by Various
“Thou hast called Sesostris from Side. Where is my body?” The ghostly being’s image may have been in half-light, but his voice was deep and immediate. “You are no priest, mortal. Why have I been returned to this place and time? What has become of my mortal shell?”
Josh sat in stunned silence.
“Speak!” demanded the priest.
“I . . . I’m not sure,” came Josh’s tiny voice. Was that me? Josh wondered. Swallowing, he stood and tried to regain some control.
“Great Sesostris, Priest of Anubis of old, I have summoned you this night. I do not know of the body you seek, but I have called you forth to do my bidding.” And Josh waited, trembling.
The granite face of Sesostris didn’t move, but an expression of outrage suffused his eyes. “Fool! Meddler!” finally burst out of his mouth, too loud in the little dorm room. “You are no magician. What point is there in my being here now? The great God Anubis granted me the power of life over death, then the cowardly priests of Aten separated my soul from my body and placed the shell in a hidden space so that I could no longer drink the blood of men, but must wander eternity as a spirit lost between worlds.”
Josh’s trembling increased as he realized he had little control of this entity.
“Look at you, bloodling! You are not even a fit sacrifice for me, let alone my master. Where is your ritual circle, oh powerful one? Where are the sigils and protections that would give you domination over the spirit realm? Do I do bidding just for the asking?” Sesostris thought for a moment, then said, “But you could not have brought me here without powerful help, and my body must lie nearby for you to have succeeded. What is this place?”
Josh blinked. “S—S—Sunnydale,” he ventured. Of course that wouldn’t do. Josh quickly grabbed some of his homework books lying nearby where he had tossed them earlier. He found a map with a flattened view of the world. Pointing a shaking hand to the Giza plateau he said, “This is Egypt.” Then, sliding his finger over the double page, he stopped over northern California. “This is where we are now,” he said, and waited.
“The world has changed shape many times since I walked as a mortal man,” came the least threatening thing the priest had yet voiced, “but even in my time we knew the entrances to the underworld. Geb placed the doors to his domain carefully, but Anubis entered them all, and at his will. As priests, we too knew the mouths of the Earth. This place you call Sunnydale is near a door to the netherworld. That explains how you might have power to draw me here, and there may I gain strength and form to move on this plane and interact with will here. Take me there. Now!”
“But I don’t know where this door is,” Josh said, thinking wildly.
“Look to your past,” said Sesostris. “There will be ancient and modern disaster associated with this place. All manner of chaos is drawn to its power. Think.”
And suddenly Josh had it.
“The old high school!” he blurted. “If there was a weirder place in Sunnydale, I can’t think of it. The ruins are only a few miles from here.”
“We go now, whelp. I am helpless in this form. Bring me to this place and restore my power, and I will do what I can to repay you. Our priestly judgements were harsh, but we were priests of honor.”
* * *
“No way. Nuh, uh. I know all I want to about mummies. You said, ‘A nice cultural trip to the museum.’ You didn’t say anything about mummies. Not going.” Xander protested defiantly while walking through the door to the museum. “They date you, then they suck you, then you’re Folger’s instant coffee.”
“Come on, Xander. It’s educational, and you promised,” coaxed Willow. “We all agreed that we haven’t been seeing enough of each other lately. Buffy’s off patrolling every night and you work all the time. Even Anya doesn’t get to see you much. I thought this would be a good, non-Scooby, non-end-of-the-world gathering.”
“Besides, this mummy is a daddy,” offered Buffy.
“I don’t care what gender he-she-it-them is. Let me just say I’m not ending up as astronaut food!”
By this time the troop had made it to the main hall of the Sunnydale museum. Surrounded by marble and huge dinosaur bones, they were naturally awed into whispers. Besides, the guard was eyeing them suspiciously.
“But I’ll never be able to finish my report without this field trip credit,” said Willow. “I promise, we’ll be quick. In, out. Like that,” she snapped her fingers.
“Hi, everyone,” said Tara, approaching from the museum cafeteria to the left. She handed Willow an ice blended mocha. “I, uh . . . did anyone want anything?” she asked, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to just get one for us.” she added lamely.
“Hey, no,” said Buffy. “Caffeine a nervous slayer makes.”
“That’s okay,” added Xander. “I’m already all a twitch over this mummy thing.”
“Oh that’s right. You had a supernatural mummy experience once, didn’t you?” Tara’s stutter faded as the spotlight was off her for the moment.
They moved farther into the lobby and sat at the visitor bench while the girls finished their drinks. The guard by the entrance to the traveling Ancient Egyptian exhibit looked dubiously in their direction. He clearly had visions of sloppy coffee fingerprints on exhibit glass.
“Ampata,” intoned Xander blankly.
“It was a little rough for an infatuation,” said Buffy. “She almost killed Xander before we managed to stop her.”
“As soon as she kissed me I felt the life just leave me. It felt like I was dehydrating,” Xander mused, lost in thought.
“Oh, did you guys hear about Bruce Carter? The jock guy you flipped yesterday?” asked Tara.
“I told Tara about how you helped Josh Headly with that stupid jock . . . again,” said Willow.
“That’s what makes having superhero powers worthwhile. Just so I can come to the rescue of the underdog. What freshman girl doesn’t dream of whooping some jock ass now and again? Anyway, Tara, you were saying?” Buffy asked as she realized they had just run right past Tara’s news.
“Well, he’s dead.” Tara offered meekly. “His mom found him in his room this morning. They think it might have been one of those freak sports accidents. You know how it’s always the young guy who is in top shape that dies of the unexpected clot or something. The only thing is they said he was all dehydrated like Xander was just saying. That’s why I thought of it.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, now girl. This isn’t the right campfire for dark and nasty-scare-Xander-to-death tales,” said Xander, standing. “I’m led here to the Egyptian den by my bestest friends, on the excuse of a friendly get together, and just before I’m dragged into the maw of death I hear something like this? No, I’m scootin’, Scoobies.”
“Xander, I’m sure Bruce died from very natural causes. Even if they were unnatural, I’m sure they were perfectly natural unmummy unnatural causes. Did anybody understand that?” asked Willow.
“I really hate to be the dropout again, but this has got me wigged. I’ll see you all at the Bronze—later.” With that, Xander stood up and peeled out of the museum.
“I guess we’d better get the viewing of ancient art and old bodies over with,” said Buffy decisively. They gathered their things to go in, Willow carefully disposing of the drink containers in the trash. “You know, my ‘Spidey sense’ is tingling. Maybe when we’re done here we should go tell Giles about Bruce’s death?”
* * *
The Expresso Pump was one of Sunnydale’s more modern conveniences. Even small towns in California could not escape the pervasive pleasures of the coffee craze. By the time Xander met Anya there, the afternoon was getting on, but the trade was bustling. Despite how close Xander and Anya were sitting, the waitress gave Xander a special smile as she delivered their drinks.
“She smiled at you,” Anya said flatly.
“Ahn, people smile at each other. It’s part of being polite.”
“That was no ‘your money is good here, thanks for the custom�
� smile. That was an ‘I like your eyes’ smile,” she contested.
“Ahn, I didn’t ask you to meet me so we could talk about the waitress.”
“I’m glad you did call. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself while you had your secret meeting,” Anya said. “I think your friends might have included me. Where are your special friends, anyway?”
“Anya, there wasn’t any secret meeting! Willow was just trying to make sure we didn’t drift apart. I’m sure you were welcome to come to the museum too,” he mollified. “I feel bad now that I bailed on them.”
“I thought you were looking forward to your secret meeting. What happened?”
“Anya! It wasn’t a secret meeting.”
“Whatever you say.”
Ignoring her jealousy of his friends, Xander said, “It turned out the trip to the museum was to see a mummy. I chickened out.”
“That’s right. Your last girlfriend was an ex-demon too.”
“She was not a girlfriend! And she wasn’t ‘ex’ when I met her; she was very much the demon-demon. Thanks to Buffy, she’s an ex-everything. She really freaked me out.”
“Well, I know that mixed relationships can be difficult. The last human boyfriend I had is an ogre now.”
“Not making me feel better, Ahn. In fact, queasy now.”
Josh came running up to the couple.
“Xander, I’m glad I found someone. Do you know where Buffy is? Or Willow? I’ve got to find them!” He wheezed, out of breath.
“Whoa, Josh. Cool down. What’s the matter?” Xander asked.
“Would you care for a caffeinated beverage?” asked Anya, being helpful.
“No, I haven’t got time to explain. I think I’ve done something really bad. Willow and Buffy might be the only ones who know what to do.” Josh was less breathless, but seemed to be getting more agitated. He hadn’t sat down and was shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“Well, I left them all at the museum, but I’m sure they’ve finished there by now,” said Xander. “We were all going to meet at the Bronze in a little while, so they probably went to Giles’s place to check in.” Xander rattled off the address. “Look, we’ll come with you.”
“Xander Harris. You cannot invite me out for coffee then just run off any time someone mentions your Buffy. You’re with me now and we will meet your little friends at the Bronze tonight.” This was the most assertive Anya had been in quite a while, and Xander began to realize just how deep their relationship was becoming. He had already been beating himself up over bailing on one group of friends; he couldn’t bail on Anya, too. Besides, Josh wasn’t waiting for the lovebirds to sort it out. He had already begun to take off in the direction of Giles’s apartment.
“Okay, Ahn. I hear you. Buffy can handle it. I bet Josh is just freaked out about Bruce Carter dying so weirdly, especially after that fight Buffy broke up yesterday. Probably blaming himself.”
“That’s my sweetie,” said Anya, brightening up. “Understanding and funny, and so cute! Here’s the bill.”
* * *
“Yes, well, I think it is precipitous to act on this just now. Mr. Carter’s death may have been perfectly normal for all we know,” said Giles as he cleared the cluttered desk in his cozy living room. Giles’s apartment had become the Scoobie Gang’s meeting place since the high school was demolished by the Mayor-snake. “Buffy, why don’t you take an extra patrol around the campus and neighboring streets tonight, and Willow, you see if there is anything of interest on the computer.”
The little group of girls had met in Giles’s home as soon as they had finished with the museum. While Willow had been making her class notes and looking at ancient artifacts, Buffy had been feeling little tingles at the back of her ponytail. That’s all it was sometimes: just a little discomfort or itchy spot that kept returning her to the idea of something not natural at work in Sunnydale. That was a part of her training—to listen and feel for these little signs. Giles said that was what would keep her alive. And so far he had been right.
The gathering was disturbed by a knock at the front door. Giles wiped some dust from his hands and answered the knock. Revealed on the sunny porch was Josh.
“Hello, young man. Can I be of assistance?” asked Giles.
“Josh! What are you doing here? How did you find us?” asked Willow coming forward.
“I saw Xander and Anya at the Expresso Pump. They gave me the address,” Josh answered.
“Right, I remember now. Josh Headly. You were around for some of that difficulty with that odious little Principal Snyder. Weren’t you suspended for some magick paraphernalia he found in your locker?” Giles asked.
“That’s right.”
“Well, you look a little upset. Why don’t you come in and I’ll make some tea. That always settles me a bit.” Giles moved to the Spanish style apartment’s tiny tiled kitchen. Buffy closed the front door and showed Josh to the couch. Willow sat down next to him with Tara and Buffy perching opposite.
“What’s the sitch?” asked Buffy, all business. She knew that little tingle of hers had just come calling.
“I really didn’t mean for it to get out of hand. Willow, you’ll understand,” he started, searching Willow’s face for signs of their old friendship.
“Uh-oh. What did you do?” Willow asked. Her guard went up as she remembered their last spell attempt. Willow watched carefully as Josh began to squirm a bit under the girls’ combined stare.
“I just wanted to have some protection. You know, so I could look after myself without Buffy.” This came out almost as a whine. Josh plunged into the story, recalling his encounter with Bruce. “So I began to think about some of the stuff we used to try. I thought if I used magick to protect myself I would be more independent. Less trouble for everyone.”
Josh then described the spell and its shocking results.
“What was the spirit’s name?” jumped in Giles as he placed the steaming tea down in front of Josh.
“He called himself Sesostris, and said he was a priest of Anubis,” Josh explained. “Anyway, he made me take him to the old high school. Something about a door to the underworld, but I was so scared I don’t remember all the details. Sesostris went away somewhere, I think down a tunnel near where the old library used to be.” The group exchanged significant looks. “But when he came back it was like he had been colorized! Like an old black-and-white movie gone all TNN. He was Technicolored. But he was even scarier. I could sort of see his eyes glowing in the dark, and he seemed more solid somehow.”
“The Hellmouth revivified him.” Giles pondered. “If that’s the case then we can now expect this spirit to be able to affect things on our plane of existence.”
“But that’s what happened!” Josh was getting visibly more upset now. “I wanted protection, but I didn’t want him to kill Bruce!”
Buffy leaned in closer. “What happened?”
“Sesostris told me that I had been a good servant; he called me his jackal. Then he said he was created to judge the souls of man. He would drain all the life from those he found wanting. He must have read my mind then and gone right to Bruce. I don’t know what happened after that, because he just left me there at the ruins. I heard about Bruce at school today and I know it was Sesostris!”
“Josh, what you have done was decidedly unwise,” Giles admonished softly. “There is a coven of witches in England—very grounded, Earth worshipers. They taught me at an early age, not that I listened naturally, the basic rule of the universe: ‘Ever mind the rule of three. All you do comes back to thee.’ We shall yet see what you have released on us, Josh, and what the repercussions will be.” Giles stood and, wiping his glasses preparatory to reading, he approached the locked glass cabinet. “If my suspicion is correct we have a difficult situation on our hands—but not impossible.”
Giles leafed through a book, replaced it, and tried another. There was a little silence in the room behind him and glances were exchanged between Willow, Josh, and Tara. Buffy d
idn’t miss this, but though it best to keep her suspicions about a burgeoning magick circle to herself.
“Ah,” Giles called from his desk, “here we have it. Yes indeed, this Sesostris is mentioned.” Giles addressed the group as if giving a lecture. “There is much speculation amongst early watchers about the origins of vampirism, and a great deal of clues seem to point to Ancient Egypt. Sesostris was a very powerful priest of the Anubis cult, much feared in the ancient world. They seem to have been connected with an older Osirian cult with overtones of death and resurrection. According to an ancient Greek scroll, probably translated from an earlier Egyptian papyrus, particularly conferred on Sesostris was a benediction of ankh er neheh, or ‘living forever.’ If this were vampirism, as some suspect, rather than simply a ‘benediction,’ we could be dealing with a very ancient and powerful vampire. It would seem, though, that we are fairly safe and he should be easily disposed of despite the Hellmouth’s power. You see”—Giles lifted his folded glasses to his lips while he shifted his thoughts into his own past research—“the ancient Egyptian’s entire religion was based on a sort of‘cult of the dead.’ In preparation for a return to the physical body after death, the body was preserved by mummification. Of course with mortals there was no return of the soul to the flesh, but the texts point to vampirism in the case of Sesostris because they go on to state that Sesostris was so feared for his judgements and the subsequent deaths of many, that the priests of Aten, the sun God, disposed of him. More pointedly this Sesostris was too powerful to simply kill, so they vanquished his soul from his body, then mummified the body.”