The Summoning 5

Gerald straightened up and grinned triumphantly at Giles.

"I told you I was the one who was worthy. It could NEVER have been you - you're too weak. You don't have the inner strength for this," sneered Gerald. "Quentin was wrong to have chosen you and he'll learn the extent of his mistake soon enough."

"Well, Mr Montague, if this 'thing' would choose someone like YOU, then you are both more than welcome to one another," replied Giles firmly. "I want no part of it."

"Gentlemen, please," cut in Julian as he walked over to the table and opened a drawer, "this antagonism is entirely unnecessary."

Julian reached into the drawer and pulled out a metal sphere. Beautiful, thought Giles, superb construction, but those jewels dotted about its surface seem just thrown on. There doesn't seem to be any recognisable pattern. Julian walked over to stand in front of Gerald and held up the sphere reverently.

"Behold," he said softly, "Vulcan's Bane."

Giles shuddered at the expression on Gerald's face. It was desperate, hungry. His eyes were cold and intense, his lips thin and bloodless and his entire face seemed shrouded in shadow - a darkness that emanated from within. In that moment, Gerald resembled a snake ready to strike at its prey. This can't happen, thought Giles as he took a step forward, they can't do this. Julian glanced briefly at Giles and then, with an almost imperceptible shake of his head, turned his attention back to Gerald. Giles frowned, his eyes widening in disbelief as one word, spoken in a soft but commanding voice, echoed in his head: wait. It was a voice that inspired trust and belief, a voice that echoed in eternity. Such loneliness, thought Giles, it aches for companionship, it needs this sharing. Giles let his instincts guide him once again and he stepped back, thrusting his hands into his pockets - watching and waiting.

"Will you accept your fate, Mr Montague? Do you make this decision of your own free will?" Asked Julian eagerly and Gerald nodded emphatically.

"I do."

"Very well," replied Julian, "then prepare to receive the immortality you so richly deserve."

Julian held the Sphere aloft and it blazed with light, a brightness so intense that Giles closed his eyes and lowered his head. Gerald laughed with delight as the light surrounded him, entered him. It flooded his being, touching every part of him and Gerald felt himself start to alter - to change. The power was intense and Gerald's body started to vibrate, his eyes widening as a burst of pain surged through him. What's happening? This doesn't feel right, he thought. He tried to speak, but had no voice. He tried to pull away, but could feel no body. He was blind; deaf; unable to touch; not breathing. There was nothing. No sound. No light. Just a never-ending darkness. Bastards! What have they done to me? Gerald's silent mental screams of desperation went unheard ... his struggles were ineffective. I'm trapped...

As the glow from the Sphere died, Julian smiled and placed it gently on the table.

"You may open your eyes now, Mr Giles."

Giles opened his eyes and looked around, a frown crossing his face.

"What happened? Where is he?"

Julian's smile widened.

"Safely out of the way," he replied. Giles glared at him and Julian sighed. "He is still here, Mr Giles."

Julian pointed to the Sphere.

"Each of these jewels is, or rather was, a person - there is now a new one. You see, Gerald Montague did not serve Chaos and he did not serve Light. He had one interest: immortality for himself. We have learnt over Centuries that Mankind is not ready and that those who seek it are dangerous individuals interested only in personal gain. Oh, he has what he desired - to all intents and purposes he IS immortal." Julian grinned and peered closely at the Sphere. "You know, I thought he'd become a Sapphire not a Ruby."

"Dear god," muttered Giles, unable to tear his eyes away from the sparkling ruby. "So it's a trap. The whole immortality thing is nothing but a clever trap."

"Well not entirely," Julian turned to look at Giles. "YOU have been chosen, Mr Giles. You will merge with Vulcan's Bane. And whilst eventually your body will die, your thoughts, memories and feelings will not. They will be preserved and your knowledge will be used by those who come after you."

"What if I refuse?"

"You cannot refuse and tell me honestly - do you REALLY want to turn this down?"

Julian picked up the Sphere, moved across to Giles and held it out to him.

"All you have to do is hold it in both hands."

Giles looked up. "As YOU did?"

"Oh yes. A long time ago, Mr Giles, a VERY long time ago. It was a huge support to me during difficult times. It offered knowledge, advice and company. Believe me, it will be necessary in the dark days that are to come. You will need it. And it will need you. You have a long, hard road ahead of you - do not allow your stubbornness to stand in the way of something that can smooth your path."

"I will admit I'm not entirely convinced," replied Giles with a sigh, "but sometimes you have to simply stop thinking and trust your instincts."

Slowly, Giles reached out his hands and took the Sphere from Julian.

"And what of you, Julian? Who precisely ARE you?"

Julian grinned as he started to fade.

"You can find me in the annals of Ancient History, Mr Giles," he said and one final phrase seemed to hang in the air as he disappeared completely. "Fere libenter homines id quod volunt credunt."

Giles frowned; repeating the phrase under his breath before his eyes widened and a smile crossed his face.

"Good lord," he muttered, looking down at the Sphere. "Did he serve Chaos or Light? Never mind - I have my own ideas about that. Well, I'm going to be in interesting company anyway. So, my little friend, what do I do now?"

A soft glow surrounded the Sphere and Giles felt his palms begin to tingle. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation but he still mentally braced himself for the pain he was expecting. The tingle travelled up his arms, soon encompassing his whole body. The first soft touch on his mind was barely noticeable but it grew in intensity and Giles had the impression of being filled - as though a vessel were being emptied into him. Which is probably what's happening, he mused. Tendrils weaved through his mind, linking and merging with him - separate yet one. It embraced him - settling gently into his mind as though it belonged there. Not uncomfortable at all, thought Giles, in fact, I think under normal circumstances I'd barely notice it. Welcome to my mind, he thought, smiling as a feeling of gratitude flooded through him. Giles glanced down at the now dark Sphere. Put it somewhere safe, came the thought and Giles nodded. Moving to the table, he rummaged around in the drawers, finally coming up with an old and somewhat battered carrier bag. Placing the Sphere in the bag, he straightened up and raised a questioning eyebrow. Shall we go? The feeling of anticipation and hope wasn't unexpected and Giles nodded in satisfaction. Good - we have a lot of things to think about, my friend.



The rap on his car window caused John Downing to visibly jump and the soft chuckle from the young man hovering outside certainly didn't improve his mood. Muttering under his breath, he wound down the window.

"What do you want?" He snapped and the young man smiled nervously.

"Um, did you order a pizza?" He held up the box hopefully.

"Yes," John grinned, "and it's about bloody time. What do I owe you?"

"£10.50," came the reply as the box was handed to him. John put the pizza on the cluttered passenger seat and, following a quick trawl through various pockets, held out the correct money.

"Oh great. Thanks." The young man glared as he snatched the money.

"Sod off," replied John as he wound the window back up. Making himself comfortable, he opened the box, deftly extracting a slice of pizza. He inhaled deeply and almost groaned aloud in delight. God, this smells amazing. He took a large bite, ignoring the cheese that dribbled onto his chin. Ohhhh wonderful. There are good pizzas; there are bad pizzas; this is a GREAT pizza. John took another bite and then mentally cursed as the front door of the Museum opened and Rupert Giles stepped out. John dropped the slice of pizza, wiped his hands on his shirtfront and scrambled for his phone, knocking the pizza box to the floor as he did so.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! You HAD to bloody come out now, didn't you?"

John furiously punched buttons on his phone and glared out of the window at Giles. Why's he just standing there? Doesn't he have a bloody home to go to?

"Mr Travers? Yes - Mr Giles - yes, he's quite alone." John paused and then nodded. "Very well, sir."

John ended the call and, glaring once more at Giles, he tossed the phone aside. Right, you arsehole, he thought as he started the car, you're on your bloody own.



Quentin Travers breathed a sigh of relief and put down the phone. He looked up at Bernard and grinned.

"Rupert's left the Museum - alone."

"He survived, thank God," replied Bernard, "but what about Gerald?"

"He appears to have lost, which is the main thing," shrugged Travers. "Send in a clean-up team to make sure."

Bernard nodded and stood up.

"What about Rupert?" He said quietly. "What happens now?"

"We let him come to us," said Travers. "I think this time we simply have to trust him - trust his judgement. We don't know whether he merged with Vulcan's Bane - we don't know what effect this will have. We can't go barging in. Letting Rupert do things his own way seems to yield results."



Giles sat in his car and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He could feel the presence in his mind, learning, absorbing information. It was an exhilarating feeling and Giles realised that, with an effort, he could see things through ITS eyes. There was a surprising innocence about it; a sense of almost childlike wonder and Giles couldn't help smiling. Upon reaching adulthood, he mused, we lose sight of the child within. We see things from an adult perspective, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but sometimes we fail to see the beauty and joy in the simple things of life. Giles started the engine but made no attempt to move. Now what? The reply that came caused him to grin widely: Now we learn about one another. We must become one yet remain separate. We will test limits, discover boundaries. I have much knowledge at your disposal and we will need to learn to work together if we are both to survive the darkness that is coming. Giles frowned. What darkness? The presence mentally shrugged. I am unsure, came the thought, I merely know it is coming. Giles nodded and relaxed. Then learn, he thought, everything is open to you. Giles felt the gratitude from the presence and responded in kind. Reaching up, he put on his seatbelt and then stopped as a thought drifted through his mind: I am no longer alone. He frowned - whose thought was that? Mine or his? Giles shrugged and pulled away from the Museum. It doesn't matter, he smiled, it really doesn't matter.

The End - or is it?

(Latin quote: "Men willingly believe what they wish" - De Bello Gallico, iii. 18 - Julius Caesar)



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