Of course he’s a giant rooster. All that strutting had to come from somewhere.

Faith Lehane knows that her first thought in this situation shouldn’t be a joke. But as she pulls a blade from its hiding place on her person, she can’t help it, as she looks at the large chicken that was previously the teenage and creepy rock star Billy Rage.

Then it clucks at her.

She slices forward with her blade quickly, as Peggy is grabbed by her father, his anger gone now, a look of fear and dread on his features. Peggy is screaming and hasn’t stopped. Faith wishes she would. She swings her weapon now, not trying to hurt the creature, but rather force it to the other side of the room, allowing the people to escape.

Mai, her fellow DeepScan Slayer, comes running towards her, screaming in Faith’s direction. “Faith! What are you doing?”

Faith doesn’t answer her question, but is relieved to see someone else with superpowers as the chicken reaches out to her with his huge clawed hands. “Get the civilians out, Mai! I’ll handle Foghorn Leghorn.”

Guess we’re skipping the encore and going straight to the poultrygeist.

But her joke dies as Faith is caught by a fierce blow to the face, one that makes her teeth rattle. As she hits the floor with a loud thump, everyone still in the room gasps, including Mai, shocked by the severity of the blow. Anyone else would be dead.

Peggy is still screaming, behind her father now as he tries his best to keep the creature away from them, swinging a small folding chair as best he can in the demon’s path.

“Hey! Rude to split on a chick in mid smackdown.”

Much to even her own surprise, Faith has recovered, running on adrenaline now, and has propelled herself off the floor, high above the demon. Her blade gleams in the light of the room. She slams into Rage, knocking him to the ground.

As he lies helpless at her feet, still squawking loudly, Faith doesn’t stop raining down blows. “I don’t have a stockpile of good rooster-demon wisecracks. So I’ll just make with the hurt.”

“Faith!” Kennedy‘s voice screams her name loudly, and just as she turns, grabs her by her arm and pulls her away from Rage, her anger evident.

Landing with Kennedy almost on top of her, Faith looks at her boss, stunned. “Where the Hell’d you come from, Kennedy?”

Kennedy gets to her feet and doesn’t help Faith up. “I was nearby when Mai sent up a text flare. Care to explain yourself?”

Faith looks confused, pointing towards the demon who’s being watched now by armed security. “Me explain? How’s this? Lowlife rock star scams on underage girls. And by the way, he’s a demon.”

Kennedy barks back at her! “Of course he’s a demon! You think he’d be a DeepScan client and we wouldn’t know that?”

“Yeah, well…” Faith then hears Kennedy’s words back in her head.

Kennedy also does the same and they almost speak at the same time, staring at each other, watching the words.

“Wait. What?”

“Underage girls?”

Across the room, the security guards have lowered their weapons as the creature has reverted to a rather pissed and shirtless teenage rock star. He points at Faith with ferocious fury. “What the Hell man! Crazy overprotective daddy busts in here, waving a gun around, and when I try to protect myself, she goes all La Femme Nikita!”

Faith turns to him now, as Kennedy walks towards their client, trying to calm him. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“Faith, please.” Kennedy snaps the order so quickly, Faith feels whiplashed. “Mr. Rage, if we can all just ease off, I’m sure we can figure out…”

But the singer hasn’t even heard what Kennedy has said, not fully. He’s raised his voice even more now, pointing his finger directly at Faith, screaming wildly. “Too late for that, sugar! If little missy wants a joke, then here’s the punch line. You’re fired. I want you pistol-packing DeepScan mamas out of here. Now.”

Faith waves her hand at him. She doesn’t care at all. “Good riddance if you ask me. Maybe next time…”

Kennedy again snaps at her, even quicker than before. “I didn’t ask you.”

But this time, Faith is quick off the mark. She wants answers and she can feel that familiar temper creeping from her stomach and her guts and further up, stretching from her body to her mouth. She holds it there, willing the rage to stay where it is and not move to her hands. “Is that really the sort of client you want?”

Kennedy calms slightly. She’s watching Faith from the corner of her eye, like a hawk. “We’re not doing this here. We’ll debrief back at H.Q. And we’ll go over, in detail, how you messed up.”

As Kennedy moves back to gather DeepScan equipment and direct Mai with further instructions, Faith looks at her. Another feeling of mistakes made creeps over her, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand. This was not the right gig.

In London, in Nadira’s sanctuary, Angel slowly enters the back room to find Nadira. He creeps towards the door, not wanting to disturb, but glimpses inside when he hears her whispering again. Peering inside, she’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, meditating, Angel thinks. But the way she’s talking, it’s clear she’s communing with someone. Or something.

“He has to hit his head against the wall to see himself. Maybe… Oh, Angel, we were just talking about you.”

Angel hadn’t noticed that his presence had been revealed. This takes him by surprise, slightly. “We?”

She doesn’t ask about the search for Corky, but she clearly already knows. “Sorry your Pixie hunt was a bust. Did you have a nice chat with Inspector Brandt?”

Angel wants more answers than he seems to be getting. “You’re not having me followed, are you?”

Nadira hasn’t even turned to look up at him. As he moves in front of her, it’s only now that Nadira opens her eyes, one pupil human and normal, the other a glowing green, like a cat’s. “I don’t need to have you followed. Angel, you’re like a hole of blackness that all the colours swirl around and disappear into. I couldn’t look away from you if I tried.”

Angel asks a question, only slightly joking. “Is that why everyone sees me coming? Every time I think I’m about to get the drop on Corky, he seems a step ahead. I’m getting tired of being on the short end.”

“Then why not start trying it my way?” That sweet musical voice. She’s looking at him now.

“I’m trying to catch a Pixie. And it’s not as cute as it sounds. You want me to do something else. Am I supposed to forget about Corky?”

Nadira closes her eyes again for a moment. “Sometimes a crooked path gets you home faster. You need to listen to me if this is going to work.”

Angel looks at her now, puzzled. “If what’s going to work?” And then Nadira holds her hand to her temple again, just as she did before. She turns away from Angel, as if there’s someone whispering behind her. And then she starts whispering again.

“How to make him understand? If he could see with my… yes, if he could touch it, feel it flow… To know what’s happening now all around us…” She stops now and smiles, turning to face him. “Magic Town is a place of joining. A place where things come together. Like where the river meets the sea. Yes, that’s a good way to put it I think.”

She puts her hands together, human and magic combined into one, the green tendrils hauntingly beautiful. Angel’s only just noticed how bright they are.

“Fresh water mixes with salt water. Brackish they call it, and it’s neither river nor ocean. Right now, even as we speak, Magic Town is deciding what it’s going to be. We need to nudge it in the right direction.”

Angel is silent for a moment. Finally, he relents. “So… the Glass Blower?”

This time Nadira doesn’t say anything, but she has a look in her eyes. Angel knows what it means. She has the answers, probably. But she’s not going to reveal them yet.

Soon he’s back outside. The moon is full in the night sky and Angel can hear the normal sounds of London. The night buses, the trains, the barges going down the Thames. Somewhere there’s a party happening and he can hear laughter. Big Ben chimes in the distance. The closer he gets into the darkest parts of Magic Town however, the quieter and more unnerving it becomes. His thoughts start up quickly, anything for Angel to ignore the deafening silence.

Not going to lie. I’m not optimistic as I hit the streets again. Nadira’s errand has wild goose chase written all over it.

Maybe I’m the crazy one.

But when something like this happens, like a lock opening, you can almost hear the click.

Well, there’s the old glassworks on the North edge of Magic Town. I guess that could be a good place to start.

I’ve been paddling against the current the whole time, but now I’ve turned around and it’s all flowing easier. Maybe there’s method to Nadira’s madness.

All I know is that it feels like I’m finally making headway.

Angel travels along the old London routes, the way industry was born in the 19th century. The old glass works are soon before him, an old dilapidated warehouse, all that remains of the once proud Ajax Glassworks.

He finds a local man, on his way home from work after a long day, who seems more than happy to answer Angel’s questions about the boarded up place. “Used to employ a lot of folks back in the day. Now it’s just the owner, although nobody’s seen him since, well, you know, the trouble.”

He points in the direction of the building though, something new in his voice. It’s fear. Angel can smell it. “But there’s odd sounds and peculiar odours coming out of there at all hours, I can tell you. Anyway, you wanted a Glass Blower, and old Rutger’s the only one I know around here.”

Angel approaches the main entrance and looks around. He turns to talk to his guide. “Thanks. You’ve been a lot of help.”

But his aid is already half way down the lane, and Angel hears him yelling back to him as he runs. “Don’t thank me, lad. Not until you see what’s in there.”

Across the Atlantic Ocean, Faith’s latest shooting range session is in full swing. This time, she sees Kennedy coming out of the corner of her eye when she tries to sneak in. “Still practicing, I see. Getting any better?”

Faith doesn’t take her eyes off the target to answer her. She just continues to fire. “Nope.”

As Faith finishes her round, she wishes there was more in the weapon. She doesn’t want to have this conversation, but she obviously has no choice.

Kennedy looks at the gun as she places it down. “Is that why you didn’t draw your pistol before? Because you’re bad with it?”

Faith shakes her head, but still doesn’t look at her boss. “I just went with what was familiar, I guess.”

“A comfort zone can be good or bad. If it’s because you’re nervous about new things…”

Faith finds the courage now, interrupts Kennedy, reasserts herself as the experienced Slayer in the room.

Then, finally, she turns to Kennedy. “I know I screwed up. Billy Rage, Casanova demon, feeds on the adoration of young women, trapped here when the magic faucet went dry. If I’d read the file the day before I’d have known.” She extends her hand to Kennedy, to pass the pistol to her.

As Kennedy takes the weapon, she looks at Faith directly. “Look, I expect people to show initiative. But you attacked the client.”

Faith is non-plussed by that part. “Rooster likes his hens a little too young. So yeah, I reacted. I suppose this is where you tell me all about DeepScan’s amazing severance package.”

“I’m not going to fire you, Faith,” Kennedy says, placing the safety on the weapon. “But do you really think I condone Billy Rage taking advantage of minors?”

She heads towards the door now, her question hanging in the air. “This isn’t the save-the-world gig you’re used to. It’s a real business, in the real world. Sometimes we make compromises. That place was supposed to card patrons at the door. I don’t like it, but I can’t do everyone’s job for them.”

Now, Kennedy stops at the door, her tone quiet and calm.

“DeepScan lost a client today. You lost him. Fact is, Buffy had trouble fitting in at first too. Totally blew a training exercise. But when it came to the real thing, she produced big time. Think on it, Faith. Think about what you want.”

And with that Faith is left alone, sighing to the air. She checks her target once it rolls around. She’s hit everywhere except the centre. Deliberately. She has a lot of thinking to do.

Angel can feel something dark and strange as soon as he walks into the abandoned factory. He smells the room, not sensing anything recognisable, but is cautious as he heads deeper inside. It’s then that he hears a voice. A voice of power, echoing around the vampire. It’s clearly not human.

WHO DARES ENTER THE LAIR OF THE GLASS BLOWER?

“I’m looking for a man named Rutger.”

THERE IS NO RUTGER. THERE IS NO MAN. NOT ANYMORE. THERE IS ONLY THE GLASS BLOWER.

“I still need to talk to you. There are things going on in Magic Town. Someone said you might have answers.”

THERE ARE NO ANSWERS BECAUSE THE GLASS BLOWER ANSWERS TO NO ONE.

THIS PLACE ONCE TEEMED WITH INDUSTRY. NOW THERE IS ONLY ME.

IF YOU’VE COME TO BLUNT MY PURPOSE, THEN YOU’VE COME AT YOUR PERIL.

I AM THE GLASS BLOWER. WHERE ONCE I WAS OBSOLETE, NOW I HAVE PURPOSE.

IN MY TRANSFORMATION I HAVE FOUND SALVATION. I HAVE DISCOVERED A REASON FOR BEING. I AM UNPARALLELED IN MY CRAFT. AN ARTIST.

WHO ARE YOU TO OPPOSE THIS? INSIGNIFICANT GNAT. WHO DARES COME BETWEEN THE ARTISAN AND HIS CREATIONS?

The creature reveals itself now. It’s a blob of hot goo, or at least that’s what it resembles. Like someone took the molten core of the glass when it’s red hot and possessed it. It flows around like liquid, and finally, grasps Angel in one of his tentacles.

“What creations are you talking about?”

In answer to the vampire’s question, the large blob reaches into a bright light inside itself, quite possibly it’s mouth, Angel thinks, as he’s brought closer to it. He’s more than a little relieved when a tentacle reaches inside the maw and brings forth a small glass jar. It’s beautifully made, rendered with a lovely smooth, crystal gold finish.

BEHOLD.

THE PIXIES WANT JARS, AND I’VE BLOWN GLASS FOR THEM LIKE NO OTHER ON EARTH. I HAVE ACHIEVED PERFECTION.

“But why work for Corky? What’s in it for you?”

I WORK FOR NO ONE. THE PIXIES OFFERED ME A CHALLENGE AND IT PLEASED ME TO ACCEPT. THE JARS ARE FLAWLESS. THE MATRIX PERFECT.

“What matrix?”

THE STRUCTURE OF THE GLASS. IT CONTAINS THE MAGIC. AND NOW, MY FRIEND, IT’S TIME FOR YOU TO GO.

Now without any warning, it swings the tentacle holding Angel, throwing him at a large glass window. He goes shattering through it, flying through the air, helpless to slow his descent to the hard concrete below.

As soon as he walks into Nadira’s Sanctuary, the Slayer speaks to him, without even looking at his shredded attire. “You’ve looked better, Angel. I see your conversation with the Glass Blower went well.”

Even though she’s being serious, Angel doesn’t like her tone. “It would have been nice to know ahead of time I was going to see an enormous, self-aggrandising beach ball.”

Nadira, once again, doesn’t look back. “I didn’t know.”

Angel looks at her, slight anger in his voice, impatient now at his continuing search for the Pixies. “Sometimes you know and sometimes you don’t. Makes it hard to get the confidence thing going.”

Nadira finally looks at him now, a smile on her face. She doesn’t even seem to notice his annoyance. “I don’t know these things in a way you can understand. I’m not even sure I do. Trust me. It’ll all work out.”

“Exactly what is it you think is working out? Where to find Corky and…”

Nadira interrupts him, her glance going to the door, even though it hasn’t been knocked or opened. “Oh… We have a visitor.”

Everyone in the sanctuary then turns at the sound of the door opening. Only Angel is surprised – everyone else seems to believe Nadira’s instincts.

A young woman is at the door. She has snake-like tendrils instead of hair and her skin is a slightly pale lime colour. But when she speaks, it’s with a regular East End accent. A perfectly normal girl if not for the Magic Town explosion.

“Hello? My name’s Tricia,” she says, quietly and clearly full of nerves. “Uh… a bunch of people were chasing me. Because I look like this now, I guess. I was afraid. I heard… I was told maybe this was a place I could be safe.”

Before she can finish her sentence, Kent and Parker and several others have raced up to her. Some carry blankets, some carry hot mugs. All greet her with a smile and a warm welcome.

Nadira turns to Angel, hope in her eyes, satisfaction on her face. “See? It works out. The trick is letting go of the illusion you have control. You have to recognise there is a flow to things.”

Angel still needs more convincing. “Do you think you’re reassuring me? You’re not.”

Nadira doesn’t try to explain any more. She even starts to push him in the direction of the door. Angel turns to her, confused. “You’ll learn. Anyway, it’s time for you to go see Inspector Brandt, so off with you.”

“Inspector Brandt? Why? No, let me guess. I’m not suppose to ask why.”

She walks him through the door and in the direction he needs to go. She doesn’t answer his question to his face, but waits until he’s out of earshot to answer.

“You can ask… But I wouldn’t hold my breath for answers.”

At DeepScan HQ, Faith is in the locker room. She’s feeling clean again, having felt grimy since her encounter with Billy “The Rooster” Rage. She can’t even bring herself to laugh at the absurdity of the moment, her thoughts going around and around in her head.

When she hears others approaching, rather than face a discussion, Faith ducks out of sight, listening as Mai and a few others walk in. Unsurprising to Faith, she’s the number one topic of conversation. They ask Mai for details of the failed mission, but she refuses. However, the women tease more out of her, as Faith catches it all.

“She didn’t choke. She just didn’t do her homework.”

“Yeah?”

“It was almost like she felt she didn’t have to do her homework.

As their conversation continues, Mai is of the opinion that Faith is having issues because of her experience as a solo operative. She’s not used to playing in teams and doesn’t play well with others.

Faith takes in every word from her hiding place. She considers them carefully and a grin forms on her face. She’s made a decision.

In London, down another dimly lit alley way, Angel has come to meet Inspector Brandt, even though he has no idea why. “Thanks for meeting me, Brandt.”

To his credit, the cop foresaw Angel’s call. “I figured you might want my help eventually. Just not so soon. What can I do for you?”

Angel stops walking for a moment and looks at the detective. “You know, I have absolutely no idea.”

The grin on his face before he speaks, gives Brandt away. “Ah. Nadira.”

“So you’ve met her.”

“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. But you don’t go long in Magic Town without hearing about the crazy, guru, messiah lady. If you ask me…”

Suddenly Angel stops. He sees something in an alley way across the road. Something that triggers something in his memory. “Wait. What’s that?”

He looks closely, and sees a deal being made. Probably a drugs deal, but Angel realises that he’s never seen drugs in Magic Town, at least not since the explosion. And he’s seen those dealers before. He starts to move, faster and faster.

And then I realise I’m seeing something that I’ve seen before, something that’s been right under my nose all along.

Angel shouts his gratitude to Brandt as he leaves him standing in the alley way, completely confused. “Thanks? I didn’t bloody do anything!”

Angel sees the young boys now and curses himself under his breath. It really was right there in front of him. In the box the boys are carrying…

If I hadn’t come to see Brandt, I wouldn’t have spotted them. I thought Nadira had some special access to Magic Town’s secrets, but it’s more than that.

If she can arrange a coincidence just so I can glimpse kids loading a crate with bottles… well what else can she do?

I remember what Nadira said. It works out. She says all I have to do is let go of the notion I have control. But then who’s pulling the strings?

He follows the boys until they enter another abandoned warehouse. Angel walks cautiously inside, not knowing what to expect. “Hello?”

He’s not expecting to find a large group of teenagers, some with crates in their arms, some without. Some have familiar looking bottles in their hands. One of them points at him, demands to know who he is!

A familiar Irish voice causes Angel to grit his teeth. “That’s Angel, lad. And he keeps turning up like a bad penny. Fortunately, we have a remedy for that.”

He turns to Angel and the vampire moves, too late to see that Corky turning was a distraction. “You made short work of my Tommy, so I had to step up my game a bit.”

As he speaks, a green blast of energy hits Angel and he screams out in surprise and pain.

“I think you’ll find me new muscle more of a challenge. Best thing is, she agreed to work for free once she found out who my problem was.”

As Angel tries to get up off the ground, he struggles to shake off the pain. He’s also keenly aware that he’s felt the same pain before, but never to this extent. He realises he can’t stand up, but is pulled when someone grips him by the hair..

Angel refocuses his eyes in the harsh, blinding green light to see a fist, clearly ready to punch him. “Up and at them, Angel. You haven’t forgotten about little Pearl have you?”

Now he recognises the demon. Clearly more deranged now than ever, Pearl chuckles with glee and delight at Angel’s weakened form. “Because I certainly haven’t forgotten you.”