TITLE: 'Out of Africa' 15/?
AUTHOR: Pythia
E-MAIL: pythia@tiscali.co.uk
DISCLAIMER: The characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy,
Sandollar Productions, Kuzui Enterprises, 20th Century Fox Television and
the UPN Television Network. The story is written for the pleasure of the
author and readers, and has no lucrative purpose whatsoever. Please do not
reproduce this story anywhere without the author's consent.
POSTING NOTES: *.* is for emphasis. {.} denotes thought and [.] implies
translation from another language.
"Any joy? Anyone?" Buffy pushed away what had to be the eighth or ninth book away from her, asking her question hopefully, but with the distinct feeling that *hope* was spiralling away from her with increasing speed. She'd wrestled her way through texts on Egyptian burial rites, translations of obscure papyri, and endless transcriptions of hieroglyphs from equally obscure tombs. She'd learnt more about the myths of Osiris and the process of embalming than she'd ever wanted to know, and she was no closer to finding a way of restoring Giles' soul to its rightful place than she'd been before she started.
Xander sighed, pushing the book he'd been reading away with almost exactly the same despairing gesture. "Nada," he declared gloomily. "I can tell you how to speak to crocodiles, predict the flooding of the Nile, or part the waters of the Reed sea. But nothing of any use. Although," he realised thoughtfully, "I guess the 'part the waters' stuff might come in pretty handy next time my basement floods "
"Zippo joyness here," Cordelia reported, throwing down her chosen text with a grimace. "These Egypt guys were just too weird for words. All this 'part man, part hippopotamus' stuff. And they were - like - *totally* obsessed with burying people. But I found this really neat text about eye make up, you know? So it hasn't been a total waste."
Buffy threw her an irritated look. It was never worth wasting energy on Cordelia, but she did wish that sometimes the girl could distinguish between the things that were desperately important and those that were vaguely important to *her*.
"Ooh, ooh " Willow exclaimed suddenly. "I think I got something. Listen: 'the tomb of Thuth Ut-imshep, high priest of Thoth, held many inscriptions concerning the activities within the temple. When we finally entered the central vault, it was to find that much of the work had been destroyed by smoke, since local farmers had been using the chambers as shelters against the coldness of the desert night ' Oh," she realised, looking crestfallen. "Not much help, guys. Sorry."
"Wait," Oz requested, moving to peer over his girlfriend's shoulder. "'Thuth Ut-imshep.' Wasn't there something about him in one of the grimoires we looked at earlier?"
"Try the 'Aurum Principali,'" Wesley offered abstractedly, his eyes fixed firmly on the papers in front of him. "*Damn.*"
"Problem?" Buffy asked worriedly, not liking the sound of such a heartfelt exclamation. Oz patted Willow's shoulder and headed back up into the stacks. The Watcher sighed, putting down his pen and reaching to run his hand across the back of his neck.
"Unfortunately, yes. I've managed to piece together the ritual, almost word for word - but the last few lines appear to be missing. By the look of it, Webber was still working on the final He may have completed the translation - but if he did, it isn't here."
"Damn," Xander echoed, acknowledging the frustration of that discovery - and possibly that of a whole wasted day, since without the final words the ritual wouldn't be of much use to anyone. Buffy, on the other hand, felt distinctly encouraged. She hadn't expected Wesley to get this far, this quickly.
"That's the only thing that's missing? The last couple of lines? You have everything else you need?"
"Well," he was reluctant to commit himself. "I *think* so. But the text is very uncertain in places. And getting this *exactly* right is crucial to the whole process. Besides - without the final lines, there isn't much point to the exercise. I might be able to bind Lilithu on a temporary basis - but with the influence of the Hellmouth, she'd only break free again." Wesley sighed a second time, looking decidedly disheartened. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I really thought we could pull this off."
"We can and we will," she said, bouncing to her feet with determination. "These missing line things - they're on the tablet, right?"
"Right."
"And you could read the tablet, now that you've got the rest of it figured out?"
"Well, *yes* but - "
"No buts," she told him firmly, pulling his jacket off the back of a chair and handing it to him. "The tablet's in the Museum, remember? Along with the staff, which we have to get anyway, so - "
He smiled. "- we just go to the Museum and finish everything there. Excellent thinking, Buffy. I must say, that hadn't occurred to me."
She grinned at him, refraining from pointing out that - not only would Giles have thought of it, he'd have probably insisted on heading straight to the Museum as soon as he realised that he didn't have the whole of the text in front of him.
"Got it " Oz's voice announced in triumph as he emerged from the stacks carrying one of Giles' biggest and most ponderous of tomes - the kind of book that lived on the floor because it was too heavy for a shelf. "There's a reference in here to Imshep - and something about empty vessels and recalling a lost heart I think. I'm kinda out when it comes to Medieval French," he explained apologetically.
"Let me see," Willow said, pushing away the books which she'd been working through. "I do good French. Well - goodish French. The olde-worlde stuff anyway. Giles is teaching me."
"Really?" Wesley looked surprised. Buffy looked relieved.
"Yay, Giles," Xander grinned, helping Oz settle the huge book on the table. "And yay, Will. Hidden depths, much?"
Willow coloured a little at the praise. "I thought it might be useful," she said. "And - hey." She waved at the book. "Usefulness."
"*Much* usefulness," Buffy agreed, blinking at the close text and all the curlicue letters it was written in.
"Whoa " She grabbed Wesley before he could lean in too closely. "Let's not mix language and rituals here, okay? *You* stay in Egypt mode. Will - go French."
"On it," her friend assured her, her smile dropping into a frown of concentration as she studied the intricate writing. "[From the mouth of Imshep, master of life in death - spells to waken those gone ahead, ways to speak to departed spirits ] No, no Wait - yes [a sacrament to recall one divided] This has got to be it. [Prayers to protect the returning heart to guide a wandering soul back to the vessel of its life ] " The young witch looked up with excitement. "Buffy, this is just what we were looking for. It's all the counterspell stuff. I think I can do this. I *know* I can do this. There's just a couple of things I'm going to need "