Forever Young: Forever Young
by Jared Baierschmidt
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is owned by lots of people who are not me. Therefore, I swear to those individuals that this is a non-profit Fanfic story (no, my fingers are not crossed!). Any characters not from the television show are my own creation and may only be used in other non-profit Fanfic materials.
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The old man smiled as he shambled up the creaking stairs of the bell tower, his gaunt face collapsing into infinite wrinkles. Rats leapt from his path with hisses of anger at having their rest disturbed, but he paid them no mind.
Onward and upward he continued around the spiral stairs, his black robes sending clouds of dust whirling behind him. At the top of the staircase he paused and glanced out a gaping window to his left into the night. A flash of lightening illuminated the jutting remains of the broken church far below.
He turned his attention back to the sturdy bronze door that blocked his path. Inscribed with Latin around the edges, the main body of the door was a gigantic engraved skull.
With a deft flick of his wrist, the man produced a silver key from a hidden pocket. Thunder shook the bell tower as his trembling wart covered hand placed the key into a barely discernable hole in the skulls eye socket. "Es suthar numeica, cha brunen ke Asaluth! I command you to open!" he chanted, his voice booming out down the shaft of the tower.
Lightening filled the landing with a brilliant white glare as thunder hammered the tower walls. The door began to glow deep red, pulsating like a beating heart.
"I command you open!" the man yelled again. Lightning crackled through the window, striking the door. The old man howled as sparks danced across his arm. The fury of the thunder knocked him to the rotting wooden landing.
Slowly, he picked himself up off the floor, wringing his scorched fingers with his good hand. The door pulsed quickly with red light, bright enough to drive the shadows from the tower.
"Playing games are we?" the man sneered as he looked over his nose at the door.
"Ase Umana eth Kiona dara Somos!" he began to chant as his fingers danced in the air. The air around his right hand thickened into a pale fog. Stepping forward, he grinned in perfect imitation of the skull and placed his hand on the shimmering red door.
The door exploded inwards, shattering into hundreds of shards. Hot air whipped the man's robes around him. He stepped into the room carefully and watched as the debris from the door slowly lost its red aura. The room itself appeared to be empty except for one lone fluted pedestal. A thick book lay open upon the pedestal, undamaged by the shrapnel and glowing dimly with a magical inner light.
"At last they are mine! After all these years... all mine!" the wizard cackled gleefully. He threw his arms up in the air. "I will be young again!" he shouted into the storm that split the air with thunder and lightening.
* * *
"All right kids, that's it for today," Coach Berringer yelled with a final blast of her whistle. Buffy watched as the coach rubbed her temples and closed her eyes.
"Coach Berringer hasn't been looking too good today. And now she's letting us out of class early? I wonder what's up," she mentioned to Willow as they filed towards the locker room with the rest of the class.
"Helloooo? She's old," Cordiellia spun around and broke in before Willow could reply.
"She's only in her mid-forties," Willow countered.
Cordiellia's eyes narrowed as she tilted her head slightly. "Like I said, she's old. God I hope I never get wrinkled like that." Spinning on her heel away from them, Cordiellia strutted off to her locker.
"Living at the Hellmouth, getting old is not a luxury many people have," Willow said softly as she watched Cordiellia leave. When Buffy didn't reply, Willow glanced over at her.
"What's the matter?" Willow asked, following Buffy's intense gaze. Coach Berringer was staring at her hands, her face draining of all color. She suddenly dropped her clipboard roster and ran to the coaches office, slamming the door behind her.
"Now that's something you don't see every day," Buffy said quietly, "a gym teacher that actually runs." She exchanged glances with Willow as they hurried over to retrieve the roster.
"Coach Berringer? Are you okay?" Buffy called as she knocked on the office door. She turned the knob only to find it locked.
"I'm fine. I'm just not aging gracefully. Just go away." Coach Berringer's voice drifted from behind the door.
"You dropped your roster. We'll leave it here outside the door okay?" Buffy continued arching an eyebrow at Willow. Willow shrugged. There was no response from inside the office.
* * *
"I hope she's okay," Buffy said later as she and Willow strolled towards the library.
"Hey, what are you guys doing here?" Xander called as he turned a corner and caught up with the pair.
"We were let out of class early by Coach Berringer," Willow replied. "How about you?"
"We got let out of chemistry by Mr. Finkle early too," Xander nodded.
Buffy's eyes opened wide. "Was your teacher acting all weird and rubbing his temples?"
"Actually, he burned his eyebrows off trying to show us the correct way to light Bunsen burners. He went down to see the nurse," Xander replied.
"Isn't that a little weird though?" Buffy pursued.
"Not for Mr. Finkle. Two years ago he accidentally irradiated his sophomore class. And last year he tried to empty a spray can of paint by puncturing it with a nail. His skin and everything in the chem lab was baby blue for a month," Xander said with a smirk. Willow nodded solemnly in agreement as she remembered the incidents. "Where are you guys off to, anyways?" Xander asked.
"The library. Figured we'd check on Giles," Buffy said as the trio began to walk on down the hall. "It's been pretty quiet around here lately, so he's probably bored. Oh, by the way, we're heading to the Bronze tonight. You want to come?"
"You know I'm always ready to get my groove on," Xander replied as he flailed his arms and swung his body wildly to an imaginary beat. Buffy and Willow both laughed and pushed their way around him.
"What's so funny?" Xander cried down the hall after them, hurrying to catch up.
* * *
Giles sank heavily into a cushioned chair as he gasped for air, and passed a trembling hand over his eyes. The stacks of books on the table in front of him swam in his vision. He tried to ease his labored breathing by concentrating on the wrinkled lines of his palm. He frowned slightly at number of lines he found.
"Giles? You okay?" Buffy's voice drifted over from the entrance to the library. Giles looked up into Buffy's worried gaze in time to catch Xander and Willow exchange uneasy glances behind her.
"Ah, it's you three. Perfect timing, actually, I have something important to tell you," Giles began, sitting up in his chair with a wince. "Today's after school meeting is called off."
"Hey, I know it's been slow lately, Giles, but do you think it's wise to take a vacation?" Xander asked as he dropped his school texts on the already book strewn table.
"Believe me, Xander, if it were up to me I wouldn't cancel the meeting. Recently, however, I've begun to feel rather... ill."
"Giles, what's the matter?" Buffy said pulling up a chair next to him.
"Is anyone else here rather cold?" Giles asked, glancing nervously between the three of them with a shiver.
Xander shook his head and raised his palm towards Buffy and Willow.
"It feels comfortable in here, same as always," Willow replied.
"Well then, it's as I expected. I seem to have caught something, a virus perhaps. I've been shivering all day and recently I've had a bit of difficulty breathing," Giles said as he ran a finger over his hand.
"Then maybe it is time for a vacation. I mean being a Watcher is a 24 hour a day job, but I think Willow, Xander, and I can keep on top of things while you go get some rest. Right guys?" Buffy asked.
"Absolutely," Xander nodded.
"No problem," Willow added.
"It's settled then," Buffy concluded. "We'll hold the fort while you go home early."
"Well, thank you very much, all of you," Giles sighed. "I don't suppose I would be of much use to you in my present condition anyways. By the way, Willow, could you transcribe the rest of these books to the computer for me?"
"No problem. Just get some rest and feel better, okay?" Willow answered.
"Come on, we'll help you lock up the library," Xander said as he came over to help Giles out of his chair.
* * *
The Bronze was surprisingly empty for a Friday night. The dance floor was practically deserted, despite the live band's steady beat. Buffy adjusted the collar of her white blouse while she scanned the crowd. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Willow and Xander waving to her from the bar. She cut across the empty dance floor towards them, her gold skirt fluttering around her knees.
"Looking good, Buffy," Xander said as he gave her two thumbs up.
"Thanks. Have you guys seen Angel around?" Buffy said, giving the area another anxious look over. Xander rolled his eyes and sighed, leaning up against the bar while holding his head in his hands.
"No," Willow said, barely suppressing a giggle, "we just got here ourselves."
Zack the bartender, a burly man in his mid thirties, strolled up to them from behind the bar. "Hi ladies, what'll it be?"
"Hey, what about me?" Xander asked indignantly.
"Sorry, you're not my type," Zack replied with a wink. His bushy brown beard twitched as he laughed heartily. Suddenly he swayed on his feet and grabbed the bar.
"Zack!" Willow exclaimed as Zack sucked in a deep breath.
"I'm okay," he replied, "just give me a second."
"Maybe you better take it easy," Xander said eyeing him warily. "You know, less sarcasm more SERVICE."
"Xander," Buffy said, a warning tone to her voice. She turned to Zack. "When did you first start feeling ill."
"Just today," Zack began, then shook his head. "Listen kids, I need to sit down. I'll be back later, okay?"
Buffy opened her mouth to say something when she froze and spun around. Catching her alarmed face, Willow scanned the room.
"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked.
"Vampires," Buffy replied, her eyes darting back and forth.
"Vampires," Xander exclaimed jumping up onto his barstool as if they were about to burst from the floor. "Where?"
Buffy didn't answer. Instead she subtly felt concentrated her thoughts on sensing the presence of the vampires.
* * *
"Gregory, do you think it is safe hunting here? The Necromancer gave us leave to feed but told us to keep a low profile," Donovan asked rubbing a hand nervously through his unkempt blonde hair. He smelled blood and was eager for a kill. His muscles twitched underneath his tan sport coat in anticipation. A brunette, her skin flush with youth, passed by the pair, and Donovan let out a hungry growl in spite of himself.
Gregory snorted. "Bah, we won't need the fool for much longer. Besides, the young ones here haven't come under the spell yet," he said bobbing his head to the beat of the music. He paused a moment to smooth his dark blue suit. "Or would you rather feed on the decaying blood of the elderly?" he continued as he arched an eyebrow at his shorter friend.
"But how will we deal with the Necromancer. His magic gives him far greater power than we possess," Donovan said while eyeing a voluptuous blonde whose v-neck shirt exposed the gentle curve of her throat.
"We will wait until he begins casting from Izberian's spellbook. The completion of the Spell of Transfusion will take all his concentration." Gregory's dark brown eyes bored into Donovan. "That is when we will strike. And with the power he's accumulated from his latest spell... our feast will make us the strongest vampires on the planet!"
"There's Christopher," Donovan noted. A slim black man in a shining purple silk suit approached, herding three scantily clad teenage girls toward them.
"Girls, these are my friends that I've been telling you about. Donovan and Gregory, meet the girls," Christopher said with a sparkle in his eye that reflected off his shaved head. "Are you ready to see my Ferarri? It's parked out in the alley behind here," he said, leading the group towards the back of the Bronze.
"What color is it?" one of the girls asked with a squeal of delight.
"Red. Blood red," Christopher replied taking her by the hand.
"Ohhh, a red Ferarri," one of the girls sighed. "That's something to die for."
"Yes. Yes, indeed it is," Gregory chuckled as he snaked an arm around the girl.
* * *
"There," Buffy exclaimed as she pointed towards the back of the room. "Those three way overdressed guys exiting through the back." She immediately ran after them as they left the building.
"Buffy, wait!" Xander called after her, but she disappeared from view.
"Xander, I don't think Buffy has a weapon on her," Willow said as she grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with alarm.
"Oh man, and there's three of them," he muttered and jumped off his stool. With a swift kick, he broke a leg off the barstool, scooped it up, and hobbled after Buffy.
"No, Xander it's too danger--" Willow began but was cut off mid-sentence by a shrill scream. She whirled around only to see Zack collapse to the floor clutching his chest.
* * *
"I don't see a Ferarri," the lead girl said as Christopher dragged her deeper into the shadows of the alley.
"That's because there isn't one," Christopher laughed cruelly, spinning suddenly to reveal his wrinkled demon visage. All three girls screamed as Donovan and Gregory grabbed them before they could flee.
"Let them go." Buffy's calm but commanding voice came from the Bronze's back door, "Now." All three vampires looked up with curiosity as she stepped out into the alley, her heeled sandals clicking on the pavement. The light from inside shilhouetted her golden brown hair.
"My, my. Don't you just look good enough to eat," Gregory murmured, licking his lips.
"I said let them go." Buffy sauntered towards the vampires, arms folded in front of her. Suddenly she reached for her neck and pulled out Angel's silver cross. All three vampires hissed, baring their fangs. Gregory shielded his eyes from the symbol, while Donovan turned his shoulders away from it. Christopher glared balefully at Buffy while stepping backwards. Buffy continued forward, forcing the vampires away from their intended victims.
"Quick, get away from here," Buffy motioned to the girls with her free hand. The girls took one look between the snarling faces of the vampires and Buffy, then turned and stumbled together down the alley.
Xander suddenly appeared from the doorway. "Buffy, here I got you a --"
Gregory and Donovan jumped forward at the same instant, one knocking the cross aside, the other tackling Buffy's legs.
Christopher leapt passed them and slammed the back door with one hand, while pulling Xander out into the alley with the other. Xander backpedalled only to trip and fall over an overturned garbage can. The air raced from his lungs as he hit the pavement.
He looked up just in time to see a purple suited vampire launch itself straight at him. Instinctively he squeezed his eyes shut and brought his arms across his chest. A heavy weight slammed him back against the pavement. After a moment of realizing that he wasn't in any pain, Xander opened one eye... and stared right into the face of the demon. The vampire howled, sending Xander's ears ringing and nearly causing him to faint from the smell of the demon's breath.
Xander screamed, shaking his head and trying to edge himself out from underneath the creature.
Instead of biting him, however, the vampire continued to howl and clutch at its chest, where Xander could now see it had squarely impaled itself on the stake he had brought for Buffy. As the demon exhaled its last breath, its skin began to shrivel and wrinkle away like tissue paper until Xander stared only into an empty skull. The skeleton exploded into a cloud of dust, covering Xander from head to toe.
Xander coughed and spit out a mouthful of the sandy remains. He sat up in time to see Buffy kick a surprised vampire off of her and send him flying down the alley. As she stood up, however, the second tall demon with dark hair raced beneath her guard to take her to the ground.
Xander struggled to his feet. Before he could move, however, someone rushed from the shadows and delivered a vicious kick to the face of the vampire holding down Buffy. The demon sailed through the air, crashing into the recovering vampire and sending them both into the opposite wall of the alley with a wet crunch.
"Angel..." Xander heard Buffy's voice whisper.
Angel stood protectively in front of Buffy, his black jacket and slacks blending with the darkness of the alley. The two vampires gave the them a final snarl as they picked themselves up and fled into the shadows.
Angel bent over Buffy and helped pull her to her feet. She threw her arms around his neck and held him close. Angel froze for a moment before awkwardly returning the embrace. Xander strutted over towards them, a springy bounce in his step.
"I killed a vampire," he said, blowing on his fingernails and pretending to shine them on his dust covered sweatshirt.
Angel's face was cold marble. "You almost got Buffy killed."
"Now wait a minute, if you think --" Xander started, but Buffy cut him off.
"Enough. I needed both your help just now and I have a feeling I'm going to need it some more before the night is through. Where's Willow?"
"I don't know, she stayed inside," Xander replied keeping one eye on Angel. Angel's lip twitched as he returned the stare.
Buffy opened the door to the Bronze and gasped. A crowd had gathered in a large circle around the bar.
"Willow?" Xander yelled, rushing in and shoving his way through the milling teenagers. Buffy and Angel squeezed their way in behind him.
"What happened?" Buffy asked as she broke through the circle. Willow was kneeling on the ground next to a comatose body whose skin had turned a strange ashen color.
"It's Zack," Willow replied through her tears as she pushed both her palms repeatedly against his chest. "I think he had a heart attack." She went back to continuing CPR. "Three... Four.... Five..."
"Buffy, look at his hair," Xander said in awe. All of Zack's hair, including his beard, had turned steel grey. At that moment the paramedics burst into the room, clearing the crowd away.
"Geez, this is the eighth old guy to drop tonight," one of the paramedics muttered as he rushed by. He gently lifted a sobbing Willow away from Zack, while another paramedic continued trying to revive him.
Xander wrapped an arm around Willow, trying to support her. She grabbed his sweatshirt with both hands and buried her head in his chest.
"He's gonna be okay, right? I mean, he has to be okay," she pleaded with him.
"He'll be fine," Xander patted her back softly, "we just have to let the paramedics do their job, that's all."
"He looks like he's seventy years old," Angel said softly as the paramedics carried Zack away.
"I think he is," Buffy replied. "I'll explain later. Right now, we have to find Giles."
* * *
Buffy finally found the right key to the school library and threw the doors open.
"Quick, put him down over there," she said to Angel while flipping on the lights. Angel gently laid Giles down on the chair Buffy had pointed to as if he weighed no more than a feather. Willow ran over to the computer and turned on the power, drumming her fingers on the keyboard as she waited for the system to warm up. Xander, meanwhile, began grabbing books off the shelves and bringing them over to the main table.
"It's a good think you came to my house to get me when you did," Giles wheezed. "I simply couldn't stand up on my own anymore." The lines and wrinkles around his eyes had increased dramatically since that afternoon, and his fingers seemed to be frozen in a claw-like position.
"Guys, listen to this," Willow called from the computer. "I've hacked into the hospital records. They show eight deaths tonight having been recorded. In every instance the cause of death is listed as old age."
"What about Zack, is he okay?" Buffy asked.
"He's listed in serious but stable condition," Willow nodded after entering a few keystrokes.
"Considering everything we know at this point, including my illness, I think it's safe to say something is draining the town's life force and causing people to age," Giles said then shivered. "Could I have another blanket please?"
"Any ideas on what's causing this?" Buffy asked as she draped a heavy blanket they had brought from Giles' house around his shoulders.
"The Necromancer," Angel said, his face more pale than usual.
"Hey, don't ask and don't tell is my policy when it comes to sexual preferences," Xander said holding up his hands.
"No, Xander, I believe Angel is referring to a wizard that specializes in the black arts of death and undeath," Giles sighed.
"Not just any wizard, a specific one," Angel continued. "I overheard the vampires we ran into before talking. They didn't know I was watching them from the Bronze's suspended rampart."
"And they mentioned this Necromancer?" Buffy asked.
"They said he was extremely powerful. And that he's cast a spell on the town in order to gain power for himself. He needs it for a Spell of Transfusion, whatever that is," Angel nodded.
"The Spell of Transfusion! Xander bring me that red leather bound book please, and open it towards the middle," Giles said, his voice seeming to come from far away.
"Have you heard of it Giles?" Buffy asked, alarmed by his expression.
"Unfortunately yes. Ah, here it is," Giles said pointing a gnarled finger at the book Xander held open for him. "The Spell of Transfusion was the greatest accomplishment of the 14th century necromancer Izberian. Essentially, it drained the life energy of everything in a one-mile radius in order to bring the object of the spellcasters wish back to life. The energy drain starts with the older animals and people first, then progresses on to the young. Izberian was killed before he could test the spell. Assassinated, actually, and his spell book was lost for many years. It was discovered again in the 19th century by a German Watcher who later came to settle --" Giles paused for a moment before finishing reading the sentence, "in California."
"One guess as to which town he chose to live in," sighed Xander.
"The spell could bring anyone back to life?" Willow asked.
"Anyone the spellcaster names, so long as he or she has a body to encase the spirit within. A Vessel in spellcasting terms," Giles replied, his brows contracting.
"Wait a minute, you mean the crazy wizard who cast this spell could resurrect Moloch the Demon? Or the Master? And use our life energies to do it?" Xander asked leaning forward.
"I'm afraid so, yes," Giles replied.
"How do we stop him," Buffy said firmly.
"As far as I know, killing the wizard before he completes the spell should release the energy he has stored. Other than that, only the caster himself would have the power to direct the energy back to his victims."
"I've found something in the computer database," Willow exclaimed suddenly. The others crowded around the computer terminal. "One of the books I scanned today was a translated journal. The author claims to have been an apprentice of Izberian's. He didn't copy the exact spell into his journal but he did describe the casting."
"It says here the casting requires a 20 foot pentagram inscribed on holy ground," Buffy said, skimming the text that scrolled by the screen.
"The old abandoned church about a mile outside town," Angel said suddenly. "It's the perfect spot."
"Well, what are we waiting for let's go," Xander said heading for the door.
"No, wait," Buffy held up her hand. "You and Willow have to stay behind to help Giles. I'll head to the church to try and stop the spell."
"I'm going with you," Angel broke in. "This is too dangerous to handle alone." Buffy gave him a nod of thanks as she walked over to the weapon cabinet and withdrew the crossbow from its mount.
"Buffy," Giles called softly. The skin around his glazed eyes sagged, forming deep indentations above his cheeks. "Normally I would cherish something as rare as the knowledge contained in Izberian's spellbook," he began, talking with obvious difficulty. "However, I believe our current situation shows how dangerous that knowledge can be. You must destroy the book at all costs so that nothing of this nature can happen again."
"Don't worry, Giles, we'll take care of it," Buffy said. "Take good care of him guys," she continued with a glance at Xander and Willow before rushing out of the library with Angel close behind.
* * *
The night was still and damp. A chill mist flowed across the silent graveyard, seemingly glowing with its own luminescence.
"Isn't there another way in?" Buffy asked as she surveyed the crumbling tombstones and ragged monuments. In the distance the mists parted for a moment to reveal the decaying remains of the half collapsed stone church.
"This is the fastest way," Angel replied. Having left his jacket back at the library, his white collarless button up and the surroundings gave him the impression of a ghost. "Ready?" he asked.
Buffy looked down at herself. She had changed into loose fitting nylon pants that allowed her easy movement. These were tucked into steel tipped boots, specially designed to be lightweight for kicking. Over her white blouse she wore a light leather vest. She checked the inside lapels of the vest to ensure that her three stakes and a vial of holy water were securely fastened. She felt the crossbow digging lightly into her back as she adjusted the carrying strap.
"Let's do this," Buffy said inhaling deeply.
* * *
"Come on Giles, hang in there," Xander said, tucking the blankets tighter around the shivering old man's throat. Giles could only nod in reply.
"Hey, have you been keeping a cat in here Willow?" Xander asked suddenly.
"No," Willow replied with mild annoyance as she typed furiously away on the computer keyboard.
"Then where is all this hair coming from?" Xander asked, standing up and swatting at his clothes. Willow looked up from the monitor and gasped, her hand immediately covering her mouth as she looked at Xander.
"Oh no," Xander said, his eyes locked onto Willow's. He tentatively raised a hand to his head and gently pulled on his hair. A fistful came out easily. Xander stared at the hair clutched in his hand for a moment. "This can't be good for my social life," he said as he shook his head in disbelief.
"The spell, it's affecting us too now," Willow said. She raised a hand to her face. "Xander--"
Xander crossed the room to her in a second. He gently touched her cheek just beneath her eye as she waited anxiously.
"Crow's feet," he nodded, caressing her face. Their eyes locked on each other as Xander continued to stroke her face. "You know Willow, we might grow old and die together so there's something I ought to tell you," Xander began, unusually serious.
The computer suddenly began beeping loudly.
"What's that?" Xander asked startled.
"Nothing!" Willow replied grabbing his hand before he could withdraw it. "You were saying?"
Xander opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.
"I really think we better check that out," he said gently detaching her hand from his and walking around her to the computer. Unseen behind him, Willow grit her teeth and let her head fall forward.
"What does it mean?" Xander asked, pointing at a flashing exclamation point on the screen.
"I programed the computer to notify us if anyone makes any 911 calls, so we could tell how far the spell is progressing," Willow said as she dropped back into her seat in front of the keyboard. "Oh wow," Willow breathed as she read the post that flashed up on the screen. "Cordiellia's mother has reported her abducted."
"Who in their right mind would want to kidnap Cordiellia?" Xander wondered aloud.
"There are two suspects. One was tall and lean, with dark hair. The other was shorter with blonde hair and wearing a tan coat, apparently," Willow continued reading.
"The vampires?" Xander exclaimed. "Guess they were in the mood for something sour."
* * *
"Don't you guys know Halloween isn't for another six months?" Cordiellia gasped. The blonde demon shoved her into the broken cathedral. "Hey, watch it, these are designer jeans!"
"Shut up! You're lucky to still be alive," Donovan hissed, his bestial face flush with anger.
Cordiellia spun suddenly and buried a knee into his groin. She jumped aside as he buckled, preparing to run towards the graveyard. A hand snapped out of the darkness and grabbed her by the throat. She fought for breath as the taller demon materialized from the shadows and lifted her with one arm until they were eye to eye.
"The Necromancer wants you alive. However, a few bruises and cuts won't disturb his spellwork," Gregory mentioned calmly. "Be a good girl and we'll have no problems. Misbehave," he continued, squeezing her neck until both of them could hear her bones creaking, "and accidents will happen." He let her struggle for breath a moment further before dropping her roughly to the ground. Cordiellia coughed and gasped as she tried to refill her lungs with air.
"Carry her," Gregory commanded Donovan before entering the main area of the chapel. He immediately spied a figure swathed in black robes, reading silently from a book that rested upon a fluted pedestal.
"You're late," the Necromancer called without turning from his work. In front of him the rubbish and broken pews of the church had been cleared away and a large pentagram inscribed on the floor with purple chalk. It glowed with an unholy light that wafted upon the air like smoke. "And where is Christopher?"
"We ran into trouble in town," Gregory said kneeling. Donovan entered the room and flung Cordiellia in front of him before kneeling. "However, we did bring the Vessel."
"Trouble?" The Necromancer turned and removed his cowl.
"What's wrong with your face?" Cordiellia gasped. As she watched, the man's skin blurred and reshaped itself until it formed the image of a young man, not older than his early twenty's. The pentagram's purple glow reflected off his bald scalp. He regarded Cordiellia with piercing hazel eyes for a moment before replying.
"I am growing younger," he said with the trace of a smile. "And soon, you will be my wife."
"With you making THAT kind of fashion statement?" she asked incredulously pointing at the wizard's tattered black robe and cowl. "I think not."
"Sleep," the Necromancer commanded with a laugh. Cordiellia melted to the floor. "She's a spicy one, eh? A pity I have to displace her soul." He raised his hand towards the ceiling with his palm up. Cordiellia's limp body drifted upward, carried by an unseen force. The Necromancer guided her into the center of the pentagram and gently laid her on her back.
"Now, you mentioned trouble?" he continued turning back to the two vampires.
"Yes, master," Gregory said, nearly choking on the word. "A young girl with strength equal to our own and who knew our true nature interfered with our feeding. Christopher was killed--"
"A Slayer? Here in Sunnydale? It IS a small world after all," the Necromancer mused. He rubbed his bald head, pausing to smile at the elastic wrinkle-free skin of his hands. The smile disappeared in an instant. "I told you not to attract attention. I must not be disturbed during this portion of the spell. At the very least she will come looking for you two. Go, and make sure you take care of her this time."
Gregory and Donovan exchanged glances. "But Master," Donovan began, "don't you think it would be wiser if we waited here with you? To protect you, of course."
"Do you really think me such a fool after all these centuries Donovan?" the Necromancer laughed cruelly. "I've been betrayed before, remember?" He pointed his index finger at each vampire in turn.
Donovan and Gregory fell to the floor, gasping as pain seared their bodies. Their eyes flashed a brilliant red color as they thrashed about on the floor.
"Do not forget I am the Necromancer and have power over all undead. Step into this chamber again while I am casting the spell and I will disintegrate you both," the Necromancer turned away from them. "Either way, you will destroy the Slayer or be destroyed. Leave me."
* * *
Buffy and Angel picked their way carefully towards the entrance of the stone church. The splintered wooden doors lay off their hinges to either side of the gaping archway.
"Angel, can you see that up ahead?" Buffy asked in a hushed voice, squinting through the darkness at a faint glow inside.
"So we meet again," a voice called close by from her left. Buffy barely had time to draw a stake and turn before a shadow slammed into her side.
"Buffy!" Angel cried taking a step forward. Something jumped on to his back and clawed at his windpipe, attempting to tear it out. Running backwards, he slammed his assailant into a crumbling tombstone. Grabbing the arm that was wrapped around his throat, he dropped to his knees and threw the attacker head over heels.
Buffy, meanwhile, fell backwards while planting a foot on the stomach of her attacker. Using the momentum of the fall, she hurled him behind her and scrambled to her feet.
"You guys never learn, do you?" she said, recognizing the black haired vampire from the Bronze.
Gregory only snarled in reply and lunged forward. Buffy gracefully sidestepped and delivered a solid roundhouse kick to his back. He stumbled forward for an instant, then turned just in time to catch a vial full of holy water in the face. His scream echoed across the courtyard as the water burned away at his flesh.
Buffy drove a stake through the disoriented vampire's ribs. As the body collapsed to the ground in a pile of dust she unslung the already loaded crossbow.
"Angel, down!" she yelled taking aim. Angel hooked a final punch to Donovan's jaw before dropping to the damp ground. A crossbow bolt hissed over his head and ripped through Donovan, sending him staggering back. Donovan grabbed feebly at the arrow for a moment before his body crumbled away, leaving his jacket to flutter to the ground.
"The crossbow string broke," Buffy said in dismay, tossing the weapon aside as she helped Angel to his feet. Suddenly she gasped in pain.
"What's wrong?" Angel asked supporting her. They both watched as wrinkles began to crease the smooth skin of Buffy's hand. "There's not much time, let's go," he said helping her forward into the church.
They entered the main worship area cautiously, avoiding the broken wood and crumbling mortar that lay strewn across the floor. Buffy gripped her stake tightly as the purple pentagram came into view. It glowed continuously and sent streams of purple energy floating up towards the gaping holes of the church ceiling. Buffy's eyes were drawn to the pale figure lying within the light.
"Cordiellia," Buffy said as she sucked in a quick breath.
"You must be the Slayer," a man in flowing black robes called to them from in front of the circle. His hand rested on a thick book to his right. "And a very peculiar one at that considering the company you keep," he amended with a glance at Angel, who appeared from behind her. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Izberian."
"But you're--" Buffy said halting in mid-step.
"Dead?" Izberian finished for her. "As the great Mark Twain once said: the reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. I was betrayed and left for dead by my apprentices, who hoped to ursurp my power and prestige." Izberian shook his head. "The fools tried to use my spells and were consumed by their own magic. Who says there is no justice in the world?" he finished with a mocking shrug.
"What do you want with Cordiellia?" Buffy asked, motioning towards the pentagram. She bit her lip as she realized her eyesight was becoming blurry.
"Actually, like most young men, I have no interest in her. Only her body," Izberian replied pleasantly. "You see, your friend will provide the perfect form for my dear Elizabeth. She's the whole reason I delved into sorcery, really." His eyes grew unfocused. "Back in the 14th century, no one knew about devastating diseases such as leukemia, never mind how to cure them. Elizabeth was my fiance, the center of my universe. When the pain became too great for her, I bound her spirit between this world and the next." His head snapped forward. "That's far enough," he commanded as Buffy and Angel closed on him.
He raised a hand toward Angel, who screamed and fell to his knees while clutching his head. "All undead are under my domain, for I am the Necromancer," Izberian said as he glowered at Angel. "I command you to kill the Slayer."
Angel jumped to his feet, his face twisted into the demonic form of the vampire. Glowing red eyes focused on Buffy as he stalked forward with a growl.
"Angel," Buffy called to him, a quiver in her voice. She brought her stake up between her and the advancing vampire. "Angel, I know you can still hear me. It's me, Buffy."
Angel continued forward, his lip curling away from his fangs in a sneer.
"Kill her. And be quick about it," Izberian said turning back to his spellbook.
"Don't make me do this, Angel," Buffy said, slowly retreating from him. Her joints creaked with every movement even as her vision faded further.
In a blur of movement, Angel grabbed her by the wrist and wrenched the stake from her hand. He growled a hungry, throaty chuckle. Buffy felt the heat of his hunger in the searing grip of his fingertips.
"Angel," she called to him quietly, looking straight into the depths of his glowing eyes, "I love you."
Angel hissed and opened his mouth wide, exposing both sharp incisors. He raised Buffy's stake high above her head and held it there for one brief moment. Then in one quick motion he spun around and hurled the stake end over end at the Necromancer.
Izberian cried out as the force of the throw imbedded the stake in his right shoulder. "Impossible," Izberian shouted. "All undead obey my commands."
"Never met a vampire with a soul before, have you?" Angel replied. Izberian snarled and pointed at Angel, whose eyes flashed red again as he fell to the floor writhing in pain.
Buffy could smell Angel's burning flesh as she threw herself at the Necromancer. Izberian began chanting strange words, his hands dancing in the air in front of him.
Despite the screaming protest from her joints, Buffy tucked herself into a ball and rolled as Izberian finished his spell. Her hair stood on end as lightening bolts crackled from his fingertips and arced over her head. Buffy tumbled into the Necromancer and bowled him to the floor. Lightening sparked wildly around the room, setting pieces of broken furniture aflame. Buffy grabbed Izberian's wrists, gritting her teeth as electricity burned over her arms, and aimed the flickering bolts at the fluted pedestal just outside the pentagram.
"No!" the Necromancer screamed, realizing her intention too late. The blinding sparks crawled across the pedestal and the book that lay upon it. In a flash of golden light, the book exploded. A shockwave of heat and thunder ripped Buffy off Izberian and sent her skidding across the floor.
"It took me centuries to find that book after my apprentices lost it," Izberian shrieked as both he and Buffy struggled to their feet. His voice dropped to a cutting whisper. "You will pay for a lifetime of knowledge with your own life."
"Izberian, stop!" a female voice echoed over the rubble.
Buffy risked a glance at the pentagram, still emanating it's strange glow. Through her blurry vision she glimpsed Cordiellia, hanging suspended in mid-air, her mouth gaping open. Though her lips did not move, a voice issued from Cordiellia's throat.
"No more innocents shall die in my name, Izberian," the voice continued.
"Elizabeth? But how?" the Necromancer asked, his face paling.
"The spell is almost complete. It allows me to use this girl as my oracle," the voice replied.
"We were robbed of our time together, my love," he said quickly. "I will finish this and we will be together once more."
"Please, Izberian, let this end," the voice pleaded. "You used to take me to the lake to feed the swans and carve toys out of wood for my brothers. Look at what you have become, what you have sacrificed just so you wouldn't have to let go of the past."
"But I did this for you, Elizabeth," Izberian cried, stepping towards the pentagram. "We could rule this world together, you and I. With my magic we would live forever."
"How could I live in a world that would despise me for the pain I bring it? What is being together worth if the world must suffer because of it?" the voice sighed. "I never wanted magic or power. I simply wanted you, Izberian. You can fix the damage you have caused here. Come back to me, my darling. Do you remember your vow to me in the rose garden? The day you proposed?"
Izberian paled and cast his gaze to the floor. "I remember..." he whispered softly.
Cordiellia's body slowly drifted back to the floor. Buffy cautiously approached the Necromancer.
"She still loves you in spite of all you've done," she began. "You could throw that love away and live forever. But you would be forever alone."
Izberian grimaced, still staring at the floor.
"Sometimes life interferes with love in a major way," Buffy replied, casting a glance at Angel. "Maybe the best we can do is to cherish the moments that brought us together before we have to part."
"I vowed I would die for her in the rose garden," Izberian said. "Six centuries ago. Yet this whole time I've been avoiding death and my vow, all in her name." He looked up at Buffy. "I will reverse the spell. Your friends should all recover."
Raising his hands high above his head, Izberian began to chant. Buffy felt the stones tremble underneath her feet as the words of power rolled across the room. The air around the Necromancer shimmered and rolled away like a wave.
Buffy watched the varicose veins and wrinkled lines fade from her flesh as the wavering air passed over her. Her vision snapped into focus as more waves of energy rolled through her and out into the night. Behind her she heard Angel groan and stir.
Izberian stood still, arms outstretched to the night. Buffy blinked as his image dimmed from sight. The waves grew more frequent and intense. The purple pentagram flared for a final brief moment, then winked out, plunging the church into darkness.
Izberian was gone.
A breeze whistled through the cracked walls, and Buffy heard a voice, as if from far away.
"Elizabeth..."
* * *
"Well, I must say we cut things rather close this time," Giles stated, leaning back into his chair and wiping his glasses clean with a small cloth. "Although I now have a new appreciation for keeping in shape during the golden years. Maybe I'll join you on your morning runs, Buffy."
"Are you sure you couldn't have sped things up a little bit?" Xander mumbled despondently as he pulled his cap lower down around his ears.
"Don't worry, Xander. It grows back," Willow reassured him from her seat across the table. "So Angel, you don't remember anything that happened after you two defeated the vampires?"
"It's all a blur," Angel said with a shake of his head. He rubbed his chin with his right hand. "You said the Necromancer knocked me unconscious?" he asked Buffy.
"Right. You drew his attention and allowed me a chance to destroy the spellbook," Buffy replied quickly, searching Angel's face. "So how's Zack?" she asked Willow before Angel could ask another question.
"Xander and I went to see him today," Willow replied. "He's making a miraculous recovery according to the doctors."
"Yeah, we bumped into Cordiellia while we were there," Xander added. "She's not sure what happened to her, but she's holding you personally responsible."
"So I guess true love finally overcame all in the end, right Buffy?" Willow asked.
"Wha -- What do you mean?" Buffy said, jumping slightly from her chair and casting an alarmed glance at Angel.
"Well, the Necromancer finally realized that his true love's wishes were more important to him than his magic and power. What did you think I meant?"
"Nothing, Willow," Buffy leaned back and smiled at Angel. A faint smile traced his lips as he returned her gaze. "Nothing at all."
THE END
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