Time Explains Us by Erykah Miszti
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Chapter Four: The Truth Bubble
The nebulous masses of energy decided to make a real party out of it and invited everyone to come along…
Xxxxxx
Margaret Castlemaine looked up from packing her case. Her face was a perfect picture of horror. Her husband placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder.
"I'm worried for him." Margaret said flatly with tears in her eyes. "That girl…"
"We can worry about William later." Warren Castlemaine replied firmly. "He's safe while he isn't near the house and I don't think the girl is so stupid as to return there."
Margaret searched his face for a prolonged moment.
"So why are WE going back?" She demanded, her voice laced with concern and dread.
Warren kissed her lips gently and stroked her hair back from her face with tender hands, then his features hardened and his milky blue eyes turned to ice.
"Because no bloody vampires are going to intimidate Warren Castlemaine out of his own home."
Xxxxxx
"The landscape was divine; moonlight streamed across the valley, caressing it's curves and dips like a tender lover. Myself and my companion - a female friend of my acquaintance - rode at reckless speed through the trees. We came to a halt some way away, so as not to disturb proceedings. We were there to watch this time, not to interfere. Within the grove the ceremony was already underway. The magi danced wildly with a majestic grace that spoke of a past long forgotten… when magic ruled the world. They were breathtaking, spellbinding, every other word you can imagine and many more which would require invention to specifically describe the scene which unfolded before our eyes. Torches flickered around the clearing's edge and the primal drumbeat echoed the sound of our hearts. It was possible to feel the powerful charge which stole over the glade as the spell achieved full potency. Their fires became towers of purple flame reaching towards the heavens. The eyes of these powerful magicians glowed green and lightening danced around their feet. Then the spell broke… the fires shifted and the foliage beyond the clearing was thrust aside by rough hands. The sight of them was horrifying. Clarash Demons, many score of them. Horned and clad in great layered plates of blood streaked armour. The tanned hides of human children, so they say. They swept aside the magicians like matchwood, not giving them time to think or to call upon their magic for protection. Their death screams sliced the air like knives. Death and worse; torture, rape.. the scent of blood was all around upon the night air. We fled from that place. There was nothing we could do besides pray the demons had not caught our scent and would not follow us. That they would not find us and murder us too. String us up, allowing our entrails to drip to the ground like rotten fruit…"
"Uncle!" William cut in with a snort of pure disgust. "Why must your stories always end in such a violent and disgusting manner? I am quite overcome that you would enter into such graphic details with a lady present."
"I was liking the story." Buffy smiled as she reclined on the easy chair across from the fire and watched both men in amusement. She grabbed another chocolate from the silver platter on the table beside her.
"See William.. young Miss Elizabeth enjoyed my tale. It would appear that you are the one who is squeamish." He winked at Buffy and she giggled.
She was quite liking this guy.
William looked like he'd been sucking on lemons but Buffy was enjoying that a lot too. He looked so prissy as he tried to pretend that he hadn't been enjoying the story. Buffy knew different though. She'd seen the light in his eyes as Uncle Morty - Mortimer Xavier Castlemaine - had spoken of magic and adventure.
"I am not squeamish, Uncle, merely disgusted by the thought of such bloodshed as you dream up for your tales. Why can you not use your storytelling gift to speak of beauty and love?"
Buffy kept out of it. So far they'd had this same argument many times during the few hours since they'd arrived at Mortimer's elegant house. Mortimer had eagerly taken them in and his love for his nephew was obvious. Buffy had also got a sght of William's hero worship of his, definitely eccentric, uncle. The storytelling had been at William's request in the first place.
"You still do not understand, my boy." Mortimer clasped his nephew's shoulder. "The beauty and the love are present in the passion, the fire, and yes, even in the horror of it. There is beauty in life and in death, William. Passions are the key, my boy, passions! They shouldn't be bottled up and left to fester."
Buffy sucked on the chocolate and regarded Mortimer steadily. He was a weird one. For one thing he'd turned out to be much younger than she'd expected, although still pretty old, 40-ish, she guessed. A confirmed bachelor, who still seemed to have an eye for the ladies. Every one of his stories seemed to involve "a lady friend of my acquaintance". And he most definitely looked like an older version of his nephew. Same cheekbones, same eyes.. better hair.
After dinner, he'd led them into his study, which was a much smaller room, lined with books and smelling comfortably of cigars and old leather. A roaring fire was the main light in the room, although several small lamps were clustered around the walls. Their flames were turned low, giving the room an intimate feeling.
William had protested at first to them coming in here. He did not feel it was appropriate for Buffy to sit there with them. She had been ready to hit him around then. He had mumbled something about the impropriety of it, which had only made his uncle laugh harder and chide him for having no sense of fun and for always living by the rules. Mortimer had turned to Buffy and asked her if she always lived by society's rules. Her answer had been a mischievous grin that Mortimer had returned. William was overruled and they settled themselves in the leather chairs by the fire with chocolates and sherry. Buffy hadn't had sherry before, so it went pleasantly to her head. It was nice to not have to think for a while. She decided that they were safe for the moment and that she'd start thinking again tomorrow. For now, she listened to Morty's stories and laughed at the weirdness of her Spike behaving very un-Spike-like.
At first Mortimer had seemed a lot like Giles, stuffy and always preoccupied with something, like he was always lost in thought. But having listened to his stories she was no longer sure what he was. William seemed convinced that they were just make believe but they had a ring of truth about them which would make this man part Giles, part Jules Verne and part Indiana Jones.
William had fallen quiet after Mortimer's last statement about life, death and passions. His head had dropped a few inches and Buffy realised sadly that the fun, forgetful time was probably over. It was time for business. Mortimer cut to the chase.
"I haven't yet asked you William what you were doing on my doorstep at so late an hour.." He looked towards Buffy. "Nor Miss Elizabeth have I questioned your unchaperoned arrival with my nephew. Whilst you are obviously an American, you do not have the bearings of, say, a streetwalker or a lady of the night…"
William's head snapped up.
"Uncle, how dare you speak to a lady in such a manner!"
Mortimer smiled indulgently.
"William, my dear boy, I am not altogether sure just what you have brought to my door, but this young woman is no lady. Hush now!" He cut off the indignant remark William had started making. "So, young Miss Elizabeth.. just what are you?"
Buffy smiled nervously, unsure how to answer. Her eyes wandered around the room and one book practically jumped off the shelf at her. 'A Treatise on the Mythology and Methodology of the Vampire Slayer' Buffy frowned. Uncle Mortimer definitely knew a lot more about the world than he was giving away. Time for a half-truth. She closed her eyes.
William staring at her was the first thing she saw when she opened them again.
"My family was murdered by a clan of vampires." She said softly, looking directly at him and hating the lie. She turned to look at Mortimer instead. "I swore revenge. I followed them here and found one attacking your nephew. Luckily I was able to chase her away but now they're after both of us. They attacked your brother's house tonight. We had no choice.. we ran."
Mortimer watched her steadily and if he saw through her half-lies then he gave no sign. He looked at his hands for a moment before returning to look at her.
"Do you know the name of the Master vampire, the leader of the clan?" He asked thoughtfully and Buffy almost smiled. He just might know enough to help her.
"They call him the Scourge of Europe." She replied.
"Angelus?!" He gasped in genuine horror and turned to his nephew. "William, where are your parents..?"
William was watching both of them warily and with building fear.
"They have gone to Yorkshire." He replied slowly, deliberately. "Uncle, your stories…"
"Now is no time for stories, William. If Angelus is hunting you then you.. we, all of us.. are in the greatest of danger." He looked into the fire for a moment. "At first light we must get you both out of London. If your parents are already enroute for the north then they may be safe. I shall join them presently, since it is possible Angelus will discover our family connection."
"We've put you in danger by coming here.." Buffy realised.
"No, my dear, I would have been in danger anyway as soon as…" He stopped and looked his nephew as he made a strange choking sound.
Buffy followed his gaze. William was sitting with his head in his hands, rocking backwards and forwards. She went to him immediately.
"William, what's wrong?" She asked softly.
"This is real." He said without looking up.
Buffy sent a concerned and questioning look over her shoulder towards Mortimer. He was watching the pair of them with a frown on his face. Buffy turned back to the distressed man by her side.
"Come on.." She tried for a smile. "You took the news about vampires so well before.." She lightly punched his shoulder. "You even had that cross.."
He looked up at her and she could see the frightened look in his eyes.
"I.. I... I acted without thinking. Uncle Morty once told me a story about vampires and I.. I did not really believe you when you said they were vampires. You were so strange.. I was humouring you."
Buffy felt surprisingly hurt and then remembered the pack of lies she'd told him so far and kicked her own pained feelings out the door.
"William.." Mortimer came closer and touched William's arm to form a connection between them. "You need to believe this. Not all of my stories are fabrications as I have led you to believe. Some are truthful." He sighed and brushed back a curl which had strayed onto his nephews forehead. They stared at each other; one afraid and one calm. "I need you to be strong now, my boy, stronger than you imagine you can be. This creature which is chasing you. It is very dangerous."
"I.. I'm afraid." He said, his voice cracking, and his uncle instantly pulled the young man into his arms.
Buffy's heart broke with the words and at the sight before her eyes. She made her decision. To use words Spike would have been happy with.. bugger the future! She just couldn't let this man die. She couldn't sacrifice him.
"Mister Castlemaine.." She began, taking a chance. "I need to speak to the Watcher's Council."
Mortimer's head came up with a start. He stayed cradling his crying nephew but he now focused on Buffy.
"I've no time for games or let's pretend you don't what I'm talking about." She told him firmly. "I need information and they're my only hope for getting it."
The silence stretched as she stood firm under his inquiring gaze.
"I should be able to arrange that." He said at last.
Xxxxxx
Margaret and Warren Castlemaine crossed over the threshold into their home. The servants had either run away or had been murdered. The house was now silent, dark and empty.
"Warren?" Margaret began. "Do you believe that girl was…? Might have been..?"
"The Slayer?" He finished for her and nodded.
"But why is she protecting our William?"
"Why should she be any different from the rest of us? We have all had to protect the poetry spouting fool since the day he could walk!"
"Warren! He's your son. How can you speak of him so?" She chastised harshly.
"How can you defend him when you know how foolish he is?" Warren replied just as harshly.
Margaret could not bare it when her husband described their son in such a fashion. She loved her child and she knew Warren did too, but he could not seem to bring himself to think well of the boy.
The couple stopped in the hallway and began unpacking the objects required for the de-invitation spell.
"She was most likely sent by the Watchers." Margaret mused.
"Hah! Why? To recruit him?! I hardly think so!" His cruel words echoed eerily in the darkness beyond their small candles.
"William would have made an excellent Watcher had you not intervened…" Margaret defended.
"I did it to protect him, Margaret. The Council may be predominantly sedentary but William is not cut out for a world of monsters and demons." His tone was softer now, more truthful. He did love his boy.
"I think you underestimate your son." Margaret remarked and her husband frowned, slumping his shoulders slightly before resetting them just as firmly as before.
"No Margaret. The boy is far too delicate."
"I agree." A voice said from behind them.
The pair gasped and turned in shock towards the voice to find Angelus standing on the stairs above them leaning casually on the newel post. His features wore their vampire mask.
"An' ta be sure, I'm looking forward ta tastin' that delicate wee morsel." He grinned.
The humans both made to run for the front door but their way was blocked by two female vampires; Darla and Drusilla. They backed away, drawing closer to each other and clasping hands tightly.
"But tha's fer later." Angelus continued. "Let's start with you…"