They'd reluctantly agreed to hand in their wands. Then they'd taken a seat at a table�and stayed there, frozen and staring up at the stage as singer after bad singer stepped up to the microphone.

"Merlin," Jexter commented, nearly whining.

"Fuck," Mason offered.

They were silent for a moment, then Jexter said, "I don't want to do it. You do it."

Mason rounded on him. "Me? You're the one that roped me into helping you in the first place, and it's your son that's the cause of all of this. I think you should do it."

Their gazes locked for a long moment. Jexter ground his teeth. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Fine."

"Fine."

They both turned back to the stage. After a moment, Jexter continued, "After this guy finishes."

They watched as the next demon situated itself in front of the microphone.

"I think that's a she, actually," remarked Mason.

The two wizards flipped through the books of song names and titles. "Oh, how about this one?" Mason suggested, pointing out one of them.

Jexter looked at the song title and then gave Mason an incredulous look. "What, don't tell me it's true that grim reapers are all gay?"

Mason only looked confused. "Huh?"

"Okay." Jexter said, taking several deep breaths. Up on stage, Lorne took the microphone from the last act and began to announce Jexter. "I'm going in."

"Good luck," Mason said, feeling very sympathetic for his cousin.

Jexter sat down at the table on shaky legs. "Oh, God," he said, burying his head in his hands. "I don't want to do that ever again. Please tell me I don't have to do that again."

Lorne appeared at their table and sat down. "You won't have to, sweet cheeks. I've got a pretty good idea where your boy is at."

Mason hastily took out his map, which was completely spell-free, and spread it out on the table. "Can you-?" he began, but the green-skinned demon was already pointing to a place on the map.

"He's set up shop in a crypt in Garrens' Burrow Cemetery. I'd be careful if I were you two, a lot of newly risen vampires can be found there."

Mason and Jexter smiled, relieved, before reality caught up with them again. "Thank you-" Mason began as he looked up at Lorne, only to pause. Lorne had the same look of apprehension from earlier. "Is there something else?" Mason inquired.

Lorne winced. "Hurry," he said. "Ethan's going to perform the next Rite of the ritual, and this one's gonna be a big one. I'd rather not have to face the chaos that'll be the result, you know?"

Mason and Jexter exchanged grim looks. "Yeah, we know," Jexter said quietly.

Garrens' Burrow Cemetery was in the middle of a residential neighborhood. Several tall oak trees and an iron fence formed a border around the plot of land, and the gravestones were all surrounded by healthy, green grass. The cemetery was also on a slight incline. From the center, one could turn around and look out at the city sprawled out beyond the cemetery's border. In a few weeks' time, Mason would discover that a young woman named Georgia Lass was buried there.

The cemetery was nearly deserted. The only beings to be found there were Mason, Jexter and the distorted, shifting outlines of at least four gravelings, who were all fast asleep and snoring, loudly.

Jexter and Mason were sprawled out on the ground behind a tomb. Ten feet beyond the tomb was the only crypt in the cemetery. Out of the corner of his eye, Mason watched the graveling sprawled out on top of the tomb, interested despite himself. He'd had no idea gravelings snored.

"Mace?" Jexter asked, trying to capture his cousin's wandering attention. He couldn't see the graveling at all and wondered what Mason was looking at.

Mason snapped his gaze back to him. "Hmm?"

Jexter waved at the crypt they could see just around the corner of the tomb. He held up his wand. "Ready?"

Mason glanced from the wand to the crypt and back again. "Exactly what are we going to do?"

He shrugged. "Stupefying him sounds like a good plan."

"And then what?"

Jexter sighed. "I don't know. Let's just concentrate on stopping the ritual, shall we?"

Mason studied him a moment, then nodded. "Alright." He took out his wand. "Ready."

Jexter closed his eyes a moment and took a deep breath. "Let's go."

They shot to their feet, startling the graveling, who squawked in protest. Mason ignored him as they ran to the crypt.

The door to the crypt was open. Jexter wasted no time in throwing the door open and rushing inside, Mason on his heels.

The crypt was small. It was no bigger than twelve feet across and twenty feet deep. A man sat in a lotus position at the center of the floor, bordered by a circle drawn in black charcoal. The book Mason assumed was The Most Gruesome of Dark Magicks lay open in his lap.

At the age of forty-four, Ethan, like his father, appeared older than Mason. His hair was smooth like his father's and a bald spot had cropped up on his scalp. He was thin and looked to be slightly malnourished, a stark contrast to the chubby little boy Mason remembered.

Ethan blinked up at them in surprise. "Oh, bugger-" His eyes widened as his gaze flicked back to Jexter. "Dad?"

"Hello, son," Jexter greeted him, voice cracking.

Ethan laughed. "I suppose you're here to chastise me, tell me how I've been such a bad boy."

Jexter's expression turned steely. "You have been a bad boy, Ethan. Stupefy!"

"Wait!" Mason said, eyes widening as he realized Jexter hadn't seen the circle.

The spell rebounded off of the shield created by the protective circle. It flew at and collided with Jexter before Mason could utter a counter-curse. Jexter collapsed, stunned.

Ethan got to his feet and threw a powder into the air.

Where before candles had lit the crypt, the room suddenly turned pitch black. The air was thick with the powder, making Mason cough.

He heard footsteps before he was shoved to the side. "Petrificus Totallus!" Mason called in the general direction of the fading footsteps. He heard and felt the spell leave his wand but even its light couldn't penetrate the strange darkness.

He heard the door being shoved open; the spell had missed its target. "Fuck!" Mason turned and gave chase, stumbling over his cousin's stupefied body and nearly falling flat on his face on his way out of the crypt.

He emerged into the graveyard. The powder-induced blackness hadn't penetrated outside the crypt, and moonlight and streetlights both cast long shadows on the grounds, just as they had earlier.

It took Mason a moment to spot Ethan's back. As he watched, Ethan passed through the cemetery gates and ran out onto the street beyond. Mason hurried after him. "Come back here, you cock-sucker!" he yelled.

Ethan glanced through the bars of the fence. Catching sight of Mason, he ran faster before disappearing beyond a clump of trees.

Mason ran out of the cemetery and onto the street. Once there, he ground to a halt. He raised his wand and a brilliant light shone out of its end. Its light glanced off the windows of the houses on the other side of the street. Shadows that provided perfect hiding places were now illuminated for all to see.

It was too quiet. Mason ran down the street, looking everywhere and listening intently. He reached an intersection and glanced down it in both directions, but Ethan was, of course, gone.

Mason let out a yell of frustration, then turned around and headed back to the crypt to un-stupefy his cousin.

He was halfway down the street when he heard something odd. Mason paused and listened. It sounded like something breaking or bursting free from its bindings. Puzzled, he turned left toward the sound, only to freeze and gape.

Five feet away from him was a sidewalk divided into small sections of concrete. As he watched, one of those sections burst into the air as if it had been kicked from beneath. The block rose two feet and flipped before falling back to the earth, breaking into many pieces on impact with the ground.

The block next to it flew up into the air, and as it hit the ground the next one in line followed suit. One by one, each block of concrete that made of the sidewalk burst into the air before falling back down again. A light turned on in one of the houses, its occupants awoken by the noise.

"Oh, God�" Mason prayed under his breath. He looked around for gravelings, for they were the cause of 'accidents'. He didn't see them anywhere. That meant only one thing, that the Second Rite of the Chaos Ritual had been completed before he and Jexter had entered the crypt. Order was being pushed out along with the rules that governed the world, including the rule that said that sidewalks weren't supposed to burst out of the ground spontaneously.

Mason dashed back into the cemetery and into the crypt. The powder had dissipated but the candles had been blown out, meaning his wand was the only source of light. Jexter still lay on the floor, stupefied.

Jexter shook out his limbs as he got to his feet. "Where's Ethan?"

"He's gone," the reaper replied, "but we've got bigger problems. Ethan completed the Second Rite."

Jexter stared at him. "What?" he exclaimed. He looked around at the candles, the protective circle and the book. Jexter reached into the broken circle and grabbed the book, then flipped through it quickly to the right page. "It says here that there are Five Rites to the ritual. The First Rite was to make an animal of the spellcaster's choice go nuts, in the hopes that the animal could cause as much havoc as possible."

"And the Second Rite�?" asked Mason.

Jexter turned a page. His eyes scanned the first few lines. "Fuck. The Second Rite works on inanimate objects, and can cause a lot more destruction."

"Kind-of figured that," Mason muttered. He glanced warily around at the tombs, half-expecting them to burst from their shelves in much the same manner as the sidewalk.

Just as he thought it, that was exactly what happened. Tombs shot out from the walls, startling them both. "Arresto Mementum!" Mason cried, pointing his wand at one tomb that almost ran into them.

They ran for the door, jumping over and under the flying tombs. Finally, they burst out of the crypt.

The gravelings were awake. Mason listened as they let out several angry and disgruntled squawks. Looking around, he saw why. Gravestones were overturned, broken, or not there at all. He knew the gravelings were upset because the destruction had occurred without them having a hand in it.

"Does the book say what we have to do to reverse this?" Mason asked. He caught sight of the fence and furrowed his brow. The bars and fence posts were bent bizarrely out of shape.

Jexter flipped through several pages. "Ah! Here, it says that in order to counter any of the rituals present in this book�we have to find a copy of the eleventh edition of The Most Magnificent of Light Magicks? Fucking-!"

Mason gave him a look. "You're joking. Tell me you're joking."

Jexter glared at him. "Does it look like I'm joking? Bullocks!" With a growl, he threw the book, hard, against the ground.

The reaper wanted to punch something. "Marvelous. Where, do you suppose, should we even look for something like that?"

It was a rhetorical question. Jexter didn't even pause in the litany of curses that flew from his lips to answer.

The effects spread out over the town like ripples in a pond. Cement cracked; streetlights acted strangely, some blinking wildly like a frenzied set of Christmas lights, and others all turned green and stayed there, causing several severe car accidents in scattered places about the city. In stores, employees were astounded when items refused to be arranged orderly on shelves; when shoppers tried to line up at the registers, several of them were alarmed when their shopping carts instead ran straight into tables and shelves. Flowers in planters rearranged themselves, switching from immaculately neat rows to zigzags and curves. Televisions stopped working; when one was switched on, the set would switch from channel to channel rapidly, and the volume would go up and down randomly. Phones, radios, and cars wouldn't work, either. They refused to do what they were supposed to do and, instead, did something else. One car, when it was started, proceeded to do a hip-hop dance number; another car, without needed to be started, chased down and ran over every person and animal in the neighborhood, then lay still. Furniture acted just as bizarre.

Twenty people were dead before dawn, but their reapers had yet to come to collect their souls. They had their own problems to deal with.

Daisy was awoken at 5:37 in the morning by her alarm clock. A glance at the electronic clock told her that the clock was broken, for the block letters were now disjointed and even crooked. Daisy groggily wondered why the numbers didn't look like numbers anymore before her eyes slid past the clock and she gasped in surprise. Every painting on the walls of her room, which were normally perfectly straight and spaced evenly from each other, were now crooked or threatening to fall.

George, upstairs, was taken out of sleep by noise her roommate, Daisy, was making downstairs. She groaned and rolled over in an attempt to reclaim sleep, only for her eyes to open wide. She bolted upright. The items in her room were in similar disarray.

Roxy, who had yet to go to bed, was drawn out of her apartment by a shrill scream. She hurried out into the hallway to find a woman staring, horrified, down the stairs at a man lying at its base. He'd lost his balance going down the now very disordered stairs.

Rube, who had fallen asleep reading in his chair, jerked awake when he heard a car skidding on the street outside, followed by a mighty crash. He reached for the closest pair of shoes on the floor, only to blink in astonishment as he realized that every set of his shoes, normally arranged in one long, neat row, were all scattered about the room; one was even hanging from the ceiling fan.

Jesse, the wizard reaper from Natural Causes, was washed out of his bed by a mighty tidal wave. The tidal wave had come sweeping out of Vance Hollyquick's portrait two minutes before.

As for Mason, he and Jexter spent a good deal of time stepping around, dodging, and jumping over various objects that had suddenly decided that order was boring and disorder was much more preferable. They were attempting to make their way to Pax Pacis; they'd had the best luck there the last time, and they hoped their luck would hold a second time and Lorne would be able to point them in the direction of the book they needed. If he couldn't help them, they'd move on to the bookstores, but Jexter doubted they'd have a copy; apparently, the volume was hard to come by. Getting to the bar, however, proved to be problematic, and it was confounded by the time spent stopping at each accident they happened upon.

Driven by a sense of responsibility Rube would be astounded to learn Mason possessed, Mason had called a halt to their walk each time he saw a dead body. He would then run a hand over the person or people in question. It didn't always work; reapers were assigned a specific allotment of souls, and not every person who died that morning was Mason's personal responsibility. He ended up collecting four souls and promptly sent them on their way.

It took them hours to get to Pax Pacis. They didn't dare Apparate when they had no idea what they'd Apparate into; it may not kill them, but it would waste their time. The bar was in shambles, unsurprisingly. Garbage, which had previously been contained in a group of trashcans in the corner, lay in splotches on the concrete before the entrance. The lights that had illuminated the stage were pointed in every direction now; some of them blinked, others dimmed in and out, and others weren't on. Tables and chairs had been thrown about the room, and the various bottles and glasses behind the bar were in odd places.

Lorne sat at the bar on the only righted stool, glass and bottle in hand. He glanced up when they entered. "Looks like someone came in and trashed the place, doesn't it?" he asked bitterly. "Wouldn't be the first time. First time it happened to this place, though." He drained his glass then swiveled to face them. "Guess you guys didn't get there in time, huh?"

"No," Mason replied.

"We're looking for something, the eleventh edition of The Most Magnificent of Light Magicks. Know where we should look?"

"Mm. That's some pretty powerful light magic. The only people I know who would know where to look for something like that is-"

"The Watcher's Council," Jexter finished. Lorne nodded. Jexter slammed a hand on the counter in frustration. "Fuck!"

Mason watched him, curious. "Exactly what is so bad about going to the Watcher's Council?" he asked him. He made a face. "What is the Watcher's Council?"

Lorne answered him, "They train and help the Slayers." Mason raised his eyebrows, uncomprehending. "The Slayers fight the forces of darkness. They're the good guys."

"Oh." Mason turned back to his cousin. "Didn't you say you helped them?"

Jexter rolled his eyes. "Yes, and I also said they didn't know I had a copy of The Most Gruesome of Dark Magicks. They might end up Slaying me if they found out." He ran a hand through his hair and slammed his fist against the counter again. He squeezed his eyes tight. "I'm going to kill him," he said, faintly.

Mason patted his back. "It's not your fault, Jex."

"Maybe." He took a deep, steadying breath. "I guess we'll have to contact the Council, then."

Mason slapped his back and turned back to Lorne, who'd watched the exchange. "Can we borrow your phone, by any chance?"

Lorne grimaced. "I'd let you, but there'd be no point. Your boy's spell has effected the phones, too."

"Damn!" Mason looked puzzled at his cousin. "What're we gonna do now? We don't have time to go to Cleveland ourselves."

Jexter looked unblinkingly at him for a long moment. "We owl them," he replied in an obvious tone.

Mason blinked, then smiled sheepishly. "Oh. Right." He looked outside and scowled. They'd have to go back out there if they wanted to get to the owlry.

As if on cue, they heard a horrible screech and crash, accompanied not long after by the sound of a store alarm, which belted out the chorus of Joe Diffie's 'John Deere Green'.

All three of them winced.

Mason bit his lip as he debated with himself for a long moment. "I have to do my job," he told Jexter.

Jexter looked about ready to protest, but kept his mouth shut and nodded instead. "I'll go to the owlry at Listrious Place. How about I meet you back at the hotel tonight?"

Mason grinned at him in gratitude for understanding. "I may be a little busy," he warned, "but if I've got the time, I'll be over there tonight."

Jexter nodded again. He turned to Lorne. "Thanks."

Lorne only shrugged, looking grim. "Don�t mention it. Just be careful. Both of you."

The wizards nodded before exiting the bar, leaving the battle-worn demon behind them.

Der Waffle Haus was closed for the first time in years. Rube took a seat on a cleared space of ground in front of the doors and waited for his reapers to arrive. Daisy, Roxy and George had all come and gone; now, all he had to wait for was Mason.

Mason thought he looked as bad as him. Mason felt exhausted; it wasn't surprising considering he'd been awake for twenty-six hours straight.

Rube got to his feet when he saw Mason. With a tired sigh, he pulled out his notebook and tore out a thick bundle of post-it notes. Mason whistled as he leafed through the thick stack. "I've already reaped some of these," he told Rube.

His boss nodded and sighed. "Before you ask, I have no clue what's going on." He waved helplessly around at the destruction. "I'm as clueless as everyone else."

Mason nodded. "I'm sure it won't last," he said.

He was trying to be reassuring, and instead he got suspicion. "Mason?" Rube questioned.

Mason hesitated. "Rube?"

Rube was glaring now. "Do you have anything to do with this?"

Oh, crap, Mason thought, staring at his boss' face. "No." He shook his head quickly. "Nothing at all."

This only served to piss him off more. "Bullshit."

Shit! "Um, Rube, er, I really should get to my assignments."

He turned to walk away, but Rube lay a hand on his shoulder and turned him back to face him. Rube was livid. His entire face was red. Mason gulped.

"What did you do?" Rube demanded, accentuating each word.

"Nothing!" the younger reaper repeated. He wondered if he could get away with another Obliviation Charm, assuming he could even reach his wand� He raised his hands in surrender. "I swear to you, I have nothing to do with this." Technically, it was true; he hadn't been the one to cast the ritual, Ethan had.

Rube studied him for a moment, then let go of his shoulder. He pointed a finger in Mason's face. "If I find out you do have something to do with this, I will personally ram all these concrete bits down your throat." He waved vaguely at the bits of concrete scattered about the ground.

With that, Rube turned and stalked away, assumedly off to collect his own souls. Mason watched him go and took a deep, shuttering breath. "Right, then."

Mason didn't make it to Barnub's Hotel that night or the next morning. The entirety of his time was spent collecting souls and sending them off to the hereafter, and Rube had a few more to give him the next morning. Thankfully, this stack was much thinner, as it would seem that the chaos had stopped spreading and the living were learning to be more cautious. Each post-it in this second stack were all early appointments, which meant he was done with them by noon.

By that time, he was so exhausted that he couldn't even walk straight. Mason collapsed in a tree-filled grove blessedly free of inanimate objects and promptly fell asleep, where he proceeded to sleep for five and a half wonderful hours.

He awoke when his stomach complained loudly, demanding to be fed. Feeling very cheerful now that he'd had some rest, Mason got to his feet and began the dangerous journey to Barnub's.

Once there, he was amazed to find that most of the hotel was back to its original condition. He quickly discerned the reason why; it would seem that wizard magic worked against and not with Wiccan magic. The Second Rite of the chaos ritual had caused some havoc in the hotel at first, but wand-laden hotel employees had quickly rectified that, casting spells upon spells to repair everything. They, too, were nearly exhausted, but most of the people around town were equally deprived of sleep, so that was nothing unusual.

Mason grabbed a bite to eat at the downstairs restaurant before heading up to the fifth floor. Jexter, he discovered, had gotten a full night's sleep and looked a lot better than he had when Mason had last seen him.

"You look like death warmed over," Jexter commented, taking in Mason's appearance. He frowned. "Er, I mean-"

Mason smiled and pushed past him into the room. He plopped down on the bed his cousin wasn't using and buried his head in the pillows. "Did you get to the owlry?" he asked, voice muffled.

"Yeah, yesterday," Jexter replied. "I haven't gotten a reply yet, though I expect one to arrive in the next few hours."

"Great. Wake me up when it gets here."

Part Five