Chapter Four

"So why does Latin make it better?" Martha asked, holding a dried bunch of herbs in one hand and watching Calder dig through a cabinet for an "orb of Thess..." Martha couldn't remember, but it was apparently a magic ball.

"I asked Angel the same question once," Calder said, slightly muffled as he stretched deeper into the cabinet. "He got really grumpy and said something about respecting tradition."

While the Doctor wasn't usually grumpy, Martha could definitely appreciate the feeling of being disappointed in the answers to basic, totally reasonable questions. "What's with these guys and vague answers?" Martha asked.

"Right?" Calder replied. "I think with Angel it's because he's old. Ha! I found it!" He emerged from the cabinet, triumphantly holding a glass sphere the size of a grapefruit.

Great. They were putting a soul in a vampire with a crystal ball. Martha could have suggested they stop by a toy shop if that's what they were looking for. "I think they get off on knowing more than other people, which they wouldn't if they explained things properly."

Calder pointed at her. "Yes. That. Here, hold this for me, would you? We still need a few more things. Just don't drop it."

Martha took the crystal ball carefully in her other hand, which allowed Calder to continue his frantic searching of "magic things."

"So you're used to all this magic stuff," Martha said. "How long's that been going on?"

"Pretty much my whole life," Calder replied, setting a large brass bowl on the large trunk that seemed to double as a coffee table. It clanged and twirled a little, but Calder was already off collecting other things. "I met Angel when I was 9. I became a Champion for the Powers that Be when I was 17, and now I'm…old."

He certainly didn't look old to Martha. She smiled. "The Powers that Be? Ominous."

Calder shrugged. "I don't really know, to be honest. Angel hates them, but he's a Seer for them now, and I really like saving people every few weeks, so…" He shrugged again. "You'd think they could've warned us about this, though. Maybe they didn't have to. Maybe they know we do the spell right and Angel gets his soul back in the next ten minutes." He dumped handfuls of bagged herbs on the trunk next to the bowl and circled around to sit on the couch. Then he started pulling drawers out, and Martha realized it wasn't a trunk at all, but a short…dresser? Thing.

Martha walked over, still holding the glass orb up and out of the way like something might jump out and try to break it. Based on her life right now, something might. Maybe brownies. Or leprechauns. They were in Ireland after all. "I have a few supervisors like that. I'm in residency. I think you're supposed to learn more by having to figure everything out on your own."

"Angel's got that attitude, too," Calder nodded, setting out several candles and shoving the drawers shut again. "It's pretty awesome."

"Except Angel's apparently lost his soul," Martha pointed out. She sat down in a chair while Calder started setting out candles. "Can I help?"

"Yeah, here, set these up around the bowl and light them. Space them as evenly as you can. I'm going to get the book." He stood up and crossed the room toward the bookshelves that stood along one wall.

Martha set the orb on the chair, checking and double checking that it wasn't about to throw itself on the ground. When she was satisfied that it was secure, she started setting out candles systematically so that they ended up evenly spaced. "Is there an ideal angle or something?" she asked. The last time they had dealt with magic, the Doctor had explained that it was actually physics and math. She wondered if he had just been making that up, or if Calder was just uninformed or if that hadn't been magic, but obviously this was.

"Yes," Calder replied, returning with an old book open in his arms. "But don't worry about it. Just do the best you can; other things are more important to get right." He set the book down on the table and began opening bags of herbs, looking like he was following a baking recipe.

Martha leaned over to check for diagrams. "I think I'm already worried about it," she admitted.

"I know the feeling," Calder sighed. He glanced over at her candle placement. "That looks great, really. We just need to put these herbs in, and then I think-" he paused, checking the recipe. "Yeah, we throw a lit match in, and then we say these words." He pointed to the page. "And…that's it."

It wasn't a reassuring 'that's it.' It was a 'we might be able to make that three-meter-jump' kind of 'that's it.'

"Sounds simple enough," Martha said reassuringly. She'd had to make a lot of those jumps recently and knew how it felt.

Calder nodded. "If you're up for it, I think we should hold hands while I read it. It's a lot of energy to channel and it'll be easier with two."

Martha laughed. "Yeah, I'll hold your hand," she said. "Just don't make it weird, okay?"

Calder laughed, too. "Well, I think you're gorgeous, but okay. I'll make it weird after Angel's soul is back." He started pulling something that looked like black sesame seeds from one of the bags and dropping them into the brass bowl.

"I like your priorities," Martha said. It was nice to hear a compliment. It was nice to hear a compliment and still be addressing the issue at hand. "Cool," she said, looking over the candles again and adjusting one a little so it was more even. Once she was satisfied, she started lighting them with the lighter that Calder provided from his trouser pocket. He didn't smell like he smoked, but maybe he had a regular need to light candles.

"Okay," Calder breathed a few minutes later. "I'm just double checking…" he ran his finger down the page and then nodded in satisfaction. "I think we're ready. Hand me the orb and then…hand me your hand."

Martha collected the orb carefully and was passing it to Calder when a chime sounded. They both jumped and nearly dropped the orb. "Oh my god," Martha said, both of them clutching the orb with both hands. "Was that it?"

"That's my Palm," Calder said, clearly embarrassed. He let go of his grip on the orb - and her hands. It chimed again.

Martha was even more embarrassed. "Yeah. Right. Of course. Obviously. If that's a telemarketer, I'm going to scream."

Digging into his pocket, Calder asked, "A what?" He looked at the screen and frowned. Martha could see the name "Judith Cole" and a picture of a lovely-looking, slightly older woman. Martha thought that there was a matriarchal look about her.

"Judith never calls me this late," Calder murmured, sounding worried. He pressed a button and Judith Cole's face appeared on the screen again, this time in video.

"Calder," Judith breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief. "What's happening?"

Martha looked up at Calder, trying to gauge if this was a secret or not.

"A lot," Calder said. "Why? Where are you?"

"I'm at your flat," Judith replied, and suddenly the screen switched to a view of Calder's messy flat. Messier flat. Complete with a smashed coffee table at the mouth of the hallway.

"Get out!" Calder and Martha shouted. The video shook with apparent surprise and the view started immediately retreating.

"Is anyone there?"

"Why'd they break my table?"

"Where's the Doctor?"

There was a view of the door closing before the screen switched back to Judith, who was pale with alarm. "What is happening?" she repeated. "There's no one here. I got a text from Angel not long ago saying there was an emergency at your flat. I came as quickly as I could and found it empty and looking like that. The door was wide open."

Martha's stomach dropped in fear. "Was there blood?" she asked. She should have stayed with the Doctor. She could have helped him.

"I don't think so," Judith replied. From the background, it looked like she was stepping into a lift.

"Judith stop," Calder said.

To her credit, Judith stepped back off of the lift. They clearly trusted each other.

"It's Angelus," Calder said gravely.

Judith paled even further and murmured, "Oh my god."

Calder continued, "I'm doing the spell with Martha. Uh, this is Martha."

Martha waved with her free hand. Judith nodded politely in return.

"But if Angel texted you and he's broken out… Fuck, I should have taken his Palm. I'm such an idiot. I don't know if he's tracking you or...fuck is he tracking us?"

"Stay calm, Calder," Judith told him, proving the matriarch vibe. "Let's think for a moment."

"Can you get an invite into my neighbor's flat?" Calder asked. "Uh, try, oh, there's a sweet old lady in 305. She smells weird, but I bet you could schmooze an invite."

Judith gave him a gracious smile that should be impossible, considering the circumstances. "You're very sweet to be worried about me, but I can't help anyone if I'm hiding in a stranger's flat. Now." She paused, evidently thinking through the problem. "Where are the two of you? Does he know that you're trying to do the spell?"

"I think he was knocked out," Calder said.

"But it was clearly your first plan," Martha pointed out. "It sounds like you've done this before."

Judith nodded. "And it looks like you're at his flat. I think it's you two who need to get out. His first thought will be stopping you." She paused again, thinking, and then brightened up with a realization. "Oh! Calder, do you remember where Sanja Renato used to live? You went to school with her."

"Oh, yeah, she had a great party there once!" Calder said and then dropped his eyes, "Which is not the point."

"I'm sure it was wonderful," Judith said delicately. She was moving again. "Meet me there. If you think he might be tracking us, we should turn our Palms off. Now Martha, did you say something about the Doctor?"

"We left him there," Martha said, wondering how everyone was being so pleasant in the face of an obvious emergency.

"Oh dear," Judith murmured. "He wasn't here when I arrived. I checked all the rooms. Calder, your closet door was open and the shelves were emptied."

"Of course," Calder said, sounding annoyed. He stood up and moved across the room to a coat rack where he helped himself to a shoulder bag.

Martha blew out the candles. "Maybe he got away," she said, standing up and finding her way into the kitchen to grab a towel to wrap the orb in.

She could still hear Judith's voice coming from the phone- Palm, it was apparently called, now- saying, "We can hope he did; perhaps Alejandro will be able to use a locator spell or something to help find him."

"Wait, what?" Calder's voice replied. "Mr. Renato does spells?"

Martha was doing her best to keep up with the unfamiliar names. If she got separated from the group, it might be all she had to go on. Fortunately, there was a towel hanging on the fridge door. She grabbed it and dashed back to the living room.

"Yes," Judith was saying, and there was a definite tone in her voice. "And he might be able to help."

"I'll question that later," Calder said, busy packing in spell components. "Angel doesn't have an invite, right?"

"I don't think so," Judith said. "Alejandro mentioned that Angel should come to one of their meetings, but I don't think that counts even if the meeting is held at his house. Anyway, I don't think it'll be the first place that comes to Angel's mind to look for us. He thinks they're amateurs."

"Are they amateurs?" Calder asked, swearing as wax dripped on his hand as he shoved candles into the bag.

"They're a good starting point."

"Or Plan B anyway," Martha said as she finished swaddling the orb in the towel like an infant.

"We're heading out soon," Calder told Judith as he snapped the book shut in one hand. To Martha he added quickly, "Can you grab the bowl? I think that's everything." Turning back to Judith, he said, "I'm turning the power off on the Palm as soon as we get out of the building."

"I'll do the same," Judith replied. "See you soon. Be very careful."

"You be more careful," Calder said, shoving the book into his bag one-handed. "I don't like that he texted you."

"I don't like that he's probably heading straight for you. Don't take any streets that put you on the path between your flats. Stay in populated areas if you can."

"Yeah," Martha said, collecting the bowl. "Hang up. Phones off. Stay safe."

"Bye," Calder said.

"I love you," Judith replied, sounding both firm like it needed to be heard and dismissive like a goodbye, but without losing its sincerity.

They must have hung up because after a moment of starting at the device and pocketing it, Calder looked at Martha and nodded. "Ready?"

"Ready," Martha said, already heading for the door. "You know, for a badass champion with a sword on his back and a vampire mentor in a dark future city, you are all super wholesome."

Life as a changeling balanced on the knife's edge of being the best of both worlds and the worst of both worlds. For example, Ivy could still work magic after being struck by an iron bolt and so escape what would have been likely death had she been fully fae, but her arm continued to be useless and bleed long after Regent jerked the bolt from her arm.

"You lost it," he said, tossing the bolt aside onto the marble table while Ivy pressed a bloody rag back against the hole in her arm. She tried and failed to hold back the very human-sounding whimper as she moved her other arm to do it.

"I dropped it after being shot," Ivy corrected. "Twice."

"Do you know where the soul is?" Regent washed the blood from his hands in a ceremonial bowl he usually used for scrying. He shook the water lightly from his fingers, a few drops landing on his charcoal gray suit and making black spots appear on the fabric.

Ivy considered admitting that she had lost the final soul and letting Regent win the argument. The fae in her would rather die, so she put every ounce of concentration that wasn't focused on trying not to cry with pain and focused on everything she could remember about the confrontation.

The skinny man in the brown jacket and the woman in the red jacket she knew nothing about, but she had recognized the vampire with a soul and his Champion more by reputation than by sight. She had targeted the vampire specifically for that reason. There was a rumor that he would be a real distraction without his soul. A real and violent distraction. Ideally one that would focus on eating all of the humans around him and not tracking down the changeling that shot him.

"Yeah," Ivy said, gambling that the Champion was semi-competent and not dead in a ditch, "I know where it is."

Regent raised his eyebrows at her, but then checked the gold watch on his wrist. "Then I'll start the ritual," he said. "I expect you'll have enough time to go and retrieve the final soul before the stars are out of alignment."

Within two hours, then.

"I can barely use my arms," she said through gritted teeth.

"And whose fault is that?"

"I blame that Lauchley Champion. Since he shot me. Twice."

Regent nodded and finally made his way over to the shelf where he rang a small silver bell to summon one of the servants. "Davis will clean you up," he said. "Remember, if we get this right tonight, you can have a chance to return home. I'm counting on you."

Half an hour later, Ivy's arm wounds had been treated and wrapped tightly in bandages and covered with her fighting leathers. Between all of the extra support, quite a few painkillers, and a generous healing potion from Regent, Ivy could flex the fingers of her left hand and lift her right just above her hip. It was pretty pathetic when she considered she was about to go up against the Champion of the city. Not to mention a vampire that may or may not have taken her attack personally.

She would have to sneak in, steal the soul, sneak out, and get to Round Tower in time to open the portal to the land of the fae. All without being seen. Or being caught anyway. Half of her thrilled at the challenge. Half of her wanted to go to bed.

After calling four different contacts, Ivy tracked down the address of the Champion and hoped that he used his apartment as a home base as well as a home. Ivy just didn't have the time or the patience to track down any secret lairs today. Based on the shabby, low-rent look of the apartment building, complete with flickering lobby light, Ivy suspected this was not a man with enough money to fund a separate secret lair.

She spent some time skulking around the apartment building, sensing the auras of the area until she was fairly certain that the heavily warded apartment on the third floor was probably her best bet. On the downside, it was heavily warded and she was in no shape to be breaking down any doors; let alone magically protected doors. Never mind it didn't fit with her sneak in and sneak out plan.

Perhaps a glamor to disguise herself as...Ivy leaned heavily against a dark corner of the lobby wall, considering what might be the most appealing shape to the Champion. Should she go cliche: tall, blonde, and busty? She was particularly good at looking good when she had a mind to. But it seemed too obvious to work on someone who was so involved with the magical community. Stealth was her best bet.

Tired, in pain, and running out of time, Ivy set to work on conjuring the glamor. Every time she drew on the fae magic inside her, her blood felt like it lit on fire.

Ivy was just pulling the shadows around her into a cloak when someone came clamoring down the stairs. She just had enough time to look up and spot the tall man with the brown coat crash out through the front door of the apartment building. He ran off to the right like all of hell was chasing him.

Ivy considered her options for only a fraction of a second before she dashed after the man, slipping out and melting into the darkness.

God, the Doctor was heavy.

It didn't help that Angelus had to go the long way through the back alleys to avoid the questions and police calls that hauling around a limp body would inevitably invoke. Angelus might be strong, but the Doctor wasn't exactly a child, and his destination wasn't exactly across the street. It was a relief to finally make it to the back door of the Dragon's Crown.

Angelus was eager to get on with his un-life. He yearned for a good session of torture the way he yearned for a good shag, but certain things needed to be taken care of first. Most notably, the plan to restore his soul. Once that plan was off the table, he could start in with the torture and the systematic murder of each of Angel's friends (the human friends, anyway. The ones who wanted to bring Angel back). It was so convenient that the Doctor was the first one he managed to capture; the one guy who might be able to fix that gun in his pockets, and the one guy who still posed a technological threat to him. It was like the universe aligned just so Angelus could live in his freedom again. Like he was being welcomed back.

Angelus couldn't leave the Doctor's heavy, unconscious body in the back of the Dragon's Crown - what if he woke up? - but even if he could, it added some much-needed cred for Angelus to stride into the pub with live prey on his shoulder. Angel had kept a tight hold on his corner of the city, and that hold had been slipping for decades because of all the stupid wholesome decisions he kept making.

Angelus strode through the back halls to the front pub, where this time of night the patrons were more demon than human. A few heads turned when he entered and it started a ripple effect. Angelus didn't recognize all the faces present tonight, but they should all recognize him. He grinned his most charming, evil grin.

"That's right," he said over the quieting noise of the pub, "I'm back."

There was a disappointing smatter of applause; it had been so long since Angelus was free that no one present had ever seen him in his glory. Angel had integrated into this community with a crumbling reputation and weak walls of violence and aggression that were completely unsupported by the killing of innocents. Still, he got one or two cheers from demons who knew him a little better and what losing his soul again meant.

"And that means," Angelus added, "street-level human murder in my precinct is legal again, friends! Go wreck some havoc."

The applause and cheers were much more satisfying this time, and several creatures got up to go do just that. Angel had kept his little section of Galway safe from most demon attacks, which meant that the humans were more confident walking around alone at night there. Like fish in a barrel.

Grinning, Angelus went over to the bar to ask Marty if Nük was in tonight. Marty pointed, looking mildly surprised but not concerned about the Doctor's body over Angelus's shoulder.

Angelus went over to the indicated table.

"Hi Nük," he said, setting the Doctor's body down roughly on an empty seat.

The diminutive wood nymph cocked her head and grinned. "Congratulations on your freedom. You look very well," she said in ancient Greek. Nük understood modern English, but never spoke anything but ancient Greek or, sometimes, ancient Gaelic. Angelus's ancient Greek wasn't great, but since they had been playing kitten poker together for years, now, he understood her well enough.

"Thank you," Angelus grinned back. "I feel great. Liberated. Exhilarated." The Doctor's body slumped against Angelus as if to remind him that he was also tired from carrying him around in the back allies like some sort of shamed thief. Bastard. "Listen, you still owe me a favor from kitten poker. Agreed?"

Nük looked like she wanted to protest, but they both knew that she couldn't. "Agreed." she said. "So you're not going to share, then?"

"Him?" Angelus asked, gesturing to the Doctor. Actually…he could make bank selling the Doctor's blood. That wasn't a bad idea. For a much later phase of planning. "Not yet. He needs to ripen a bit. So: I'm cashing in."

"I'll pull his eyeballs out for you," Nük suggested. "Or did you have something else in mind?"

"You're so kind," Angelus said politely, because it was always a benefit to be polite to the fae. "But I have something else in mind. Very soon, I'm guessing, an orb of Thessulah is going to be used to reinstate my soul. I would like you to destroy it immediately. And all the others in town, if there are any. I'm not sure who has what in stock these days."

Nük spit on the ground. "Disgusting, crude magics," she said. She tapped her long, twig-like fingers on the table. "It is a fair trade. Equal to the favor owed. Shake, and I will do this thing."

Angelus extended his hand. Nük took it (his hand was so large compared to hers that he also took her wrist and half her forearm), and they shook.

"Thank you," Angelus told her, bending to heft the Doctor over his shoulder again. "And by the way, I love your outfit tonight."

Nük adjusted the gold necklace that draped in a most lovely way between her bare, supernaturally-perky breasts. "I stripped it from a cold corpse," she said. "It smells like death."

"You've never worn anything lovelier," Angelus agreed. "See you at poker."

Nük flashed her pointed teeth and started phasing away, driven by the deal that included the word 'immediately.'

"I fly," her high voice echoed in her wake.

Deeply satisfied, Angelus shifted the Doctor's weight. "And I walk," he said.