd better believe it," he replies, smiling back.
With that, we join the others, and the remaining time is spent ensuring that we each have everything we need. Wes calls Angel and agrees when and where they should meet, and Lucy prepares a quick meal for everyone.
By eleven thirty we're ready, and we drive to the Wolfram and Hart building, leaving Lucy and Clinton alone in my apartment behind every ward Willow can think to apply. This is it. This is what we've been heading towards for months, or more correctly, years. This is the consequence of Spike using that amulet to close the hellmouth all those years ago. But it's more than that. It's our opportunity to destroy one of the major influences for evil alive in the world today. And that makes it special.