Chapter 2
Wyngarde Castle, Welsh-English border
Morgan Le Fey arose from her bed. She padded over to the far side of her boudoir where a robe awaited her. Her back was adorned with a startling tattoo of a raven – diving as if ready to strike. It seemed almost alive as she breathed in and out.
She put on her robe and glanced back at her bed. The two men she had entertained were still there, but they were no longer smiling. Their faces contorted in terror, their lifeless bodies little more than grotesque shells. Their eyes were white, as if they had rolled backwards in the midst of what terrible pain had visited them.
She opened the door of her bedroom and entered a small antechamber where wine and fruit awaited her on a table. In the corner, a barely-clad servant tried to make herself as hidden as possible.
"Come here, wench." Ordered Morgan as she filled the crystal goblet with wine.
The young girl came forward, her arm still red from the newly acquired tattoo – a small raven in the same pose that adorned Morgan's back. She was terrified, the fear causing her hands to shake and her body to shiver uncontrollably. "You asked for me, my Lady?"
"Go and fetch Margaret!"
"At once, My Lady." The young girl turned and walked to the door as if some catastrophe would befall her if she didn't get out as quickly as possible.
Morgana sat in her chair, sipping wine and eating a newly skinned pear, listening to the footsteps of the young woman head towards Margaret's room. She enjoyed the sensation of power the fear of her subordinates gave her. She gained almost as much pleasure in watching them fear her as she did enticing young men, and sometimes women, to satisfy her more carnal desires. She could hear footsteps returning, quicker and slightly heavier than the ones that had left the room.
The door opened and Margaret entered. She was dressed not in the robes that the others had been, but in a modern business suit. She looked like an 80's power-dressed Yuppie, and she had the mannerisms and steely-gaze to add weight to the image. "You sent for me, My Lady?"
"Do we have news from our spies?"
"Yes. The Watchers Council has made contact with Rupert Giles. They plan to talk to the boy this very morning."
"Excellent. Tell the spies that they should send an assassin in and kill both in one go. Meanwhile, you and two men will retrieve whatever papers and books remain within the Merrick mansion. Merrick was smart enough to have hidden the clue in somewhere safe and I want it, plus any other documents in there."
"As you wish, my lady". Margaret bowed as she turned and left, heaving s sigh of relief that her visit had ended with her still alive.
Watcher's Council Headquarters, LondonThe Watchers Council's new building at Canary Wharf was a far more up-to-date affair than their previous home. The previous office had been a place steeped in tradition in a building hundreds of years old and immersed in the history of ages past. The new building was state of the art, with security and hospital facilities, with a helicopter to fly out to awaiting Council planes. The New Watchers Council was fighting a fully global war now, with Slayers at every major upheaval of demonic power, plus several more waiting and training back at the offices' huge training facilities.
Buffy had insisted on the changes. She knew that in order to meet the threat from all over the world, the Council had to expand it's thinking. To incorporate it's knowledge into the technological age. Giles had been cautious but understood and supported the changes, though others hadn't. Change had been slow in coming but when it happened it was impressive.
Rupert Giles was always in awe at how much things had changed since the Council re-established itself after the First's attack took out the original building. Although he was the first to admit to being dubious about technology he had seen the Council grow from being a "would be if only" society of well-meaning but stuffy bureaucrats with limited vision and scope to a modern agency tackling the world's problems from their many offices and using the most modern of technology to ensure that any place that saw a rise in supernatural activity was properly investigated and, if the source was a threat to mankind, eradicated.
There were still hotspots of trouble of course, and Slayers were there full time to aid the populace. But Giles had seen the rise in individual abuses of power, things that the Council didn't have the resources to deal with before but could be dealt with swiftly now. It had brought them into conflict with various Government agencies but at least some had, covertly, given the Council free reign when dealing with the supernatural menace. Thanks to Buffy being forward thinking, as well as Xander, Willow, Dawn and even Andrew, the Council was getting better at what it set out to do.
However, this was not without it's downside. The infirmary that they had was constantly filled with those people who were either Slayers or Watchers returning from missions battered and bruised, or civilians and military who were caught in the crossfire of something supernatural, where only the Council seemed willing, or able, to cure them. Also, it was no longer a case of watching one Slayer die, but hundreds. But, far more unsettling than even the loss of their soldiers, was the omnipresence of the forces of evil that had grown as if in direct competition to them. The legal firm of Wolfram & Hart, the firm that Angel and his friends had spent years battling with in Los Angeles, had recently opened up a flourishing business in London, gaining a glowing reputation for winning it's cases. Many a dubious sorcerer, necromancer or cultists from numerous sects and involved in all kinds of illegal and nefarious activities, had seen their cases dropped or dismissed thanks to the intervention of Wolfram & Hart. They had become the Council's own secret nemesis.
Willow stood in awe at the new facilities. She had been in Europe and South America and as such had never seen the new building, fully completed, before now. She had, like the rest of the Sunnydale alumni, believed that Watchers resided in some strange twilight zone where the 20th Century had successfully gone ahead without them. But now she was looking at the ground floor of a more modern, leaner machine that was ready to take its fight to the whole world.
She also noticed, as they walked through the main reception area to the doorway of the Watchers College and Slayer training area, that Dawn, dressed more conservatively than she was used to, was equally impressed by the pristine offices and hallways. She could also see that Dawn was becoming increasingly nervous as they approached the large double doors that were the main entrance to the college. As they approached Roger Wyndham-Price opened the door to greet them.
"Well, Miss Summers. Are you ready?" His tone was formal but pleasant, and he looked as if he was indeed genuinely pleased to be greeting her.
"I guess so. It isn't like, too difficult is it?"
"Not to worry. If you are as good as your sister and Mr Giles here say you are, then your participation here will be a mere formality, as will your graduation as Watcher."
Dawn hugged Willow and Giles, who both gave her smiles of 'Good Luck' as she went through the doors.
Roger, however, did not follow her and instead signalled to a young woman nearby. "Claire, please escort Miss Summers down to the test area so she may begin the written part of her exam. Good luck, Miss Summers."
Dawn left them there, nervous as they contemplated the tests ahead. Both Willow and Giles had gone through them and had done all they could to prepare her.
"I hope she'll be alright." Said Willow, her words wrapped in a tone of concern.
"She'll be fine. We've done all we can for her, now it's up to Dawn to show she can do it. We know she can, now she needs to know it." Giles' voice was calm and authoritative and Willow realised how much she missed him looking out for her as he used to in Sunnydale.
"If I may intercede, Rupert, there is the small matter of the boy to be dealt with." Roger had become serious now, the friendly tone was gone and in its place was his trademark sternness.
"What do you need me to do?" Asked Willow. Since being told of the emergency that morning Willow had wondered why she had been requested. Giles had told her about some magic being used at the mansion during the attack but she couldn't understand her needing to be here at this precise time.
"I'd like your opinion, Miss Rosenberg. We have only had a very vague description of the magic used in the Merrick home and I hoped that you could advise us."
"Well, if you want, but I thought Althanea or someone from the Coven would be much better than me at this."
"I'm afraid the Coven are….indisposed at the moment. But even so, your knowledge both as a practising witch and your skills as a Watcher makes you the perfect source for information and advice on this matter."
Willow was pleased. She had felt out of loop for some time now and was grateful for a chance to prove that she had something unique to offer the Council. She was dismayed that her holiday plans had gone awry but she had instead decided that, after this business was dealt with, she was going incommunicado for a few weeks for some well-earned rest.
She walked with Giles and Roger through several long and winding corridors. What is it with these places that they have to have winding corridors? Is it a requirement, she mused to herself.
They turned to walk down a corridor that she did know well. It was the Watchers private hospital and she was well aware how many lives had been saved in their many operating rooms and mystical halls. The smell was the standard smell of disinfectant but laced with the acrid smell of ozone from the many spells that were cast to facilitate fast healing, or to cure supernatural ills for which their was no known medical cure.
The three of them entered a private room, well illuminated by the bright daylight. There were metal bars across the windows outside but these were partially hidden from within by the lush curtains that hung by the window. The room was large and fitted the two larger than normal beds and still gave the patients the room to move within it with great ease. The room was cheerily decorated and one could be forgiven for believing that they had walked into a hotel room rather than a hospital one.
In the bed by the window was an old man, grumpily attempting to do his Times crossword whilst keeping one eye on the occupant in the bed opposite. He was shaking his head in frustration and Willow couldn't tell if it was because a clue had beaten him, or if the young man across from him had flicked one elastic band too many in his direction.
The young boy seemed to be fascinated by all around him and yet couldn't seem to focus his attention on any one thing for anything more than a few seconds. His expression positively beamed I'm bored, get me out of here. He spied Willow, and a huge smile appeared on his face. As Roger tried to attract the boy's attention, his stare remained fixed upon her, so much so that it irked Willow slightly. "Really the wrong person to get a crush on", she said under her breath, but not so silently that Giles didn't hear her. He chuckled slightly and Willow could see he was enjoying the irony of the situation.
Roger finally managed to meet the boy's gaze and he stopped smiling. "David, this is Rupert Giles. You said you wanted to speak to him. This is his associate, Miss Willow Rosenberg, she will be assisting Mister Giles in his enquiries."
David's face became sombre. Willow had become acutely aware that the stern expression seemed to be a Watcher's trait. Even their children seemed to pick it up. He looked up at Giles and extended his hand. "I am pleased to meet you, Mr Giles."
He then extended the same hand to Willow, "And you too, Miss Rosenberg."
He was trying to be grown up and not show the terrified child inside, But Willow saw it straight away. The boy, for all his well-educated words and manners, was still at his heart a frightened orphan. Willow's maternal clock seemed to "kick in", much as it had with Dawn when Buffy and Joyce had died. She wanted to hug David, to tell him the world would be okay again for him, but this was not the time, but it would be soon. She knew she would be needed for more than her abilities as a Witch and Watcher.
David turned back to face Giles once more. "I'm sorry for all the inconvenience I've caused the Council but my Dad's instructions were very specific. I was to find you and tell you that he wanted you to secure the journal. That there was a clue about it's whereabouts in the library."
The old man cleared his throat as he walked over beside David. He looked visibly ill, with pale skin and heavy eyes desperately wishing for sleep, but he was doing his best to stand tall beside the teenager. "What David says is true. I'm Whittaker, by the way", he said as he shook hands with Giles and Willow. "Mr Merrick was dying from a sword wound in the gut when I got to him. I only heard a few final words from Mr Merrick before he died. Mrs Merrick was already dead by this time."
David raised his hand, as if in school and trying to attract the attention of the teachers, when the large window that shone light into the room shattered inwards in a large explosion. One shard of glass flew with deadly accuracy into David's hand, forcing him to cry out in pain and crouch. The crouching, though instinctive, also saved his life. Part of the bars that protected the window flew behind the shard, but at a slightly higher elevation, which would have struck the boy, and possibly impaled him, in the head had his instinctive crouching not overtaken him.
The shards of glass and small missiles of steel bars flew around the room, searching randomly for targets in their blind quest to destroy all that lay in their path.
The glass tore at Willow's hands and legs as she crouched underneath the young patient's bed. She could hear Roger and Giles wincing with pain as they attempted to shield their guests from the shards. She looked up at the now shattered window-frame and at the hulking mass that obscured the Sun.
It was roughly 7 feet in height, but slim and humanoid. It's thinness however, made the powerful muscles on it's body all the more prevalent, muscles covered by what looked like a tough hide of leather. It was grey-green in colour, and it's eyes were a full and burning red, without pupils or apparently eyelids. Its mouth was slightly wider than a normal humans and Willow could see it open in a twisted smile to reveal that the teeth of this beast were long and pointed.
The creature leapt into the room with one graceful bound, fully clearing the space between the window and the bed where they had all congregated. Now Willow could see its hands, and the large talon-like claws that passed for fingers. There were five on each hand, including one where a human thumb would have been.
It picked Whittaker up off of the ground, knocking Giles out of the way as it did so. The backhanded swipe was so powerful that it lifted Giles clean off the ground by several feet, before he crashed into the hallway outside. Nurses and Doctors ran to Giles, whilst others seemed to leave with a more purposeful intention in mind.
Whittaker struggled against the beast's iron grip as it lifted him up to its head level. Its smile was cruel and thin as it squeezed tighter around the old man's throat, causing him to gasp and flounder in the air like a goldfish lifted out of its water.
The beast raised its right arm, keeping Whittaker tightly held in its left. And began to swing for his face. All at once the beast howled in pain as a blast of energy that came from somewhere below the young boy's bed impacted on its body with fiery intensity and cut through its arm, which dropped to the floor. The beast reeled in pain, dropping its victim from its chokehold and retreating slowly, in agony, to the window.
Willow Rosenberg rose from under the bed as if lifted by wings, and looked directly at the wounded demon before her. It seemed almost pitiful now, wounded and whimpering, and she wondered for a moment if it would merely die if she let it go. Her question was answered by the bellow of a demon whom she realised had not been retreating but merely regaining the initiative. She realised there was no one between the demon and the boy, and it leapt.
Willow shouted out words in some language that no human should have been fluent in. Her eyes and hair briefly turned pitch black and her hands crackled with electrical energy, a glowing black energy, if such a thing were possible. The energy now burst forward, exploding from Willow's fingertips and enveloping the demon's body. The energy laid siege to the beast as it dropped to the floor, reeling from pain that it could neither shield nor hide itself from. The energy entered it, turning the red, flaming eyes of the demons to a pale blue as it searched for weak spots. Electricity crackled from every orifice as it lay still, save for the twitching of its nervous system as the shocks continued unabated by their victim's demise.
Willow lowered herself on the floor, and looked back at the bed. Roger was shielding the boy, who cowered underneath him, sobbing. She wanted to scold the old man for doing nothing, but she felt that her anger was more to do with the spell than her own feelings. As the heat of the spell left her she saw the reason in his decision, her vision clearing as her eyes and hair returned to their native colour. The boy needed to be protected. Had she not been there, he would have died saving the boy.
She looked to the right side of the bed and saw that Whittaker had recovered enough of his breath to at least sit up, although his face was still a touch too red for her liking. As if on cue, the nurses entered, telling the Watchers to stand aside so they could attend to Whittaker and the boy.
Willow looked outside trying to see how such a beast could have arrived and not have been spotted. It was secluded, that was true, but the street beyond and the cameras at least should have given them a clue.
Several Watchers burst through the door, armed with swords and crossbows and stunned expressions. They took one look at the twitching corpse of the demon, then at Willow, and drew sensible conclusions rather than their weapons, lowering both them and their gaze.
Willow sighed, her reputation went before her in here and sometimes, that was not a good thing. "Its all right, ladies and gentlemen! Nothing to see here, unless of course you're interested in demon anatomy." She tried to make light of the situation, to diffuse it. Her attempt only partially succeeded.
She could see Giles walking through the door, looking visibly shaken. He had been lucky; having nothing more than a few bruises and a slight gash on his head and was arguing with a doctor over his right to leave.
"I am telling you that I am leaving, Doctor Cairns, whether you like it or not. If it makes you feel any better, I won't be operating heavy machinery any time soon."
Doctor Cairns was less than impressed, "Well, you know my feelings on this. I suppose if someone else were to drive you home then it would be okay but you must promise to get a good night's rest and see me tomorrow so I can check that you are 100".
Giles shook his head in defeat. "Very well. Willow knows where I live and as she was staying with me anyway she can drive me."
"Gonna charge you by the mile, Giles", said Willow, now fully relaxed and using the humour as a catharsis. She was glad the battle was over, and happier still that the 'dark mist' of hatred that had wrapped itself around her heart because of the magic she had used was gone too.
"Yes, well, I'm sure that the rent for staying at my house will more than cover it." Answered Giles in his usual, dry manner. "More important at the moment is ascertaining what the hell this thing is and why it was attacking us and how it got through our security?"
Roger by this time had straightened his tie and suit and was attempting to bring a little order back to proceedings. "Yes, good questions all. Thank you, Miss Rosenberg, for your quick thinking. You men take our 'guest' here down to the laboratory and start trying to find out what he is and if he had any way of naturally avoiding detection. Rupert, Do you have any further questions for young David here?"
"Yes I do. You were saying something about a library, David, and a clue, before we were so rudely interrupted. Please continue."
Willow could see that David was still visibly shaken from his ordeal but he seemed to steady himself when Giles asked his question.
"Yes, Father said he had left a clue as to the whereabouts of his private journal and files in the library at the house. He must have assumed that the thieves didn't find it or maybe they didn't see it as anything worth taking."
Giles sat beside the boy now, noticing that David was starting to shake, the shock of it all becoming all too real to him. "Is there anything else you can remember, anything at all?"
"He said that you were to find the entwined, the one without. That was all he said before he….." David's voice trailed off into a sob as the events of the past day finally caught up with him.
Willow instinctively went to him, placing her arms around him and allowing him to cry, which she knew he needed to do. More than anyone, she knew the pain, and the price, of not allowing yourself to grieve.
Whittaker cleared his throat. "Most of Mister Merrick's papers were in his safe. It may well have survived the blast. It was an old thing, set into the wall. I don't know the combination though. Only Mister Merrick did".
Giles removed his glasses, cleaning them in deep thought, as if the rubbing helped his cognitive abilities. "Thank you, David, you have been most helpful. I assure you that both Willow and myself will get to the bottom of all of this and we'll find out who is responsible for the death of your parents. I promise you."
David tried his best to choke and sniff back his tears as his head left Willow's shoulder. He smiled sheepishly at Willow, and nodded a quick "thank you" to her. He wiped his tear-stained eyes and looked at Giles. "Thank you, Mister Giles, I would like that very much."
Willow placed her hand gently on David's cheek, as Tara had done with her on many occasions when she was upset. "Don't worry, Giles here is the best. And I will do what I can. Do you have relatives to stay with or are you staying here?"
"Nana Harkness is coming to collect me later on. She's terribly upset and Uncle Gabe is flying in from Massachusetts, so I will be alright, I think."
Giles looked at David, shocked at the name being mentioned, "And when did you speak to your Uncle?" he inquired with a tense smile.
"Last night. He's not my real Uncle, of course, but he is a good family friend and I knew he would want to know."
Giles and Roger looked at each other, tension locking their stares together for several moments. "Well, I'm sure that will be nice for you." Said Giles, hesitantly.
Willow's head was reeling, the name was so unexpected, and it had taken her a few seconds for her mind to regain anything resembling coherent thought. "Are you talking about Althanea Harkness? Head of the Devon Coven?"
"Yes. You know Nana Harkness?" was David's excited reply.
"I was a student of hers, a few years back. Are you Michelle's son?"
"Yes, he is, Willow." Said Giles, attempting to break the line of questions. "One of the reasons why Althanea and the Coven are of no use in this instance. She is too close to it. Her emotions would counter any spell she decided to do to aid us, and we cannot afford a slip up here, especially after this attack."
"Do understand, Miss Rosenberg, that you are still our main source for information. But the Coven are necessarily indisposed at the moment and as such it is doubly important that your expertise be sought." Roger's tone was mildly apologetic, but he had the Council to think of and the over-riding concerns at hand, rather than the feelings of any one person. Willow respected that.
"I just wish you had been clear from the start." She said, feeling somewhat deflated.
"I had hoped that Althanea would tell you herself, as I still feel its the family's place to deliver such news. But from now on, all information will be given to you. I'm sure you will wish to talk to Miss Harkness when she arrives."
"We will." Said Giles, again eager to reclaim his authority. Although he never doubted Willow in the field, his automatic reaction was to take charge, if for no other reason than seniority. But he also knew how much the Coven meant to Willow, and how much damage she was capable if the hurt was allowed to fester in her mind. He trusted her, but he also knew her.
Willow was a little hurt by Giles' determination to cut into the conversation, but she knew why. No matter how much self-control she had, there would always be that small part of her that could trigger a full-scale dark wrath. The Coven had been good to her, helping her deal with the remorse and guilt, but also in helping her find a way of coping without her one anchor – Tara. But as David had mentioned Althanea's name she could feel the dark rising, and was equally sure that Giles had seen it rise too. He's being cautious, she thought, I just wish he didn't feel the need to.
Giles looked across at David, mind racing. "I think, under the circumstances, that David and Whittaker should come with us. There is no guarantee that he will be safe here, not if another of those demons, or something even stronger, decides to call."
Roger nodded in compliance. He had learned from Quentin Travers that Giles was a steely-souled man when it came to getting his way. "Very well. I will send down three Watchers tomorrow to help keep guard of the boy. What's your first move?"
"Sleep. Tomorrow I want to look at the Merrick home and see if I can find this clue that David's been talking about."
"I'll have the Watchers meet you at the Merrick home then. You best go now, before the doctors become even more enraged."
Willow held out her hand to David. "Don't worry, you'll be safe with us. Giles and I won't let anything happen to you." Her smile was sweet and her voice soft. She wanted David to trust her, as he was finding it hard to comprehend the savagery around him.
David smiled nervously, and nodded. He placed his hand in Willow's and left with her.