by Nancy Holder
Cordelia’s voice was wobbly. “Buffy, where are we?”
“In the basement, far as I can tell,” Buffy replied, staying calm.
“What’s happening? What did they do to us?”
“They drugged us,” Buffy replied angrily. She’d been so stupid. Where was her spider sense when she needed it? Why had she pulled this prank? When would she stop being sixteen?
Maybe a little sooner than she’d expected, from the look of things.
“Why?” Cordelia demanded. “What are they going to do to us?”
“I don’t know.” Buffy was still looking, still assessing. It took extra effort to respond to Cordelia, but she knew she had to keep the other girl calm enough to help with their escape—if they could pull one off.
Cordelia, however, was measuring eight-point-oh on the freakout scale. She sobbed, like a little girl, “I want to go home!”
A voice from the darkness said dully, “No one’s going home…”
It was a girl, probably once pretty, but whose hair now hung in greasy strings and whose face was chapped with lips parched. “Ever,” she said, without fear, without hope.
Terrifying much?
“One of them’s different from the others. Nicer,” she went on.
Buffy breathed, “Tom,” at the same time she realized he was the one whose back Richard had been carving.
As if Buffy had called to him, Tom turned around and looked straight at her. Two of the hooded figures slipped a teal-green robe over his shoulders.
The girl nodded. “He’s the one to watch out for.”
Tom strode over to the girls as if he were the king of beasts. He gazed at Buffy for a long, creepy beat. Then he said, “She’s last.”
Cordelia spoke up. “Last? For what? Who’s first? Answer me! Who’s first?”
Tom ignored her. He walked back to the pit and emptied three stones out of a small black pouch.
“Three stones,” Buffy noted. “Three of us.”
“Buffy!” Cordelia pleaded.
“Stay calm,” Buffy said firmly. “We’ll get out of this.”
Tom poured water over the stones and put them on the side of the pit.
“Why’d I ever let you talk me into coming here!” Cordelia wailed. Buffy’s lips parted at Cordelia’s selective memory. Well, she’d known the job was dangerous when she took it.
Only, not really.
* * *
Summoned by Giles, Angel had arrived at the library. He and the Watcher were standing in front of one of the glass windows, and Willow was staring directly into the window, agog.
Angel said, “She found the bracelet in the cemetery, near the south wall.”
Willow kept staring.
Giles pondered a moment. “South wall.” Then he turned to Willow and said, “What are you doing?”
Busted. Willow managed, “Oh. Sorry. The reflection thing… that you don’t have,” she said to the vampire. “Angel, how do you shave?”
She moved on. “South wall, that’s near the college, and …” Oh, no.
“The fraternity house,” she added, beginning to wig. The Delta Zeta Kappa fraternity house!
“A fraternity?” Giles asked.
Willow nodded wildly. She was so upset that she was experiencing a communications meltdown. No, no, no, no!
Angel put in, “Could they be taking these girls?”
Still unable to make a sound, Willow nodded.
“Let’s get out there,” Angel said.
The two men started to leave as Willow tried and tried and finally eeked out, “Buffy!”
Giles gave his head a little shake. “We don’t know if this is concrete. Let’s not disturb her until—”
“Is there,” Willow confessed. “With Cordelia. They went to a party at the Zeta Kappa house!”
Giles was astounded. “She lied to me?”
“Oooh,” Willow said, not overjoyed in her important new position as secret breaker.
“Did she … have a date?” Angel asked, likewise not overjoyed.
“Oooh,” Willow said, then pretty much just lost it. “Why do you think she went to that party?” she demanded of Angel. “Because you gave her the brush off!”
Then she turned her epic wrath on Giles. “And you never let her do anything, except work and patrol and … I know she’s the Chosen One, but you’re killing her with the pressure. I mean, she’s sixteen going on forty!”
She was mad at everybody, including life, for handing Buffy this huge, unfair plate of yucky duties and responsibilities. It was like being forced to eat every single meal in the cafeteria for the rest of your life. It was like never having hot water in your house. It was like …
Like waking up every morning knowing that vampires and demons were going to follow you all over the place and try to kill you unless you killed them first, and meanwhile you had to pass history and never tell your mother why you got in so much trouble all the time.
She went back to Angel, not finished with him. He was hurting Buffy the worst. “And you. I mean, you’re gonna live forever. You don’t have time for a cup of coffee?”
Willow took a deep breath, no less surprised by her ballistic monologue than Giles and Angel.
“Okay,” she said. “I don’t feel better now and we gotta help Buffy.”
She led the way.
They followed.
* * *
Xander carried his clothes as he stomped away from the frat house. “One day I’ll have money, prestige, power,” he stewed. “And on that day, they’ll still have more.”
Like whatever bozo owned this flashmobile, he thought angrily, glaring down at the wicked red car at the curb. Then he looked harder. The license plate read QUEEN C.
He looked around, started to move.
It was not time to leave just yet.
* * *
Stony-faced and very much in command, Tom stood on the stairs that led to the frat house main floor—and freedom—with the long sword in his hands. He said reverently, “Machida.”
“In his name,” the others chanted, like the monks on that CD Willow had. The monk-chanting one.
He started going down the stairs. “We who serve you, we who receive all that you bestow, call upon you in this holy hour.” He walked toward the girls without looking at them.
Then he turned toward the pit. “We have no wealth, no possessions, except that which you give us.”
His fellow psychotics intoned, “Except that which you give us.”
He put the sword into Richard’s outstretched hands. “We have no power, no place in the world, except that which you give us.”
The brothers murmured again, “Except that which you give us.”
Cordelia said to Buffy, “What are they, some kind of cult?”
“A psycho-cult,” Buffy answered. No CD for this group.
“You’ve got to do something,” Cordelia prodded.
“It has been a year since our last offering,” Tom continued. “A year in which our bounty overflowed. We come before you with fresh offerings.” He gestured toward the girls.
Uh-oh.
“Offerings,” Cordelia repeated. “He’s talking about us?”
The other girl glared at her. “Do you see anyone else chained up in here?”
“Accept our offerings, dark lord,” Tom prayed. Buffy pulled on her chains. “And bless us with your power. Machida!” He extended his hand over the pit.
“Machida!” the others echoed.
One, two, three. Tom dropped the stones into the pit.
Cordelia asked shakily, “What… what’s down there?”
“Come forth,” Tom said. His arms were raised. “And let your terrible countenance look upon your servants and their humble offering! We call you, Machida!”
“In His name! Machida!”
They all knelt, Richard with the sword before him, like some knight in shining armor. Yeah, right.
Cordelia began to wig. “There’s something down there. And th
ey’re going to throw us down there with it!”
Suddenly a subsonic rumbling vibrated the stones beneath Buffy’s feet. It was like an earthquake as the sound began to fill the cavern.
Buffy said, “I don’t think so.”
Cordelia grabbed that notion and squeezed it for all it was worth. “No? Well, that’s good. That’s . . .”
Buffy hated to state the obvious. “I don’t think we go to it. It comes to us.”
The rumbling intensified. The earth shook. Something was coming. Something was escaping the pit.
For a moment, Buffy was so stunned she couldn’t register what it was. She had battled many dark things, many hideous monsters. But she had never seen a thing like this. It was half man, half snake, the upper half muscular, with a man’s torso and arms, but webbed, and as it examined the girls with its blank, snakelike eyes, Buffy took in its hideous, long fangs and reptilian face.
From the waist down, it was all snake, and she had no idea how long it was as it trailed into the depths of the pit.
Cordelia began shrieking. She completely and totally panicked, no passing Go. Buffy could not go there. She wanted to, but she had to try to save them.
But as she stared at the monster, she wondered if this time the Slayer had met her match.
The monster thrust out its chest and spread its arms over its followers as if to embrace them. Tom raised his arms and said, “For he shall rise from the depths and we shall tremble before him. He who is the source of all we inherit and all we possess. Machida!”
The others shouted, “Machida!”
Tom went on, “And if he is pleased with our offerings, then our fortunes shall increase.”
The others cried, “Machida, let our fortunes increase.”
“And on the tenth day of the tenth month he shall be enhungered and we shall feed him.”
The monster wheeled on his long tail and examined the girls. Cordelia yelled, “Feed him? Feed him?”
Buffy yanked as hard as she could at her own chains as the monster swooped toward Cordelia. They held fast. Buffy kept struggling. There had to be a way out. Had to be …
* * *
Angel, Willow, and Giles climbed out of the Giles-mobile and headed for the darkened Delta Zeta Kappa fraternity house.
“Looks like everyone’s gone,” Willow said hopefully. Angel echoed her hope. Maybe Buffy and Cordelia were home, snug in their beds.
“Hey,” someone said. Angel turned.
“Hi.” It was Xander, dressed in a hooded black robe. He pulled the hood back and said, “What are you doing here?”
Willow said in a rush, “There’s a bunch of girls missing, the Zeta Kappas may be involved, and Buffy . . .” She paused. “Are you wearing makeup?”
Xander rubbed his face. “No. I think Buffy’s still inside somewhere with Cordelia.” He pointed. “That’s her car.”
Angel began to get very worried.
Giles gestured to Xander’s robe. “Why are you wearing that?”
Xander said, “Oh, I found it in their trash.” He gestured toward the house. “I saw them through the windows. They were wearing robes and went to the basement. I was going to use it to sneak in.”
Giles said, “They may be involved in some kind of ritual.”
Angel’s fear lit his impulses like a fuse.
Willow added, “With the missing girls.”
Angel looked at the house, his anger mounting. “With Buffy,” he said. With his Buffy. Those smug young men . . . those rich fools, who thought they could do anything to anyone. If any of them had so much as touched her, he would rip out their throats.
He felt his face change and growled deep in his throat. The others—usually so friendly—took a step back, obviously afraid of him.
“Okay,” Xander said with admiration. “That is the guy you want to party with.”
* * *
Machida rose up in all his sickly blue, leathery glory, ready for the first course: Cordelia.
Cordelia shrieked and struggled as he dove toward her.
“Hey, Reptile Boy!” Buffy shouted at him, hoping to divert his attention.
Machida turned his gaze on her.
“No woman speaks to him!” Tom commanded.
“You don’t want her,” Buffy said to the monster. “She’s all skin and bones. Half an hour later, you’ll be hungry. Why don’t you try me?”
“I told you to shut up!” Tom backhanded her hard, nearly knocking her out. Then he drew the sword and angled it across her neck. “Speak again and I’ll cut your throat.”
* * *
Xander knocked on the door to the house. It opened.
Ah, there were his old buddies, No-Neck and Buzz Job. Xander kept his face hidden inside the robe and mumbled, “Got locked out dumping the trash. Let me in. I don’t want to miss the ‘you know what.’ ”
No-Neck was a little suspicious, but he unlatched the door and mumbled, “Come on.” That was because he was one of those stupid, mean guys everybody has on his football team.
Xander flew at him and hit him as hard as he could in the face. No-Neck staggered backward as Xander said, “Where are they?” before he doubled over, grabbing his fist in pain. Then Buzz Job charged him.
Angel flew over the transom, decked Buzz Job, and moved aside so Willow and Giles could get inside.
* * *
Two of the robed guys unchained Cordelia and held her as she fought them in a frenzy.
From above, the sounds of fighting and crashing alerted Tom, who said, “Something’s going on upstairs. Go. Go!” to several of the hooded figures. They dashed up the stairs. Tom said to Machida, “Feed, dark lord.”
Cordelia thrashed and screamed as the hooded figures clutched her.
Machida dove at her.
She screamed and screamed as the creature grabbed her; and while it appeared that all hell was breaking lose, Buffy broke lose, too. With every ounce of her strength, she ripped her chains right out of the wall. As Machida gripped Cordelia and opened wide for the first delectable bite, Buffy smashed him in the head. He dipped forward, then reared back against the wall of the pit, growling.
The two hooded Zetas released Cordelia, who darted out of the way as Buffy kicked one in the head, then spun and took out the other one with a back kick.
In a rage, Tom picked up the long sword and charged her. She ducked and backed away just in time as the razor-sharp blade nearly took off her head.
* * *
Upstairs, the Zetas met the cavalry.
Angel threw a robed guy to the floor. Willow jumped over the guy’s body and headed for the cellar door, disappearing inside. Xander rode No-Neck piggyback, and hit the guy on the head over and over and over.
“That’s for the wig,” he said. Wham. “That’s for the bra.” Wham.
Giles rattled another door. A Zeta charged him. Giles straightened and decked him, looking mildly pleased with himself.
Willow flew back out through the cellar door and shouted, “Some guy’s attacking Buffy with a sword!” Then she processed what she’d just seen downstairs and added, “Also, there’s a really big snake.”
Xander was riding some guy like a bucking bronco, smashing him over the head, and saying, “That’s for the makeup and that’s for the last sixteen and a half years!”
Xander gave the guy one last good wallop and leaped off. The guy fell forward. Willow winced as he crashed right onto his face.
Angel decked two more guys. Willow realized her menfolk hadn’t heard her and tried again.
“Guys, Buffy, snake, basement, now!”
Everyone got it that time. They charged the basement door.
Angel smashed one more face in on his way downstairs.
* * *
It’s just a battle like any other, Buffy told herself. But it wasn’t. There were more bad guys than usual. And one of them was a lot bigger, too.
She scrambled away from Tom as he smashed the sword into the ground.
“You …�
� he said dangerously. “I’ll serve you to him in pieces.”
He swung hard. Buffy ducked and countered with the chain from the wall, wrapping it around his neck. His eyes went wide with surprise and pain.
“Tom,” she said, “you talk too much.” She gave him a rockin’ roundhouse punch and he flew across the room, demolishing a table with candles and stuff on it.
Then she registered that Angel, Willow, Xander, and Giles were tearing downstairs as Machida made another concerted effort to devour Cordelia.
“Helllllppppp!” Cordelia shrieked.
Buffy jumped up on the ledge of the pit with the sword and swung at Machida. “Back off, wormy!” she shouted.
The monster growled. She brought the sword down hard and fast in the middle of its body, hacking it in two.
It was over.
Giles ran to collect Cordelia. Willow and Xander hurried off to the other girl who was being held captive. Buffy stood alone.
Filled with emotion, Cordelia wailed, “You did it. You saved us.”
She walked right past Buffy and sank into Angel’s arms. Angel looked hard at Buffy, who looked down. Okay. He didn’t love her. That was okay. She didn’t care. She had nearly died; what did he matter in the Slaying scheme of things?
Cordelia went on, “I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my whole …” She fought back tears as Angel moved away from her and went to collect Tom. “You guys,” she said, “I really … hate you guys. The weirdest things always happen around you.”
Willow and Xander helped the other girl up the stairs. As Tom walked past with Angel, Cordelia whirled on him. “You’re going to jail for about fifteen thousand years.”
Tom glared at her and went up the stairs, Angel following closely behind.
* * *
Giles stood alone with Buffy. Buffy made her little pout face—the one that did not affect him, ever, no matter how glad he was to see her alive—and said, “I told one lie. I had one drink.”
“Yes, and you nearly got devoured by a giant demon-snake,” he shot back. “The words let that be a lesson are a tad redundant at this juncture.”
“I’m sorry.”
He could tell she meant it. He gave ground. “So am I.” His grave sense of responsibility compelled him to add, “I drive you too hard because I know what you have to face. From now on,” he promised, “no more pushing, no more prodding.” He paused, continued. “Just an extraordinary amount of nudging.”