Chapter16

Glasgow26 June 2004

I spent some time reading the full report last night and I'm not any happier. In fact, if I thought Buffy was anywhere other than at the other side of the US, I'd be all for getting out of here and going over there even if it does make a nonsense of my attempt to keep out of her way. The idea that she might end up being a victim of this … scheme, well, let's just say that it's not going to happen. Not if I have any say in the matter. Still, at the rate this plague's moving, they reckon we've only got a few weeks, and for now, that just gives me extra motivation to find out what we can here.

It's late morning before we finally leave. A vamp's got to sleep, and anyway, driving'll be easier once the sun's fairly high. The black paint helps, but if it cut out all the sunlight, I couldn't actually see to drive. Gus directs me, and we drive through Glasgow to the motorway. We continue through the city for a bit, past the airport, and then things open out – urban landscape giving way to green fields. Beyond that, we reach the Clyde Estuary, and the road follows the river more or less all the way to Wemyss Bay. It doesn't seem like a big place, but there's a railway station and the ferry terminal next to it. I find the queue, and join it, while Gus gets out to buy our tickets. By the time he gets back, the queue is already moving towards the ferry, so we don't have to wait for long.

Once on board, I go up to the coffee lounge where I manage to find a table where I'm not in danger of frying. I take the opportunity to check out the map of the island that we printed out before we left while Gus takes in the view from on deck.

We drive off the ferry, but soon leave the other traffic, cutting up into the centre of the island rather than going around the coast. Our destination is St. Ninian's point, at the far west of the island. It's not far really. The main road follows the coast, though, and by crossing through the heart of the island, we end up on narrower, more winding roads. We pass some farms and houses along the way, finally rejoining the coast road at the other side, and then start to look for the turning to take us right out to the point. We only spot it at the last minute, and I leave some rubber on the road as I turn quickly. Fortunately, this part of the island is much quieter than the other side close to the ferry terminal, and there's not a lot of traffic on the road.

"Glad it's your tyres," Gus comments under his breath, but then he gasps.

I turn around to look at him, but I already know that his heart rate has gone up alarmingly.

"What's up?" I ask.

"I don't know. I just feel … like there's something going to happen, something … evil."

I hadn't spotted anything, but now that he's pointed it out, I do get something – not the dread that he's feeling, but a definite wash of magic in the air.

"There's something going on," I agree. "Not feeling it like you do, but my guess is that someone's trying to keep humans out of the way."

Gus is looking quite ill. "I'd guess it'd work too. I'm just going to close my eyes and concentrate on not getting out of here, ok?"

"Fine," I agree. It might not be fine, but I can monitor his heart while I drive, and that should give me enough notice if the effect gets any more serious.

The further I drive, the more aware I become. I suspect it's not getting any stronger, just more familiar somehow, and it's not a good magic – nothing wholesome about it.

We continue to drive, and soon spot our destination. The cottage faces the road with the water behind it, and I pull up as close as I can get - which is actually right outside the front door. I look over at Gus, and he seems more or less in control.

"You ok to take a look outside?" I ask.

He nods as if afraid to speak, climbs out and soon I seehim beckoning me towards the now open door. I cover myself with the blanket I threw in the back, and run for it.

The inside looks like it hasn't seen any decoration or new furniture for half a century, which is probably no more than a reflection of the truth. There's a small living room with a suite of furniture, and an even smaller kitchen with an old-fashioned gas cooker. Two bedrooms, both with heavy, old-fashioned beds and wardrobes, are at the back of the building. No bathroom, but Gus points to an outhouse in the back which is probably an outside loo.

"How's it feel now?" I ask.

"Not so bad in the house," he replies, and he does look a little better. Taking a look out the back door, there's a shed just outside, and it's shady enough there that I can get to the door without difficulty. I open the door – unlocked – and walk in. If I had any doubts about the source of the bad feelings, it's pretty obvious now. This shed's been used for magic – there are little pots of ingredients filling shelves around the walls, and the large table in the centre of the room has been soaked in blood over many years. The room just reeks of magicl. Despite that, Gus seems much better, and I glance in his direction to check his appearance. He's got some colour back, and has moved into Watcher mode. We both check out the room, looking for anything to help us in our search. The simple fact that Morag was apparently a witch before she was a Slayer doesn't necessarily help us, although it does leave me wondering whether she's actually a victim after all.

As I move towards the far end of the room, I catch something new. There's a warmth coming from the back wall, and I'm pretty sure it's not just sun-warmed. Something's been shielded – like Rack shielded his place back in Sunnydale. I feel for the source, finding it centred at the far left corner of the shed. I move forward, the apparently substantial wall anything but solid, and I'm in another shed, and this one goes right to the water's edge. More useful, is the fact that there's a boat inside.

I go back to find Gus looking around for me. I quickly explain what I've found, take him by the arm, and pull him through.

Interestingly, as soon as he's through, his whole demeanour changes, and his eyes light up.

"What?" I ask.

"That," he says, pointing at the boat. "Someone went to a lot of bother to hide it, so I'd say we should go for a little sail."

"Do you know anything about boats?" I ask. "I mean, I don't need to breathe, but I'm not going to last long in the sunshine if it sinks."

"I didn't ever mention that I spent my teens running around helping at one of the yacht clubs down this way, did I? You know, just general background stuff, but I learned a lot."

"No, you didn't."

"Always knew that particular skill'd come in handy."

He jumps on board, and starts checking things over. I get in too, and it's soon obvious that with a bit of help from a handy tarpaulin, I should be safe enough – as long as the boat's afloat

Within ten minutes, he's got the motor running, and everything's ready.

"Where d'you think we should go?" I ask. The logic that the boat's important is obvious, but that's as far as that logic takes me. Gus squints into the sunlight through the now open doorway at the water end of the shed.

"The island." He pulls the map from his pocket and points to it. Inchmore, it's called, and it's tiny – just a mile long, and it's down as being uninhabited.

"Good an idea as any," I agree, and get myself as comfortable as I can.

Gus keeps up a running commentary on what he's doing, and that helps. Not being able to see what's going on is making me feel uncomfortable. He's disappointed when he can't initially see anywhere to land, but he goes around the island for a bit, then I hear a cheer.

"There's a landing stage here. It's pretty crude, but it'll do. I'm going to pull to."

I let him do that, and when he suggests going to check out the area, there's not a lot I can do either, beyond lifting the tarpaulin a bit so I can see him leave. He's back quickly, though, with the news that there are caves in the cliff beyond. I look where he's pointing, pull the tarpaulin over me, and we make a dash for the nearest entrance.

The entrance is actually a small, narrow tunnel, and I'm just beginning to think that it's a red herring, when it opens out into a cavern about twice the total size of the cottage. It's dark, but with my vamp vision I spot some candles around the walls. I pull my lighter out of my pocket and start lighting a few, then take in the scene before me.

While the shed had been used for magic for years, this place doesn't have that feeling at all, but it has still been used. The collection of ingredients is fewer, and there's a table comprising a stone slab to which chains have been attached. It doesn't take a lot of imagination to realise that they're placed to hold a human being – probably a very strong human being.

There's blood too – the scent of it strongest around that slab, and it's unmistakeably Slayer blood.

I pick up one of the candles, and check out the edges of the cave, soon finding a smaller cave through a low arch. There are more chains inside – it looks to be a holding cell, although it couldn't have held more than three or four girls at a time.

I hear Gus' voice calling me, and as I turn to go to him, something glints in the corner, and I go to pick it up. It's a watch – dainty little thing, silver in colour, with a plain white face. I pick it up and go to find out what Gus has found.

He's bent over a small wooden crate, and I join him as he picks up some little vials, but there're no details on them. Underneath, he finds some unused syringes, still in sterile packaging.

"Looks like this could be where the Slayers were brought," he comments. "They could have been drugged, and then … some ritual done to remove their powers."

"Could be," I agree. "But, if that's what happened, then they've moved on. There's no way this place could cope with the volume they're dealing with now. And … it's been weeks since this place's been used."

"So, is Morag behind this?" he asks.

"Could be," I agree. "Certainly that shed's been used for bad mojo for generations."

We stand up, and I take another look over the place.

"I think we need a sample of anything we can find here. Those vials – anything in those jars over by the slab."

"I'll get that," he offers.

I take another look around, checking to see if I've missed anything. Gus looks up and squints at my hand.

"What's that?" he asks.

"It's a watch – it was over there," I point. "Probably where the girls were kept."

He abandons what he's doing and reaches for it.

"Recognise it?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says, softly. "It's Fiona's. She always complained that she couldn't tell the time with it. Her parents gave it to her for her birthday, but there's no numbers on it. Every time she was late for something, she blamed the watch."

I nod, and, leaving the watch with him, continue to check around the cavern. When I'm sure there's nothing right here, I pick up the tarpaulin again, and check outside.

Once there, the smell hits me. I can only assume I missed it last time because the wind has changed direction. I follow my nose, and it leads me to another cave entrance about fifty yards from the first. I go in, but it doesn't take long to spot the source.

It's a body, and if I had to guess, I'd say that a Fyarl was responsible. Trying to ignore the smell, I approach, taking in every detail I can, from approximate size and hair colour on one hand to visible injuries on the other. I do a quick search of clothing, but there's no identification there – not that I need it. There's enough similarity for me to be fairly certain who it is.

I head back to Gus who's appropriated the crate and filled it with samples of whatever he's found. One glance at me, and he knows I've found something.

"Looks like we're going to have to reconsider who's responsible," I say.

"Why? What've you found?"

He's moving towards the exit, hurrying to see it for himself. I put out a hand to stop him.

"She's dead, Gus. Long dead. There's nothing you can do."

"Dead? Who?"

"Morag. Our Slayer witch is dead. Beaten to death by the look of it."