"And the five shall be a sacrifice... and the one who is dead shall live..."

While Angel battled Vocah, Lindsey McDonald had picked up the chant, continuing the ritual of raising.

"Even as life and death are not two things but one... in darkness is the light, in light is the darkness. Arise! Arise! Arise! Arise! Arise! Arise!"

Angel ignored the ritual, even when it culminated in a flash of light and a whirlwind that threw Lindsey McDonald against the wall. He was focused, with single-minded concentration, on fighting Vocah, who had butchered the oracles, who had marked Cordelia and stolen the scroll.

Nothing else mattered.

The room behind him emptied, except for Lindsey, who was slowly picking himself up off the floor. Angel paid no attention, as he fought on.

Finally Vocah fell, defeated. Angel turned to look for the scroll, and found that Lindsey McDonald had it clenched in his hand.

"Lindsey, give me the scroll," Angel warned, advancing toward him.

Lindsey refused."That's not gonna happen. It belongs to us."

Angel moved closer.

To Angel's surprise, Lindsey seemed unafraid, or at least he was hiding his fear well. Maybe he simply didn't believe that Angel would harm a human.

The young lawyer still had a lot to learn.

"I see that what happened here tonight was foretold. That doesn't bode well for you," Lindsey sneered. "I see that you are either the one with the power, or you're powerless."

"Uh-huh. You see what I'm gonna do to you if you don't give me that scroll?"

Defiantly, Lindsey moved toward an open flame still burning in a nearby urn.

"You need the words of Anatole to cure your friend. She is your connection to the Powers That Be. And since it's foretold that we sever all your connections, well..."

Lindsey held the scroll over the flame. As Angel moved swiftly toward him, the edge of the scroll touched the flame, and began to burn.

There are nightmares, and then there are really gross nightmares. This went beyond gross and into seriously disgusting.

Cordelia blinked with disbelief. What in the world was she doing hanging in chains from a wall, without a stitch of clothing? And who was the vaguely familiar woman who was standing in front of her, laughing and clapping her hands?

“What's going on here?” she demanded. “Let me go immediately!”

“Not quite yet. We're not finished with the game yet.”

“What are you talking about? What game? I'm not into this kinky kind of stuff.... uh... am I? And who are you? Don't I know you?”

“Of course you know me.” The other woman giggled. “I'm your sister, silly.”

“My sister?” Cordelia shook her head as though that would clear the confusion in her mind, but it didn't. “I don't think so. I don't think I have a sister.”

“Oh, yes. If you look inside yourself, you will see that we are sisters true.”

“I don't know about that, but if you really are my sister, then get me down from here!”

“You don't understand. Don't you know who you are?”

“Well, of course I - ah - actually, no.”

“You are Inanna, the queen of heaven and earth, and I am your sister, Ereshkigal, the queen of hell. Don't you remember?”

“No. I don't remember anything like that. If this is a game, I think I'd like to stop playing now, because my arms are starting to hurt. And who's that?” Unable to do much with her hands, which were securely chained to the wall, Cordelia made a gesture with her chin toward the man in the prism.

“Don't you recognize your own beloved? That is your consort, Dumuzi. You have come here to the land of the dead to win him back from me.”

“Beloved?” Cordelia murmured. That didn't sound right to her, either.

She didn't have a “beloved” – or at least, she didn't remember one.

Of course, if she and this strange woman were playing kinky games with chains and nakedness, at least that meant the guy staring at her wasn't a stranger.

She stared at the man trapped in the column of crystal, and tried to remember him. There was something vaguely familiar about him, as there was about the woman who spoke to her, but she couldn't come up with anything more.

Why couldn't she remember? And why was he looking at her with such pain in his face, his mouth moving silently, looking like he was about to cry?

If he were truly her beloved, or if this woman were truly her sister, wouldn't she remember?

Wouldn't she remember being a queen? And if the three of them were playing a game, why wasn't the man in the crystal prism laughing?

The man was trying to speak to her. She couldn't hear anything, but she could see him shaking his head frantically. He was very pale, his face looking strained and anguished, and as she watched, she could see him trying to blink back tears, as he was trying to tell her something.

If only she could figure out what it was….

“Now, dear sister Inanna,” said the woman who had identified herself as Ereshkigal, “You have come to my realm to retrieve this man. What do you offer me in return for his life?”

“I don't know. If I am a queen, I must have lots of fame and fortune, right?”

“That, dear sister, you have already given.”

“Fame and fortune, already given. Check. Huh? I did that?”

“Yes, Inanna. You have already surrendered to me your crown, all the trappings of your wealth and power, even down to your clothing itself, everything that you own, everything that you are. But it is still not enough.”

“I don't get it.”

Drusilla smiled, holding up a small, glowing vial in her hand. “You want to win this from me. The Water of Life. This is what you need to restore your beloved. Do you begin to remember now, Inanna?”

That sounded almost right, but not quite. Cordelia tried frantically to remember. Why couldn't she remember?

“What am I supposed to do?”

“It's really very simple.” Drusilla was swaying slightly back and forth as she spoke. “You have already given all that you have to give, except your life. Now you must give that, as well.”

“Why?”

“Well, because that's the price you have to pay for what you want, of course. The price of a life. If you want to give the Water of Life to your beloved, to restore him to the world of the living, you must give your own life in return.”

“What if I don't?”

“Then all shall be as it was when you came to this realm.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“That is for you to decide.”

“How can I decide when I don't remember anything? And wouldn't it help if you got me down from the wall and let me put some clothes on?”

“No. This is how it must be. You are down to your final choice. Now is the time, Inanna.”

“Are you sure that's really my name? Because it doesn't sound right.”

Drusilla shrugged and smiled. “You have come here to bargain with me for one you lost. But you have nothing left to offer, nothing left to give, but your life itself.”

Cordelia looked again at the man caught in the prism. His face was streaked with tears, and he was still trying to speak to her, but she still could not hear a word he said.

“He's crying,” she said softly, wondering. “Is he crying for me?”

“Why, yes. He weeps for you, as once you wept for him.”

“Really? I did? He does?”

“Yes. That is true.”

Cordelia stared. “I don't know him, but … somehow I do. I don't understand it, but…. You said his name is, what?”

“Dumuzi.”

“That's not exactly right, either, but…. You said he is my beloved. Why don't I remember him, then?”

“He remembers you,” Drusilla said softly. “He loves you.”

“I think … maybe he does,” Cordelia whispered, gazing at him. She watched him struggling with his tears, watched him trying so hard to speak to her, and suddenly something began to make sense.

“None of the rest of this is real, is it?” she said abruptly. “Me, being a queen, hanging here in chains…. You, being my sister. None of that is real, but that one part is real, isn't it? That one part is true.”

“Say it. What part is real? What part is true?”

“He loves me,” she whispered. “That's the part that is true. That's the only part that matters.”

“If it does,” Drusilla reminded her, “The Water of Life is here. All that you have to do to win it for him, to give him life again, is….”

“Is what?”

“Agree … to die.”

“For a man I don't remember….”

Cordelia's eyes met Doyle's. He was shaking his head frantically, mouthing at her, “No. No.” That much she was able to see, even though she couldn't make out the rest.

“He doesn't want me to do it.”

“He wants you to live.”

“Even if that means he can't?”

“Even if that means he can't, yes.”

“That's so … that's unbelievable.”

“It is true.”

“What do I have to do?”

Drusilla held up the Water of Life again. “All you have to do is say that you agree to die for him. Just say that you are willing to die, so that he may live. I'll do the rest.”

Cordelia hesitated, looking again at the face of the prisoner. He was still mouthing “No, no” at her, and somehow, she knew that the fear and love in his expression was real.

If there was nothing else in this game that was actually real, there was that.

She couldn't remember anything, but somehow she felt certain that no one else had ever loved her quite that much before.

In a world in which she did not know her own name, that would have to be enough.

He loved her....

Whoever she was.

“I'll do it.”

...

The edge of the scroll began to blacken in the flame.