Giles looked at him. “Oz?”
But Oz could only shake his head. “I’m not finding anything, Giles. So far, real live dinosaurs only happen in the movies.”
“Then something else has to be the cause of this,” Giles said firmly. “Or some one.” He looked at Willow. “Perhaps you could . . . ?”
“I’m on it,” she said, and Oz smiled as she settled comfortably in front of the computer and, after glancing around with a vaguely guilty expression, swiftly hacked into a few off-limits areas. “Uh . . . what is it exactly that I’m looking for?”
“Well, I’m not precisely sure,” Giles admitted. “Consider someone with a scientific background, perhaps in the medical arena. Chemistry—”
“So you’re discounting the Hellmouth connection?” Buffy asked. “Is that a good idea? I mean, just because we can’t make ’em doesn’t mean they can’t be created using other means.”
“But we went through everything already,” Giles pointed out. “The history books are seriously bereft of dinosaur demons.”
“What about paleontologists?” Oz raised an eyebrow. “Sunnydale’s got a good-size section of that at the museum.”
Giles stared at him, then looked flustered. “Well, that is rather obvious, isn’t it.”
“Duh,” Xander muttered.
“Kevin Sanderson,” Willow said out of nowhere.
Oz looked at Willow. “I know the guy. What’s his deal?”
“Beats me,” Willow said absently. She was totally focused on the information blinking on the screen. “He hasn’t even been enrolled at Sunnydale High for a full two weeks. Here—yeah, Oz and I are in Earth Sciences with him. Wow. This guy’s so deep into paleontology I wouldn’t be surprised if he had dirt in his pockets.”
Oz looked thoughtful. “I could tell he was high on the prehistoric, but making them from scratch?” He shook his head doubtfully. “Seems a little overboard.”
“Well, I’ve searched on every record field I can think of,” Willow told him and the others. “Besides Sanderson, I’m coming up with zip from the school.”
“So he’s the only lead we can dig up,” Xander said. He seemed to be waiting for someone to comment, and when no one did, Oz heard him mutter to himself. “My standup ability is totally wasted on the crowd here.”
“Let’s go talk to the guy,” Buffy said. “Time’s a’wastin’.”
“Isn’t that my line?” Xander demanded.
“Not something you can copyright,” Oz told him. He looked at Buffy. “I’m up for tagging along. Plus it might be better if he saw a familiar face.”
Buffy arched an eyebrow. “You mean as opposed to us total strangers marching up and demanding to know who the hell he thinks he is and why he brought something a bazillion years old back to life?”
“Buffy,” Giles said hastily, “we don’t know that he did any such thing. I’d hardly think it wise to accuse him before we have more information. As Oz pointed out, there are paleontology people at the museum—”
Xander rolled his eyes. “Earth to Giles? The museum’s always been here. Now we have brand-new guy who likes dinosaurs, and vee-ola, a brand new dinosaur. Does it have to hit you over the head with a leg bone?”
Giles sniffed. “Bit explicit, don’t you think?”
“When the info just falls on our heads, let’s take advantage of it,” Buffy said firmly. “Will can stay and keep hunting in the virtual. Who else besides Oz is going with me in the real?”
“I’m in.” Xander and the Timimus glared at each other a final time. “I’d definitely like to see who’s playing Jurassic creator here.”
“Actually,” Oz said, “he comes from the early Cretaceous.
Xander’s mouth dropped open. “This Kevin guy?”
“The Timimus.”
“Oh.” Xander looked righteously embarrassed. “Yeah, right.”
“Wait!” Willow stood suddenly, looking totally petrified. “You’re leaving me here?” Her eyes were wide as she glanced at the cage and the pacing creature within it. “With . . . with that?”
“Giles will be here,” Buffy pointed out.
“There’s safety in numbers,” Xander said reassuringly. “Everyone knows that.”
Willow’s glance at the dinosaur was dubious. “I don’t think he does.”
“We’ll be fine,” Giles put in. “It’s safely contained and all we need do is keep an eye on it during our research.” He slipped off his glasses and wiped at them with a handkerchief.
“Then we’re gone,” Buffy said. “We’ll let you know if we find out anything.” She strode toward the door and Xander and Oz followed. Oz glanced over his shoulder a final time and saw Willow settle timidly in front of the computer again as Giles began sorting through a pile of old volumes. Meanwhile the Timimus paced in its prison, back and forth, and watched them with glowing eyes.
What was it Giles had said? Oh yeah.
“We’ll be fine.”
Inside, where no one else could see, he grimaced.
It was like a miracle . . .
Daniel hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that to Kevin, and now he thought it applied to a whole lot more than the revitalization of the Timimus egg. The fact that Kevin was standing here now, had actually gone home and returned with the chunk of rock containing the trio of T. Rex eggs . . . well, it was another part of the miracle that just kept on coming. There were other parts, too: Kevin believing the Timimus had escaped when Daniel had actually obeyed its demand for freedom, sneaked it down to the maintenance exit, and released it outside. More than that, the teenager had accepted Daniel’s reasons for not taking his calls when the truth was that until Kevin had told him about the T. Rex eggs, Daniel really had no more use for him. In fact, he wouldn’t have involved him in the ritual at all had it not been clear that where the Timimus egg went, Kevin went with it. The kicker, of course, was Daniel’s inference that this would be the ultimate for both of them, some kind of huge advancement in the field of paleontology. For Kevin, could that be any more unlikely? The truth was once Daniel got these eggs to hatch viable baby dinosaurs, he would find a way to shake Kevin Sanderson off like the aggravating little ankle biter that he was.
“These are excellent, Kevin,” he said. He ran his fingers gently over the fossilized shells, noting that what he could see of them outside the rock nest was intact. Good. “You’re sure they’re T. Rex? Not that it would make me change my mind about trying the spell again. I’d just be a little . . . disappointed.”
“Absolutely positive,” Kevin said. He sounded funny and Daniel glanced at him; the fear he saw there would’ve convinced him about the egg types even if Kevin hadn’t said another word. “They came from a tyrannosaur site.” He hesitated. “Listen, how I got these—”
“Let’s just not go there,” Daniel said abruptly. “I think it’s better for both of us, don’t you?” Another illusion; he didn’t care where the eggs had come from, just that they were.
Kevin nodded, looking relieved. He glanced around the lab and spied the cages that Daniel had put together during his trek home and back again. “You’re sure those will do it?”
“Stainless steel components held together by doubledup steel clips. Obviously they won’t cut it when the babies get bigger, but we don’t have to worry about that right away. Let’s just focus on seeing if we can bring these fossils back to life.”
“And if it does work?” Kevin asked him in a low voice. “What do we do then?”
“Then, after we’re sure we have healthy hatchlings, we’ll bring in other experts, let the university, the government, whomever, take over the task of caging and controlling them. That way, everyone will be safe.” He looked at Kevin steadily. “And we’ll be set in the paleontology field forever. I’ll get a boost a lot higher in the hierarchy here, and when you go back to Chicago at the end of the school year, they’ll treat you like such royalty you’ll practically be able to wear a crown.”
Kevin didn’t say anything, bu
t there was something in his face. . . . Doubt? Suspicion? Daniel could hardly blame him; he knew he’d made a serious error in not keeping in contact with the kid after the Timimus resurrection. But how could he have known that he would need the boy again?
“Are we ready?” he asked.
Kevin nodded a final time, but his expression was anything but confident, and Daniel could see that the kid’s hands were shaking. Too bad; Daniel didn’t have time to play patty-cake with his baby assistant’s frazzled nerves. He had things to do, dinosaurs to awaken, a contract to fulfill with someone—something—a helluva lot bigger and more important than Kevin Sanderson would ever, in his life, hope to be. Kevin might be scared but Daniel had it from good authority that he himself was going places. All he had to do was substitute the words “these last” in the appropriate place.
“Just do what I tell you, when I tell you,” Daniel told Kevin. “And you’ll be fine. We’ll both be fine.” The dark-haired paleontologist caressed the cover of Professor Nuriel’s leather journal for a moment, then carefully opened it to the bookmark he’d placed on the crumbling page on which the old professor had written the ritual.
Hear this call, spirits of Ladonithia
Awaken and return from your abyss to this frozen host
These last of four, to then combine . . .
Chapter 8
KEVIN SANDERSON’S HOUSE LOOKED A LOT LIKE Buffy’s own on Revello Drive. This area of Sunnydale was slightly more affluent, the homes a little on the larger side, but the effect was the same: all-American tidy and flowered up. The split-level in front of them was a yellow brick with a brown shingle roof, and was bordered by low, neatly trimmed bushes. A couple of hanging baskets flanked the posts to either side of a nice, veranda-style front porch, but this early in the year they were bare. Buffy could imagine them holding bright red geraniums along about June. “So what’s our cover?” Xander asked eagerly as he followed her and Oz up the small riser of steps.
Oz smiled slightly but didn’t answer, so Buffy took the initiative. “Our cover is that Oz goes to class with him and wants to copy his notes from yesterday’s dose of Regis because he lost his.”
“I did?” Oz considered this. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
“That’s it?” Xander looked disappointed. “No stealth or—”
“You’re not Pierce Brosnan,” Buffy reminded him.
“But he has the coolest toys!”
“And we don’t.” Oz reached past Buffy and rang the doorbell, and Buffy saw him eyeing the wreath of dried flowers on the front door. She didn’t like them either— too much like dead funeral flowers.
“You’re right,” Xander agreed. “We are toy deprived.” He peered around the front porch. “Don’t mind me. I’m just looking for signs of Kevy’s latest pet.”
Buffy shuddered. “It’s locked up, remember? Thank God.”
There was a noise in front of them, then the door was pulled open by an older woman with neat white hair and a pleasant face. “Hi,” Buffy said, giving her best bright-as-a-button smile. “Mrs. Sanderson? We’re, uh, friends of Kevin’s from school. Is he home?”
Mrs. Sanderson suddenly looked pleased way beyond proportion. “Oh, my—you’re Kevin’s friends? Why that’s wonderful! Come in, please.”
They looked at one another nervously, then the trio filed dutifully past the older woman as she waved them inside. Buffy swallowed. “We—”
“May I get you some lemonade?” Mrs. Sanderson asked. “How about some cookies?”
“Cookies?” Xander’s attention was caught.
Buffy elbowed him. “Thank you, but we really can’t stay very long,” she said sweetly. “I’m Buffy, this is Oz, and that’s Xander.”
“Just call me the Cookie Monster,” Xander said under his breath, earning himself another sharp elbow in the ribs.
“I was wondering if he had some notes I missed in earth sciences class yesterday,” Oz put in. “The ones ab out . . . dinosaurs.”
“Oh, Kevin’s not here right now,” Mrs. Sanderson said. “But he could sure tell you about dinosaurs, all right. That’s pretty much all he lives and breathes.”
“That’s what we thought,” Buffy said. “Do you know when he’ll be back? Or where he went?”
Mrs. Sanderson shook her head. “Not really. He told me he was going to spend the day with a friend named Daniel but didn’t say where,” she said apologetically. She looked slightly embarrassed. “We just moved here, of course, and to be honest, I was just so thankful that he’d found someone who shared his interests that I let it slide when he didn’t mention where they would be except to say he’d probably eat dinner with him. But I’m sure he’ll be home by nine tonight. I could have him call you.” She smiled brightly again, completely oblivious to their discontent. “His father and I were afraid it would be so difficult on him, moving during the last year of school like this. But here he already has friends coming to the house. I guess it’s going to work out after all.”
Buffy nodded, trying to look as convinced as Mrs. Sanderson was trying to be. There was a sense of desperation around the edges of Kevin’s mother’s words that was creeping Buffy out, giving her a bad, bad feeling about all this. New in Sunnydale, Kevin was way too much like easy prey for an entire repertoire of evildeeders. To those in the know like her and the Slayerettes, the signs were already a’rumbling: Kevin had arrived involved neck-deep in paleontology, and now a live dinosaur had somehow poofed its way into existence. That his mother didn’t even know where he was just made it that much worse. Bad, bad vibes.
“Daniel,” Oz said, suddenly straightening. “That would be Daniel Addison, the guy from the Museum of Natural History?”
Mrs. Sanderson frowned, but at the same time managed to look even happier than she had a few moments ago. “Well, I don’t know. I assumed it was someone from school, but if he’s with the museum . . . that would be good, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah,” Xander said. “Right on the money.”
The older woman hugged herself momentarily. “Kevin had a solid footing in Chicago,” she said. “We pulled him out of it, you know, and came here because of his father’s failing health. My son had so much built up back there, but he doesn’t have anyone to help him here, to guide him. If this Daniel person can do that, it would be a blessing.”
No one said anything for a beat, and Buffy had to struggle not to wince. A leader? For a newbie in Sunnydale that could mean a whole bunch of possibilities, and most of them sure weren’t the kinds of things a nice woman like this would wish on her only child. “Thanks for your time,” she finally said, and motioned Oz and Xander to follow her to the door. “We’ll catch up with him later.”
“All right,” Kevin’s mother said, then looked at Oz. “Oh, pardon me, what was your name again?”
“Oz,” he said from beside Buffy. “From earth sciences class.”
“Oz,” Mrs. Sanderson repeated. “I can remember that.”
He smiled as they filed out. “Most people can.”
“Remember Daniel Addison?” Oz asked Willow as they rejoined their friends at the library. “He gave that talk in earth sciences class last week. From what Kevin’s mother said, I’m thinking he’s the guy we’re looking for.”
“Daniel Addison.” Willow was already typing. “He’s not currently a student,” she said, without lifting her gaze from the screen.
“No.” Oz perched on the table next to her as Buffy and Xander crowded around. “But Regis brought him in a couple of days ago—”
“Yeah, that’s right!” Willow said, straightening. “I remember him now. He was the one with the creepy slides . . . the creepy dinosaur slides! But what does he have to do with Kevin Sanderson?”
Buffy leaned in. “Kevin’s mom told us that’s who he’s hanging with today—as in all day.”
Willow frowned. “Well, Addison comes from the Museum of Natural History, right?”
“Yeah,” said Xander. “Another Paleo guy. I just don’t get
the attraction of rock-encrusted reptiles. Then again, this town attracts a lot of dead things, so why not those.”
Buffy grimaced. “We can usually find a reason behind what crawls out of the ground around here. In this case, so far we’ve got nada.”
“Here,” Willow said suddenly. “I backtracked on Regis’s requisition requests and came up with the info. Daniel Addison is doing postgraduate work at the museum in the Department of Paleontology. This is his second year there.”
“Big surprise—not,” Buffy said as Giles came out of his office and moved to the library counter. “Tell us something we don’t already know.”
“All right, I will.” Willow typed furiously for about twenty seconds, then began to read from the screen. “‘Daniel Addison is directionless and unwilling to work to succeed. He does not often think for himself. For this reason, a third-year internship will not be offered. We suggest he return to the university and concentrate on his studies, and we will reconsider him at a future time.’ ”
“Willow!” Giles exclaimed from where he was leafing through a book. “That sounds like a comment an employer might make—are you into the museum’s confidential records?”
“Of course not,” Xander said smartly. “She’s hacked into Kindergarten Quarterly.”
Giles frowned at him. “Always a comment, eh?”
“Someday I’ll have my own talk show.”
“I’m sure it will be fascinating,” Giles said, and looked back at Willow questioningly.
She shrugged. “I knock on a door—it opens. Unlike some of Sunnydale’s residents, I don’t need an invite to step in and look around.”
Giles’s frown deepened above his glasses. “At this point, I suppose it’s useless to request information from my acquaintances at the museum?”
“Not necessary,” Willow said blandly.
“What else does it say?” Oz asked. Directionless? That didn’t sound good, especially since Daniel Addison had wormed his way into leading Kevin Sanderson around by the proverbial nose.
Willow squinted at the screen. “Let’s see. Pretty much more of the same, except . . .”
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