Part Seventeen

The wind blew as a huddled figure opened the back door to a small abandoned inn on Chestnut Avenue and South Street. He took one quick look around, then quickly went through it.

Taking off his coat and hat, the man rolled his shoulders as a small light went on behind him. “I did not make contact with the Slayer or with Rupert Giles.”

“That is very bad, very bad,” whispered a voice behind him. Travers turned to look at the elderly man and the people that had fanned out behind him. Cautiously, Travers flicked his brown eyes to look at the important people before him, men and women who helped protect and shape the normal world they lived in… and destroy the supernatural world the common man ignored.

The people that fanned out before him were of all ages, the oldest being well over ninety to the young age of sixty-one. Though Travers knew that the older men and women were retired, he still could see that they all still looked as he thought the High Council of Watchers should be, old, dedicated, judgmental and righteous. And right now, they collectively looked at him with that same judgmental eye.

An old man slowly moved forward, drawing Travers attention. At the age of ninety-eight, Signor Antoinio du Pontiers was the oldest of the retired High Council members, and the most fearsome. He stood as tall as his aged frame would allow him, and held his cane like a weapon. Craggy, snow-white eyebrows lowered, as Signor du Pontiers demanded, “What do you have to report, Travers?”

Travers cleared his throat, not out of nervousness, but out of caution. He was not afraid of these people because he would never admit to himself that he was afraid of them. No, he cleared his throat because he should treat them with respect. When this incident with the assassins was all over, the High Council would see that he was worthy and that he should be elevated to have his own seat. “Nothing, Signor. The Slayer and Rupert Giles still cannot be found, and they are not at his home or at his workplace. When I contacted them within the past hour, my men were still looking for them. And the Mother of the Slayer.”

“This is very bad,” said an elderly woman with snow-white hair. She shook her head as she clutched her trembling, aged hands together. She looked at Travers, then at Signor du Pontiers. She held on to the Signor’s arm tightly. “Something must be done, Signor. We must find them all, the Slayer, Wyndham-Pryce and Rupert Giles…before anything happens to them. They are the keys to stop this slaughter.”

“More visions, Seer Williams?” Signor du Pontiers asked as he looked at his aged companion. “What did you see? Whom did you see?”

“Many things, things I could not make sense of,” Seer Williams said with a shake of her head. “A girl with long black hair, the Slayers from the past and present, faces I do not know, and others that I do…a river of blood that washes away the remains of snakes. And in the center of it all is the girl with long black hair and the Slayer… My dreams frighten me, Signor, something must be done.”

“Something will be done, Seer Williams,” Travers said with a nod of his head. He looked to his side, at a man several years his junior. The man kept an alert eye on the window as he listened to the murmuring in the room. “Archer, report. Is the perimeter secured?”

“It is, sir,” Archer said with a nod of his head. “Rivera and Ismat are on watch on the west and the east ends of the house while Halpern and Wong are on watch at the north and south. Therron and Sangiorgio are making the rounds.”

“Has Colter and Webster returned? And what about Reinhard and Frode? have any of them reported in?” Travers demanded as he looked at Archer. “Did they find the-the Mother of the Slayer?”

“They did not report since an hour ago and none of your men have return with her,” said a distinguished looking man with graying brown hair as he stepped forward. Though his shoulders were hunched over from too many years of research, his hazel eyes were sharp as they locked on to the face of Quentin Travers. “I still do not understand why we should need the woman. She is a civilian and the only people we must contact are the Slayer and my grand-nephew-”

“I beg to differ, Lord Jerome,” Travers said through gritted teeth. He made a concentrated effort to make his voice sound authoritative, yet polite. “If the Slayer and Rupert are in hiding from the assassins, the only people that would definitely know where they are would be the Slayer’s mother and her friends.”

“But if the Slayer were protecting them, then they would not know where she and Rupert are, they would merely know that they are safe,” Lord Jerome said smoothly as he looked at Travers like a disgusting bug in one’s soup. “Then your need of the woman would be quite unnecessary-“

Just then the door burst open, and a man staggered in, falling at the feet of Travers. His face was a mask of blood and dirt. “Sirs-please-Webster-he’s-he’s dead-we-I-“

Falling to his feet, Travers grabbed hold of the man’s shoulders. “Colter! Grab a hold of yourself, man! What happened? Where is Webster? What happened? Report!”

“Webster-we-we were following the Summers woman, the Mother of the Slayer,” Colter gasped as he grabbed Traver’s lapels with trembling hands. “I-I followed her from her house-Webster took over when I was stopped by a traffic light-they were driving around-they drove around, sir-Oh god! The fire! The fire, sir!“

“Yes, yes, they were driving around,” Travers said impatiently. He shook the man’s shoulders again. “What of it? Did she lead you to the Slayer-“

“Let the man up, Travers,” Lord Jerome said sharply as he lifted the man up from the floor. He gave Travers a steely look. “Can’t you see the man is in shock? Archer! Get a glass of water and my first-aide kit!”

With a steely jaw, Travers stood impotently as Lord Jerome took over the care of his man. He moved to the side, allowing him to seat Colter into a chair. He gave an exaggerated bow towards the two men. “As you wish, Lord Jerome.”

Signor du Pontiers walked over to Lord Jerome and Colter. He looked down at the younger Council member and gave him an embroidered handkerchief. “How is he, Oliver? Can you get anything from him?”

Lord Jerome looked at the older man worriedly. “I do not know, Signor. He’s in shock and needs medical attention. Colter? Can you tell us what happened to Webster?”

“Webster, sir! He’s dead! Dead like all the others!” Colter babbled as he looked at Lord Jerome unseeingly. “Burned he was! Like a crisp! I can hear him screaming-he screamed-”

Lord Jerome grabbed hold of Colter’s shoulders and looked into the man’s wildly unseeing eyes. “Colter! Listen to me! Pay attention! Pay attention to my voice-listen to me! Look at me.” Colter quieted down with a whimper. “Now, Webster followed the Slayer’s mother around- where were you, Colter?”

“I was-I was following him, we-we all went into a parking lot, she went-she went into the grocery,” Colter said as he concentrated on looking at Lord Jerome. “I-I motioned that I would follow her in-and I did-I think she knew I was following her-she had to have known, sir! She had to have! I know she did! I need a cigarette-may I have a cigarette-”

An elderly man came forward to give Colter a cigarette. It took several tries to light the lighter, but after a few seconds the shaken man took several short drags from the cigarette. His hands shook as he looked at the burning embers of his cigarette.

“All right, all right, Colter,” Lord Jerome said soothingly as he shot a look at Signor du Pontiers. “You followed her in-then what? What happened? Did you confront her?”

Colter shook his head. “No-no sir- I lost her in the aisles-between the milk and cereals-then-then I looked out the huge window-and I saw her leave-I ran to follow her-then I lost her again-I thought she was going to her car-I motioned to Webster to help me-we both started to go-go to her car-then-then-“

“Then what? What happened?” Travers demanded. He immediately softened his tone when the Signor and Lord Jerome gave him a silencing look. “You and Webster approached the woman’s car-than what?”

“It exploded, sir! The moment he touched the car door, there was a flash of-of light and it exploded!” Colter burst out. “The woman’s car exploded! And Webster’s dead! He burned, sir! I can hear him-I can hear him scream, sir! And the fire-the fire-”

“It’s all right, Colter. It’s all right,” Lord Jerome said soothingly. He looked at the Signor, who calmly opened the first-aide kit that Archer had set down. Pulling out a needle, he handed it to Lord Jerome.

“Colter-Colter, look at me. I’m going to give you a sedative. Something to help you rest, Colter,” Lord Jerome said soothingly. “It’ll help you sleep-“

Colter looked at Lord Jerome with a despairing kind of hope. “Will it erase the memory? Stop the screaming?”

“For a time it will,” Lord Jerome said conceded. He made the man look at him. “Do you want me to administer the sedative?”

Dropping the half-smoked cigarette to the ground, Colter simply gave his wrist to the High Councilor. After a few minutes, the tortured man’s labored breathing calmed and Lord Jerome rose from his crouched position. “He’s asleep, poor devil. Archer, call someone to help you carry him to a room. The man needs a professional doctor to examine him and rest. Or at least a small healing spell-”

“I will apply one immediately,” said a voice. Everyone looked at the small, frail woman who said this. “Do quit looking at me like I were half-dead, I can do a small healing spell.”

Lord Jerome hesitated as he looked at the Lady Arabella Spencer-Thompson. “I am not saying that you cannot do it, my lady. It’s just at if you overuse your powers-“

“Oliver, if my wife said that she was strong enough to heal the boy, let her,” said an exasperated voice. High Councilor Sebastian Thompson stepped forward and poked the younger man in the chest. “You Kenelms are much too prone to coddling. Now, stand aside and allow my wife to heal the man. Come, Archer and Therron, bring Colter.”

As Archer and Therron carried the unconscious man out of the room, everyone watched as the High Councilor followed his wife. Lord Jerome looked at the Signor. “Now we know that the assassins are here. And from what Colter has said-”

“It is entirely possible that the Slayer and your grand-nephew are in hiding from these assassins,” interrupted the Signor. He looked at his fellow Watchers. “We must find them.“

“We can find them easily, especially after this,” Travers said as he looked at the Signor. “It seems that the Mother of the Slayer knows that there are assassins after her daughter, and after that attempt on her life, she knows that they are here and willing to kill her.”

“Dear God, that poor woman,” Seer Williams said as she crossed herself. She looked at the Signor. “We must do something about her, Signor. Since she is nowhere near her child, she needs protection. Someone must protect her-“

“And someone shall, Seer,” Travers said smoothly. He looked at the Signor. “It seems that it is now necessary for us to make contact with her. Until the Slayer is found, we must now offer the woman our protection. It is our duty.”

“In other words, we must take the woman into our protective custody whether she likes it or not,” Lord Jerome said with narrow eyes. “I must protest this movement. If we take her now-“

“She would most likely go into hiding, and given the mystical activity of this area, it is likely that we might not be able to find her before something else does,” the Signor said gravely as he looked at Travers. Then he looked Lord Jerome. “I must agree with Travers on this, Oliver. We must protect the Mother. It is our duty and our privilege.”

“I would venture to say that she would know this town better that we do, Signor,” Lord Jerome said as he looked at Travers. “She is a native to these parts and knows about the creatures of darkness-“

“But in all, she is still a civilian,” Travers said with an ill concealed sense of satisfaction. “She does not have the training that we do, my lord. The Mother of the Slayer needs protection, especially in these times.”

Lord Jerome was about to say something when the Signor lifted his hand to stop him. “It is decided, the Mother of the Slayer will be brought to us and we shall protect her.”

“How can we protect her when we cannot even protect ourselves,” demanded a voice. An elderly man stepped forward to glare at Travers and Signor du Pontiers. “Those that wore the Mantle of Guardianship to the Destined were assassinated along with everyone at the Academy. Those people were considered to be our best and the brightest, all of them carefully tested personally by Director Travers himself. If the assassins are after her, I say let them follow her. And while they do that, we shall follow the assassins.”

“You wish to use the Mother of the Slayer as bait to capture the assassins?” Seer Williams demanded incredulously. “Langley, are you mad? She is a civilian! She could be killed!”

Lord Jerome stared at the older man. “Lord Wyndham, I hardly think that you are hardly thinking straight-to be using the Mother of the Slayer as bait-“

“I assure you, I am in full command of all my faculties, Lord Jerome,” said Lord Wyndham as he lifted a hand. He looked at the Signor with a hardened jaw. “As much as we try to protect civilians, and though we hold the Mother of the Slayer in high esteem, she is not as important as her daughter is. We all know this, the Slayer important to the fate of the world and we must protect her, but we are not required to sacrifice the Slayer’s life or our lives for civilians. No matter who the civilian is, and you all know that I am fully aware of that.”

“We all know of your loss, Lord Wyndham,” Signor du Pontiers said softly. “But there is no need for her to be used as bait just yet. We will keep your plan in mind-“

“Sir!” Lord Jerome said in a shocked voice. “To use her as-“

Signor du Pontiers held up a hand to stop the murmuring. “I said we will keep Lord Wyndham’s strategy in mind, not that we would use it immediately. As of this moment, we must only bring the Mother of the Slayer here, for her protection from the assassins. Travers, contact your men so that we may regroup. The Slayer, her mother and Rupert Giles must be found if we are to stop our slaughter.”

“Sir,” Travers said as the Signor walked by with Lord Jerome and Seer Williams at his side. He looked at the trio as they talked in low voices with the other Council members. One day, he would also be included into that inner circle. He felt someone touch his arm, and saw it was Lord Wyndham. “Yes, my lord?”

“You circled the entire town did you not, Quentin?” Lord Wyndham demanded anxiously. “Did you find anything or anyone?”

“I found no one, my lord,” Travers said as he looked at the older man. The lie rolled smoothly off his lips. “I saw no one of importance.”

“You did not find Wesley? At all?” Lord Wyndham said, disappointed. A worried frown furrowed into his forehead. “He said that he would make contact with the Slayer, he has to be here. He must be here.”

“I did not find Wesley, Lord Wyndham,” Travers lied smoothly. “But I am sure that he would have made contact with her by now. I’m sure that he is doing his best, and when he does that, he is a fairly good tracker.”

“Yes, yes he is,” Lord Wyndham said as he walked away, towards the other members of the High Council. Travers looked at the older man, then walked the other way, away from the High Council. Smelling something, Travers looked down and saw the cigarette Colter dropped. It was burning a hole into the raggedy carpet. Stepping on it, Travers continued on his way.

The Elder blinked as the images with the fire suddenly winked out. He looked at the people around him. “What say you? Do we judge them or do let them be?”

A young man with deep purple eyes stood as he looked at the Elder. His voice shook with disdain and fury. “They say they respect and revere the Mother, yet they do not do it. They know that they are to protect Dhara’s Chosen, yet they have killed many of them. I say, we bring them here to be judged, Elder.”

The Elder nodded, and waited until the young man sat. “I his vote what you all agree with?”

A chorus of ‘Aye’s shouted, and the Elder nodded. “Then we shall notify the Hidden Ones: Therron, Halpern and Frode that they must bring the High Council here.”

“And then what shall happen, Father?” demanded a soft voice. The Elder turned to look at his daughter. “What shall happen next?”

The Elder looked at the fire. “Then the Outworlder’s High Council shall know our reasons, and then they will be dealt with.”

Buffy sniffed as soon as she came into her dorm room. “Willow! What is that smell? You starting a perfumery in here?”

“Nope, just conjuring a healing salve for your mom, Buffy,” Willow said happily as she lifted a small jar. She watched Buffy put away her weaponry. “It’s kind of like the same stuff I made for you when you got really bruised the last time. I just changed the incantation and some of the ingredients.”

“Sounds cool,” Buffy said as she rolled her shoulders back. She bit her lip as her eyes fell on the picture of her and her mother. “Maybe I should have gone back to Giles’s place after patrol-“

Willow shook her head. “Giles will protect your mom, Buffy. He’s like the Iceman, Commando Rambo and Wolverine all rolled into one when it comes to her, you know that. Remember when he nearly dismantled that vampire with his bare hands over the summer? The one who thought she’d be easy pickings? And the normal guy in the museum that stared at your mom’s legs just a little too long?”

Buffy smiled slightly as she remembered that. “I remember them, but he’s still only one guy, Willow. He can’t handle a cadre of Watcher lackeys all by himself-”

“He has Wesley and Chloe with him, Buffy,” Willow interrupted gently. “I don’t think that they’d let them take your mom by force either. Supernatural or natural, Giles will protect what’s his, and your mom is definitely his. You know you see it whenever he thinks about your mom.”

“Please, don’t even mention the possessive male-ownership gene and Mom in the same sentence to me. I’d rather believe that they’re just reading books when they’re together at night,” Buffy said with a shudder. She picked up a washcloth and tossed it from one hand to the other as a frown passed the Slayer’s lovely face. “Those Watchers wanted to hurt her tonight, didn’t they?”

“I think they needed your mother for something,” Willow said cautiously as she looked at her friend. Buffy was strangling the life out of her washcloth. “Maybe, they wanted to talk to her-“

“By hurting her?” Buffy demanded as she looked at her friend. “By kidnapping her? Why would they need her other than to get at me?”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause they couldn’t find you,” Willow hesitated as she thought about it. “And your mother, while not registered in the phone book, still can be found. I don’t think that they were using total Giles-like logic. I think that this whole assassin thing is making them kinda desperate if you ask me. Being hunted down and not knowing why kinda does something to the logic factor.”

“Oh, please. That happens to me every night,” Buffy snorted with a roll of her eyes. “It’s no big and my logic is quite fine, thank you very much.”

“Point in case,” Willow teased smugly. Buffy stared at her friend, then grinned as she tossed her washcloth at her best friend. “You getting ready for bed? We need lots of rest before we start researching and getting ready for that meeting tomorrow night.”

“Yeah, I just need a shower,” Buffy said as she picked up her brush. After a few moments of silence, she turned to face Willow. “I want to know what you think, Willow. Do think that Ethan will really help us stop these assassins?”

“If only for Giles and Wesley’s sake, I really hope he does,” Willow said quietly. “I mean, I can see that he still cares about Wesley, but does he care enough?”

Buffy nodded as she stared to brush her hair vigorously. “Yeah, that’s another question that I keep asking myself.”

The dorm room fell quiet as both girls wondered what dangerous situations the next day would bring.