by Nancy Holder
Cordelia screamed, emitting several short, sharp, ear-splitting blasts before she reverted to uncontrollable sobbing.
A pattering sound drew Xander’s gaze to the bottom of the door. He shivered as a hundred ultratiny spiders scurried out of the closet and down the corridor.
“You can come out now, Cordelia,” Xander said.
“No one is going to see me in this condition,” Cordelia said. “Especially you.”
“But the spiders are gone,” Xander explained. “All your symptoms will go away.”
“Do you have any idea how much damage mutant bugs can do to a manicure?”
“Apparently not,” Xander muttered. The withering tone and skewed priorities proved Cordelia had been unchanged by the ordeal. However, he really wasn’t up for being put down with sarcasm and welcomed the diversion when a shriek sounded from the restrooms.
“What are you doing in here?” Harmony’s shrill voice was full of outraged contempt. “This is the ladies’ room, doofus!”
The door flew open and Jonathan ran out. He wasn’t red-faced with embarrassment or armed with a whip. He was white as a sheet and terrified. “Have you seen Andrew?”
“Not since he took your bullwhip, making the halls safe for innocent bystanders,” Xander fumed, remembering the shock that had driven him to his knees. Apparently, Jonathan had been hiding from Andrew in the ladies’ restroom.
“Catch it!” Andrew shouted as he raced around the corner—chasing the bullwhip.
Xander and Jonathan both stared as the bullwhip zoomed along the smooth floor. The leather thong had not suddenly come alive, Xander realized as it snapped and slid by. The snake curled around the cracker was pulling it. He stepped out in front of Andrew, stopping the boy’s pursuit.
“Let it go, Andrew.”
“But it doesn’t have enough power,” Andrew whined. He tried to pull free, but Xander was bigger than the nerd and held on.
Xander looked at Jonathan. “Is he talking about that snake?”
“Yeah.” Jonathan sighed. “It kind of takes control of your mind and makes you hit people so it can build up an electrical charge. Andrew’s still bonded to this one ’cause it isn’t dead.”
Xander recalled that Jonathan had snapped out of his murderous trance when Buffy cut the head off the first eel. He glanced at Pragoh. The demon picked up the bullwhip and shook a few wiggly things out of it.
Andrew kicked Xander in the shin and bolted when he let go to grab his leg. Wincing, Xander didn’t try to stop him. If Andrew wanted to aid and abet a demonic eel, there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Unfortunately, it looked like Andrew’s psychic link might get him killed.
“What’s he doing?” Jonathan asked.
Andrew charged Pragoh and tried to scoop up the handle end of the whip.
The little gray demon was still holding the cracker end. Immune to the shocks, Pragoh ripped the large, charged eel off the cracker and tore it in two.
Abruptly freed from the eel’s mental grip, Andrew came to his senses surrounded by swarms of hideous Hellmouth vermin. He ran back past Jonathan and Xander and kept running.
Jonathan waited until Andrew was out of sight around the corner. “So are all these whatever-they-are leaving with the short kid in the monster costume?”
“Yeah.” Xander nodded, hiding a smile. Jonathan rarely ran into someone older than twelve who was shorter than him.
“And there’s nothing left at the rummage sale except rummage?”
“Probably not,” Xander said. Judging by the creatures amassing around Pragoh, it certainly looked like all the Hellmouth beasts had answered his call.
“And it’s past noon, so the sale’s officially open, right?” Jonathan gave Xander a sidelong glance. “So I can officially put my money on the cash table to pay for some action figures.”
“And cheat Andrew out of them?” Xander nodded again. “Yeah, you could do that. He’ll get even someday, though.”
“I’m not going to keep them all to myself. I just want him to sweat it a little.” Jonathan paused outside the cafeteria door to make sure the way was clear, but he walked in with a definitive spring in his step. He didn’t get the upper hand very often.
Winded from the tussle, Xander leaned against the wall. When Harmony squealed again, he watched the restroom door. A cloud of pink and green mist trailing clusters of pink and green strings emerged. As the cloud drifted toward Pragoh, the strings dropped along the corridor floor, the residue of Harmony’s infection.
When Giles and Ms. Calendar approached, Xander was ready for company that didn’t freak in the face of horrifying evil. “What’s happening?”
Giles did not react as though he had been asked a foolish question. He answered, “Buffy will need to get down there and keep track of Pragoh and his beastly entourage until Ms. Calendar and I return with a spell to seal the Hellmouth.”
“You have one of those just lying around in case of a Hellmouth emergency?” Xander asked.
“After that dreadful business with the Master, I made a point of looking one up,” Giles said. “There’s a binding spell in the Hebron Almanac that should do the trick.”
“Have you seen Willow?” Ms. Calendar asked.
Xander shook his head. “Not since we came up from the basement. Why? She’s not in danger, is she?”
“We’re not sure, actually,” Giles said. “I’ve assumed the link to the kur will end once it’s back in the Hellmouth where it belongs.”
“Unless we can’t separate them,” Ms. Calendar added. “The beast’s influence is so strong, Willow might very well waltz right into the Hellmouth with it.”
Giles’s voice shook slightly, as it did whenever he was upset because Buffy had taken a particularly dangerous risk. “Where she will die quite painfully of something atrocious within moments.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Are you sure about that?” Willow stared into Cutie’s big brown eyes. The library was the safest place in the whole school, quiet and mostly deserted. Nobody used it except Giles and the Scoobies, and they were all off helping the demon. Still, Cutie was pushing her to leave.
The kur twitched his button nose and purred, snuggling against her chest.
“Okay, if that’s what you want.” Willow adjusted the scarf around the precious creature as she walked toward the doors. She heard Xander talking as he approached from the other side.
“We have to kill the kur,” Xander said. “It worked for Andrew and Jonathan. This electric eel thing—”
Willow was frozen in shocked outrage when the doors opened. Xander, Ms. Calendar, and Giles smiled when they saw her, acting like nothing was wrong. Like they hadn’t been plotting to murder the one thing in the universe that made her really happy.
“Uh—” Xander’s mouth moved but nothing came out.
“How could you?” Willow glowered at Xander. Cutie trembled in her arms, sensing the danger.
“Willow, I’m so glad you’re all right.” Ms. Calendar tried to embrace her.
“Don’t touch me.” Willow shrugged out of reach. “I trusted you! All of you! I thought you were my friends, but you’re not. You want to kill Cutie!”
“No, we don’t, Willow,” Giles said. “You didn’t hear every—”
“I heard him!” Eyes flashing, Willow pointed at Xander. She was so angry, her chest heaved and she had to speak through clenched teeth to stay in control. “He said ‘kill the kur.’”
“Kur? You thought I said ‘kill the kur’? No, I said ‘her.’ Kill her. The, uh, Cordelia!” Xander smashed his fist into his hand. “She makes me so mad sometimes, I just want to . . . kill her. But I wouldn’t.”
“And you expect me to believe that?” Willow didn’t hide her disdain.
“Well, yeah.” Xander shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled his lopsided smile. “You know me. Speak first, think too late, and then regret.”
Xander fumbled for words that could make it right, but nothing could fix it this tim
e. She didn’t need friends who wanted her pet to die. She didn’t need friends who betrayed her. She didn’t need anyone now that she had Cutie.
Willow calmed down when she realized that it didn’t matter what Xander thought should happen to the kur. He’d have to kill her first to get to Cutie, and he wouldn’t do that, not in a million years.
“Were you going somewhere, Willow?” Giles asked.
“Cutie wants to take a walk, so we’re leaving.” Nudged by the kur’s intense desire to move, Willow marched out the door. She heard her ex-friends talking behind her back again.
“Is she—” Xander stuttered. “Should I—”
“Just tell Buffy.” Giles coughed. “And that Ms. Calendar and I will be there shortly with the spell and accoutrement.”
“Huh?” Xander sounded puzzled.
“Spell stuff,” Ms. Calendar explained. “Candles, incense, charcoal—”
Willow smiled as she ambled down the corridor. Cutie was serene and all was well. She wasn’t even upset when Xander caught up with her, still pretending that everything was fine between them. The kur wanted her to take him home.
Buffy stood against the wall on the perimeter of the Hellmouth varmint herd. Unwilling to leave her mother’s side until the green sores began clearing up, she had fallen out of the disaster loop. With the exception of Pragoh, she didn’t know where everyone was or what they were doing. She had to trust that Giles would find a way to fill in the gaps. The demon didn’t know anything.
“Where’s the fire dragon?” Buffy asked, worried.
It bothered her that she cared about the lizard’s welfare. She didn’t feel an overwhelming desire to protect it like Willow did the kur, nor was she compelled to commit violent acts as Jonathan had been with the eel. She just liked the little guy. It was adorable in an orange-and-black, has-a-coffee-habit, and can-turn-people-into-human-torches kind of way. She also wanted to make sure it went home to the Hellmouth before Giles sealed the leaks.
“Dragon never hurry.” Pragoh threw up his hands.
“He’s dawdling?” Buffy asked, amused. She had a pretty good idea why the lizard wasn’t in a rush to leave. “Maybe I can get it.”
“Should have stomped it. Easier.” Pragoh continued to complain as he waddled down the hall toward the basement access door. “Everybody else ready to go!”
Following the demonic pied piper’s lead, the huge assortment of Hellmouth critters started to move. The purple armadillo-porcupine animal trundled by, flanked by a winged caterpillar and the puddle of gray slime. The faint outlines of the letters Z, O, R, B, and A from the Razorbacks baseball cap were visible in the slime.
Buffy moved in the opposite direction, staying close to the wall until she was past the migration. Then she ran for the teacher’s lounge. The pot sitting on the coffeemaker burner was empty, but several teachers hadn’t taken the time to clean their mugs when the emergency had been declared.
After collecting a full mug of cold coffee to use as bait, Buffy walked back to the cafeteria so she wouldn’t spill it. She felt terrible about the eight people who had died. She would never know how many students and residents of Sunnydale were still alive because of her efforts, but she bore the burden of every death by demonic evil that occurred in the town. Still, the casualties could have been a lot worse today, and she couldn’t help but feel a little jubilant. The evil zoo was en route back to the Hellmouth, her mother would recover with no permanent scars, and Xander had survived.
When she stepped through the cafeteria doors, Buffy realized her premature happy thoughts might have jinxed the mostly happy ending. Not everyone was out of danger yet. Jonathan had several action figure blister packs tucked under his arm, and he was poking through the gallery donations—less than twelve inches from the fire dragon.
The lizard had four feet perched on the rim of Ms. Calendar’s mug. Its head, long neck, and upper body were inside the mug so it could get that ever-so-good last drop.
Jonathan and the lizard both seemed oblivious to or unconcerned about the other’s presence. She had to get the lizard’s attention without startling Jonathan. Since he was in the cafeteria helping himself to collectible goodies, his nerves were probably hair trigger. If he jumped, ran, or shrieked in surprise, he might inadvertently scare the creature into a false-alarm smoking.
She was fairly certain that Jonathan never rocked the boat, avoided trouble at all costs, and unquestioningly obeyed authority. Trusting her instincts, Buffy issued an order. “Don’t move, Jonathan. Your life depends on it.”
Jonathan didn’t move.
“Now, back away from the table—slowly,” Buffy instructed. Holding her breath, she shifted her gaze between Jonathan and the fire dragon. The lizard had all six feet clamped on the rim of the cup, and it was watching Jonathan. “Turn around, Jonathan. Slowly. No sudden moves.”
Jonathan turned his back to Buffy and the animal. “I was going to pay for—”
“Quiet.” Buffy held out the cup when the dragon snapped its head around to stare at her. She didn’t care if it was her voice or the coffee that snared its rapt attention. Jonathan was forgotten as it leaped off the table and scampered toward her.
Buffy didn’t have time to give Jonathan an all-clear. Coffee sloshed and spilled as she hurried to the door. She smiled when the lizard stopped to lick the drops off the floor with its black tongue. It would follow a spilled coffee trail all the way to the basement.
“Still a little shaky, huh?” Xander stopped to watch as Buffy flipped the stopper to prop the door open.
“Just baiting a Hellmouth delinquent,” Buffy said, pouring more coffee on the floor. She noticed that Willow was still carrying the kur bundled in the blue scarf. “And looks like it’s not the only one.”
Xander shifted his weight, suddenly nervous. “Willow and I were just taking Cutie for a walk.”
Willow laughed. “When he wants to go somewhere, I just don’t have the heart to say no.”
Or the mind, Buffy thought as Willow murmured sweetly to the vile little beast.
“I think it’s safe to say that Willow would follow Cutie anywhere,” Xander said, holding Buffy with a fervent stare.
It wasn’t hard to interpret Xander’s words, emphasis, and look, and the message made Buffy’s stomach hurt. Giles had been quite clear that Cutie’s mental hold on Willow wouldn’t end until it was back in the Hellmouth. Apparently, Giles also thought Willow might hand deliver the kur.
Buffy’s first solution was to snatch the creature out of Willow’s arms and kill it, but she realized that taking such drastic action would backfire. The psychic connection would be severed, but Willow’s affection for the creature could be genuine. Her mom wouldn’t let her have a pet she could cuddle, and Willow might never forgive her best friend for wringing Cutie’s neck.
“Can we please get moving?” Willow asked.
Bad, bad idea, Buffy thought. They had to keep Willow as far away from the basement as possible for as long as possible to minimize the chances of losing her. Unlike the fire dragon, the kur obviously couldn’t resist Pragoh’s call. And Willow couldn’t resist the kur’s psychic imperative to return to the Hellmouth.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Giles?” Buffy didn’t honestly believe reason would work with Willow, but posing the question bought a few more seconds. She caught Xander’s eye and nodded vigorously, hoping he’d catch a clue.
Xander was quick on the uptake. “We should wait. Absolutely. Giles and Ms. Calendar might need help carrying . . . stuff.”
Willow was only half listening. The kur was the center of her shrinking world. “You guys can wait. We’re leaving.”
Buffy cast another frantic glance at Xander. He shook his head, at a loss. If they tried to physically restrain Willow, the kur would have a fit. Willow would react violently, pulling out all the stops to do the beast’s bidding. She could get hurt, but that was a chance Buffy had to take.
Better than taking a long walk into hell, Buffy thought,
bracing to stop Willow.
Instead of moving forward, Willow gasped and stumbled back from the door.
Puzzled, Buffy glanced into the cafeteria just as Jonathan risked looking over his shoulder. When he spotted her watching him, he jerked his head back around and resumed his motionless stance.
The fire dragon scurried out the door to the second coffee spill.
“Oh, look who’s here.” Xander prudently eased back. “Hellfire on six little legs.”
“Get it away, Buffy!” Willow pleaded.
Xander cocked an eyebrow. “Apparently, Cutie isn’t wild about going out in a blaze of glory either.”
“Not funny, Xander,” Willow said. “That thing makes combustible fevers inside other things. One minute you’re napping by a lava flow in a cave, and the next you’re a campfire.”
The fire dragon’s incendiary nature gave Buffy new angles to consider. If the lizard turned the kur into a fireball, Willow wouldn’t blame her—except that the dragon couldn’t smoke Cutie without smoking Willow, too. But Buffy could use the kur’s fear to delay Willow’s arrival in the basement.
“Okay, Will.” Buffy held up a hand and explained, for Xander’s benefit more than Willow’s. “I can keep the dragon calm if we move slowly. Just stay back and you’ll be fine.”
“Right,” Xander said. “If you went first, it could sneak up on you and wham! You’re charbroiled before you know what hit you.”
“Okay,” Willow whispered.
Buffy moved a few feet closer to the basement access door and spilled more coffee. When the lizard finished the second spill, it moved on to the third. Willow and Xander stayed six feet back.
“Where’s my shirt?” Principal Snyder bellowed through the open classroom infirmary door. “And why am I wearing all these ugly ties? Is this somebody’s idea of a joke? I’m not laughing.”
“Nobody’s laughing,” Buffy’s mom said sharply. “Now sit down and calm down, or those big holes in your head won’t heal properly.”
“Where’s my hat?” Snyder asked. “Somebody took my hat.”