The Price of the Wish

by Robert2

Cordelia thinks before she wishes, but not deeply enough. She returns to the day Buffy first arrived, confident her foreknowledge will guarantee a perfect life, only to find events slowly spiralling downwards as new enemies stir the darkness.

9. Cordelia's Ghost: The morning after

It was eight AM when Cordelia stepped into the library the next morning, much earlier than she had intended.

Xander looked up. "You too?"

Cordelia nodded. Xander looked as bad as she felt and Willow no better. Their postures radiated bone-deep exhaustion, their faces were haggard, and their eyes were haunted by the memory of horror.

"What about Harmony?" Willow asked. "She was with us when ..."

Cordelia sighed. "I phoned her earlier. She said she hadn't had any dreams."

"Lucky her." Xander said. "She was sleeping when that thing came."

"Is she normally awake this early?" Willow asked.

Cordelia slowly shook her head as she sat down.

"It could just be a coincidence." Cordelia said quietly, hoping she was right. After the way Harmony had acted the previous night Cordelia had little sympathy left for her, but no one deserved the nightmares Cordelia had suffered. Not even Angelus would have deserved to suffer so.

Buffy looked sympathetically at the scoobies. "You shouldn't have to go through this. None of you should. Giles was right. You shouldn't be involved. You should have stayed away from me."

Seeing where Buffy was going Cordelia quickly interrupted, glad for the distraction. Dealing with Buffy's problem, comparatively trivial though it was, might at least get her mind away from the nightmares for half a moment.

"Owen only died because you dated him. His death is your fault. Right?"

Buffy nodded.

"Wrong." Cordelia said firmly. She'd seen Buffy like this before, after one of her rare failures, wracked by doubt, blaming herself for half the world's ills. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"Owen's death is no one's fault." Cordelia said, trying to remember how Buffy had been cheered up those other times.

That wasn't strictly true. Cordelia knew Owen wasn't supposed to have died so his death had to be the fault of whatever was changing history for the worse but she couldn't tell Buffy that nor would it have helped if she could have. Buffy would only have ignored logic and blamed everything on Cordelia, even though that would be completely unfair.

Buffy frowned. "He wouldn't have died if-"

"If he'd ducked when Willow told him to, if Angel had spotted him following us, if his parents had moved away, if, if, if..."

Cordelia looked at Buffy, trying to judge her reaction. She was copying something she half remembered Giles saying once, but what worked for him might not work for her.

Cordelia sighed, then tried to look patient. "If's don't matter. Ytwomj killed Owen, no one else. You didn't do anything wrong. You just did the best you could."

"It wasn't good enough." Buffy persisted.

"You'll do better next time." Willow said, smiling weakly.

"Don't waste time brooding." Cordelia added. "Revenge is much more satisfying. Make Ytwomj pay, and pay."

Buffy nodded slowly then changed the subject. "You have nightmares too?"

Cordelia shuddered, remembering the terrors that had wracked her sleep.

"You did." Buffy said softly. "Why?"

Xander looked up. "That shadow thing was really ugly."

Cordelia frowned. There had to be more to it than that. She'd had nightmares before, but nothing like this. Those other nightmares had been a natural response to the horrors she had seen, shadowy fears bubbling up from her subconscious mind that vanished as quickly as any other dream on waking. Not one of them had been even half as frightening as the reality.

Last night had been different. Every last horrific detail of that nightmare was engraved on her mind as indelibly as the memory of Xander's betrayal. She would never be able to forget the blank look in her father's eyes as he coupled with a rotting corpse, the sound of Xander's laughter as he juggled the severed heads of three women, the blissful smile on her mother's face as she devoured the heart of her firstborn son, or any of the myriad other ghastly vignettes that had formed the backdrop to her nightmare.

Cordelia wrenched her mind away from the nightmare parade. She would never forget the things she had seen beneath the branches of the shadow tree, but she would not let herself spend all her time dwelling on them either.

"You dreamed about that?" Buffy said. "All of you? I had a slayer dream."

Willow shuddered again, then quietly said, "Not just that. I saw other things, terrible things."

She paused, clearly searching for the right words. "I was shown all the evils that gnaw at the human heart, all the crimes of which we might be capable, in full colour with surround sound. I could even smell the blood, but that was not the worst of it. There were other creatures moving in the darkness, savouring the fruits of human malice, creatures-"

For a moment Willow's face was contorted in abject terror, then she quickly changed tack. "That don't belong in my dreams. I don't think these were normal dreams. I think the shadow creature sent them."

Cordelia half-smiled at the good news. She had been assuming the nightmare had been the product of her twisted subconscious, an assumption which had led to uncomfortable speculation about her mental stability, but if the nightmare had been sent from outside she didn't have any reason to worry.

"Makes sense." Xander replied. "We have to tell Giles."

"He's still on the phone." Buffy said. "Talking to his people in England."

Cordelia looked at the table. "Tell Giles what? 'Nasty monster gave us bad dreams?' What can he do anyway? You saw how powerful the shadow creature is."

Giles himself had said it had to be of godlike power but, if even half Cordelia's dreams had been true, that was a major understatement.

"Giles has all these weird books." Xander said, looking at the shelves. "He might know something."

Willow nodded. "Did you hear the whispering? I didn't recognise the language but Giles will, if I can just remember the words. That'll help him identify the creature."

Cordelia shuddered, remembering the half-heard whispers that had underlain her nightmares. Words murmured in an alien tongue, they should have gone unnoticed amidst the images of terror.

They hadn't.

Though the words had meant nothing to her the language of the whispers had transcended words. Like a mushroom growing within a rotting log understanding of the whispers had grown within the darkest recesses of her mind, then suddenly erupted into the light, and Cordelia had woken whimpering.

It had been almost an hour before she'd found the courage to get out of bed.

"You heard that too?" Xander said, looking at Willow. "What about the laughter?"

"Laughter?" Buffy said sharply, "Was it sniggering?"

"No." Xander replied, "This was, um, it wasn't bad. It was laughing at the badness. It was nice but in a not good way."

Xander hesitated. "It was like chocolate sprinkled over a rotten egg."

Cordelia looked closely at Xander. He did seem slightly less haggard than Willow, not quite so burdened by all the sorrows of the world, but why should he have suffered less?

"I remember now." Willow said tremulously. "Not much of it but enough for Giles, I hope. These are not comfortable words to remember."

Her face ashen, Willow turned to face Buffy then quietly said "Burzum angor korateng burzumengat valash leng."

The light dimmed, swiftly fading to a dull red glow, and the room changed.

Bone spiders scuttled over a floor paved with human skulls, dodging the pools of blood and slime. There were faces bulging from the walls, screaming in agony as blood gushed from their eyes, and the ceiling was a slender lattice of branches silhouetted against a crimson sky. Snakes slithered through those branches, snakes and other creatures less wholesome.

From the shadows there came a whispering, as of a myriad flies swarming over a fresh corpse.

Cordelia frowned. She had seen worse in her nightmares, things that made the warped library seem hardly more unpleasant than Snyder, but this was still disturbing. If any untrained witch could accidentally warp the world with a half-remembered spell then reality was even more fragile than she had realised.

Cordelia looked at her friends, hoping for reassurance, then sighed. They too seemed changed.

Xander was wearing clown makeup, half a dozen bells on blue silk ribbons, and very little else, a bizarre outfit even for someone with Xander's fashion antisense. Xander did look jaw-droppingly sexy, with his normally well-hidden physique on full display, but he should also have looked ridiculous. Instead he looked dangerous, like a tiger lolling in the sun. This was a glimpse of Xander as he had been in her nightmares; neither good nor evil, all he wanted was to be amused but his humour was as twisted as the room. This Xander could strangle a woman with her new-born child's intestines then turn around to rescue a kitten from a burning tree, and would rank both deeds of equal worth. At least demons were predictable.

Buffy looked no better. She looked like a killer, conscienceless as a cat. She was so encrusted in mud and gore that Cordelia couldn't begin to tell what Buffy was wearing but in her left hand she held a spear, its point dripping blood, and around her neck was fastened a string of teeth. Without friends, without family, this Buffy walked alone, living only for the kill. A slayer unfettered by human emotion, free of morality and shame, she was death walking, and nothing of this world could stand against her.

The whispering drew closer, rousing the memories of nightmare, and the room writhed, growing ever more vile.

Willow was shrouded in yards of black velvet, studded with diamonds. In her left hand she clutched an ancient tome, caressing it with as much love as Cordelia had once thought she had for Xander, which was normal enough for Willow. Her face wasn't. Only a few scraps of withered skin still clung to her skull, maggots crawled on her rotting tongue, and over her head lay the shadow of an iron crown. In her right eye socket a ruby slowly spun, but in her left only shadows lay. This was the Willow Cordelia had seen hang herself from the shadow tree. Love, humanity, her very soul, this Willow had sacrificed them all to feed her obsession. Nothing of Willow now remained, save the hunger that had consumed her, but still her empty husk walked the world, a master of every magic in thrall to its own dreams.

Cordelia thought quickly. If everything else looked like a watered down version of her nightmares, what must she look like? She had felt like her normal self in her own dream, but the shadow tree wouldn't have let Xander dream about anything so pleasant.

There were words in the whispering now, hovering at the edge of comprehension, words Cordelia did not want to hear, not after the effect Willow's six words had produced.

Cordelia looked slowly down at her hands, then shivered. Her hands were still beautiful but it was not a human beauty. Her skin was covered in iridescent scales, her little fingers were blood-red claws, and her other fingers had been replaced by two sets of tentacles, bonelessly supple.

The whispering resolved into a single voice, gentle as a scalpel brushing the throat.

Cordelia cowered, anticipating horror.

The voice spoke.

"A dark sun shall rise to shadow the brightest star"

There was a moment of silence, then daylight returned.

Cordelia looked around. The room looked as if nothing had happened, which would be good if true. Cordelia didn't like illusions, they were just another way of tricking her, but there were some things worse than being tricked.

Her friends were back to normal too, by their standards. Really normal people wouldn't be seen dead in Xander's shirt.

For a moment they all sat frozen then Xander smiled at Willow. "Great special effects but no plot. Hollywood will love you."

Cordelia half-smiled, then looked at the office door. She'd expected Giles to be out by now, stammering explanations. Did he even know anything had happened or had the visions been confined to the main library?

Pale-faced and trembling, Buffy stared at Xander. "Y-you're joking? H-how?"

Xander shrugged. "The dreams were worse."

Cordelia nodded. Compared with the dreams the vision had only been mildly unnerving, but it still shouldn't have happened.

"Worse?" Buffy gasped, her voice quivering. "There's a worse? How much worse?"

Xander leaned forwards. "I saw my mother burning Giles alive on a pile of his own books. She laughed as ..."

Cordelia stopped listening. Telling Buffy about the nightmares wouldn't help, it would just give her something else to feel guilty about. What they actually needed was an explanation, and a way to stop the nightmares recurring. What they actually needed was Giles, but rather than doing anything useful he was just chatting with his English friends, watchers who had been completely useless in the original history.

True, this time round they had deigned to tell Giles about some useful stuff, such as the fancy seal he'd used to lock up the soulstorm, though they'd only done that little because the thought of Omega had them running scared, but even if they did happen to be telling Giles something important surely it could wait.

Giles needed to get his priorities right. Buffy and Cordelia should come first, the other scoobies second, and the Council a distant third. In fact, if Giles had been doing his duty properly, explaining last night rather than chatting with his friends, he would have stopped Willow repeating the words and Cordelia wouldn't have been subjected to that unpleasant experience.

Just as Buffy was starting to look queasy Giles dashed out of his office with several folders clutched to his chest, holding a single slim folder at arms length.

"What spoke?" Giles asked hurriedly, before he even reached the table. "Did you see it?"

Buffy smiled with obvious relief. "The vision? Yes. You know what-"

"No." Giles interrupted. "Before that. There will have been strange words. Did you see what spoke them?"

"Um," Willow said apologetically, half-raising her hand. "That was me, but I didn't know they'd do that."

"You!" Giles gasped. "How? Where did you hear those words?"

"In my nightmares." Willow replied. "We all did, except Buffy. Were they a spell?"

"They were in the midnight tongue," Giles explained. "The primal language of black magic. What nightmares?"

"A spell?" Cordelia said hastily, not wanting to hear another rehashing of the nightmares. "Were we really changed?"

Giles hesitated. "Yes, and no. Nothing physically changed, but what we saw was as real as love or death. To speak the midnight tongue is to open a channel into the outer darkness, a channel through which the power of Omega can flow into the world. Fortunately, since Willow had neither the knowledge of how to focus that power nor any intention of doing so, the power was dissipated near harmlessly. Even so, while the sound of the midnight tongue lingered the shadow of Omega lay upon we who had heard it, and we saw what Omega would have us believe to be the true nature of the world."

"That's bad, right?" Xander asked.

"It's catastrophic, perhaps even apocalyptic." Giles said as he put the pile of folders down then carefully placed the slim folder in the centre of the table.

Recognising the danger signs, Cordelia edged her chair backwards.

"Willow, " Giles continued, "has just set off the thaumaturgical equivalent of an atom bomb on top of the hellmouth, only hours after something ripped open a death gate within its umbra. The damage done to the hellmouth seals is incalculable; at the very least we must expect another increase in demonic activity, but we could well be facing a complete failure of the local causal nexus."

Cordelia had spent enough time with the Scooby gang to know what that meant. The end of the world was nigh, again.

"Great," Cordelia said, looking wearily up at Giles. "And all because you were too busy chatting with the council."

"But what did we actually see?" Buffy asked, looking speculatively at Xander's chest. "Why was he wearing bells? Is it a prophecy?"

"Bells?" Giles echoed, looking puzzled. "Interesting. What you should have seen was a manifestation of Xander's potential for evil. I'm not entirely sure how bells fit in."

"So that was what we'd look like, if we went over to the dark side?" Willow said hesitantly. "It was difficult to see the details in my dreams. All that blood got in the way. Um, what did I look like?"

"Hungry." Buffy said. "And half dead. Black is not your colour."

Cordelia looked at Giles. "So if Buffy stops washing her hair we'll have to-"

Cordelia stopped. What could they do if Buffy went bad?

"The clothes were principally symbolic." Giles said as he sat down. "And it wasn't a prophecy per se."

"You mean Cordelia isn't going to run around naked." Xander said, sounding almost disappointed.

Reminded of her dreams, Cordelia shuddered

"You had scales, and horns." Willow said quickly, elbowing Xander. "He didn't see anything. Was it a warning?"

"More a threat." Giles replied. "You saw the worst you could become, but only if you make the choices Omega wants you to make. It need never happen. What did Buffy look like?"

"Savage." Xander said, "but not as bad as in our nightmares."

"They can't have been normal nightmares," Giles noted, "not if you heard the midnight tongue."

"That's why I repeated those words." Willow said. "So you'd know something weird had happened."

"You certainly proved that." Giles said. "Couldn't you have waited?"

"Why should we have?" Cordelia asked. "You knew we were out here. England can wait."

Giles sighed. "I was talking to Dame Margo fforbes-Hamilton, a member of the board. If I ended the conversation before she was ready she would not have been pleased."

"So what?" Cordelia asked flippantly. "You can always apologise later. We needed you five minutes ago."

Personally Cordelia didn't think Giles would have had anything to apologise for, but she remembered what Giles had said about the board before. They were the people who had stopped the council interfering with Giles, after spending ages interrogating Cordelia and the others. Giles had to be polite to them, or they might let the council off its leash.

"Dame Margo has never been an easy woman to say 'No' to," Giles replied, "and in the current circumstances that would have been particularly unwise."

Giles hesitated, looking thoughtful, then smiled. "Dame Margo had, um, certain questions she needed to ask me concerning recent events. Had I given any excuse for not answering them in full, even attending to the needs of the slayer, that could have been considered evidence of, um, a capital crime."

Surprised, Cordelia looked at Giles, then flinched. Giles looked just like he had when he had convinced Buffy to kill herself so he might enjoy her corpse.

Cordelia closed her eyes and counted to ten. That was not a real memory, just another short scene from her nightmare. She had to remember that, remember the difference between reality and nightmare, or she'd spend the rest of her life afraid to breathe.

Cordelia forced the nightmare memory aside, then looked carefully at Giles.

Had he really suggested that the council might have killed him just for being rude? She'd expect that from the Master, but not from the council. They were supposed to be good guys.

"Why? What circumstances?" Willow asked.

Giles began cleaning his glasses. "Dame Margo said the council have decided, despite her most strongly worded recommendations to the contrary, that I should say nothing unless you happened to ask me a direct question."

"Willow just did." Cordelia pointed out, not bothering to mention that Giles had provoked the question. He wasn't normally deliberately indirect, but it sounded he might have good reason.

Cordelia looked speculatively at Giles. He had good reason to be indirect, but only if he wanted to talk to them about the council, which he had never done before. He'd mentioned it, sure, but only when he'd absolutely had to. Why had he chosen now to start talking?

Now that she thought about, while Giles seemed to be his normal unemotional self, there were subtle signs that something was troubling him in a way the hellmouth never had. No one else would have noticed, but Cordelia had spent long enough in the library to recognise all the different ways Giles cleaned his glasses.

"The activist factions have rebelled against the council, which puts us all in additional danger."

Xander looked at Giles. "Why? Aren't they all good guys?"

Cordelia smiled patiently at Xander. "If they're fighting each other they can't help us."

Since they'd been completely useless the first time round, that was a big no change, good news for Cordelia. The closer everything stayed to the original history, the easier it would be for Cordelia to stay in control of the changes.

Giles frowned. "That's not the only problem. The rebels feel the board has been too passive in its response to the current crisis."

"You mean last night." Cordelia interrupted. Giles kept forgetting he wasn't speaking to a bunch of stuffed shirts.

"No." Giles said. "Well, not precisely. Last night is part of it, but concern has been building since the future changed. The board quelled dissent when they interviewed you, but last nights events precipitated an unprecedented rebellion."

Giles paused. "Normally, dissident factions confine their actions to bureaucratic infighting and selective deafness but Travers and his people spilled blood in the council chambers."

Giles scowled. "He actually spilt blood in our inner sanctum, a place inviolate since its building. It doesn't matter how vigorous the debate got, there's no excuse for that. He could have resigned at any time, and been free to do as he liked. The council would not have given him any support but neither would they have tried to hinder him. But, no, he lacked the courage of his convictions. Unwilling to stand alone he tried to force the council to support him, an unforgivable crime."

Giles looked apologetically at Buffy. "The wet squads will hunt him down, and everyone suspected of supporting him That's why I had to tread carefully with Dame Margo."

Xander looked confused. "Can you say that again, in English, not whatever language they speak in-"

"England." Giles said, smiling slightly. "When the death gate opened-"

Willow raised her hand. "Um, what's a death gate."

"A permanent portal to one of the afterlives. Last night the shadow creature you saw ripped one open, from the outside. That's what caused the soulstorm."

Cordelia frowned. That did not sound like good news.

"So it's a gateway to hell?" Willow said, shivering. "You mean we've got another hellmouth?"

"No." Giles said quickly. "This is different."

"How?" Willow asked.

"Whereas-" Giles began.

"Do we really need to know the details?" Cordelia said, before Giles could get theoretical.

Giles half-smiled. "Not all of them. You do need to know what a death gate does but I can explain that later, after I've answered Xander's question."

Cordelia nodded. Giles and Willow might find the theory fascinating. No one else did.

"Anyway," Giles continued, "when the death gate opened there was another burst of omens and portents. Travers seized the opportunity to call an emergency session while the board was otherwise occupied."

"Tell us what he actually wanted to do." Cordelia said quickly, before Giles could start describing the council's bureaucracy.

"He proposed the impeachment of the current board for incompetence, and his election as its new chairman. He and his cronies said they would open the Ragnarok Vault and kill every demon in Sunnydale. It might only have been a negotiating position but it gained the support of many of the younger members."

And rightly so, Cordelia thought. Travers would certainly have won her vote.

"- can do that?" Buffy was asking. "Why don't they?"

"It wouldn't just be the demons who died. Dame Margo says the Ragnarok Vault contains weapons with which one man can stand against an army, weapons that can smash mountains to rubble and boil oceans dry."

"Cool." Xander said. "The Master will be toast."

"No." Giles said firmly. "You don't use heavy artillery for pest control. The Ragnarok Vault is the board's last resort, to be used only when all else has failed, when the old ones have reduced the cities of men to charnel houses and built their thrones upon the smouldering ruins."

"In case of apocalypse, break glass." Willow summed up.

"After the last minute." Cordelia added sourly.

OK, the vault meant that if the demons won they wouldn't live long enough to enjoy the victory party, which was some consolation, but Cordelia would still have lost, a completely unacceptable outcome.

Giles frowned. "I was not entirely without reservations when Dame Margo informed me of this policy but consider this. There are over ten thousand near apocalypses recorded in the council's archives. The board did not think any of them worth opening the Vault for, and they were right every single time."

Giles smiled. "Of course, if the board had told the council about their secret vault it would have been used by now."

Buffy looked at Giles. "Why tell us about weapons we can't use?"

"Travers proposed using them on Sunnydale." Giles said. "After seeing last night's omens, and learning of the photos, many of the younger watchers agreed with him. It may be that-"

"But you said people would die." Willow interrupted. "How could they agree to that?"

"At first Travers avoided mentioning the likely death toll," Giles explained. "But when Miss Kimberthwaite's persistent questioning forced him to admit how many would be killed he said 'better a few million than billions'. Shortly afterwards the fighting started."

Cordelia smiled inwardly. That explained why Giles seemed slightly troubled. His old friends were fighting each other, maybe even killing each other. Everything he had spent his adult life working for was in jeopardy, and there was nothing he could do. Cordelia would have been seething but Giles was English; he vented steam so quietly only someone with Cordelia's superlative people skills would have noticed.

If Giles had been one of her friends she would have taken him out for some retail therapy but overt sympathy would only embarrass him. No doubt he'd prefer it if she just listened, and he might let some useful information slip.

"Must be bad omens." Xander said quietly.

Giles nodded. "At 10:06 PM, Sunnydale time, there was a magnitude four earthquake."

"That all?" Cordelia said. "They happen every few months."

"Nothing by Californian standards" Giles conceded, "but this earthquake was felt as strongly in Surrey as Sunnydale. Nor was that all. In that moment, many of the world's most sacred sites were defiled."

"Like the synagogues and churches here." Willow said. "Why?"

"Not quite," Giles corrected. "The consecrated buildings of Sunnydale were destroyed because they were within its unholy aura. The board believes the holy places were defiled during an attempt to sunder our world from the powers that be. Had it succeeded nothing could have kept the shadow entity from perverting our world, swiftly making real the vision we just saw."

"But it failed." Xander said. "We saw it running away."

Giles smiled. "The powers that be, um, slammed the door in its face, thrusting it back into the outer darkness."

"So why the panic?" Cordelia asked. "And what has this got to do with us."

"The rebel watchers will be coming here."

"I'm guessing they're not coming for the night life." Willow said. "Um, not the human night life, that is. They will be killing vampires, but if that were all they were coming here for you wouldn't be worried so they must be planning something else. What?"

Giles nodded. "They are planning to put into practice the policies they advocated."

"What policies?" Xander asked.

Cordelia tried to remember what Giles had been saying. The rebels wanted to help Buffy kill demons, which was good, but they considered innocent casualties acceptable which was fine, in principle; if a few strangers had to die so that Cordelia, and the rest of the world, could live then let them die.

Giles looked at Xander, sighed, then began patiently explaining the rebel's policies.

Unfortunately, from what Giles had said, it sounded like the rebel watchers might be willing to let her die, which would be completely unacceptable. Even if they didn't, they'd certainly get in the way, making even harder for her to make history follow her script.

There wasn't anything Cordelia could do about them though. She'd just have to hope the other watchers kept the rebels away from Sunnydale.

"-consider such deaths deeply regrettable, but necessary for the greater good. The board disagrees." Giles said. "The other danger is that some of the rebels will try to void the new prophecies by removing you three from consider-"

Giles suddenly paused and looked thoughtfully at Xander. "Bells. Did you hear, um, portentous laughter?"

Willow nodded. "He did, in his nightmares, but not part of them. You mean they'll want to kill us, right?"

"No, they just want you three on separate continents. The standard tactic would be to try to bribe your parents to get them to leave Sunnydale. Did you hear this laughter too?"

"No, just Xander. Why-"

"Describe it." Giles said.

As Xander repeated his description Cordelia quickly thought. Bribing Xander's parents would be easy enough but her own parents would be much harder to shift. If some stranger offered her father a million dollars to move he'd just assume they were trying to cheat him out a two million dollar opportunity. Besides, Giles obviously didn't have much money, or he'd have a better car, so the rebels couldn't have much either, and certainly not enough to bribe her parents, unless they'd stolen it.

"Did the rebels steal much?" Cordelia asked, interrupting Xander.

"Part of our library." Giles said sourly. "Five minutes after Travers escaped the building he returned with a dozen removal vans. While most of the rebels were fighting the loyalists hand to hand in the council corridors, Travers and his cronies absconded with some of the more important texts, and the card catalogue. The board suspects a conspiracy."

Well, obviously. Cordelia had heard enough business gossip while gracing her father's social functions to recognise an attempted boardroom coup. Travers had probably been planning his rebellion ever since Cordelia's interview with the board had convinced them to veto Travers's proposal to interfere.

"Did they steal anything useful?" Buffy asked.

"They broke into one of the vaults where dark magic weapons are stored."

"They'd be bad, right?" Willow interrupted. "Why have you got bad weapons? How dangerous are they? They can't be too bad or they'd be in the Ragnarok Vault, but if they were harmless you wouldn't be bothered."

"Stored until we find out how to safely destroy them. The stock inventory is missing so we don't know what Travers took. We do know the items in there were of only moderate power, capable of putting their wielders on a par with the slayer but no more than that."

Xander looked at Giles, flinching slightly. "What about my dream? The laughter, remember? Isn't that important?"

"Ah, yes, that." Giles said, then hesitated. "If it is pigs can fly."

Not, Cordelia noticed, an unambiguous denial. There were stranger things than flying pigs, here on the hellmouth.

Willow looked thoughtful but Buffy shrugged the issue aside.

"You're telling me that there'll be dozens of watchers running amok in the streets with magic weapons?" Buffy said, looking disbelievingly at Giles.

"Not this week." Giles said. "The police have been misinformed, which will make it harder for the British rebels to leave the country. We shall have a few weeks to prepare for their arrival. Nor will they be running amok. They want to fight but not to die. Without the overwhelming advantage the Ragnarok vault would have provided them they can be expected to fight the way they have been trained, with the pen not the sword."

Giles smiled. "Most likely, Travers will seek to infiltrate local government, reducing the mayor to a figurehead and gaining control of the police, then arm the police with magic and let them fight pitched battles with the vampires. It's an attractive tactic, if you aren't worried about the death toll."

Willow trembled slightly as she looked at Giles. "Why did they panic? I know you said omens, but they've seen omens before. What was so bad about these?"

Giles hesitated. "Do any of you listen to the morning news?"

Willow frowned. "My mom had the radio on. They were saying something about, um- Riots? Mass hysteria? I couldn't listen to it too long, not after what I saw my dad doing with it, in my dreams I mean. Real dreams, not figurative. Did it do that?"

Xander patted Willow's arm reassuringly as Giles nodded. "Most of those sacred sites defiled have been abandoned but some are still revered today."

Giles looked nervously at Willow. "Of those, the best known is the wailing wall."

Willow leaned forwards, staring intently at Giles.

"At the instant of the tremor the words Willow quoted were engraved on the wall, in the Arabic script."

"Why?" Willow snapped, her face pale with fury. "How dare-"

"The script isn't important," Giles hastily interrupted. "It was used as a cruel joke. It wouldn't matter what alphabet the words were written in; it is the sound of the midnight tongue that taps into the outer darkness, not mere arbitrary human representations of it."

"So it's OK to write it down?" Cordelia asked, wondering what it would take to make Giles speak plain English.

Giles nodded. "The problem is that people keep reading it, which isn't doing much for the city. The other sites similarly defiled we can temporarily conceal but hiding the wailing wail from public view is less practical. We may need to demolish it."

Cordelia looked at Willow, wondering what her problem was. Giles had mentioned Arabic, so this wall was probably in the middle east, maybe Baghdad or Cairo, but why would Willow be concerned about those places?

"You can do that?" Willow said, sounding shocked. "You can't do that! I mean, I'm not observant, but I know how important it is to those who are. Destroying something that holy, it wouldn't be right. Can't you just erase it."

"If we had time," Giles conceded. "Time, and enough privacy to perform the ceremonies necessary to cleanse the stones of the taint of the shadow creature. You only spoke a few brief words in the midnight tongue, and we all saw what effects that had, despite our being under the protective umbrella of the lesser seal. Can you imagine what it must be like to spend nine hours under its shadow, completely unprotected.?"

Cordelia could, now.

Buffy shuddered. "Destroy it."

Willow started to object, but Cordelia was only half listening.

In the morgue she had realised something had to be altering history for the worse, but she had assumed it was probably just another demon, nothing she couldn't cope with.

Now, though, Cordelia knew better.

Before, in the original history, nothing this bad had ever happened. There'd been a few deaths, well maybe a few hundred, but nowhere outside Sunnydale had been affected. Even in Sunnydale things hadn't been too bad, the school paper might have an obituary column but property prices were low. Even in the worst years nearly three-quarters of the deaths were from natural causes, which were better odds than smoking would give.

This time round things had been changed, and not in ways she wanted. An entire city had been plunged into a living nightmare, from a distance of ten thousand miles, and they hadn't even been targeted.

This wasn't just bad luck or demonic mischief. This was an evil that dwarfed everything she had seen before, power on a scale that could only be called godlike.

Cordelia sighed. Demons weren't a real problem, especially not with the advantage her wish had given her, but a god would be a much tougher proposition.

Still, whatever dark god was to blame hadn't done anything until she had made her wish. That must mean it had been unable to act without her, so it had a weakness. It also made her partially responsible for its actions.

She would just have to take care of this meddling god before she could enjoy the benefits of her wish. It wouldn't be easy but Cordelia was sure she'd think of something.

"-the only evidence, Travers might not have been so successful." Giles was saying. "But there were also the photos."

Giles paused, looked nervously at the slim folder, then pulled a pair of silk gloves out of his breast pocket.

"Photos of the wall?" Willow asked, staring intently at the folder. "Um, you said those words were written there. Photos of them aren't dangerous, are they?"

"No," Giles said quickly. "Not of the wall."

Cordelia watched warily as Giles put the gloves on, then pulled a slender pair of tongs and a matchbox out of his jacket pockets. She had no idea what Giles was planning, but he clearly thought it was dangerous.

Giles tossed the matchbox to Buffy. "When I show you the photo, burn it. The rest of you, sit well back."

Cordelia edged her chair back another three inches.

"Why?" Buffy asked as Xander nudged Willow's chair further from the table.

Ignoring Buffy, Giles took a deep breath then flicked the folder open with his tongs.

There was a single sheet of paper in it, face down in the centre of a pentagram.

"Are you ready?" Giles asked, his eyes still focused on the open folder.

Buffy lit the match. "Yes, but what's the-"

Giles half-closed his eyes, then used the tongs to gingerly flip the sheet of paper over.

Cordelia frowned in puzzlement. There was nothing on the paper except a poor quality satellite photo of southern California, and that had a grey splotch in the middle, where Sunnydale should have been.

Buffy hesitated, looking puzzled.

The splotch writhed, tendrils of shadow snaking across the page.

"Quickly!" Giles urged.

Faster than the eye could follow Buffy whipped the match towards the paper, so fast it guttered out before it got there.

Cordelia winced.

The shadows deepened, a fast darkening stain blotting out half California, coiling in serpentine patterns that drew the eye.

"Not again." Willow sighed.

Buffy lit a second match.

There was nothing visible left of the paper now, just a window into darkness bordered by shadow.

Her gaze caught by the hypnotic writhing of the shadows, Cordelia watched helplessly as shapes formed in the darkness.

In the darkness she saw a heartwarming family scene, a smiling mother nursing her baby while her husband bounced their daughter on his knee, and she saw how their idyll had ended, when the demons came. The father had died first, his heart ripped out before he had recognised the threat. The demons had offered to let the mother escape, but she had stayed and fought, in a futile attempt to protect her children. The boy had been nailed to the wall, a warning to all who dreamed of happiness, but the girl had been used to satisfy the demons' many hungers.

In the darkness she saw a peaceful nation, green and prosperous, a land that had taken noble dreams and made them real, and she saw how the dream had ended. Demons had-

Cordelia gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the vision, but the shadows compelled her attention.

Demons had walked its streets in human shape, whispering poisoned counsel into the ears of men.

Giles began to mutter, his voice gradually gaining strength.

Before five years had passed the land fell into civil war.

"-despair. These are but shadows. I must not despair." Giles said

Famine had followed, as-

Cordelia struggled to focus on Giles.

Image followed image, each with its tale of suffering, but Cordelia clung to the thin thread of Giles's voice and refused to despair.

After a few moments Cordelia began to echo Giles's chant.

She still could not look away or even blink but, her willpower bolstered by the chant, she found she could look at the images more dispassionately.

They looked like fragments of her nightmares, but they felt somehow different, weaker.

First Xander, then Willow joined in the chant.

The images radiated the same boundless malice, the same delight in the destruction of hope and the loss of innocence, but they lacked the overwhelming power of her nightmares.

Where the nightmares had been like being buried alive under a mountain, a crushing weight she could never hope to bear, the photo was more like being buried in a shallow grave, unpleasant but survivable.

When Cordelia finally saw Buffy's hand inch into view, a lit match clutched in the trembling fingers, she managed to smile.

After what felt like ages the flame reached the shadows.

The images froze.

Golden flames raced around the edge of the photo, surrounding the shadows.

Dazzled by the sudden light, Cordelia blinked and looked away.

Xander smiled, the first real smile Cordelia had seen that day.

Feeling unexpectedly reassured, Cordelia looked back at the table.

A ring of fire hung in mid-air, the shadows still writhing in its centre, but the ring was shrinking, squeezing the shadows out of existence.

A new image formed in the shadows; Buffy, naked, chained to the wall, a thousand cuts marring her naked skin, each swarming with maggots, while all around her friends danced, heedless of the screams.

Suddenly pale, Buffy wobbled in her chair, her eyes unfocused.

The shadows vanished, chased away by the flames.

Giles dropped the tongs.

Buffy turned to look at Giles.

"Why?" she asked plaintively.

Giles was still staring at where the shadows had been. "It didn't do that before."

"Before?" Willow said. "You had already looked at it?"

Giles blinked, then slowly nodded. "That was a sixth generation copy. Dame Margo did describe similar effects, but they were from a third generation copy. Something must have reinvigorated it."

"The hellmouth?" Willow suggested before Cordelia could work out what Giles was talking about.

"No." Giles said firmly. "When I first looked at it, it was unpleasant, but no more. A few hours on the hellmouth shouldn't have empowered it that much."

"What was it?" Buffy asked, looking intently at Giles. "What did we see?"

Buffy licked her lips then swallowed. "Was it, um, a, I mean, will it ... come true?"

"No." Giles said. "The last vision was an empty threat. What you just saw was a routine satellite photo of southern California, taken last night, which-"

"You've got your own satellites?" Xander interrupted, looking surprised. "Aren't they too modern-"

"We have, um, unofficial contacts in US intelligence who let us know when anything untoward happens. This certainly qualified."

"But what made the photo go all wigsome?" Buffy asked, leaning forward.

"The satellite photographed the aura of the shadow entity that-"

As he spoke Giles looked quickly at Cordelia and the others before turning back to Buffy.

"These three saw last night."

Buffy looked puzzled. "A vampire's photo doesn't bite. How-"

Giles half-smiled. "A vampire is small fry. If the evil is sufficiently great, anything inanimate in its presence can become imbued with its malign aura. It's happened before, but not on this scale."

Willow looked briefly thoughtful. "The satellite wasn't in Sunnydale."

Giles nodded. "It was looking this way, which was enough."

"So the satellite is evil now?" Cordelia said, to prove she was listening.

"Not precisely." Giles said. "It's still only a mindless machine, but it has become ... vile. Our contacts will be shooting it down once they've destroyed the hard copies."

Giles hesitated. "It's probably not a good idea to use the fax machine either. I'll have to cleanse it, and this room."

"So everything the photo has touched went bad?" Cordelia asked nervously. If a photo of the shadow tree could do that, what had being near the real thing done?

"Not just the original photo. In the next worst case the council knows of, the photo just radiated a mild sense of unfocused malice. Copies of that photo were harmless. The shadow entity was so powerful that even its photo radiated more malice than a dark god, enough that copies of the original photo were themselves contaminated."

Giles frowned. "The copy the council received was third generation, but it was still powerful enough for a pseudo-visual manifestation of the shadow entity's desires, much like the one we just experienced."

Cordelia nodded understandingly. If that was what the council had seen it wasn't surprising some of them had panicked. "But-"

Giles ignored Cordelia. "The copy we received was sixth generation but, even before something reinvigorated it, that copy radiated as much dread as the photograph of Shub-Niggurath. We have not yet been able to conclusively identify the shadow entity but this much is clear. It was no mere demon lord or petty godling. It was an ancient terror spawned of the outer darkness, a power vast beyond our comprehension."

That did not sound like good news. Cordelia thought quickly, trying to remember if Giles had described anything like that before, and came up with just one answer.

"Omega?"

Giles nodded gravely, but Willow looked doubtful.

"Isn't there only one Omega?"

"Yes." Giles said slowly, looking warily at Willow. "Why?"

"We only saw one of the shadow creatures clearly but there were lots of others behind it. They just didn't come close."

"They were smaller." Xander said.

Willow looked at him. "Smaller, or just further away?"

Giles stared at Willow, his face bone white.

Cordelia shuddered. If that had only been a minion she never wanted to see its master.

"Marvellous," Giles said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Bloody marvellous. What next? Tea with the Morning Star?"

Giles glanced at Cordelia. "A public reading of the Al Azif?"

Giles looked at Xander. "Riding with the Wild Hunt?"

Buffy leaned forwards. "Leave them alone. They haven't done anything wrong."

Giles laughed sardonically. "We left them alone for five minutes and they, they-"

Giles stopped and stared blankly at the table.

After a moment he sighed. "I just wish I'd learnt this sooner. I-"

Giles stopped again, then began cleaning his glasses.

Cordelia scowled at Willow. Couldn't she have waited to break the bad news?

OK, they needed to know there might be worse things than the shadow tree out there, but they didn't need to know about them right this minute. They had more urgent concerns.

"Giles," Cordelia said quickly, "Everything near the shadow tree soaked up its evil, right? What about us?"

Giles put his glasses back on. "Everything inanimate. With neither mind nor soul, such objects were defenceless. You have both so should be in no danger."

"Should?" Cordelia said, looking challengingly at Giles.

Willow nodded. "We've already had nightmares which must have been implanted in our subconsciouses by that creature since we heard the midnight tongue spoken during them though we'd never heard it before, at least not so far as we remember, so we know the dark tower, that is the creature that looked like a dark tower to me, must be able to meddle with our minds to some extent. What other surprises might it have buried there?"

"I don't know." Giles said.

Cordelia shivered, trying not to imagine the possibilities.

"But you are still sane." Giles continued. "And the shadow entity had only a few seconds to act, during which we know it forced open the deathgate and assaulted the powers that be. It can't have had enough time for anything other than a brute force assault on your minds, and that would have shattered your sanity."

"Um, Giles." Willow said. "That doesn't explain how the dreams got into our minds. If we don't know that how we can we know nothing else was put there?"

A sensible question, but not now. It was only, Cordelia glanced at her watch, twenty to nine, far too early for-

Cordelia stiffened. Twenty to nine? That couldn't be right.

Her watch ticked on.

"How long have we been here?" Cordelia asked, interrupting Giles. "It doesn't seem like forty minutes."

Giles checked his own watch. "Ah, yes, perceptual time distortion, a classic symptom. We didn't see the visions with our eyes; they were rammed straight into our minds, a process which has several side-effects."

Giles looked at the shelves. "Staniforth wrote at length on the subject. 'On dreams and visions' has the clearest explanation."

Willow smiled.

Giles stood up and started towards the shelves. "And it should answer your other questions too."

Buffy yawned. "Can't this wait?"

Xander nodded. "Willow can read the book, then tell us about it later."

Cordelia looked at Giles. "There's no immediate danger, is there?"

Giles sat down. "Well, there is the possibility that the nightmares will recur, and remembering them may have adverse effects."

Cordelia shuddered. "Can you do anything?"

If he couldn't they'd just have to grin and bear it. Talking wouldn't help.

"There are certain meditations that should help, if you have sufficient mental discipline, but I need to consult Staniforth to find the most suitable."

Cordelia looked at Xander. She was confident she would have no trouble, and Willow had always had good concentration, but Xander had never been good at anything that required thought.

"What about amulets?" Cordelia asked. "Something easy to use?"

"Unfortunately," Giles said, "All such devices invoke the protection of godlike beings. Your minds have already been assaulted by one such. Invite a second in, and your mind may become a football, tossed willy-nilly between contending powers. The outcome would not be pleasant."

"Worse than the nightmares?" Willow said.

"Maybe." Giles said. "You haven't told me what they were like yet-"

Xander started to speak but Giles rushed on "And I don't want you to, not until you have the memories under control. Any dream in which the midnight tongue was heard must have been at least as unpleasant as the visions it engenders. That is all I need to know."

Giles smiled. "However, since you survived the initial onslaught, which is more than most untrained people could have done, you must have enough willpower to survive any aftereffects unaided. Once you've mastered the Staniforth meditation techniques you should be able to shrug off most future psychic assaults."

Cordelia frowned. She had hoped for more, but it seemed Giles had nothing better to offer.

Xander would just have to learn how to meditate, unlikely but there was always the chance luck would go her way for once. The laughter Xander had heard did seem to have softened the impact of the nightmares; it might soften the aftereffects.

Cordelia smiled grimly. If she was really lucky there might not be any aftereffects.

Willow was talking now, asking another unimportant question.

Before Giles could digress again, Cordelia quickly interrupted.

"Is there anything else urgent? We should talk about that first."

Willow scowled, clearly annoyed, but Cordelia just smiled, then leaned back and waited for the answer.

Buffy looked at Cordelia, then at Giles. "You said something about a deathgate?"

Giles nodded. "Um, yes, the deathgate is definitely important. It's why events last night went so spectacularly wrong, for both us and the Master, and it's here to stay."

"For the Master?" Buffy said. "That wasn't what he wanted?"

"No," Giles said. "The Master only wanted to summon an anointed one, but the shadow entity hijacked his ritual. Now he may have to contend with dozens of resurrected demon lords and he may not even have the anointed one he wanted."

Buffy smiled. "I can live with that."

Giles just looked at Buffy. "The demon lords will be a problem for us too. Since they escaped the soulstorm we know they must all be comparable in power to Ytwomj."

Cordelia swallowed nervously. One Ytwomj was bad enough. If there were a dozen demons like him loose in Sunnydale keeping the situation under control would stretch even her abilities to near breaking point.

"How do I kill them?" Buffy asked. "I want to kill Ytwomj."

"Decapitation normally works," Giles said, "but you shouldn't go looking for them."

"Why not?" Buffy asked, quite reasonably.

"Far too risky. We know nothing about any of them, apart from Ytwomj. Fortunately, demons are not naturally co-operative. Most of them are likely to kill each other fighting for dominance. We can protect the bystanders, then kill the survivors before they recover."

"And Ytwomj?" Buffy said, her voice quivering with barely-supressed fury "After what he did, I want to kill him myself."

"If he escaped, and don't know if he did, he will not be easy to kill."

Willow looked at Giles. "How did he die last time?"

Giles looked at his notes. "After the San Francisco earthquake he was trapped under a collapsed building. During the ensuing fire he was badly burnt, weakening him. Before he could recover an unknown sorcerer found him and decapitated him then removed his eye."

"Eeew." Buffy said. "You mean I've got to poke his eye out."

Giles nodded. "After you take his head. It is the seat of his power."

"Why would anyone want his eye?" Willow asked.

Giles shrugged. "I can think of at least six uses, most of them dark. Since the same sorcerer appears to have harvested body parts from several other injured demons in the aftermath of the earthquake their motives were unlikely to be good."

"Does he have any weaknesses?" Cordelia asked, before the conversation could drift any further.

"Silver and salt water." Giles said. "But they only weaken him. They will not kill him."

Xander smiled at Buffy. "So get him on a boat, then hit him with your jewellery."

"Are any of your rings real silver?" Cordelia asked. They looked more like cheap tin.

"I have a silver plated sword Buffy can use," Giles said. "But that is not an immediate concern. What matters is the nature of Ytwomj's death and rebirth."

Giles looked at Buffy, then at Willow. "Why it matters is a rather complex eschatological question but I'll try to keep it simple."

Cordelia groaned inwardly. She wasn't even sure what eschatology was.

"Demons can sometimes be resurrected on significant anniversaries of their deaths, if the proper rituals are performed. Ytwomj died ninety-one years ago, to the month, which made him a candidate for resurrection, but no one wanted to bring him back."

"However," Giles said, "last night the Master sought to resurrect Luke's demon, as part of his creation of the anointed. His act opened a, um, crack between the demonic afterlife and this world. This crack wasn't enough to allow Ytwomj to return, but it did weaken the barriers. That was when the shadow entity stepped in."

"It reached into our worlds from outside and, um, rammed Ytwomj's spirit through the dimensional barriers, ripping open the deathgate. Other demons then followed the pathway thus created, forming the soulstorm. We did manage to bottle that up but all Sunnydale now lies within the necrotic aura of the deathgate."

Willow frowned. "This deathgate still sounds like a hellmouth. They both lead to hell."

"No." Giles said.

"But demons are evil." Willow said. "Dead demons must go to hell."

Giles sighed. "While the demon dimensions are commonly referred to as hells that is actually a misnomer. To humans they would seem like hell but they are actually physical dimensions, not fundamentally different from our own. The various afterlives are, um, different."

"Think of it this way." Giles said, after a short pause. "Our universe is like one house in a great city. We live on the ground floor. Underneath us are the cellars, places of punishment for damned souls, and beneath them are the dark foundations on which the city was built; above us are other floors, the heavens of human legends; further up the gods and powers that be dwell; and all around us are other houses, each a universe like our own. Outside the city lies the outer darkness, where Omega dwells, but the entire city has been infiltrated by its malice. The houses on the outskirts have long since been drowned in shadow. Some have been demolished by their inhabitants at Omega's instigation, which is to say those universes were unmade by its touch. Other have become places of horror, inhabited by Omega's deluded pawns."

Willow smiled, clearly interested, but Buffy also looked strangely intrigued.

"The various demon dimensions start about half way out," Giles continued, "just past the other end of the hellmouth, and come all the way up to our doorstep. As you head inwards, the universes become less corrupt, but even here we are not safe."

"What's it like further in then?" Willow asked. "Must be nice there, away from all the demons."

"Willow," Giles said, "we are in the centre. This is the best of worlds. Life doesn't get any better than this."

Cordelia scowled. If this was the best life could offer she would have a few sharp words for the management, if they dared to show their faces.

Buffy looked at Giles. "That sounds a lot like my dream, except it was a big castle."

"You had a dream?" Giles said. "You didn't say."

"You started talking about all this other weird stuff." Buffy said. "Do you want to know about it?"

"Yes!" Giles said quickly, then paused. "If it wasn't like theirs."

"It wasn't." Buffy said. "I was standing on the tallest tower of a castle under siege. The enemy army had got through the main gate. Their soldiers were occupying the outer rooms but the leaders were outside."

Buffy paused, her face growing pale. "I couldn't see them clearly, but they felt really bad, almost as bad as that sniggering I heard."

Giles smiled. "The forces of darkness, occupying the outer universes, just as I said. What else?"

Buffy pushed her hair back. "There were three people standing with me, but not normal people."

"Describe them." Giles said, leaning forwards.

"There was a young child holding a book. They looked really cute."

"Male or female?" Giles asked.

"Couldn't tell." Buffy said.

"And the others?" Giles asked.

"There was a blindfolded woman holding some scales."

"Either a seer or Justice." Giles said. "What was on the scales, and on which side?"

Buffy blinked. "The castle was on the right hand side. The other side had, um, a heart with seven swords stuck in it."

"Erzulie Gé-Rouge." Giles said. "A symbol of corrupted love."

Cordelia frowned. If that woman was a seer it was probably meant to be her, since she did know about the future. Hopefully, this latest dream wouldn't give her secret away.

"The third was a knight, " Buffy said. "But they were wearing one of those funny hats. You know, the stripy ones with bells on."

That sounded like Xander's idea of fashion, which meant Willow had to be the child.

"I suspect the three figures were your three friends." Giles said. "But I'm unsure which was which."

"Doesn't Xander have to be the knight?" Willow said. "Weren't they all men?"

Giles smiled at Willow. "We are dealing with symbolism. The knight clearly represents someone both noble and foolish, but they could be of any gender."

That still sounded like Xander to Cordelia, apart from the nobility bit. He had always been the foolish one.

Giles looked back at Buffy. "What happened next?"

"The army fired a catapult at us. Then things changed. A wolf howled in the distance and a old woman appeared. She was giving away rainbow-coloured handcuffs, but no-one wanted any so she killed herself. After that, the child opened its book then giggled while the stars fell from the sky. The woman put her thumb on the left hand scale, and it rained blood. Finally, the knight picked up a sword and the castle walls turned to custard."

"And that was it?" Giles said, "No more details?"

Buffy nodded.

Giles looked slightly disappointed. "It appears to be another warning about what will happen if these three make the wrong choices. I will have to cross-reference the imagery before I can be more specific but, apart from the old woman, I can't see anything of immediate relevance."

Xander looked understandably confused. "What about the old woman? Is she good or bad?"

Giles smiled. "It seems that when she offers you a gift you should accept it, but I've no idea what that gift will be."

"Anything else we need to know?" Cordelia asked, giving Willow a meaningful look.

If Willow didn't stop asking question Giles might still be talking at sunset, which wouldn't be Cordelia's idea of fun.

Cordelia was willing to do research, Giles needed help and it wouldn't look good to refuse, but listening to Giles and Willow discuss esoterica didn't help anyone or do anything for her image.

Willow looked away. "Um, Giles was telling us about the structure of the multiverse."

"Ah, yes, that." Giles mumbled. "Do you remember the metaphor I outlined?"

Before he could elaborate Cordelia quickly nodded.

"Good," Giles said, once everyone had agreed. "The hellmouth is like a door leading to a house further out, but not a flimsy modern door. This door is six feet of solid oak, with a dozen strong steel bolts, and it's set in a wall that could, um, hold Godzilla. Even closed and locked the malice of the Old Ones leaks through, but it can not be opened from their side, only from ours, and then only with a suitable ritual key."

"We get the picture." Buffy said. "What about this deathgate?"

"The floor of our house makes the walls look like tissue paper but the shadow entity's acts ripped an hole straight though it. That hole is the deathgate, a gaping wound in reality. Almost anything could come through that hole, as long as it's dead, and there is nothing we can do to stop it."

Xander looked at Giles. "You said that seal thing would work."

"That was before I knew about the deathgate." Giles said. "The seal is only a sticking plaster. It will hold in the soulstorm but if anything powerful comes through the seal will fail."

"Can't you brick the hole up?" Willow asked. "Or put a proper door on it, one we can lock?"

"I wouldn't even know where to start." Giles replied, his tone scornful.

Giles hesitated, then in softer tones continued. "Dame Margo did say the board are investigating options. Before, they've always denied having that kind of power, but if they could keep the Ragnarok vault a secret from the council there's no telling what other tricks they may have up their sleeve. Still, even if the board can do something they won't be doing it today. We are going to have to deal with an unwarded deathgate. We will just have to hope that none of the Old Ones are willing to kill themselves to enter our world."

That sounded like a pretty safe bet to Cordelia. She could understand why Giles was on edge, it seemed like the shadow tree had been wreaking metaphysical havoc, but she suspected he was overreacting. In her experience of the hellmouth worst cases hardly ever happened.

"How will it affect us?" Buffy asked. "You said it had a nektic aura."

"Necrotic." Giles said. "The aura of the deathgate blurs the boundaries between life and death. All necromantic magics will be amplified, for good or ill, and the undead will be strengthened."

Willow looked briefly thoughtful. "Can it amplify the hellmouth, or vice versa? You said positive feedback would be really bad."

"No." Giles said. "That only happens when the loci are sufficiently similar. Both spears amplified martial magic so they could amplify each other. This time the hellmouth amplifies malign magic and the deathgate amplifies necromantic magic."

"But isn't the deathgate itself malign?" Willow asked.

"No." Giles said firmly. "It is morally neutral. It makes it easier to raise an army of zombies, but it also makes it possible to restore an intact corpse to full life without the normal problems."

Willow looked puzzled. "How can it be neutral? It was created by black magic and you said it goes to a bad afterlife."

Giles nodded. "True, but once created it linked to all the spiritual dimensions."

"Aren't they in opposite directions?" Willow asked, then jumped as Xander nudged her.

Giles smiled. "Yes, and no. It's complicated, too complicated for me to explain in full today. All you need to know is that the deathgate gives easier access to all the spiritual dimensions but only the damned will want to enter our world through it. Those enjoying heavenly bliss prefer to stay there."

"Strengthen the undead?" Buffy said. "You mean the vampires will get stronger?"

"And harder to kill." Giles said. "Dame Margo thinks you will need to use a rowan stake or a consecrated blade. Normal wood won't be enough."

"What if I dip them in holy water?" Buffy asked. "Or has that stopped working too?"

"No." Giles said slowly. "You'll need to soak the stakes first, not just wet them, but that should work."

"Why now?" Willow asked. "Why did the dark tower wait until last night."

"Good point." Giles said. "If it could have acted earlier it would have. We believe some unknown factor weakened the barriers. That must be why the future has been changed, because whatever happened made this possible."

"But that happened three weeks ago." Willow objected.

"Yes," Giles conceded, "but last night may have been the first night since then that someone attempted to resurrect a demon. It's not something that happens every day."

Giles nudged his glasses. "We still don't know what happened to trigger these changes, we have so little information to go on, but after last night ..."

Cordelia winced, horribly aware that Giles was missing a vital piece of information. There had to be some connection with her time-travelling, otherwise it would be too big a coincidence. Something else must have come back with her, and used its foreknowledge to mess things up. Either that or she had been tricked into doing something that gave Omega a way in.

If Giles learned about the time-travel he'd probably be able pinpoint the source of the changes and stop them. They wouldn't be able to put things back to normal, not now the deathgate had opened, but they'd stop getting worse leaving Cordelia free to enjoy the benefits of her wish.

Things would be better if Giles knew, but she couldn't tell him. He might fix the present, or he might find some way to cancel her wish, which would not be acceptable. That would mean losing, and Cordelia was no loser.

Giles was looking patiently at Willow. "We can't tell which events were supposed to happen and which are part of the changes ..."

Cordelia frowned. She could, sometimes anyway. She couldn't always distinguish between random changes and enemy action, but she knew which changes were her work and she had some idea how things had been in the original history. She couldn't tell Giles that though.

At least, she couldn't tell Giles how she knew what the future would had been. She could tell him what she knew as long as she lied about the how. She'd have to think about that.

".. can wait." Giles said. "The research is more urgent. You've been excused from class all morning so, if you're willing?"

Willow immediately nodded, beating Cordelia by half a second.

Buffy sighed, "OK."

When Xander finally nodded Giles started picking up books and handing them out.

As the morning wore on Cordelia leafed through her book, a dull treatise about the interdimensional barriers, and thought about what she could tell Giles.

She would to keep him off-balance, like she had Angel, and say as little as possible. Let him guess how she knew, then confirm his guesses. Flatter him into thinking he was right about everything and he wouldn't start asking awkward questions.

She'd have to tread very carefully, but her plan should work.

When the other left for lunch Cordelia lingered.

After a moment Giles looked up. "Still here?"

"Ripper, we need to talk." Cordelia said.

That should have knocked him off balance. Now all she had to do was keep him there.

Giles did not seem ruffled though. He just smiled and said, "About time, Cordelia."

****

"Sugar?" Giles asked.

"Three lumps." Cordelia said, endeavouring to sound as if this were part of her normal routine.

Giles nodded, then started fussing with the teapot.

Cordelia smiled. He was obviously playing for time, which meant he must have been more surprised than he'd looked.

She didn't mind that. She needed a few seconds to think herself.

Clearly, Giles knew something, but what? Had he worked it all out or did he-

Cordelia paused and corrected herself. Giles appeared to know something, but he could just have been bluffing. She'd have to be alert for potential traps like that, or he'd trick her into giving away more than she had to.

She shouldn't really have let him usher her into the office either. Her father had always said, 'make them come to you and the argument's half won.' In fact, her father had said a lot about how he won hostile negotiations, which this meeting was. She'd ignored most of it, business was boring, but after a hundred repetitions some of the boasts were bound to sink in.

Perhaps she should try and remember more of them. Giles was a lot smarter than Harmony or Xander, more like the people her father did business with; the techniques that kept those two in their place might not work very well on him. Her father's methods would work better on Giles. Combine them with her own people-managing skills and Giles wouldn't know what had hit him.

Cordelia looked round Giles's office, wondering what other tricks he might use to tilt the conversation his way.

Giles put the tray on the table then sat down and looked at Cordelia expectantly.

Cordelia knew that trick. If she spoke first Giles would ask a few simple questions, each time forcing her to answer or look suspicious. The conversation would quickly fall into a rhythm of question and answer, a rhythm that could lure the unwary into careless talk. Even if she remembered to watch her words, she'd be so busy answering Giles's questions she'd never get a chance to find out what he knew.

She could try asking the first question herself, that might work, but Giles would probably brush it aside and ask what she had wanted to talk to him about.

No, she was better off waiting patiently until Giles gave in.

Giles leaned back in his chair, a chair that looked much more comfortable than Cordelia's. His chair had arms, with decorative carvings, and a padded leather back; hers, dragged in from the main library, had a plain wooden back, no arms, and not enough padding in the seat.

Cordelia smiled inwardly. Like everything else in the office, the chair added to Giles's air of authority, subtly encouraging her to believe he had a right to control the conversation.

Giles smiled as he picked up his cup and saucer.

Cordelia followed suit.

Giles had a sip of tea then looked at Cordelia. "You wanted to talk?"

Giles had already tried this trick but this time she couldn't stay silent, not without looking bad. She would have to try and put the onus on him.

"There was something I wanted to discuss," Cordelia said, careful not to give anything away, "but I got the strong impression you already knew."

"I know you have a secret." Giles said. "I've known that since the day we met but what it is I can't say."

Cordelia took a sip of tea, hoping the cup would hide her surprise. If Giles had really known that long he must be even smarter than she had thought.

Well, even geniuses were vulnerable to flattery.

"But you're smart." Cordelia said, as if stating an indisputable fact. "And I must have given you some clues, or you couldn't have known I was concealing anything. Surely you've been able to work some of it out."

"So you don't think the other people involved would speak to me." Giles said. "Interesting."

Giles had slipped up there, giving her a glimpse of what he suspected, but only because she had slipped up first. If Giles hadn't had any preconceptions he might have realised her phrasing was consistent with Cordelia working alone, which was more than Cordelia wanted to admit this early in the conversation.

"But do you have any ideas?" Cordelia asked, playing for time.

"Many of the possibilities were easy to rule out." Giles said. "In my experience, non-human shape shifters can rarely sustain a convincing masquerade for long. Even in brief conversations their alien mindset is readily apparent."

Cordelia suppressed a smile. Giles could have given a shorter answer, or avoided the question completely, but he'd seized the opportunity to show off his expertise, another trick Cordelia recognised.

She'd used the same technique herself, showing off her superior fashion sense to keep her friends properly respectful. Reminding people how much better you were at the important things was an excellent way to undermine their confidence, the first step to dominating the conversation, but it wasn't a trick that would work on her.

It didn't matter that Giles was smarter and knew more. Her secrets were hers alone. She might choose to tell Giles some of them, when she felt it was really necessary but he had no right to know.

"Furthermore," Giles said, "I can be almost certain that you are the real Cordelia Chase, in both body and soul. Your face shows no trace of plastic surgery, any magical disguise would have been dissolved when you helped cast the spell on Marcie and most forms of possession can be ruled out since none of your friends, other than Willow, appear to have notice any personality changes."

"Has Willow told you anything?" Cordelia asked, genuinely curious.

Giles smiled. "Not knowingly. Willow has been trying to discover what I think about you, but she's been hampered by her apparent wish to do so without alerting me to her suspicions. Since she lacks my watcherly training in, um, difficult conversations I learned rather more from her than she did from me."

Cordelia immediately recognised the implicit threat in that last statement, and dismissed it as quickly. Willow might have lost to Giles but that was no surprise, not the way Willow babbled under pressure. Cordelia knew she would be a much tougher opponent.

What should she ask him next?

Before Cordelia could decide Giles leaned forwards. "What do you know about Ripper?"

Rather than answer immediately Cordelia sipped her tea.

She'd made a slight misjudgement there, giving Giles the chance to slip a question in, but he had slipped up too, asking her a question to which she had already prepared the answer. Now he had to allow her a few seconds thinking time if he wanted to keep the conversation polite, which he had to do to have any chance of tricking information out of her, a few seconds in which she could think about how to regain lost ground while he thought her mind was safely preoccupied with his last question.

"I know it's your old nickname, and I know why." Cordelia said. "Why haven't you told Buffy about me?"

Talking about Giles's Ripper period was too risky, if she accidentally mentioned something only he should have known he might work out that it had to be him who had told her, but her question should close off that topic and put Giles on the defensive.

"Why haven't you told her about me?" Giles asked.

Cordelia saw no parallel. "Ripper is ancient history. I'm not."

"You are confident of that?" Giles said. "Certain I will never return to my old habits?"

Cordelia was, and not just because of her time-travel. Giles was too smart to make the same mistake twice.

That clearly wasn't the answer Giles wanted though. He wanted her to say 'No', but why? What follow-up did he have planned?

If anyone else had asked self-incriminating questions in the middle of a fraught conversation she would have assumed they were about to crack but not Giles. With someone as smart as him, someone who frequently displayed impressive verbal skills, she had to assume every word was picked for maximum effect.

That left only one explanation.

Giles must have seen a parallel between the reasons he believed she hadn't told Buffy about his secret and the reasons he hadn't told Buffy about hers, though she had no idea what.

Rather than just answer the question Giles had actually asked Cordelia decided it would be more impressive to address the point he was actually making. Hopefully he'd be startled by her unexpected acumen.

"Certain enough. Telling Buffy now would cause too many problems." Cordelia said. "How can you be so certain that I'm as harmless as you?"

Buffy would have to be told one day, so she would be prepared for Eyghon, but not for months yet, and certainly not until Buffy knew Giles well enough that finding out wouldn't affect their partnership.

Giles looked at his cup. "We watchers are required to assume that all humans are innocent unless we find clear evidence of evildoing. Keeping secrets does not constitute such evidence, so I could only watch and try to discern your intent."

"Did you?" Cordelia asked.

Giles nodded. "It didn't take long to decide your short term plans were benign. It didn't take much longer to recognise the marks left by your training."

Training? The only training Cordelia had ever had was in cheerleading, not something Giles had any interest in. He had to be thinking about something occult-related, probably part of his theory about her actions.

"Marks?" Cordelia said, offering Giles another chance to show off. While he was trying to intimidate her with his big brain he might give away his theory, which would make it much easier for Cordelia to play along with it.

"You've been using concealer to hide your bruises." Giles said, glancing at her bare arms. "Why? Other people will ignore all evidence of the unusual, even if it's in plain sight."

Cordelia frowned. Giles had concealed his point behind an apparent non-sequitur, not a common tactic in her circle. Well, if he thought she'd get confused by his elliptical conversation he was wrong.

After spending a few moments trying to work out why Giles had asked that particular question Cordelia decided it didn't matter. None of the reasons would give anything away.

"People may not need help to ignore the unusual," Cordelia said, repeating the advice Giles had given the summer Buffy ran away, "but that doesn't mean there is no need for discretion. People will invent explanations firmly rooted in the quotidian world for any oddities in our behaviour but they may not be such as we would welcome. Misunderstandings are too likely to be lethal, to them or to us. It is better that we remain superficially normal, that our actions might pass unremarked."

Bruises were also ugly, but telling Giles that wouldn't make her look good.

Giles smiled. "That was very nearly a direct quote from the training manual."

It was? Then it was obvious who Giles thought she'd been trained by. There was only one training manual he should know well enough to recognise quotes from.

Cordelia concentrated, trying to work out how she could safely take advantage of Giles's misconception.

"Don't worry." Giles said. "That was only the third time you've used such a blatant quote. You've done an excellent job of concealing your sources but you couldn't hope to succeed."

Cordelia shrugged off Giles's latest sally. The first thing she needed to do was get Giles to admit they both knew what he was thinking.

"You think I'm a watcher?" Cordelia said, trying to sound as if she was faking scepticism in an effort to divert Giles from the truth, an difficult piece of acting, but not beyond a performer of her undoubted skills.

Giles chuckled. "Hardly! You are far too young."

Giles looked at Cordelia, then continued. "But you've clearly been trained by a watcher. You've been asking leading questions, haven't you?"

Cordelia nodded.

"Questions carefully phrased to rule out the wrong answers but," Giles said, his tone now didactical, "you can only rule out the alternatives you know about. Every question you ask reveals the assumptions that underlie it. Your questions showed you think about the supernatural the way we watchers do. You must have spent months in the company of a watcher.

Despite herself, Cordelia was impressed. Giles was right. She really had spent the last year hanging round a watcher, picking up esoteric trivia by osmosis. It seemed she'd picked up some watcherish habits too, probably only minor tics, but not minor enough to escape Giles's attention.

The only detail Giles had missed was that he was the watcher in question, no great surprise when he must know dozens of more plausible candidates.

"You noticed that?" Cordelia said, giving herself more time to think.

Giles was smarter than she had realised, and observant enough that he had noticed the subtle marks a year of his company had left on her. That was an almost Holmesian level of deduction, a display of intelligent that far outclassed anything Willow had yet managed. It might just be that Giles had so much more experience than Willow, or he might be a real genius.

Well, it didn't matter how smart he was. He was still only human. There was no way he could trick her into admitting she'd time-travelled, no way at all.

Giles nodded. "When you have spent as much time in the company of watchers as I the shared traits do become rather obvious. There are certain habits of thought, certain mannerisms and forms of speech, with which our common experience has imbued us."

Giles shrugged. "Naturally, the traces your watcher contact has left on you are much fainter, only noticeable to the expert eye. However there are times when you sound almost like a trainee watcher."

Cordelia froze, unsure whether she had just been insulted or complimented. Giles had to be exaggerating, a lot, but even so, that was not something she'd ever expected to hear.

"Biscuit?" Giles said, pushing the plate towards Cordelia.

Cordelia picked a cookie up, looked at it, then put it on the saucer.

OK, so Giles thought she was secretly involved with another watcher. How could she exploit that?

It would make it harder to dissemble, since Giles knew much more about the watchers than she did, but there were advantages. Giles was bound to find it much easier to trust his fellow watchers than any group of strangers Cordelia invented. It wouldn't be difficult to persuade him to trust in the watcher plan he thought Cordelia was a part of, and from that it would only be a small step to persuade him to trust Cordelia herself.

That approach would also keep the lying to a minimum, easing her conscience. She could tell the truth about some of her future experience with Giles, and let him think she was talking about a non-existent watcher.

"Who was your contact?" Giles asked.

Cordelia nibbled daintily at the cookie. She could refuse to give any name, but that would make it harder to talk about the supposed contact. A real name would be too easy to prove false and Giles would recognise a fake, but did that matter? She didn't want Giles to think she was making things up but she didn't care what he thought about the contact.

"Winston Thatcher-Lennon-Smythe." Cordelia said, deliberately picking a name that sounded too English to be real. "That's what I called him but I don't think it was his real name."

"An obvious alias." Giles agreed. "This Winston must have been acting without official council sanction. What did he look like?"

Cordelia couldn't answer that question; any description she gave might resemble too closely a real watcher.

"I can't answer that." Cordelia said. "Winston might get in trouble."

"He seems to have abandoned you." Giles said dryly.

Cordelia nodded. If Winston had been real she wouldn't have talked to Giles with him still around, not by herself.

"He couldn't be here if you were." Cordelia said, quite truthfully.

Winston couldn't be anywhere, since he didn't exist, and the future Giles she was really talking about couldn't be here now, not without creating a lot of problems.

"How did he recruit you?" Giles asked.

Cordelia cast her mind back, thinking about how she had drifted into the weirdness.

"He was insufficiently discreet," she said smiling. "When I started asking questions he told me the truth. He clearly needed my help and I could hardly turn him down, not when our work is so important."

Of course Giles had never actually admitted needing her help. He hadn't needed to. Anyone forced to rely on the likes of Willow and Xander had to be desperate.

"How did you know him?"

"I can't answer that." Cordelia said. At least, not until she had a chance to manufacture corroborating evidence.

"Literally?" Giles said. "Or do you mean won't? If you are under any constraints, magical or-"

"Nothing like that." Cordelia said firmly, not wanting to give Giles any excuse to use magic on her.

"What then?" Giles asked.

Cordelia thought quickly. She needed a reason to stay silent that Giles would accept, preferably one that covered all the questions she didn't want to answer. She had thought of a few possibilities earlier, while reading through that dull tome, generic explanations that would have worked whatever Giles believed. They needed a little tweaking now she knew what Giles actually believed but that wouldn't be difficult.

"Winston trusted me." Cordelia said. "If I broke his trust at the first excuse he would be disappointed."

"And yet you have told me of his existence." Giles said.

Cordelia smiled. "I'e told you nothing you hadn't already discovered."

"So far." Giles said. "I presume you did intend to do more than merely tell me you have secrets."

"Only because of the extraordinary circumstances." Cordelia said. "I don't like breaking promises unnecessarily. This is necessary. There are things you need to know. Winston is not one of them. I'm sure if you needed to know about him you would have been told."

"Winston is clearly a rogue." Giles said sharply. "If he had told anyone about his plans he would have been fired."

Giles looked at Cordelia then sighed . "I can't make you tell me anything but I can't fully trust you until I know the whole truth."

Cordelia struggled to keep her face calm. Giles had just surrendered! He'd given in completely, and admitted it.

Of course, her victory had been inevitable from the start. The only surprise was that Giles had given in so soon.

At least, he seemed to have given up. Giles was a good actor, almost as good as Cordelia herself, and he was dangerously clever. As her father said, 'some people never stop looking for an edge. Relax around one of them and they can talk you into selling the farm. You have to find out what they are really after, and let them know you've seen through their ruses.'

Which reminded her, she had been assuming that Giles wanted to keep his theory a secret but she had no real evidence for that assumption. He might have just been using that as bait to keep her from noticing his real motivations. He was certainly smart enough for that kind of chicanery.

"However," Giles said. "You might wish to reconsider if Winston is worthy of your loyalty. He lured you into the occult, all but guaranteeing your premature death, then abandoned you when he was most needed, and he didn't even have the decency to tell you his real name."

"Death?" Cordelia echoed. She knew being involved with the weirdness was risky, she'd realised that long before it became part of her routine, but Giles had never said death was a risk before.

"He didn't tell you-" Giles said. "Um, I mean, I-It's nothing, really. Forget I mentioned it."

Cordelia certainly wasn't going to fall for that act. That had not been a slip of the tongue; that had been a deliberate revelation. Giles wanted her to ask questions, presumably as part of some greater strategy; he didn't want her to realise the questions were his idea.

Cordelia wondered briefly about his motivations, then decided that could wait. Finding out what Giles meant by guaranteed death was more important.

She looked Giles in the eye. "My death is not nothing."

Giles looked down at the tea tray, a piece of elegant silverware that was definitely not school property.

"Well?" Cordelia said when Giles stayed silent.

"I should say that it has not yet been proved that this is more than a coincidence." Giles began.

"However, as far as we can tell, few field watchers have ever died a natural death. There are many cases where no body was found, and the older records are incomplete, but the pattern is suggestive. Even the headquarters staff have a statistically anomalous rate of early death, mostly due to unexplained accidents."

Cordelia could see why that might concern Giles but what did it have to do with her? She wasn't a watcher.

"We on the front line are less lucky." Giles said quietly. "We always seem to die ... unpleasant deaths, killed by the demons we fight."

Giles looked up. "Has Buffy told you how her first watcher died?"

Cordelia shook her head. She had never even been told his name.

"He was forced to shoot himself. If he hadn't Lothos would have turned him and Buffy would have died not long after. The previous watcher only outlived her slayer by two days. A vespoid demon had injected her with its spawn. They ate her alive, from the inside out, and she was conscious throughout."

Cordelia shuddered, remembering her nightmares, remembering how it had felt to see the maggots squirming beneath her skin, remembering-

"Another biscuit?" Giles said in the same calm tones he had used to convince Buffy that cutting her mother's tongue out was a perfectly reasonable course of action.

"Deny the memories, Cordelia." Giles said, sounding worried. "You must deny them."

Cordelia focused on Giles, reminding herself he had never really done those things, not even in his Ripper days.

She had to think about her next question, not ... that, or evil would have won another victory.

"What has this got to do with me?" Cordelia asked, her voice barely wavering. "I'm not a watcher."

Giles nodded approvingly. "Our records of non-watchers are less comprehensive, but the same trend is clear. Anyone who chooses to fight demons, as you have done-'

"I've what?" Cordelia said. "I never did. That's Buffy's job."

And she was welcome to it. Cordelia was willing to help, she could hardly refuse when Buffy so desperately needed her invaluable support, but she had no intention of making demon-fighting her career. Once she graduated she'd be able to leave all the Sunnydale weirdness behind her, and live a normal life again.

"Buffy was chosen. You chose." Giles said. "It makes little difference now. Even after you learned the truth you could have chosen to hide from it. You didn't. You chose to fight. That is what matters."

"I didn't sign up for a grand crusade." Cordelia said firmly. "I don't want to spend my life fighting vampires and demons. I'm only helping now because I don't want people to die."

Cordelia hesitated, trying to think of the best phrasing. She didn't want to make herself look bad but she didn't want Giles thinking she was like Buffy either.

"Do you think you could ever stop helping?" Giles asked. "If in twenty years you spot a vampire will you do nothing? Will you be able to stand back and let it kill as it pleases?"

"No." Cordelia said hotly. No decent person would be able to do that. Letting people die when you could realistically have saved their lives wasn't much better than actually killing them.

She wouldn't want to fight it, especially not when she was that old, but she would need to make sure the right people knew. She supposed she might even need to do something herself, if there was really no alternative.

"It has been suggested that is why so many active watchers die young." Giles said. "Wherever you go you will inevitably encounter vampires and demons."

"Not after I leave Sunnydale."

"Even then. They are not confined to the hellmouth; they just congregate here. No city is free of them. If you are lucky, and I hope you are, you might go for years without meeting any but, so long as you remain unwilling to watch people die, when you do meet them you will feel obliged to take action. Eventually your luck will run out."

That couldn't be the whole truth, it didn't explain the headquarter's staff, but it did sound plausible.

Cordelia wasn't worried though. She had already survived over a year on the hellmouth, she could certainly survive a lifetime away from it.

She wasn't worried but Giles clearly expected her to be, which meant he was trying to disturb her. Why?

Cordelia faked a despondent expression, as if she were thinking about the prospect of death, and thought over what Giles had said. What did he have to gain by making her worry?

He wanted to nudge her thoughts in his favour, which hadn't worked, but he was hampered by his false assumptions. She needed to work out what he would have expected her to think if Winston had been real.

Cordelia smiled, realising the answer. Giles was trying to undermine her trust in the watcher who had trained her, not realising he was that watcher.

"Why didn't you warn me?" Cordelia asked, wondering what excuse Giles would make.

"It was too late for you. As for Xander and Willow, would it have made any difference?"

Well, Cordelia knew she wouldn't have refused to help someone just because of a vague warning. Willow and Xander lacked her moral fibre, their affair showed that, but she didn't think either of them was that selfish.

"No," Cordelia said. "But-"

"Then it is better for them that they not know." Giles said. "I failed to protect them from knowledge of the vampire threat. I will protect their remaining innocence."

A noble-sounding sentiment but Cordelia wasn't impressed. She'd never sought any such protection and if Giles really believed what he just said he wouldn't have told her anything. He was probably just following the standard watcher policy.

Cordelia looked Giles in the eye. "So why tell me?"

"I would rather not have." Giles said with a straight face, "but if you will ask me questions you must expect answers."

Cordelia didn't believe that for a moment but she couldn't call Giles a liar to his face, not and hope to get anything out of the conversation.

"So," Giles said smiling. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

Corelia smiled back. "I don't want you to tell anyone else about this."

She'd avoided the question long enough to learn a good bit about what Giles was thinking; now it was time to tell Giles what he needed to know.

Giles nodded. "As long as it endangers no one I will keep your secrets."

That would have to do.

"During my time with Winston I saw the future that would have been, if this Omega-guy hadn't messed things up."

"But no longer?" Giles asked, looking intrigued. "There are said to be ways to induce vision."

Cordelia nodded. "What I saw was much more detailed than the normal cryptic gibberish."

"Hence Marcie." Giles said. "Did you mean her to die?"

"No." Cordelia said sharply. "That was unexpected. If we hadn't found her she would have gone mad and tried to kill me."

"Which means you've been trying to change the future."

Cordelia glared at Giles. "You can't blame me. I'm only human. Nothing I could do could have this much effect."

"One pebble can not divert a river," Giles agreed. "But the ripples may be visible for many yards downstream. What use is knowledge of a future that will not now be?"

It was obvious what Giles was doing but Cordelia wasn't going to be tricked into handing her information over for free.

"Lots." she replied. "Not everything has changed. I know what the annointed one looks like and who you will be dating next."

"You k-k-know?" Giles said. "B-but-"

Giles stopped and had a long drink of tea.

"Few prophecies are that detailed," he said, sounding calmer. "And with good reason. For anyone to know to much about their own future carries more dangers than the obvious."

"You see why I didn't want to tell anyone?" Cordelia asked, pressing home her advantage. "I might have said too much."

Giles put his cup back down. "Why tell me now?"

"If we compare what I saw-" Cordelia began.

"With what has actually happened. Yes, that should be useful. We'll need to establish how much it's safe for me to know, but..."

Giles trailed off into a thoughtful silence.

Cordelia smiled. She couldn't tell what Giles was really thinking but, whatever doubts he might be hiding, he seemed willing to act as though he believed her story, which was enough for now.

"First though," Giles said abruptly, "I will need a convincing demonstration of your foresight. I presume you intended to tell me about what was to have happened next?"

That question Cordelia had prepared for.

"I did not see all the details." she cautioned, "and you agree there are things I should be careful about mentioning."

Giles smiled. "Too much detail could be dangerous. Just tell me what you can."

"You know about the zoo visit on Monday?"

Giles picked up a letter and passed it to Cordelia. "It's been rescheduled for tomorrow."

Cordelia glanced at the letter, something about an official visit by the Mayor on Monday, then groaned. "We don't have much time."

It shouldn't be that difficult to keep Xander away from the hyenas but she'd hoped to have a few peaceful days' relaxation before the next crisis.

"A day is more warning than we normally get." Giles said. "What about the zoo?"

Cordelia half-smiled. "Xander will get a little too close to the animals."