Resurrecting Ravana Read Online Free PDF Page B

Cordelia would be coming to her for help in preparing for the tests, too. Buffy — who usually panicked in the face of important tests — had gained some confidence after her high SAT scores, but she still was no ace student and normally would be asking Willow for study tips, or even asking to study with her. Instead, Oz was studying with Xander, Cordelia was preparing for the exams alone, and Willow had no idea what Buffy was doing.
    It wasn’t just the studying, though. It felt as though they hardly even talked to her anymore. The only time she seemed to have any interaction with her friends at all was when some evil raised its ugly head — like the hellhounds on wheels — and they needed her to dig something up on the Internet or work on a potion or spell. Outside of that, they seemed to be unaware she existed. Like Giles, they were always too busy or preoccupied to talk or do anything after school. Even Oz, her boyfriend, seemed distant when they were together, as if his mind were somewhere else, or there were other things he’d rather be doing.
    It had happened gradually over the last week and seemed to get worse . . . a noticeable coldness among her and her friends, and an even chillier one between her and Buffy. Willow wanted to talk to them about it, but what good would that do if they didn’t hear her, or didn’t have time to listen? While she sensed no malice from most of her friends, Willow wasn’t sure what she sensed from Buffy. Sometimes — and she hated even thinking about it — she felt afraid of Buffy. And she had no idea why.
    On top of all that, she’d been immersing herself in learning as much as possible about magic. Wondering if perhaps things might go back to normal with her friends if she made herself useful, Willow had decided to speed up her education in the magic arts, all on her own, and see if it made a difference.
    The recent distance that had grown between Willow and her friends had been bothering her so much, she’d been having recurring nightmares about it. She thought the nightmares were about that, anyway. She couldn’t remember the details, but she awoke from each one with an odd mixture of feelings: she felt upset, as if she’d just seen something horrible and infuriating, and at the same time, she felt strangely satisfied, as if something, some outside force, had suddenly and seamlessly solved her problem. She’d had a difficult time getting back to sleep afterward, and she hoped the nightmare, whatever it was, didn’t recur.
    Willow pulled her eyes from the screen and slumped in her chair with her head down, releasing a long sigh when she heard light footsteps. She lifted her head to see Giles walking from the back of the library toward the front desk. She got up and hurried over to the desk. She reached it seconds before Giles and was smiling when he arrived.
    “Hello, Giles,” she said.
    “Good afternoon, Willow.” He went behind the desk and began sorting through a stack of books, making two more stacks as he separated them. Occasionally, he stopped to look at a spine and murmur to himself.
    “Um, Giles . . . do you think we could, um . . . maybe talk?”
    He said nothing for a moment, focused on the books. Then he started and turned to her. “I’m sorry, Willow. Did you say something?”
    Before Willow could repeat the question, Buffy burst into the library and ran to the front desk, stumbling to a stop. Her blond hair was windblown and she carried about her some of the fresh air from outside. She was out of breath and her eyes were wide beneath a frown.
    “You have a radio in here, right, Giles?” she asked, speaking so fast that it sounded almost like one big, long word.
    “Is something wrong, Buffy?” Giles asked. He looked very concerned as he turned away from the books, his task forgotten.
    “The radio, can you get it? It’s important.”
    “Well . . .” Giles went into his office and returned a moment later with what looked like a battered old