Chapter 2: Out in the Haze
Spike pulled to the curb and cut the car’s engine and lights. The only sound
that could be heard within the older neighborhood was the occasional cricket
chirp. No other sounds or illumination emanated from the nearby houses this late
at night and the absence of street lights meant the full moon offered the only
ambient light.
Closing the Desoto’s door, Buffy peered through the
darkness. The three story Victorian house, built long before developers had
heard of zero lot lines, stood far back from the street in the middle of a wide
tree shaded lot. Ancient oaks, leaves moving gently in the night breeze, cast
crazy patchwork shadows across the front dormers, while shuttered windows added
to the desolate air.
Buffy stared thoughtfully at the dark façade. “It
definitely has that whole Scream thing going for it.”
“It says
Halloween to me.” Spike cocked an ear. “Slayer, I can’t hear any sound in
there.”
“Okay, getting a serious trap vibe now.” There better not be
any insane vampires locked up inside. Been there, done that.
Spike
leaned against the car and scanned the street. “Slayer, wait a minute.”
“What?”
“Do you even have a weapon?”
“No. Remember I
thought I had a ticket for relaxing fun night, not springing a stupid trap
night.”
Spike opened his trunk. “Here.”
Buffy ran an
appreciative eye along the blade of the short serrated knife.
“Thanks.”
The couple walked quietly through the yard and climbed the
wooden steps to the large veranda. Upon closer inspection, the house appeared to
be in good repair. The front door gleamed with fresh paint and the porch had
recently been swept.
Spike touched Buffy's shoulder. “Did you notice all
of those silver designs wrought around the windows?”
“They're protection
wards. Giles taught me about them last year.”
“I bet that's why I can't
hear anyone inside; there are protection and dampening spells in place.” Spike
shook his head. “I don't like this Slayer. Someone living here knows a lot about
some very powerful magicks.”
Buffy sighed. Drat, I just knew there’d
be magicks mixed in somehow. “Yeah, I don't see an elderly lady and fifty
cats in there either. So let's find out who Mr. Chaplaine is and what he wants
with the Slayer.” She rapped the brass door knocker hard against the front door.
The door opened. “I wondered how long you planned to stand outside
staring at the house.” It was Kyle, the kid from the Bronze. “Please come in,
Ms. Summers.”
Buffy surprised, didn’t budge. “You need to invite
Spike.”
“When I saw you sitting with the Slayer, I thought you might be
joining us. Please come into our home, Spike.”
Kyle ushered them in,
closing and bolting the heavy door. Beckoning them forward, he led them through
a small front parlor where it appeared nothing had changed since Queen Victoria
had ascended the throne.
Continuing through the small room Buffy noticed
a pretty floral sofa and several small tables with delicate lacy ferns. Cute
knickknacks adorned any remaining empty space. No electricity in evidence,
several gas lamps had been lit. She decided the overall effect was homey in a
turn of the century sort of way.
Moving into the polished hall beyond,
Buffy almost expected women in beautiful floor length dresses to glide toward
her, offering tea and little iced cakes. Amused at her own thoughts, the Slayer
knew that would be the last thing to happen on the Hellmouth.
Unless
they’re some type of socially adept demon.
Spike, last in the odd
procession, was not equally entranced; quite the opposite, he was experiencing
an uncomfortable feeling of déjá vu. He had hated the ostentatious Victorian era
and it only held bad memories for him.
With obvious distaste, Spike
sidled around the uncomfortable horsehair sofa and tried not to touch any of the
tiny tables crammed with the ugly Dresden figurines. The vampire half expected
one of those simpering women the era had bred in abundance to jump out and offer
tepid tea and stale cakes, while looking down her nose at their lack of calling
cards.
A pleasant image of throwing a china shepherdess at an attacking
demon to save the Slayer flitted through his mind. Spike was trying to decide
which figurine would be best suited for the purpose when Buffy’s impatient voice
snapped him back to reality.
“Okay, Kyle, so why didn't you just tell
me the envelope was from you? Oh, and while you were at it, maybe what was
inside it, too. It would have saved us a lot of time and Spike's gas. Not to
mention this late night march through an old house.”
Spike watched the
Slayer poke Kyle strongly on the shoulder, causing him to stumble. Uh oh,
he's pissed off the Slayer. He should just run away now and save us all
trouble.
Kyle paused outside a closed door at the end of the long
hall. “The Bronze isn't the place to discuss anything that needs to remain
private and anyway the invitation wasn’t from me.” He knocked lightly and opened
the door. “It was issued by my grandfather. I was just the messenger.”
Kyle swung the door wider and moved aside to allow them entry. “Ms.
Summers, Spike, please allow me to introduce my grandfather, Roger Chaplaine,
Imperial Wizard of the World High Wizard Council.”
The distinguished
white haired man stood facing a large stone fireplace. Turning to face the blond
couple, he walked a few feet using a heavy wooden cane for assistance.
Smiling at them, he spoke in a low, smooth voice. “Ah, the Slayer. It's
so nice to finally meet you Ms. Summers. I'm sorry your Watcher, Mr. Giles,
could not attend. I would have liked to have met him also. I've heard so many
good things about you both.”
“William the Bloody.” He inclined his head
toward the vampire, his voice amused. “It's been a great many years since I've
allowed any vampire through my wards, especially a Master Vampire.” His eyes
crinkled. “But you are a most unusual vampire, one who deigns to help the Slayer
here on the Hellmouth.”
“I like to keep myself occupied.” Spike rocked
back on his heels. “And it's just Spike these days.”
The wizard gestured
to a pair of overstuffed chairs in front of the hearth. “Thank you both for
coming. Please sit down. We haven't a great deal of time and I have much to
explain.” He looked over at his grandson. “Kyle please bring our guests some
refreshments.”
Kyle left the room, pulling the heavy door closed behind
him.
Buffy sat gingerly on the chair. “Now, Mr. Chaplaine, what's so
important that I had to drive all the way over here?”
Spike couldn't sit
still; never fond of magicks, he could feel powerful energy crackling around the
room. He elected to stand behind the Slayer's chair.
Amusement again
crossing his face, the wizard sat down slowly in the chair opposite Buffy and
carefully placed his cane on the floor next to his chair. The fire flared,
briefly highlighting the sigils swirled deeply into the dark wood.
Staring at the wizard’s staff, the Slayer wondered again why he’d
requested her presence.
“I'm sorry I've had to be so secretive, Ms.
Summers, but there are spies in the most unlikely places and this is a secondary
residence for me, so I'm unfamiliar with the local denizens. I used Kyle and the
letter so no one would have a chance to interrupt our meeting.”
“Why
would anyone want to try?”
The elderly gentleman sat straighter in his
chair. “Perhaps I should begin by explaining that I am the head of an
organization which prefers to keep a very low profile. I'm retiring from my
position within the organization in ten days' time and my daughter Margot will
be assuming my position.”
He waved his hand briefly. “It is a time
honored tradition that whenever the head of the Council steps down, he has the
right to choose his successor.”
Still standing behind her chair, Buffy
heard Spike snort.
The wizard stared at the vampire. “I can assure you
that she is not being elevated because she is my daughter. Margot has studied
and planned for this moment since she was a small child and she is the most
qualified. There is no one who disagrees with the choice.”
Buffy
shifted. “Okay, got that, new boss. What does all this have to do with me?”
“My daughter has been kidnapped and I want you to locate her.”
Spike raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like someone disagreed.” He moved to
sit in the chair next to the Slayer.
Kyle chose that moment to reappear
with a tray loaded with tall glasses of iced tea.
Buffy took a sip of
hers and shot a questioning look at the wizard. “I don't think this is a Slayer
type job.” She looked between Kyle and his grandfather and asked, “Do you have
any idea where she is or who took her? Was it demons?”
“Kyle, why don't
you enlighten Ms.Summers about your recent activities.”
Kyle, slouched
against his grandfather's chair, stood up straighter. “My mother and I arrived
here together for a short holiday.”
“You came to the Hellmouth for a
vacation?”
Spike cut his eyes toward the Slayer. Buffy’s amazed
expression caused him to smirk.
Kyle raised his chin higher and replied,
“We used to live here when I was small and recently we've been here several
times. This house has been in our family for almost two centuries. The energy
here is strong but we control any darker influences, so it's a good place to
rest and rejuvenate.”
The boy started to pace the short distance
between the chair and the fireplace. “We'd been here for three days when my
mother received a telephone call. She didn't tell me who called, but said she
needed to meet with someone. I wasn't too concerned, my mother is a very
influential person and people often seek her out for various reasons.”
Kyle stopped pacing and looked down at his hands. “But she left and
never returned. I waited all night for her and then notified my grandfather.
That was two nights ago.” He stared at the Slayer. “I tried to do a location
spell the first morning but it didn't work.”
Buffy shook her head and
started to speak, but the elderly wizard lifted his hand to stop her. “Kyle is
still within his apprenticeship, he does not have the control nor the abilities
yet to do anything else and someone had already masked Margot's aura. My
grandson did the correct thing by notifying me.” Chaplaine nodded at his
grandson. “He also did the prudent thing by notifying no one else.
Ms.
Summers, it is vitally important that this not become common knowledge. If
Margot does not step forward to attain her position, she forfeits her right and
this will create a very serious power vacuum.” He grimaced. “Not only would this
be a grievous blow to our organization, it would throw many other forces out of
balance.
It is very important that the position at the pinnacle of the
Wizard Council not be vacant, however briefly. There are dark forces which we
help to hold at bay that would love to have the opportunity to, let us say,
cause problems. One of the problem areas would most assuredly be here at your
own Hellmouth.
I can assist you, but personally I must seem to be merely
visiting my daughter and grandson before the ceremony. I can not be outwardly
involved in any way; any sense of impropriety would cast doubt on Margo's
ability to lead.”
“I'm still not sure this is something that a Slayer
can help you with and besides, if the Hellmouth is gonna act up, it sounds like
I'm going to be busy.”
“Ms. Summers, if you will assist me in finding
my daughter I have something that I can offer you personally in return.”
“What exactly would that be?” she asked suspiciously.
“I
understand that your mother is seriously ill and as of yet no one has been able
to offer you any assurances about her ongoing health.”
Buffy's eyes
narrowed. “Just what does my mother have to do with this?”
“I can
see that she is healed.”
“Slayer, be careful. This sounds like very dark
magicks.”
“On the contrary, it is within the purview of the Imperial
Wizard during the period of their installation to grant a boon. Any request may
be granted, even within the realm of life and death. Locate my daughter, Ms.
Summers, and not only will dark forces continue to be kept at bay, but Margot
will save your mother's life.”
Buffy turned the thought over in her
head. Was it possible this elderly man could really make sure my mom would be
okay?
Spike watched the Slayer trying to arrive at a decision. He
knew Joyce had been ill for quite awhile. Dawn had filled him in on all the
different doctors and various tests and how they still didn't have a diagnosis,
much less the possibility of a cure.
Deep within the house, a
grandfather clock chimed twice.
“It is late and Ms. Summers has much to
contemplate.” Chaplaine gestured to his grandson. “Kyle, please show our guests
out.”
Buffy rose from the chair and the wizard caught her eye again.
“Ms. Summers, please decide quickly. The longer my daughter is missing, the more
fearful I become for her life.” He passed a hand across his face. “There is
even now a gathering darkness which waits any missteps during this transfer of
power.”
“I’ve already decided Mr. Chaplaine. I’ll do it.”
“That
is a wise choice Ms. Summers.”
“But I still don't see what I can do;
I'm not a detective. My job is to kill things, not find lost people, wizards or
even somebody's dog.”
“Detectives I could hire if so inclined.”
Chaplaine held out his hand, palm up and a delicate silver bracelet appeared
within a burst of pale blue light. “What I need is someone strong enough to wear
this and contend with whoever has taken Margot.”
Buffy watched the small
bracelet sparkle in the flickering light. “This must be worn by a Champion of
the People, but someone not well acquainted personally with magicks. That would
be you, Ms. Summers. A Slayer is the perfect candidate.”
The wizard
closed his hand around the bracelet and stared at Buffy. “This will help you to
locate Margot. It has other functions as well which may prove useful.”
The lines etched upon the old man's face suddenly seemed to have become
deep furrows. Chaplaine rose wearily. “Kyle will meet with you tomorrow at a
time and location of your choosing. He will bring the bracelet and explain its
functionality.”
Chaplaine extended his hand to the Slayer. He had a firm
handshake and Buffy felt the sudden tingle of extreme power within the grasp.
She realized that although the Imperial Wizard appeared elderly and somewhat
infirm, he was still a very potent force and not to be underestimated.
“Thank you Ms. Summers, you won't regret your decision.” Dropping her
hand, he gestured again to his grandson and turned back to the fire.
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enigmaticblues . J-I
just don't know where you find the time to edit my little attempts while putting
out the spectacular fare you grace us with every day. Thank you.