Access All Areas, Chapter 4.
22 Jan 2007 08:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
curiouswombatWell, I'm sorry it has taken so long, but under the cut is the next Chapter of the joint effort between ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
speakr2customrs and me.
This chapter is 3,500 words long, and contains little of a sexual or violent nature - so a G, I guess.
Usual disclaimer, as at the end of the chapter applies,
Previous parts are here
Chapter 4.
Dawn had already arranged to meet Milan, the Prague Watcher, in his office later that morning. He had both the ideal location and the ideal cover for a Watcher – he was a research Fellow in the university, with an office in the basement of the main library down beside the stacks. His Slayer, Jarmila, was a twenty-one year old student. She had been one of the youngest of the New Slayers created in 2003; although younger girls affected by Willow’s spell were still coming to light as they reached puberty and suddenly came into their full slayer powers.
The day was overcast and damp. Prague has a fairly extensive and modern metro system, with a station near the hotel and another near the university library, and so Spike would be able to accompany Dawn. They decided, though, that photographing and recording the walls of the dining room was a priority and so went down again as soon as they thought that breakfast would be over.
When they walked into the dining room there was a young man clearing tables; when Dawn asked if he minded if she took some photographs he smiled and said ‘No problem’. Dawn used not just her phone but a proper camera, with a better zoom and flash, to be sure not to miss any nuances caused by lost paint or over-painting. When the flash went off near the young man he looked up in slight surprise and then smiled, and continued with his task, just as Spike had predicted.
After a few minutes the waiter left the room without even a backward glance at Dawn and Spike.
“Pity I hadn’t bet you a tenner no-one would take any notice,” Spike commented, wryly.
“I wouldn’t have accepted the bet!” Dawn answered.
Back in their room Dawn e-mailed the pictures to Giles after encrypting them because, as she told Spike, “You never know – someone, somewhere, might be able to intercept an unencrypted crypt and make sense of it!”
“S’pose you’re right,” he answered, “but I really can’t see anyone being able to get anywhere near enough the existence of The Key to even think about it.”
………………
“It turns out that Berberoglu isn’t quite as crazy as he appears,” The Ferret said. “I had more of a problem than I had anticipated. I would not say that his mentality is normal but it seems that he is not actually insane.”
“Unbalanced rather than barking mad?” suggested Ethan.
There was a moment of silence before The Ferret replied. “That is correct.”
Ethan briefly regretted that videophones still were not in widespread use. He would have liked to have been able to see his partner’s face, to see if a puzzled frown was wrinkling the man’s brow, as Ethan guessed that the hesitation had been because The Ferret was struggling with the colloquialism and translating it into whatever his real native language might be. His English might be fluent and idiomatic but it was perhaps a little too precise for a true Englishman. It wasn’t important, of course, and Ethan sensed that asking questions along that line would not meet with a good reception. He dismissed the idle speculations from his mind and concentrated on the matter at hand. “Was he mad enough to understand about the Key?”
“More or less. I had to cast a spell to reinforce his perception,” The Ferret admitted, “but I managed to get through to him eventually. He has put men from his German operations at my disposal. They shall be arriving in Prague soon, by train and by car, and he has local contacts that will provide them with a safe-house. One of his right-hand men is to fly back with me tomorrow. He’ll act as the link between us and the German Turks. All we need is a target at which to point them.”
Ethan smirked. “I might well have something for them already.”
“So. You have been busy,” The Ferret said. “Explain, please.”
Ethan fancied that he could detect a hint of something Germanic about The Ferret’s phrasing, perhaps confirming his earlier deductions, but he put aside those thoughts. It was much more fun to dwell on the bombshell that he was about to drop, and the impact that it would have on the other man, and again he regretted that he couldn’t see The Ferret’s face. “The Key is right here in Prague,” he announced. “I felt its presence.”
………………
Milan, the Prague Watcher, was a man in his early thirties, about Spike’s height and weight, wearing what Dawn thought of as ‘smart casual’ attire. He had been happy to get Giles hand annotated notes on the Pravjec demons and spent some time discussing with Dawn whether they were likely to have been the cause of the mysterious deaths in a village some ten miles outside the city. He was a little wary of Spike at first but when Spike had displayed a knowledge of the demons, and even some passing knowledge of the village in question, Milan had become more relaxed with the idea of having a Master Vampire in his office drinking coffee and eating cake.
Dawn had smiled to herself at Spike’s passing knowledge of the village as she had heard about his last trip to Prague.
She explained that she was helping Giles with research into an artifact; most of the references to which were buried under a mass of cloaking spells which had taken a lot of magical power to lift even slightly. The impression she gave was that this lifting of spells to enable Giles to work had been extended to her purely because she was his personal assistant.
Milan was more than happy to show them the sections of the library stacks where assorted ancient, and exceedingly ancient, tomes were stored. Some of the books and scrolls had come from various religious houses around the country over the past century, often as an attempt to keep them safe from invasions, changes in government etc.; others came from even older collections, often saved from even older conflicts.
The Watcher in Dawn would have been fascinated by many of them for their own sake; the Key in Dawn was both thirsting for, and anxious about, any mention of itself.
Spike as a research colleague was, well, different. Milan looked on anxiously, as a father might do having handed his only son over to a suspected child-molester, until he realised that Spike was handling the books with care, and interest. Although comments such as “Hey – look! Genuine human bloodstain here!” did cause him to give the vampire strange looks.
Milan seemed much less thrown by Spike’s ability to read Latin than any of the Scoobies, or even Giles, had been in the past. He seemed to adapt quickly to the vampire reading out loud particularly gruesome sections of Greek or Latin manuscripts, with great relish, translating as he went.
Jarmila came in at lunch time with that ‘I am ready to spring’ look that slayers get around vampires. The Slayer was tall, fair haired, and graceful; she regarded Spike with suspicion as he turned casually to face her, having stopped mid-sentence as soon as she had touched the handle of the door behind him. Dawn she regarded with only slightly less suspicion.
However as they sat together in Milan’s office Jarmila unbent somewhat as she munched her way through the chocolate biscuits Dawn had brought with her. ‘Well done Andrew for remembering what her favourite item of British food was!’ thought Dawn, as the young slayer even began to discuss with both Milan and Spike possible tactics for dealing with the Pravjec demons.
‘Actually she is a bright slayer,’ Dawn thought. ‘If she had just walked in and regarded Spike as no threat, because she had been told he wasn’t, I’d have been worried about her. She’ll do well.’
During the afternoon, Jarmila having gone back to lectures, Spike suddenly said “It’s those buggers!”
Dawn looked up, as did Milan, who had stayed with them, although he had, as Giles had predicted, gone back to reading up his demons.
“Those bloody guys on horseback! The sodding ‘Knights who say Nee’.”
Milan looked blank.
Dawn said “The Knights of Byzantium?”
“Yeah. If ever I meet any more of the buggers I’ll do more than fart in their general bloody direction,” said Spike. “They’ll have more than a bloody flesh wound when I’ve finished with them!”
Milan looked even more blank.
‘Not a fan of Monty Python, then,’ thought Dawn, who had laughed her way through all the Python films with friends at university.
“I think I have come across one or two references to them before,” Milan said carefully, “Are they of importance?”
“Bloody idiots, all brawn no brain, still with sodding horses, no idea of moving with the times!” Spike continued.
Simultaneously Dawn answered “They might be. This isn’t the first time we’ve heard of them in relation to this particular artifact.”
………………
“Well?” The General stood with his arms folded across his chest and looked down at the Seer.
“The veil parted,” the Seer said. “Just for a moment. A spell was cast. Someone seeks to pierce the cloak.” She turned her eyes away from the scrying bowl and looked the General in the face. “Someone seeks the Key.”
“The Key is the Link,” the General recited. “The Link must be severed.”
“Such is the will of God,” agreed the Seer.
“Who seeks it, and where?”
“An evil man. A magician of power.” The Seer turned back to the bowl. “His totem is an animal. Small, fierce, ever seeking. A mongoose? No, a weasel.”
The General’s eyes narrowed. “A ferret, perhaps?”
“Ah, yes.” The Seer’s lips turned up in a smile that did not reach her eyes. “A ferret. The death that lurks to pounce on small defenceless things.”
“The Ferret. Indeed.” The General nodded slowly. “I have heard of this man. A spy, a seller of information, a thief. A killer. Where is he?”
“Here,” the Seer replied. “In Byzantium itself.”
“Impossible!” the General snapped. “The Key could not be hidden under our very noses.”
“I said not so,” the Seer corrected him. “I said only that The Ferret cast a spell here. I believe that he seeks to explain the Key to those who cannot pierce its protective veil.”
“Then he knows its location, or believes that he is close to discovering it,” the General deduced. “It was protected by the Slayer at one time. Does he gather forces for an assault upon the Slayer, or upon whoever succeeded her in the guardianship of the Key?”
“That would fit what I have observed,” the Seer agreed.
“Then he knows where it is?”
“Most probably.”
The General scowled. “We cannot permit this. The Key must not be allowed to fall into the hands of evil. The Beast is destroyed but the danger remains. Can you track him?”
“I have the scent of his magic now,” the Seer answered. “When he casts a spell I can sense it. But if he abstains then I can do nothing.”
“I shall set others to the task of searching in mundane ways,” said the General. “He can lead us to the Key and then we shall strike. The link must be severed.”
………………
Before dinner Dawn settled herself comfortably into the big armchair in their room with a cup of coffee and rang Giles, who had been very interested in the photographs of the crypt walls, and he was even more interested in Dawn’s description of her experience in the centre of the room in question.
“And then I heard a voice saying ‘Soustředit! Soustředit!’ He sounded a bit desperate. Spike didn’t hear it, and no-one else seemed to either, just me, and I really didn’t feel as if I was in the room any more. I asked Milan what ‘soustředit’ meant, and he said it means ‘concentrate’,” Dawn told him.
“I wonder if it is a magical echo of the spell used to create, ah, embed The Key in, er…” Giles began.
“Create me.” Dawn supplied. “I’m pretty cool with the concept these days, Giles; don’t worry about it upsetting me.”
“Yes, well, quite, good, create you, ah, yes. Yes, as I was saying, it must have been a most powerful piece of magic and bringing the object of the spell back to the focus seems to have created an echo. I don’t think it is likely to be a problem, as long as you avoid that point, but I will check with Willow and Mhairi and let you know what they say.”
Giles continued “And how did you get on in the university library?”
“Oh wow!” Dawn began, enthusiastically, “You totally would love it. Milan is surrounded by all sorts of books and scrolls. There are even a couple of books which seem to have gone there from here! Milan considered them to be extremely boring – he said that they had come from a tiny enclave of Catholic monks who seemed to have been cut off from their mother-house, probably by the Iron Curtain, and who had eventually died out because they simply all got too old. Which is not quite the way we know they died out, but seems to be what everyone thinks.
“Spike found the hotel information booklet and it just says that ‘the building was formerly a monastery but had lain derelict for some time before being renovated and converted to create this beautiful hotel you see around you today’,” Dawn quoted, in a slightly sing-song voice.
“Anyway,” she continued, “Milan wasn’t really sure why the books were in the university library at all, he thought they must have been donated, or come in as part of a job lot.
“Actually he said that if you were at all interested he would simply send them to you on permanent loan. I said that it would be a good idea – they would complete a collection that you had, although they weren’t really important. Spike says that unless we actually go and take them he reckons Milan will have forgotten totally by now.”
“Yes, Spike is doubtless correct. Perhaps you could remind Milan, and collect them, when you are due to come home,” Giles answered her. “Are they actually extremely boring, or is there anything of interest in them?”
“They are all different bits of vellum, and paper, and bits of scroll cut to size, bound up together almost at random. Some of it is simply the accounts – very, very dry”, Dawn answered. “But there is a whole chunk that talks of their God-given task to hold The Key to All Dimensions of Heaven and Hell and keep it from the Scions of Beelzebub – it looks as if it is a copy of The Rule of the Order. But it doesn’t explain how The Key worked, or what they were going to do with it. Milan thinks that, as we could only find a couple of books from the monastery of Dagon in his library at first look, if we really are interested in it there are probably other, similar books in the City Museum, or the National Museum, or possibly in the library at the castle, as the castle included a monastery of its own.
“We will go and do that, and we’ll go back to his library again of course, because there was a lot we didn’t get through.
“Then Spike found a little bit about The Knights of Byzantium – they were mentioned in a bit about a battle in the thirteenth century. And guess what? Milan said, he had a couple of references to them, and found, dah dah! This! Just listen!”
Dawn picked up a note-book from beside her empty coffee cup, and continued “Milan translated it for us -
“From the Commentaries of Přemysl of Trocnov, 1434, writing of the First Defenestration of Prague in 1419;
“Then did Jan Žižka lead a crowd to assault the monastery of the Order of Dagon, attempting to enter the building and throw the monks from the windows, but the brothers defended themselves with stout staves and subtle enchantments and repelled the attackers. Žižka organised a second assault, this time with the aid of a party of knights in the service of the Patriarch of Constantinople, and brought up a cannon mounted upon a wagon to breach the walls of the monastery. But God put forth his hand and the cannon would not fire. The monks held their ground and Žižka was smote upon the head with a stave and lost his senses for a time.
“Žižka was taken into the monastery and the brothers tended to his wound. When he came forth he spoke to the crowd and said that these monks were true holy men, sworn to poverty and good works, and that he had no quarrel with them for they did not practice evils such as the sale of indulgences. Many of the crowd then dispersed.
“This did not sit well with the knights from Constantinople and they told Jan Žižka that he must attack again, with more cannon, or else the knights would withdraw their aid from the Hussite cause. Žižka rejected their request and told them that he trusted the followers of the Greek heresy no more than he trusted King Sigismund. The knights then withdrew from the city and were heard of no more.”
Dawn paused. Spike appeared, tousle-haired, from the bathroom and flung himself across the bed, distracting her for a moment or two.
When she turned her attention back to the phone Giles was asking could she e-mail him that text, and then he continued “Although, even if the commentators in question heard of them no more, we know they were still around until we fought the last of them in 2001. But historically very interesting to see that the two different religious groups were fighting over The Key so long ago and that both were wiped out within the same year this century. Fascinating, absolutely fascinating.
“This is indeed proving to be a worthwhile trip already,” he went on. “Now, have the evening off, and go and enjoy yourselves,” he urged her and, after another moment or two, he rang off.
“Rupert impressed?” Spike asked.
“Very!” Dawn answered. “Now let’s go and sample the night-life of Prague.”
“My ‘business contact’ in Paris gave me the address of a good topless bar and an escort agency,” Spike volunteered, only to find himself being buried under a pillow.
As he fought his way out from under it, and pinned Dawn to the bed, he was spluttering with laughter, as he said “Call yourself a bloody Watcher? Nobody taught you you can’t suffocate a vampire, pet?” and it was some time before they were dressed and ready to go out at all.
………………
The General paused for a moment to admire his daughter as she ran through a kata. Such grace, such beauty, and such power. She seemed almost to flicker as she moved from form to form. Her speed baffled the eye. “Anna,” he called. “I have work for you.”
Anna broke off from her routine and walked from the mat. She bowed low towards the General. “What is your will, honourable father?” she asked.
The General gave her a fond smile. “You have been watching old kung fu movies again, Anna?” His daughter grinned and ran a hand through her long black hair. A tattoo high on her forehead was briefly exposed and then hidden again as the hair slipped back down. “We have an important mission and foes that, for once, might pose you a challenge.”
“Vampires?” Anna’s eyes lit up.
“No, not vampires,” the General said, shaking his head. “A foul warlock. He may have mortal confederates. Gangsters, drug dealers, criminals of the worst kind.”
Anna’s mouth twisted. Her eyes rolled upwards until she was staring at the ceiling through her fringe. “Like, bor…ing,” she drawled.
“They seek the Key,” the General went on. Anna’s mouth lost its twist and her gaze focused upon her father’s face. He had her full attention as he continued. “I have taught you the history of the Key and of how the Slayer protected it from the Beast. No doubt it is still protected by the forces of the Watchers. We cannot risk it falling into the hands of evil. The Key is the Link. The Link must be severed.”
“Such is the will of God,” Anna responded. “Do you think that it is still guarded by a Slayer?”
“Probably,” her father said. “We have learned that this magician, The Ferret, will shortly depart for Prague. We shall follow. There, God willing, we shall discover the Key. You must overcome its guardians and destroy it for all time.”
“Yeah.” Anna grinned. “Guardians? That could be interesting. Maybe, like you said, even challenging.” She clenched one hand into a fist and slowly rotated it. The muscles of her arm flexed and stood out in sharp relief. “I’ve never faced another Slayer.”
..........................................................................................
The characters in this story do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only and all rights remain with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the writers of the original episodes, and the TV and production companies responsible for the original television shows. BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER ©2002 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. All Rights Reserved. The Buffy the Vampire Slayer trademark is used without express permission from Fox.
speakr2customrs and me. This chapter is 3,500 words long, and contains little of a sexual or violent nature - so a G, I guess.
Usual disclaimer, as at the end of the chapter applies,
Previous parts are here
Chapter 4.
Dawn had already arranged to meet Milan, the Prague Watcher, in his office later that morning. He had both the ideal location and the ideal cover for a Watcher – he was a research Fellow in the university, with an office in the basement of the main library down beside the stacks. His Slayer, Jarmila, was a twenty-one year old student. She had been one of the youngest of the New Slayers created in 2003; although younger girls affected by Willow’s spell were still coming to light as they reached puberty and suddenly came into their full slayer powers.
The day was overcast and damp. Prague has a fairly extensive and modern metro system, with a station near the hotel and another near the university library, and so Spike would be able to accompany Dawn. They decided, though, that photographing and recording the walls of the dining room was a priority and so went down again as soon as they thought that breakfast would be over.
When they walked into the dining room there was a young man clearing tables; when Dawn asked if he minded if she took some photographs he smiled and said ‘No problem’. Dawn used not just her phone but a proper camera, with a better zoom and flash, to be sure not to miss any nuances caused by lost paint or over-painting. When the flash went off near the young man he looked up in slight surprise and then smiled, and continued with his task, just as Spike had predicted.
After a few minutes the waiter left the room without even a backward glance at Dawn and Spike.
“Pity I hadn’t bet you a tenner no-one would take any notice,” Spike commented, wryly.
“I wouldn’t have accepted the bet!” Dawn answered.
Back in their room Dawn e-mailed the pictures to Giles after encrypting them because, as she told Spike, “You never know – someone, somewhere, might be able to intercept an unencrypted crypt and make sense of it!”
“S’pose you’re right,” he answered, “but I really can’t see anyone being able to get anywhere near enough the existence of The Key to even think about it.”
………………
“It turns out that Berberoglu isn’t quite as crazy as he appears,” The Ferret said. “I had more of a problem than I had anticipated. I would not say that his mentality is normal but it seems that he is not actually insane.”
“Unbalanced rather than barking mad?” suggested Ethan.
There was a moment of silence before The Ferret replied. “That is correct.”
Ethan briefly regretted that videophones still were not in widespread use. He would have liked to have been able to see his partner’s face, to see if a puzzled frown was wrinkling the man’s brow, as Ethan guessed that the hesitation had been because The Ferret was struggling with the colloquialism and translating it into whatever his real native language might be. His English might be fluent and idiomatic but it was perhaps a little too precise for a true Englishman. It wasn’t important, of course, and Ethan sensed that asking questions along that line would not meet with a good reception. He dismissed the idle speculations from his mind and concentrated on the matter at hand. “Was he mad enough to understand about the Key?”
“More or less. I had to cast a spell to reinforce his perception,” The Ferret admitted, “but I managed to get through to him eventually. He has put men from his German operations at my disposal. They shall be arriving in Prague soon, by train and by car, and he has local contacts that will provide them with a safe-house. One of his right-hand men is to fly back with me tomorrow. He’ll act as the link between us and the German Turks. All we need is a target at which to point them.”
Ethan smirked. “I might well have something for them already.”
“So. You have been busy,” The Ferret said. “Explain, please.”
Ethan fancied that he could detect a hint of something Germanic about The Ferret’s phrasing, perhaps confirming his earlier deductions, but he put aside those thoughts. It was much more fun to dwell on the bombshell that he was about to drop, and the impact that it would have on the other man, and again he regretted that he couldn’t see The Ferret’s face. “The Key is right here in Prague,” he announced. “I felt its presence.”
………………
Milan, the Prague Watcher, was a man in his early thirties, about Spike’s height and weight, wearing what Dawn thought of as ‘smart casual’ attire. He had been happy to get Giles hand annotated notes on the Pravjec demons and spent some time discussing with Dawn whether they were likely to have been the cause of the mysterious deaths in a village some ten miles outside the city. He was a little wary of Spike at first but when Spike had displayed a knowledge of the demons, and even some passing knowledge of the village in question, Milan had become more relaxed with the idea of having a Master Vampire in his office drinking coffee and eating cake.
Dawn had smiled to herself at Spike’s passing knowledge of the village as she had heard about his last trip to Prague.
She explained that she was helping Giles with research into an artifact; most of the references to which were buried under a mass of cloaking spells which had taken a lot of magical power to lift even slightly. The impression she gave was that this lifting of spells to enable Giles to work had been extended to her purely because she was his personal assistant.
Milan was more than happy to show them the sections of the library stacks where assorted ancient, and exceedingly ancient, tomes were stored. Some of the books and scrolls had come from various religious houses around the country over the past century, often as an attempt to keep them safe from invasions, changes in government etc.; others came from even older collections, often saved from even older conflicts.
The Watcher in Dawn would have been fascinated by many of them for their own sake; the Key in Dawn was both thirsting for, and anxious about, any mention of itself.
Spike as a research colleague was, well, different. Milan looked on anxiously, as a father might do having handed his only son over to a suspected child-molester, until he realised that Spike was handling the books with care, and interest. Although comments such as “Hey – look! Genuine human bloodstain here!” did cause him to give the vampire strange looks.
Milan seemed much less thrown by Spike’s ability to read Latin than any of the Scoobies, or even Giles, had been in the past. He seemed to adapt quickly to the vampire reading out loud particularly gruesome sections of Greek or Latin manuscripts, with great relish, translating as he went.
Jarmila came in at lunch time with that ‘I am ready to spring’ look that slayers get around vampires. The Slayer was tall, fair haired, and graceful; she regarded Spike with suspicion as he turned casually to face her, having stopped mid-sentence as soon as she had touched the handle of the door behind him. Dawn she regarded with only slightly less suspicion.
However as they sat together in Milan’s office Jarmila unbent somewhat as she munched her way through the chocolate biscuits Dawn had brought with her. ‘Well done Andrew for remembering what her favourite item of British food was!’ thought Dawn, as the young slayer even began to discuss with both Milan and Spike possible tactics for dealing with the Pravjec demons.
‘Actually she is a bright slayer,’ Dawn thought. ‘If she had just walked in and regarded Spike as no threat, because she had been told he wasn’t, I’d have been worried about her. She’ll do well.’
During the afternoon, Jarmila having gone back to lectures, Spike suddenly said “It’s those buggers!”
Dawn looked up, as did Milan, who had stayed with them, although he had, as Giles had predicted, gone back to reading up his demons.
“Those bloody guys on horseback! The sodding ‘Knights who say Nee’.”
Milan looked blank.
Dawn said “The Knights of Byzantium?”
“Yeah. If ever I meet any more of the buggers I’ll do more than fart in their general bloody direction,” said Spike. “They’ll have more than a bloody flesh wound when I’ve finished with them!”
Milan looked even more blank.
‘Not a fan of Monty Python, then,’ thought Dawn, who had laughed her way through all the Python films with friends at university.
“I think I have come across one or two references to them before,” Milan said carefully, “Are they of importance?”
“Bloody idiots, all brawn no brain, still with sodding horses, no idea of moving with the times!” Spike continued.
Simultaneously Dawn answered “They might be. This isn’t the first time we’ve heard of them in relation to this particular artifact.”
………………
“Well?” The General stood with his arms folded across his chest and looked down at the Seer.
“The veil parted,” the Seer said. “Just for a moment. A spell was cast. Someone seeks to pierce the cloak.” She turned her eyes away from the scrying bowl and looked the General in the face. “Someone seeks the Key.”
“The Key is the Link,” the General recited. “The Link must be severed.”
“Such is the will of God,” agreed the Seer.
“Who seeks it, and where?”
“An evil man. A magician of power.” The Seer turned back to the bowl. “His totem is an animal. Small, fierce, ever seeking. A mongoose? No, a weasel.”
The General’s eyes narrowed. “A ferret, perhaps?”
“Ah, yes.” The Seer’s lips turned up in a smile that did not reach her eyes. “A ferret. The death that lurks to pounce on small defenceless things.”
“The Ferret. Indeed.” The General nodded slowly. “I have heard of this man. A spy, a seller of information, a thief. A killer. Where is he?”
“Here,” the Seer replied. “In Byzantium itself.”
“Impossible!” the General snapped. “The Key could not be hidden under our very noses.”
“I said not so,” the Seer corrected him. “I said only that The Ferret cast a spell here. I believe that he seeks to explain the Key to those who cannot pierce its protective veil.”
“Then he knows its location, or believes that he is close to discovering it,” the General deduced. “It was protected by the Slayer at one time. Does he gather forces for an assault upon the Slayer, or upon whoever succeeded her in the guardianship of the Key?”
“That would fit what I have observed,” the Seer agreed.
“Then he knows where it is?”
“Most probably.”
The General scowled. “We cannot permit this. The Key must not be allowed to fall into the hands of evil. The Beast is destroyed but the danger remains. Can you track him?”
“I have the scent of his magic now,” the Seer answered. “When he casts a spell I can sense it. But if he abstains then I can do nothing.”
“I shall set others to the task of searching in mundane ways,” said the General. “He can lead us to the Key and then we shall strike. The link must be severed.”
………………
Before dinner Dawn settled herself comfortably into the big armchair in their room with a cup of coffee and rang Giles, who had been very interested in the photographs of the crypt walls, and he was even more interested in Dawn’s description of her experience in the centre of the room in question.
“And then I heard a voice saying ‘Soustředit! Soustředit!’ He sounded a bit desperate. Spike didn’t hear it, and no-one else seemed to either, just me, and I really didn’t feel as if I was in the room any more. I asked Milan what ‘soustředit’ meant, and he said it means ‘concentrate’,” Dawn told him.
“I wonder if it is a magical echo of the spell used to create, ah, embed The Key in, er…” Giles began.
“Create me.” Dawn supplied. “I’m pretty cool with the concept these days, Giles; don’t worry about it upsetting me.”
“Yes, well, quite, good, create you, ah, yes. Yes, as I was saying, it must have been a most powerful piece of magic and bringing the object of the spell back to the focus seems to have created an echo. I don’t think it is likely to be a problem, as long as you avoid that point, but I will check with Willow and Mhairi and let you know what they say.”
Giles continued “And how did you get on in the university library?”
“Oh wow!” Dawn began, enthusiastically, “You totally would love it. Milan is surrounded by all sorts of books and scrolls. There are even a couple of books which seem to have gone there from here! Milan considered them to be extremely boring – he said that they had come from a tiny enclave of Catholic monks who seemed to have been cut off from their mother-house, probably by the Iron Curtain, and who had eventually died out because they simply all got too old. Which is not quite the way we know they died out, but seems to be what everyone thinks.
“Spike found the hotel information booklet and it just says that ‘the building was formerly a monastery but had lain derelict for some time before being renovated and converted to create this beautiful hotel you see around you today’,” Dawn quoted, in a slightly sing-song voice.
“Anyway,” she continued, “Milan wasn’t really sure why the books were in the university library at all, he thought they must have been donated, or come in as part of a job lot.
“Actually he said that if you were at all interested he would simply send them to you on permanent loan. I said that it would be a good idea – they would complete a collection that you had, although they weren’t really important. Spike says that unless we actually go and take them he reckons Milan will have forgotten totally by now.”
“Yes, Spike is doubtless correct. Perhaps you could remind Milan, and collect them, when you are due to come home,” Giles answered her. “Are they actually extremely boring, or is there anything of interest in them?”
“They are all different bits of vellum, and paper, and bits of scroll cut to size, bound up together almost at random. Some of it is simply the accounts – very, very dry”, Dawn answered. “But there is a whole chunk that talks of their God-given task to hold The Key to All Dimensions of Heaven and Hell and keep it from the Scions of Beelzebub – it looks as if it is a copy of The Rule of the Order. But it doesn’t explain how The Key worked, or what they were going to do with it. Milan thinks that, as we could only find a couple of books from the monastery of Dagon in his library at first look, if we really are interested in it there are probably other, similar books in the City Museum, or the National Museum, or possibly in the library at the castle, as the castle included a monastery of its own.
“We will go and do that, and we’ll go back to his library again of course, because there was a lot we didn’t get through.
“Then Spike found a little bit about The Knights of Byzantium – they were mentioned in a bit about a battle in the thirteenth century. And guess what? Milan said, he had a couple of references to them, and found, dah dah! This! Just listen!”
Dawn picked up a note-book from beside her empty coffee cup, and continued “Milan translated it for us -
“From the Commentaries of Přemysl of Trocnov, 1434, writing of the First Defenestration of Prague in 1419;
“Then did Jan Žižka lead a crowd to assault the monastery of the Order of Dagon, attempting to enter the building and throw the monks from the windows, but the brothers defended themselves with stout staves and subtle enchantments and repelled the attackers. Žižka organised a second assault, this time with the aid of a party of knights in the service of the Patriarch of Constantinople, and brought up a cannon mounted upon a wagon to breach the walls of the monastery. But God put forth his hand and the cannon would not fire. The monks held their ground and Žižka was smote upon the head with a stave and lost his senses for a time.
“Žižka was taken into the monastery and the brothers tended to his wound. When he came forth he spoke to the crowd and said that these monks were true holy men, sworn to poverty and good works, and that he had no quarrel with them for they did not practice evils such as the sale of indulgences. Many of the crowd then dispersed.
“This did not sit well with the knights from Constantinople and they told Jan Žižka that he must attack again, with more cannon, or else the knights would withdraw their aid from the Hussite cause. Žižka rejected their request and told them that he trusted the followers of the Greek heresy no more than he trusted King Sigismund. The knights then withdrew from the city and were heard of no more.”
Dawn paused. Spike appeared, tousle-haired, from the bathroom and flung himself across the bed, distracting her for a moment or two.
When she turned her attention back to the phone Giles was asking could she e-mail him that text, and then he continued “Although, even if the commentators in question heard of them no more, we know they were still around until we fought the last of them in 2001. But historically very interesting to see that the two different religious groups were fighting over The Key so long ago and that both were wiped out within the same year this century. Fascinating, absolutely fascinating.
“This is indeed proving to be a worthwhile trip already,” he went on. “Now, have the evening off, and go and enjoy yourselves,” he urged her and, after another moment or two, he rang off.
“Rupert impressed?” Spike asked.
“Very!” Dawn answered. “Now let’s go and sample the night-life of Prague.”
“My ‘business contact’ in Paris gave me the address of a good topless bar and an escort agency,” Spike volunteered, only to find himself being buried under a pillow.
As he fought his way out from under it, and pinned Dawn to the bed, he was spluttering with laughter, as he said “Call yourself a bloody Watcher? Nobody taught you you can’t suffocate a vampire, pet?” and it was some time before they were dressed and ready to go out at all.
………………
The General paused for a moment to admire his daughter as she ran through a kata. Such grace, such beauty, and such power. She seemed almost to flicker as she moved from form to form. Her speed baffled the eye. “Anna,” he called. “I have work for you.”
Anna broke off from her routine and walked from the mat. She bowed low towards the General. “What is your will, honourable father?” she asked.
The General gave her a fond smile. “You have been watching old kung fu movies again, Anna?” His daughter grinned and ran a hand through her long black hair. A tattoo high on her forehead was briefly exposed and then hidden again as the hair slipped back down. “We have an important mission and foes that, for once, might pose you a challenge.”
“Vampires?” Anna’s eyes lit up.
“No, not vampires,” the General said, shaking his head. “A foul warlock. He may have mortal confederates. Gangsters, drug dealers, criminals of the worst kind.”
Anna’s mouth twisted. Her eyes rolled upwards until she was staring at the ceiling through her fringe. “Like, bor…ing,” she drawled.
“They seek the Key,” the General went on. Anna’s mouth lost its twist and her gaze focused upon her father’s face. He had her full attention as he continued. “I have taught you the history of the Key and of how the Slayer protected it from the Beast. No doubt it is still protected by the forces of the Watchers. We cannot risk it falling into the hands of evil. The Key is the Link. The Link must be severed.”
“Such is the will of God,” Anna responded. “Do you think that it is still guarded by a Slayer?”
“Probably,” her father said. “We have learned that this magician, The Ferret, will shortly depart for Prague. We shall follow. There, God willing, we shall discover the Key. You must overcome its guardians and destroy it for all time.”
“Yeah.” Anna grinned. “Guardians? That could be interesting. Maybe, like you said, even challenging.” She clenched one hand into a fist and slowly rotated it. The muscles of her arm flexed and stood out in sharp relief. “I’ve never faced another Slayer.”
..........................................................................................
The characters in this story do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only and all rights remain with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the writers of the original episodes, and the TV and production companies responsible for the original television shows. BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER ©2002 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. All Rights Reserved. The Buffy the Vampire Slayer trademark is used without express permission from Fox.
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no subject
Date: 28/04/2007 09:19 pm (UTC)Love the ease of the relationship with Dawn and Spike and Giles' acceptance of it and them as a team. Excellent.
Kathleen
no subject
Date: 28/04/2007 10:51 pm (UTC)