OOM: Geburah, Part IV
[After this]
Roger Wyndham-Pryce did not like surprises, but this one was particularly unwelcome. “Wesley! What are you doing here?”
“I--.”
“Do you have any idea how perilous this place is? Well, of course, you must. Or at any rate, you should, you certainly received the training. Assuming, that is, you bothered to pay attention-.”
“Father!”
Roger stared. “I trust there is a reason for this show of disrespect?"
“Only that the moment demands some explanation, and criticism of me might wait for another time.”
“Quite. Very well. Since you're here, I assume you do recognize this place?”
“Yes, the Death Realms. Specifically the Great City of--.”
“Well, of course, we’re in the Death Realms, boy. I mean this place.”
Wesley looked around them. It took a moment, but the realization struck him soon enough.
Roger gruffed, “And now you understand why I am here?”
“….Father you must leave this place.”
“I intend to, Wesley, at the earliest opportunity. Though your presence here--. No, never mind. We haven’t the time. We must find it, and quickly.”
“It?" Wesley took a step closer to his father. "What? What are you looking for here?"
A look of disgust crossed the older man's face. "You have no idea, do you?" His father stood back on his ghostly heels and assumed the professorial air Wesley had always hated. "There is a reference to this cathedral in the Shrewsbury Codex, which states that one might find here documents once kept in the Library of Caelano. I assume that that name, at least, is known to you?"
"Caelano?" Wesley repeated, feeling a chill. "You believe the Fragments might be found here?"
"The Caelano Fragments, yes, or perhaps, the Pnakotic Manuscripts. Shrewsbury was, as usual, lamentably vague on the matter."
"But why now? Why come for them now?"
"Because his son is dead, Wesley. Dead at last, and the Council has finally gained access to the rest of his father's papers. I have been sent on a spirit journey here to determine their exact location and report back to the Council."
"You don't intend to take them back with you?"
“Wesley, don't be foolish. How could I take them from here in this spirit form? Once I've confirmed their location, I will inform the Council. At which point we will be forced to mount an extremely dangerous physical expedition to this Realm. Only a physical... form..."
His father's expression had suddenly changed, and his spirit took several steps closer to his son. "Wesley, what on Earth...?"
“Yes, Father. I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice.”
It had been many years since Wesley had seen his father at a loss for words, much less concerned for his welfare. But now the expression on the face of Roger Wyndham-Pryce truly surprised his son.
“Wesley--. My boy--. What happened?”
This wasn’t how Wesley had imagined this moment. Not here, in this unimaginable place. And not with his father like this.... Wesley felt a catch in his throat.
“Cyvus--."
“Cyvus? Cyvus Vail? But that’s impossible. What would ever possess you to challenge a monster like-. My god, it was him, wasn’t it? That damnable Angelus! He put you up to it, didn't he?”
“Yes, Father, Angel asked me to confront him. It was my part in a master stroke against the Circle of the Black Thorn."
"The what?"
"The Circle of the Black Thorn. A cabal of the highest Earth-bound operatives in service to Wolfram & Hart. A cabal, I might add, that has never been known to the Watchers Council.”
“Cyvus... this Circle....," his father's eyes widened. "That battle--! The one in Los Angeles. I thought, perhaps, you might know something of it--. (Too much to hope you might have reported to us--.) But in all my wildest speculations, I never imagined--." Roger fell silent again, staring at his son.
“Wesley.” His father's voice was warmer now, betraying a concern Wesley could not remember hearing from him before, one that put him quite off-balance. “Is this where your spirit was sent? Have you been dwelling here? If so, I swear to you, I will find a way--."
“No, Father. No, I came here from.... elsewhere. A.....safe place, but one that's.... difficult to explain.” Made even more difficult by the look of relief that came over his father's face. “I wasn’t sure why I’d been drawn here, but I think, perhaps, this must have been the reason. To meet you here."
“Wesley. This is important.” Roger took another step forward and reached out to touch his son. As his hand passed through Wesley's body, Roger could now see that, unlike him, Wesley was solid-proof of his son's death, for only the dead or the demonic could be physical in this place without powerful magics.
“If you have a physical presence here, if you have the means to take the papers away--. Wesley, you could put them beyond the reach of those who would use them against humanity. This could be a tremendous opportunity."
Wesley was already nodding. “Yes, Father. This place where I live now. The papers could be made safe there.”
“Wesley, I have never been more proud of you than now. This is a great thing you are about to do, my boy.”
Of course, his father assumed the decision had been made. But for once Wesley would let Roger Wyndham-Pryce have his way.
“Yes, Father” Wesley replied, eying the altar, “Now all that remains is the actual doing of it."
And while the altar stood quiet and harmless, he had no doubt that recovery would be perilous indeed.
[Continued here]