Darkened Faerie Tale

By Lucinda

Prologue

Dawn rubbed at her cast, her eyes glittering with fury. This was all because of Willow. No, not quite, Amy had helped. Not with the car wreck, but with getting Willow into the state of mind that had created it. So, her broken arm was all the fault of Willow and Amy. She was quite certain that this was horrible, incredibly unfair, and her arm hurt. What made it worse was that this sort of thing could happen again.

She definitely didn't want anything like this to occur again. Ever. But how could she stop it? She couldn't make it so they would never drive again, couldn't even prevent them from working magic or seeing that despicable Rack. How could she prevent something like this from happening again when there was nothing that she could do?

Dawn sighed, flipping through the channels on the television. Not only did her arm hurt, there was nothing that she wanted to watch. Suddenly, a channel caught her attention. Going back, she smiled at the Henson puppets, and realized that it was the movie Labyrinth. If only she could wish Willow and Amy away. Wait a minute... if Dracula was real, and Hansel and Gretel had been real, maybe this was real? Maybe she could wish them away to the Goblin Kingdom. Where they could never cause problems for her again.

She paused for a moment, considering. Did she really want to do this? Could she banish them away forever? Her arm throbbed again. Yes, she could.

"I wish the Goblins would take Amy and Willow away. Right now." Her voice didn't even tremble, although a tear slid down her face, one of pain, rage, and a sickening sense of betrayal.

She felt the wind more inside than on her skin, dancing and twirling it's way through the room, leaving a fine dusting of pale glitter and a single pale feather that slowly drifted down onto the floor at her feet. There was no sudden storm, no dramatic appearance of someone that looked like David Bowie. Just the wind, the glitter, and the feather. And the certain knowledge that she had really done it, really wished them gone.

Her hand felt cold as she reached down, lifting the feather carefully. It shimmered, almost iridescent and gleaming. The feather was not the sort of thing that belonged in a mundane living room, the place where people did homework and watched television. Carefully, she took the feather to her room, and closed it into a box, along with a few dried roses. Closing the box, Dawn decided that she didn't want to think anymore about this.

Part 1

Willow had been unprepared for the whirlwind that appeared in her bedroom, practically glowing with magic, sucking in both her and Amy. It had felt like she was tested, poked and tugged at, or perhaps that had just been the forces of the wind. But the mystical wind that had seized them faded, dropping them in what looked like an open courtyard, half sprawled over pale brown bricks, the sky an odd orangish color. Definitely not in Sunnydale anymore...

Amy had been making a little whimpering noise in the back of her throat, her eyes wide and rimmed with pale, rolling as she tried to look around at everything, scrabbling to a semi crouched position. Her fingers had clawed over the bricks, causing a dry scraping noise that sent chills up their backs.

Willow remained where she was, part of her mind trying to determine if anything had been broken by the sudden landing. Everything felt bruised, inside and out. The whole place felt... different, off balance from everything that she knew. The sky was the wrong color, the air smelled different, and she could feel magic humming in the environment. Even the magic felt different, not the same shadowed and twisted magic that she was used to. This magic felt somehow older, and less... well, less tamed, almost wild. She was afraid to try to tap it.

"It seems that the two of you will be staying for a while. Welcome to my Labyrinth. I hope you're ready to try to find the middle." The voice sounded like the wind and thunder and a man's voice all rolled into one, powerful and inhuman, almost bored.

"umm... Labyrinth? What happens to us if we go into it?" Willow felt like frowning, certain the idea sounded familiar, trying to remember from where.

Amy was spinning around, trying to spot the source of the voice. Her voice had an almost shrill edge to it, wild with fear and confusion. "What happens to us in the Labyrinth? It doesn't feel safe."

The voice spoke again, sounding amused. "It isn't safe. Perhaps you'll die inside, perhaps you won't. If you make it to the castle, I'll give you new lives. If you don't make it... the only way out of my kingdom is from the castle."

Willow's body went tense, and she slowly raised herself from her prone sprawl to a wobbly kneeling position. "So, we have the option of staying in this courtyard until we starve, or facing uncertain surroundings and unknown perils inside the labyrinth to win the possibility of maybe going home or maybe staying here forever. Is there an option number three?"

"Not for you." The voice definitely sounded mocking.

Amy made a little squeaking noise, spinning around, her breathing fast and shallow. "I don't want to be here. This is a bad place."

Willow tried to reach out, to offer a bit of comfort to Amy. Granted, she couldn't offer much more than the fact that neither of them were alone in this. But Amy bolted, running into a corridor that moved in the same direction as their shadows, fleeing from the voice. Her heart pounding, Willow turned to look at the speaker.

He stood there, dressed in silver grey and white, the fabrics looking almost but not quite like silk and velvet, clinging to his lean body. He was shaped like a human, but the planes of his face were a bit off, his cheekbones too sharp, his eyes a bit too large and widely spaced to be human, and one was a pale blue, while the other was dark as shadow, as dark as the magic that she'd felt at Rack's place. He wasn't human, wasn't mortal, and that showed in his posture, in the casual arrogance that radiated from him. The fact that he was juggling what looked to be soap bubbles of crystal spheres in one hand and radiated power on a scale unlike anything but Glory screamed 'not human' and his eyes, his smile said 'predator'.

"Who... what are you?" The whisper emerged from her lips before she could stop herself.

"I am Jareth, the Goblin King. You might want to try calling me 'Your Majesty'. After all, you and your friend are probably going to become my newest subjects." With a mocking smile, he tossed one sphere to the ground, producing a flurry of sparkles, shimmering lights, and a noise almost like distant trumpets.

When her vision cleared, she was standing in a grassy courtyard, neatly clipped hedges on all sides, forming what looked to be a classical garden maze. She had the feeling that even if it was as simple to navigate as a normal hedge maze, this would be just the barest beginnings of her travels.


Part 2

Willow looked around, trying to figure out the best direction to go. Of course, it would help if she could figure out if she actually wanted to go somewhere in particular, like the Castle in the center. Jareth had said a new life, not that he’d send them home. She had an unsettling suspicion that he had a wicked sense of humor, and that the joke was on her and Amy.

To the right, she could see the Castle, a mass of towers and walls and possibly a few arches that seemed to defy all known laws of architecture and some of the laws of gravity and physics. It was an impossible castle for an inhuman king of a magical kingdom. That actually made the sort of sense that didn’t bear close inspection. She saw nothing to give her any idea where the brick courtyard had been, or still was. She had the impression that she had been moved, not the bricks. With a sigh, Willow began walking along the wall of hedges, certain that there would be a gap to let her into this hedge maze. Then, if she could get out if it…

There a faint noise, like something with soft footsteps following her.

Willow spun around, seeing nothing behind her, but the edges of the shrub were shaking a bit, as if something had brushed against them. Maybe it wasn’t in sight, but that was a sign that either something WAS following her…. Or else the hedges could wiggle. Looking a bit closer at the hedge, Willow noticed the tiny thorns that almost covered the branches. She wouldn’t have wanted to stumble and fall against them, but the idea of them moving on their own… of the hedge getting her… She shivered, and started walking again.

The air felt chilly, and thin breezes seemed to tug at her clothing, slipping up sleeves, down her collar to raise goose bumps over her body. Her fingers and toes felt numb, as did her ears. She almost felt like the air was trying to take her clothing away, to leave her shivering and exposed. But… air couldn’t do that, could it?

The leaves of the thorny hedge kept rustling, only it sounded almost like they were whispering softly, menacing whispers in some other language. Other voices, higher pitched and a few that were very low, sounded like they were laughing at her, giggling and snickering somewhere out of sight, but close enough that they could watch her. Watch the poor human girl wander around the maze, hopelessly lost and cold…

Hugging her arms around herself, Willow tried to shake herself out of it. She wasn’t some helpless teenage looser anymore. She was in college, had helped save the world… brought Buffy back from the dead. She shouldn’t be freaked out by whispering hedges and unseen people or things laughing at her. Really. And any minute now, her mental pep talk would start working… any time now.

The thorny hedge continued, twisting and turning. Finally, it opened out into an area that had been paved in dark grey slabs of stone, with tow solid walls of similar stones and a third with a large uneven doorway, with a huge, rough door that somehow reminded Willow of old myths, about the houses that man eating ogres lived inside. She tried to smile, certain that the effort was a failure. More laughter rang out from behind her, from the tops of the walls, echoing on the stone.

A quick glance caught just the barest glimpse of ducking creatures, with large ears and long noses, wearing funny caps as they ducked out of sight. Well, he had said that he was the Goblin King, didn’t that sort of mean that he had… goblins? Willow swallowed nervously, wishing that she hadn’t read so many frightening stories about goblins and monsters, wishing she didn’t have such an active imagination.

Her hand shook as she prepared to knock on the door.

In his throne room, Jareth smiled, watching the little red head. Such an easily frightened girl, this Willow. Maybe he’d have to keep her around. Assuming that she survived the Goblin Bakery… He released the shimmering crystal that held her image, plucking another from the air where they spun and sparkled. Now to check on the other one, hadn’t her name been Amy?

Part 3

Amy could feel the panic rising inside of her. The whole place felt wrong… drenched in magic, but not the right sort of power. This didn’t feel like home, not at all like the sort of thing you should be able to tap and use. This was like a downpour, like an undertow. It was there, and powerful, and if she tried to touch it things could be very dangerous. Power flowed through everything, a dizzying hum of magic and illusion.

Then HE’d spoken. He had been power, almost too blinding to look at. Power that was old and wild and had never been human. Would never be human. He’d said that he’d brought them here, to his labyrinth. A labyrinth was just a fancy word for a maze… no no no she was human again, not a rat!

Amy bolted, running away from the Goblin King. She could feel her pulse hammering, the air burning cold in her lungs as she sped over bricks, turns and corridors quickly serving to confuse her. She could see the sullen sun, but… Could it move? Did it even rise and set like the one over Earth?

She barely managed to skid to a halt as she realized that she’d just turned down a dead end passage. The bricks were a warm yellow tone, almost like sand at the beach. The air wasn’t cold any more either, having somehow grown warm, almost hot. It smelled like sweat, and baked sand, and something else, almost like decay, teased in the distance.

She found herself edging sideways, until her back was pressed against the warm bricks. Now was not the time to panic. She was alone in a maze in some far away magic land….. Nobody but Willow and whoever had made the wish knew where they were. She was a witch… who’d spent the last three years as a rat.

Oh, who did she think she was kidding? Now was the perfect time to panic.

She closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing, to slow or halt the trickle of hot tears that slipped over her face. How had this happened to her? She was human again, had found a way to make everything feel good and right and wonderful again… This wasn’t supposed to be happening! She was supposed to be able to make everything better, make her life good again - no, better than before. Instead, she was… here. In a giant maze, the amusement of some inhuman thing that wore a shape almost like a man.

It was terrible. She was trapped all over again, but not in the cage that Willow had brought to take care of her rat-self because Sunnydale was scary, no… She felt almost like her mind was spinning, and twisting. Now was not the time to have a nervous breakdown, not the time to cry so hard that she couldn’t see or hear anything.

Amy froze, her whole body wanting to tremble. She’d just heard a noise, like something scraping over brick. There it was again… and sort of a loud whufffing noise, like something very big breathing. It was just on the other side of this wall, what ever ‘it’ was. Her mind turned to old stories, ancient tales about mazes with terrible monsters trapped inside. The Minotaur of Crete, that was given a sacrifice of people from another Greek city every seven years, to devour them… What city had that been? Sparta? Marathon, no… Athens! Wait, she was in the maze. What if… She had to get out of here!

She started moving again, not rapid panicked flight, but mouse soft creeping… something that she’d had a lot of practice in over the past few years. Mouse soft, rat soft… the difference was so tiny… She bit back a giggle or sob, she wasn’t quite certain which. What had Rack done to her? He’d been able to make everything feel so good, but she needed to think now, and that seemed so hard right now. So hard to focus… The sound of another scrape made focusing suddenly easier. She could taste fear in her mouth… it was remarkably like bile.

Carefully, Amy crept through brick corridors, hardly daring to breathe. She was afraid, uncertain what lived in here, uncertain what it would eat, uncertain how her life had become the wreck that it was. Images of things danced in her head, faerie tales and legends, movies and demons…

Looking down a side corridor, she saw what at first she thought were sticks… but they were too straight, too smooth. The ends were too knobbly… a scattering of bones lay over the bricks, bleaching in the sun. Leathery bits still clung to a few of them… In her fear, she couldn’t tell if they were real or illusion. She bit back a scream, her body bolting again, running frantically in an effort to get away. Anywhere.

She was aware of something large and dark with big eyes and hot breath before he came to a door, flinging it open, darting through in her fear. She didn’t look back, didn’t see the strange creature with the long tail and long yellow fur. Amy didn’t see the dark eyes full of intelligence and worry.

“Girl run fast.” With a heavy sigh, the creature known as Ludo sat down.

Amy ran through what looked almost like a park, the shade of the trees almost painfully cool on her skin. She was sweating, and shaking… was it from the brick maze, her flight, or was it something else? Was it from the desire… the need to go back to Rack? He was back in Sunnydale, a whole separate world from where she was now… Shaking her head, she leaned against a tree, gasping for breath.

Stupid of her to let herself grow so dependant. Stupid to allow someone else that much power over her… Now she was far away, and would have to get over Rack and his… whatever. Cold Turkey… she suppressed a tiny giggle. There was nothing funny about her situation. Nothing funny about her involvement with Rack. She’d been better off in her mother’s body…

Well, that was one thing that this trip had got her. If she ever made it back to Sunnydale, she would never go to Rack again, never seek that sort of magical high. If was the question.

But how could she help her chances of going home? How could she… wait, he’d said the only way home was from the castle in the center. If she could reach the castle, then everything would be better. All she had to do was find her way through the largest maze in creation…

Part 4.

Willow pushed opened the door, her heart beating so fast and so loud in her ears that she was surprised it didn’t attract attention. Heat poured out, the room was illuminated only by flames flickering in vast fireplaces and under bubbling cauldrons. There were scents herbs, and meat, and bread, and the sounds of fire popping, and cauldrons of something liquid bubbling, and scurrying noses, some thin and tiny, as if from rat feet, others bigger, more substantial. She almost wished that she could turn around and go home… But she had no idea how to get ‘home’ from here.

She was in a huge, terrible looking kitchen. Plates and pots crusted with grime towered in stacks near tubs of water, soot covered the walls and the bottoms of pots. Smoke made it even harder to see, and made her eyes water and her throat itch. Overhead, there were carcasses hanging, raw meat and exposed bones making the place look even more dreadful. She couldn’t tell what the meat had come from, and wasn’t entirely certain that she wanted to know. There had to be a way out of here…

Willow wandered through a maze of ovens, burning cauldrons, and towering dishes. Then, one of the goblins spotted her. Willow heard a clattering sound as a heavy looking tray was dropped by a short figure with dark skin, huge ears and droopy skin, a figure that had little beady eyes that hissed, showing sharp looking teeth. “Intruder! Intruder in the kitchen!”

With outraged shouts, goblins grabbed cleavers, fire pokers, and barbeque forks, charging towards Willow. They looked furious that anyone would dare intrude upon their domain, and quite willing to chop her into little bits as a punishment. None of them were even her height, but they still managed to look entirely menacing, terrifying in fact.

Willow screamed, turning and running through a gap in the cauldrons, hoping that she could find a way out, hoping that she was faster than the goblins, that she didn’t run into more of them in these kitchens. She ran, dodging piles of dishes, weaving though corridors, almost running over yet another goblin that howled and joined into the pursuit. She was panicking, and wondered if she’d even be able to get out alive.

A shape of brightness shone ahead, and Willow felt a spark of hope. A doorway… if she could just reach it… She charged through, hoping that she would end up somewhere that wasn’t filled with goblins. Almost anywhere would be better…

Willow found herself in a long corridor, paved and walled in gray stone. It seemed to go on forever in either direction. It was empty, with occasional little tufts of yellowed grass growing up between the stones, or tall stalks of weeds with rattling seed pods or dried flowers. She leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath. For the moment, this would have to do. Nobody was chasing… wait, the doorway had been… Willow spun around, expecting goblins with cleavers and pokers to be pouring out behind her.

But she saw only a stone wall. There was no doorway, no sign that there had ever been anything but gray stones piled on top of each other.

“Now that was freaky. Okay, you can’t even backtrack because things keep changing… I don’t know if that’s good or bad.” She began walking down the corridor, picking the direction that put the sun at her back instead of in her eyes. That was the only difference that she could see in either direction.

Willow didn’t notice the small worm that peeked out from a crack in the rocks, watching her go past. “Not another poor lost girl. ‘Onestly, I really don’t know where he finds them all.”

The corridor seemed almost to ripple, extending longer in front of her. Willow sighed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “This is ridiculous. Even a magic maze can’t just… well, maybe it can. There has to be a better way…”

She leaned against the wall, trying to figure out some way to keep from walking forever. Maybe if she trailed her hand along the wall, she would discover if there were any openings that were covered by illusion? It wasn’t a very good plan, but it was the best that she had right now. Willow started walking again, her fingers trailing lightly over the rough stone.

Part 5

Amy could feel herself relaxing a bit, the lush green grass soft beneath her feet. Shadows and the orangish sunlight dappled over the area in broken patterns, and graceful trees lined the courtyard. She could hear the sleepy drone of bees, and unfamiliar birdsong from the tree tops. She smiled, walking among the trees, looking at the unexpected beauty of this area. There was even a tiny stream burbling through the grass. She wandered over, kneeling beside it. Her throat was parched after her experience in the hot sand colored maze.

The water was as clear as glass, running over stones and pebbles. Amy cupped her hand, lowering it towards the water. It was as cold as ice, and she lost the feeling in her hand almost immediately. It wasn’t until after she’d swallowed a mouthful of the bitterly cold water that she noticed the red lines of color now flowing past her. Her eyes grew wider as she saw a crimson droplet fall towards the water, creating yet another scarlet ribbon of color.

She turned her hand over, still not feeling anything. Slashes covered the back of her hand, and blood welled up, red and thick. Horrified, she looked back at the rocks that the water sang over, this time noticing all the sharp edges that covered them. It was with a great deal of caution that she washed the back of her hand until it stopped bleeding. She ripped the sleeve of her shirt, making a crude bandage for her hand out of it.

That was quite enough of that little stream. Lurching awkwardly to her feet, Amy resumed walking, feeling most unsettled by the whole incident. She’d thought the stream was safe, but she should have known better. Nothing here was safe. She began shivering, feeling suddenly cold, the numbness of her hand slowly spreading upwards. She kept walking.

The trees changed, going from broad leaved shade trees to a grove of fruit trees. But the trees were oddly confused, bearing flowers, ripening fruit and fruit that looked so gloriously perfect that it made her mouth water to look at them. Some held fruit that she could recognize – apples, oranges, cherries, and peaches. Others held things that she couldn’t identify, tiny clustered berries that looked almost like yellow green raspberries, things that looked like brown furry ovals, things that looked like melon sized globes of blue… The mingled scents of so many different fruits were rich and almost intoxicating.

She could see the bees now, green and yellow striped creatures as large as hummingbirds. They had wicked looking stingers, and moved from flower to flower slowly. One tree held a massive hive, the oddly colored bees flying in and out in an almost orderly fashion.

The fruit smelled and looked so tempting… Would it hurt if she ate one? Would it do something dreadful to her? How much of a choice did she have? She’d been brought to this labyrinth, left to find her way to the middle or not. Nothing had been given to help her on her way, was she expected to starve? The idea didn’t appeal very much to her.

Her hand reached out, plucking an apple from one of the trees. The sleeve-bandage looked so harsh, so out of place next to the fruit laden branches… A single piece of fruit couldn’t hurt that much, and she felt so hungry. She took a bite, the apple crisp and tart, juice dripping from her chin.

She didn’t notice the flurry of wings as every bird that had been perched in the apple tree took to the air. Amy paid no attention to the harsh calls of the birds, or the angry hum of the bees that the birds had disturbed. She didn’t notice that the few birds that had been stung by the bees fell to the ground, no longer moving.

Gazing into the crystal, Jareth smiled. “Yes, eat the goblin fruit, Amy. You can’t stop the inevitable. Much too late now, even if you wanted to try.”

He released the crystal holding the images of Amy back into the small cluster circling near his hand. “Hmm… I wonder if anyone’s even missed the pair of them.”

With a gesture, silver sparkles flew together, swirling and glowing until they had formed what almost appeared to be a silvery white mirror in a slightly ovaled shape, hovering in front of Jareth and his throne.

“Show me Sunnydale.”

Part 6

The silver disk flared for a moment before darkening, showing a night time scene. At a casual glance, it looked like a normal two story house in a normal town, with concrete sidewalks, and yards with careful flowerbeds and the occasional lawn ornament. The stars glimmered overhead, and the moon was partly obscured by the scattered clouds. A pale haired figure in a flowing black leather coat stalked down the street, making his way towards the house. His blue eyes looked cold, and he held a cigarette in one hand.

Without pausing, he opened the door, stalking into the house, and into a bedroom. Stuffed animals and lace edged pillows lined a bed with a rumpled pastel comforter, and a computer sat on a desk beside a bookshelf stuffed full of the most interesting assortment of literature. Cheap romance novels, science fiction, and historicals were stacked two deep on the top shelf, the second holding volumes on various plants, on historical cultures and Wicca beliefs mixed in with volumes of scientific theory about computers, electronics, psychology and medicine. On the bottom were texts on demons and mystical rituals, artifacts and borrowed Watcher’s chronicles. There was also a near pristine looking copy of what was labeled ‘the Slayer’s Handbook’. The balcony doors stood open, and papers had been scattered onto the floor, as if from a gust of wind. A fine layer of a silvery glittering dust coated the room.

“Bloody hell, how did this happen?” The man’s words held an angry edge to them, and he actually growled as he looked around again. He glared at the long mirror standing beside the changing screen, the mirror reflecting the room, but not the blond intruder.

He pressed a finger on the silvery dust, the tip shimmering as he lifted it. Carefully, he licked the shimmering powder away, growling as he did. His eyes snapped open, golden, his teeth changed to sharp fangs, his features more feral, menacing. “Goblin magic. Damn.”

He swept back out of the house, slamming the door behind him, a gesture more of anger than any concern for the security of the house. He made his way unmolested by the various demons or vampires to an apartment complex, going to a particular apartment that had a rather aged and weathered looking tan car in the front. His fist contacted the door harshly, almost threatening to break the wood.

“Just a moment!” The querulous voice had a decidedly British accent, something rather out of place in a small California town. There was a slight ratting, and then the door cracked open a few inches. “Ahh, Spike. Kindly stop trying to break my door so that I may unlock it.”

After the shortest amount of time that the older man could open the door, the blond stalked inside. “There’s a problem at the witch’s house.”

“Well, yes, I was wondering why she didn’t arrive for the research tonight. Was there some sort of… personality clash?” Rupert Giles adjusted his glasses, as if uncomfortable with his visitor.

“Nothing that simple. Tell me, Watcher. How much do you know about Goblins?” The blond had resumed his human features, but he was still clearly angry.

“Goblins! Goodness, that’s not the sort of question I normally get.” He walked into the kitchen, returning with a cup of tea. “Do you mean the scattered goblins, or… those of the Kingdom? Spike, this is not the sort of thing to be taken lightly.”

“I’m not taking any of this lightly.” Spike started pacing, one hand playing with his lighter. “I went to check on the witches. Starting to think they’ve got a problem too big to just hope it’ll go away if you give them the cold shoulder. Red’s house was empty, her balcony doors wide open, like a big gust of wind. And the whole blasted bedroom was coated in glittering silver dust. What the bloody hell does that sound like to you, Watcher?”

“Damn. Someone made the bloody wish. Who would be foolish enough to wish anything after everything that we’ve been through? After having Anya around for the past three years?” Giles sipped at his tea, frowning.

“I have a guess. Dawn. She’s young, damn angry at the pair of missing witches, and has her sister’s tendency to ignore the advice of everyone else.” Spike scowled, the expression far more intimidating on him than on Giles.

“Logical.” Giles almost looked like he’d taken a sip of pure lemon juice instead of tea. “I suppose we shall have to go ask her about it.”

“Right, just waltz in, say ‘Buffy, we think your sister wished the trouble making witches into a magic kingdom’? I’m sure that’d go over well.” Sarcasm laced Spike’s words.

“Close, but not quite. Come with me, if there are goblins about, I’d rather not be out alone.” Giles put down his tea, heading towards the door.

They went to another house, and entered through the front door much more calmly than the last home entries of the evening. “Dawn? Are you in here?”

A short blond in a pair of worn jeans and a little shirt came into view, holding a cup of cocoa in her hand. “Giles and… Spike. Dawn’s in the living room, moping over her cast. What’s the what?”

Giles shook his head, moving towards the living room. “This is an urgent and serious matter, Buffy. I’m hoping that Spike was mistaken in his analysis…”

Buffy looked at Spike, her nose slightly wrinkled in confusion. “In English?”

“I think Dawn made a wish and got Red and Mouse-girl kidnapped.” Spike’s words were still unhappy, but the growl was absent.

Buffy inhaled, her gaze flickering towards the other room, where her sister was curled in a chair. “She wouldn’t… would she? Dawn’s heard Anya’s stories, she knows what sort of trouble that word can bring. You have to be wrong.”

Spike frowned, walking towards the end table. He ran his finger over it, scowling at it. Holding it into the light, the dust shimmered and almost glowed silver. “Does it look like I’m doing this for a lark?”

“That’s… since when does household dust look like silver?” Buffy’s voice was soft, and she looked at the dust, her finger almost but not quite touching it.

“Real dust doesn’t. It’s a sign that the Goblin Kingdom had touched this place.” Spike’s voice was flat, almost hard.

“Of course I meant it! They’ve caused nothing but trouble! I’m glad that they’re not here any more.” Dawn’s voice carried loud, and she bolted from the room, her footsteps thudding up the stairs until a door slammed from above.

“Okay, maybe she would.” Buffy sighed, leaning against a wall. “Can we fix it?”

“Unlikely.” Giles sounded weary all of a sudden. “I’ll have to check a few books, but… the most likely options for retrieving people depend on the person who made the wish wanting them back.”

“This is bad, isn’t it?” Buffy’s voice was soft, and a single tear glimmered in her lashes.

“Yes.” The single word emerged at almost the same moment from both Spike and Giles.

Buffy looked from one to the other, her eyes wide. “You’re agreeing. Now I know things are bad.”

 

 

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