Darkened Faerie TaleBy Lucinda
Part 13
Considering that the last thing she remembered was being bitten by a vampire while surrounded by Goblin zombies, Willow really hadn’t expected to wake up. Unless maybe it was as a vampire, but would that really be the same Willow awareness that it had been before? She winced, her whole body aching far too much for abstract philosophy. A quick check revealed that she was breathing with a firm pulse anyhow. While not a bad thing, it only confused her more. Shouldn’t she be dead now?“Glad to see you waking up, red.” The voice was a bit rough and deep, as if it had been infrequently used.
There was a brief flare of light before what looked like a small oil lamp was lit. Willow squinted for a moment, puzzling over the odd long shape and pale color before deciding that she really didn’t want to get a good look at the lamp, and it was probably made from bone. The figure was sitting on the other side of a small room, not even as big as her bedroom at home, but larger than the bathroom. Long dark hair fell in a wild tangled mass past his shoulders, which were a little bit wider than Xander’s. His eyes were pale with dark almost bruise colored rings, but no longer yellow, and looked sunken over gaunt cheeks. Tattered remnants of something that looked like it had once been dark velvet were falling over slightly less tattered pale linen and leather pants.
“Not that I’m objecting… but… why am I still alive?” Willow sat up very slowly, her head spinning just a bit. Her leg felt… different, and a careful look showed that the bandage had been changed. There was another one on her shoulder where the vampire had bitten her.
He chuckled a bit, thin lips twisting into a smile. “Because alive, you can be useful to me.”
Willow sighed, wondering when being kidnapped because she might be ‘useful’ had become something that didn’t surprise her very much. “How? This isn’t my home, I don’t know the area, I have no useful or influential connections… and what makes you think that I’ll cooperate anyhow?”
“If you won’t cooperate, I drain you.” He leaned back just a bit, his eyes still focused on Willow. “You’re trying to get to the Castle, hoping to go home. Back to earth. I know how to get to the Castle. In return, not only will I not kill you, but I want out of this damnable maze. I don’t want to have to drink the vile fluid that passes for goblin blood, I don’t want to hide in a crypt too short for me to stand up in.”
Willow blinked, trying to process everything. He wanted to get out of here, which she could understand entirely. “I… I can’t control the Goblin King. Even if you go with me to the Castle, he might not send you back. And… if you were wished away, why didn’t you get changed?”
“Apparently, his magic works differently on the flesh of the dead, and he decided not to bother. But either nobody came for me, or they failed, and I’ve been trapped here for a very long time. I realize that you can’t control his decisions, but if I get you there, you ask if I can leave as well.” He looked at her, the sharp nails of one hand picking at a loose thread on the tattered velvet.
“That sounds… about as good as anything I can hope for here.” Willow sighed, hoping that she wasn’t simply trading death here for death later. But… couldn’t later be pushed back? “So… I’m Willow. What should I call you?”
“Silas.” He paused for a moment, almost as if he was listening for a noise too faint for Willow to detect. “It’s time for us to go now.”
Willow allowed herself the weakness of accepting the offered hand to her feet. His nails scraped just a bit over her wrist, not quite enough to draw blood, but painful. Cold as ice and painfully firm, his grip was extremely useful in becoming upright and mobile, as he half towed her along, going to the left in the room that became a hallway.
Her words were barely audible as she breathed out “Where are we?”
“There are far more mazes than the ones that are first apparent. There’s a network of tunnels that run under this kingdom that are so convoluted… I’ve sorted out twelve mazes so far, and there are still sections that I haven’t explored. However, this is a direct route to the dungeons of the Goblin Castle.” The gravelly voice was low, almost confusable with the sound of falling pebbles.
Willow nodded, uncertain if he could see the gesture or not. Maybe it didn’t matter. As quickly as he was having them go, there must be something else in the tunnels, something that she didn’t want to catch up to them. Probably something scary and carnivorous, considering the way everything else in here had gone. She tried to keep her breath for running. Run away from danger… it felt like home, like Sunnydale in the early years, before she’d become a powerful witch, before Buffy had run away and come back and died and been resurrected… Yes, run away and hope they can’t smell you.
Everything hurt again, even more intensely by the time he finally slowed down. They went from running to walking, or staggering in Willow’s case. Her lungs felt like they were filled with fire, her sides felt like they’d been twisted from all the running, and every muscles in her body except the one the Naga had bit had a throbbing ache. That one burned almost as bad as when it had first been bitten. She gasped for air as she kept staggering forwards.
The corridor was different now. It wasn’t packed dirt curving just over their heads anymore. Now, it was smooth gray stones fitted together with an arch over head, clearing at least ten feet, and almost six feet wide. Part of Willow’s mind wondered what needed the tunnel to be so high, while another part worried that their footsteps might draw it’s attention. The rest of her was just glad that they were almost there, almost done with the whole maze and being chased and pursued.
Finally, they came to a solid looking gate, apparently crafted of iron, a tiny window with bars allowing some flickering yellow light into the hallway. She could hear footsteps pass through, apparently a single goblin on a patrol. All they did was make certain their faces were not seen through the window, and they remained undetected.
Silas smiled just a bit, and tried to open the door. It didn’t move, and he growled at it, trying to reach something through the tiny window. “The damn thing is locked.”
“Let me try.” Willow moved closer, placing her hand over the place where she could make out the handle. She reached her magic towards it, feeling the thick woven power of the castle. It made her skin crawl, and she shivered. “Please… I can do this…”
There was a loud click, and the door swung open. Willow’s head throbbed, hurting as if she’d just performed something incredibly demanding, some major casting instead of a tiny bit of telekinesis.
“A witch. Convenient.” Silas reached out, his hand steadying her a bit more gently. “We’re almost there now. All we have to do should be go up those stairs.”
“Stairs.” Willow tried not to whimper, feeling as if everything was about to fall off, leaving her a wobbling skeleton.
Silas only chuckled, and they began the long climb upwards.
Part 14Amy followed the cobbled road upwards, walking counter clockwise around the base of what was either a large rocky hill or a small stone mountain towards the castle. The road made three complete loops before passing under a vicious looking portcullis, which was raised, and a pair of heavy iron gates, cast with snarling faces, currently partly open.
She passed under it quickly, unsettled by the idea of those long, sharp bits of twisted metal crashing down, pinning her bleeding and twitching body to the cobblestones… She shivered, which pulled at all the blisters again, and moved across the open courtyard. It was lined by low hedges that smelled like juniper, with matching fountains shaped like dragons spraying something dark into rippling pools. She could only hope that it was simply murky water.
Finally, she found the door to the Castle, and tugged at it. It was solid boards of wood, something almost as dark as the iron gates of the outer walls. Frustratingly, it also appeared to be quite firmly stuck… Blisters popped with excruciating agony, and she hissed in pain as the door slowly opened, rusted hinges squealing in protest.
Her hands were moist with a combination of blood and a clearish fluid, and she carefully shook them, glaring at the door. “I guess he doesn’t use that one very often.”
She tried to enter the castle quietly, knowing the effort was futile after the racket from the hinges. The hallway was of dark stone, banded with grays and black, greens and blue and purple all streaming together, the colors shifting with the light and the angle of view. She made her way through a tall, arched room, the vaulted ceiling vanishing into darkness. Pillars carved like trees linked the dark floor to the darkness above, leaving her feeling very small and bedraggled.
The walls here had been plastered, and then inscribed with images, scenes of people lost in mazes, or fleeing from horrible monsters or troops of the mounted goblins. She almost… yes, the images were moving, tiny figures fleeing hopelessly from pursuers that had caught them ages ago.
But she had reached the Castle at the center of the Labyrinth. Wasn’t that victory?
“Does this mean that I win?”
Her whisper echoed impossibly loud in the hall, her whisper coming back at her a hundred times, all louder than her voice could manage. The cacophony of words was loud, painful, and she gasped, the noise echoing like thunder in the darkness, almost driving her to her knees. Clutching her painful hands over hurting ears, she started to stagger rapidly across the hall. But her footsteps were like cannon fire, nearly deafening her. It took forever to creep mouse soft through the hall, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if her ears had been bleeding.
She collapsed to the floor, her head pounding, hands agony, gasping for breath, for ease. The stone here was a dull gray again, flat flagstones over the floor. She just huddled there for a few moments, before allowing her eyes to follow the floor over to a staircase that lead up a wall… where it promptly turned sideways. Her eyes got wider as she looked over the expanse of the huge cubical space. Staircases moved at all angles, going up from the floor, out from walls, even down from the ceiling…
Vertigo took hold, and she swayed, rocking slowly on the floor. “No. This room is impossible, nobody could walk on those… it’s not real, can’t be real…”
A fat goblin in something almost like a suit opened a door and walked along a staircase that emerged from a wall, exiting through an opening near but not quite at the level of the floor. He seemed entirely unaware that he’d just walked on the wall, that gravity should have had him crashing downwards… Or did gravity change here as well?
She wasn’t certain how long she sat there, rocking back and forth in an effort to make sense of the impossible room. She’d seen other goblins pass through the space, one even on the ceiling, apparently unaware that his feet were in the direction that should be up. Perhaps she would have sat there ignored and frightened forever.
But then Amy heard the sound of a baby wailing, the sound of a baby that was afraid and didn’t know anybody around. Then, another baby joined in, and she heard the sound of goblin laughter. Slowly, she found herself moving towards the crying, confident that the King of the Goblins would be there.
She walked through another arched doorway, looking at the throne room. Goblins scurried over the floor, and a group of unhappy babies were sitting in the corner, some crying while others sucked almost contentedly at bottles. Somehow, the bottles seemed almost worse than the ones that were wailing. The Goblin King was sprawled over a throne of pale stone, his purple cloak spread behind him. A collection of crystal spheres circled to his left, as if an invisible juggler performed for his amusement.
“There you are, Amy. So glad that you could join us.” His voice was somehow more terrifying than she’d remembered.
“I…” Her voice squeaked, a most frightened noise. “I want to go home.”
Several of the gathered goblins sniggered, their eyes small and dark and cruel, their yellow teeth gleaming in the firelight. “Home….” Harsh whispers rose, goblin voices mocking her. “She thinks she can leave.”
Jareth looked over at them, a small frown on his face. “Do shut up.”
He turned his attention back to Amy. “I’m afraid that’s rather against the rules now. You ate of the fruit of the Goblin Kingdom, gave of your blood to this land. You’ve bound yourself here with magic far older than the parlor tricks that you practiced back in Sunnydale. No, Amy, this will be your home now. But you don’t have to be a goblin. I can enable the magic of this realm to change you, to give you a new shape instead of allowing you to become yet another goblin.”
Amy felt like screaming, or maybe crying. The fruit… oh no, the fruit. How had she been so stupid? “I don’t want to be a goblin. What… what would I become?”
Jareth’s mocking smile seemed to probe at her fears. “That’s not very predictable. Something shaped from the inner depths of your spirit, a reflection of your personality and nature. Maybe something monstrous, maybe something harmless. It’s really quite a gamble. I’ll leave the choice up to you.”
Part 15Amy closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. Bad enough that he seemed to find this whole thing very amusing to begin with, but she would really prefer not showing any additional weakness in front of him. On the one hand, she didn’t like the idea of becoming a goblin. Of having big squashy looking feet, a long nose, and big flaps for ears, with beady little eyes. But there were lots of goblins, wouldn’t it allow her to be part of a community of some sort?
If she chose to be changed into ‘something else’ how did she know what it would be? How did she know that she wouldn’t end up as a giant rat, or a poisonous hedge? But… what if she ended up something better? Something strong, and influential? A creature so powerful that the goblins wouldn’t dare attack her.
She stood a bit straighter, looking not at the Goblin King, but at the shimmering loops of crystals beside him. They sparkled and gleamed, moving in loops and patterns, holding her eyes and attention… Could she ever learn to do something like that? Shaking her head, she looked away from the hypnotic moving crystals, and stared at a blank patch of wall on the other side of him. “Since you say that I can’t go home…”
There was a clattering noise, accompanied by a goblin squeaking, like one of the guards had suddenly fallen to the floor. Then, a tall figure came through the doorway, one arm half supporting Willow. Still in her now tattered pajamas, a bandage wrapped around one calf and another on her shoulder. Willow’s eyes were dark ringed, matching those of her companion, and they both looked far to pale. It didn’t look like she’d had a very easy time of the Labyrinth either.
“Willow…” Amy felt a bit of relief at seeing her friend. There was also confusion, who was that guy with Willow? Why did he feel wrong? Why did he make her think of blood and shadows?
“We would like to go back to earth now.” Willow’s voice sounded utterly exhausted, but filled with determination.
“Ah, perhaps you missed the part where I explained to Amy that if you’ve eaten the food of the Goblin Kingdom, you can’t leave?” His mocking smile seemed entirely intact.
“I haven’t eaten anything since before you kidnapped me here. And as for Silas… I don’t think he’s eaten anything here either.” Willow looked at the Goblin King, wearing what Amy recognized as her resolve face, even as she swayed a bit, leaning into her companion slightly.
“He’s been here for quite a while. Not the custom to let people go after a few days.” Jareth leaned back, looking almost thoughtful, as if planning how he could torment someone even more.
“I have not eaten the food of the Goblins, not the fruit of your trees. And I have had enough of Goblin hospitality. I would very much like to go back to earth now.” The voice of the man was gravelly, harsh and carried a faint accent that Amy couldn’t place.
“Amy ate the fruit, so she’s become one of my subjects now. Although I have generously given her the choice of becoming a goblin or becoming… something else.” There was a casual looking wave in her direction. “As for you, Silas, the only way for you to leave here now would be to bind yourself to Willow. Tie your future to hers, and then I could send the both of you home. Of course, she would have to agree to that…”
Amy could tell by his mocking smile that he really didn’t think that Willow would agree to such a thing. From the startled and unhappy expression on the face of the stranger, Silas, he didn’t have much hope in her agreement either. Amy sighed, wondering how all of this would unfold. But one thing was clear. “I don’t want to be a goblin. Change me into something else.”
Jareth chuckled, the sound somehow blending the echoes of footsteps, the gurgling of a stream, and the sound of the wind, and produced a glowing ball of light in his hand. Silver and gold and green and purple swirled around, sending little sparks into the air. “Here then, catch.”
Upon seeing the multi colored globe of power that came swooping towards her, Amy reached out a hand even as she cringed. This would change her, make her a part of this place. It felt like fire and ice and wind, raw power tangled into a knot that had just caught on her fingers. For a moment, it hung there, almost like a shimmering bubble before the threads of color untangled, wrapping themselves around her, wild power enclosing her, burrowing into her body. The world was drowned in colors, streaks and sparkles and glowing light.
She tried to scream, but there was no air in her lungs, nothing but the power of the Goblin Kingdom. Her muscles spasmed and twisted, as if they were trying to crawl away from her, from the power that was now clinging to her body. Her bones stretched like taffy, becoming longer, thinner. There was a pressure over her body, although she wasn’t certain quite what it was. After an eternity, the power faded, and she collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. Her hands looked longer, the bones more delicate, the skin a smooth grayish, unflawed by blisters or freckles, only the few thin lines from the stones in the stream. Long strands of green hair fell to the floor, pooling around and over her new hands. Carefully, she rose to her feet, realizing that she was much taller now. Tall, slender, with gray skin and green hair… “What have I become?”
“Well, it appears that you’ve become a dryad. A tree spirit, if you’ve neglected your classical education. I’ll just send you on to your tree now…” His smile looked just a fraction warmer, a touch less malicious. “Remember, your tree is your life.”
Power swirled around her again, glowing silver sparkles and a sound like fading trumpets. Amy didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry when her vision cleared. She was back in the park like area that held the fruit trees that she’d eaten from. She could hear the stream playing over those razor sharp rocks, the drone of bees. Beside her was a slender gray barked tree. Not a fruit tree, but one with spreading branches for shade.
Placing one hand on it’s trunk, she knew that this had become home. She felt her eyes prickling as if with tears, but none rolled down her cheeks. Could dryads even cry? “Well, here I am.”
She sighed, trying to resign herself to the fact that she would never see Sunnydale again. Surprisingly, she realized that she would miss things of modern convenience and life, like showers and chocolate, far more than the actual place. But this would be her home now, she could already feel the attachment to the tree, her tree. She could see the filaments of power connecting her to the tree, see how they had the same essence. She was bound to this tree. And there was nothing that she could do about it anyhow.
Part 16Willow hadn’t known what to expect when Amy had asked to become something else. Certainly not the ball of power and light that had wrapped around her, changing her, stretching her taller, remaking her to the green and gray of a tree… A dryad. She closed her eyes and hoped that Amy could do well here, better than Sunnydale had been. She shivered, feeling the presence of Silas beside her.
Jareth had said that Silas could only return if she would allow the vampire to be bound to her. Thus placing the whole burden on her shoulders… allow the one who had helped her to remain trapped here, or bind herself to a killer. Neither option sounded very appealing. But, she’d promised to try to help him get home in return for his help to get to the castle. Shouldn’t she keep her word?
She opened her eyes, looking once more to the Goblin King. “I promised that I would try to allow him the ability to go home as well. Send us both back to earth.”
Jareth chuckled again. “Not the usual choice at all. Very well, I shall return you both to earth, but there will be a binding between the two of you. None of that love, honor and obey bother, just a simple binding of your essences. If you get hurt, he gets hurt. If he hurts, you hurt. Of course, he won’t be able to kill you, that would just… how is it that vampires die? Disintegrating to ashes? You’ll be bound to each other, but back on earth. Take his hand it you’re willing to go home under those conditions.”
Willow looked over to Silas, who’s eyes were filled with hope. Holding her hand towards him, she offered a tiny smile. “If you think being bound to me is better than staying here, let’s go.”
Silas laced his cold finger through hers, a bitter smile on his face. “There are many things that would be better than staying here. I hadn’t planned on seeing more of you once I’d returned to earth, but… You aren’t a fate worse than exile.”
“What a resounding opinion of me.” Willow’s murmur was low, too soft for mortal ears, but not quite too soft for the ears of Silas.
The castle seemed to spin around her, and power rushed in her ears like wind. She felt herself lifted up, vertigo forcing her to close her eyes. She could still feel threads of herself reaching out, twisting with something cold that felt like blood and time and other. Her essence was threading itself through Silas, and she could feel his essence threading through hers… tendrils of black and crimson and purple reached from him, mingling with her own green and silver and a slightly different feeling black. Threads of ‘Willow’ now ran through Silas and there were threads of ‘Silas’ through her own body and pattern.
Spinning filled her awareness, and she fought the disorientation, fought to control her stomach that wanted to heave and wretch. The Goblin magic pushed and tugged, spinning and leaving her senses reeling. Then, she was falling to the ground yet again, her knees feeling like they had to be entirely purple with bruises by now. She could smell the faint ocean scent, exhaust from cars, and recently turned earth. “Why am I not surprised that we’re in a cemetery?”
Silas still held her hand in a firm grip, and he stood up, lifting her to her feet as well. “Where are we? This is not my home… so it must be yours.”
“Welcome to Sunnydale, California, the year two thousand and two. Home of the Hellmouth… and considering that bond thing, could you try to avoid the Slayer?” Willow looked around, figuring that she should probably be able to recognize the specific cemetery from the hours of patrolling. Yes, Eternal Peace, just a little past the place that had been the high school.
Releasing her hand, Silas made a small bow towards her. “Thank you for getting me back to earth. It isn’t quite home, but it will do nicely.” He smiled, and left, muttering something about a bath and clean clothing.
Willow gave a small smile, feeling perfect understanding of his desires. A real bath… Clothing that was intact… oh, food. Yes, she was definitely hungry. Fortunately, it wasn’t that long before she made it back to her parents’ house, unlocking the door and going inside. She could hear the sound of her father snoring upstairs. Rolling her eyes, Willow wondered if they’d even realized that she had been gone.
Deciding that it didn’t matter, she went to the kitchen, attending to her empty stomach first. There were strawberries, and she devoured them gleefully. After that, she put together a sandwich, frowning as she ate it. For some reason, it tasted like blood and ashes. So did her apple. But the glass of orange juice tasted right, rich and wonderful, utterly perfect.
After a shower, she made her way to her room, shutting the balcony door with a frown. Had that been open all night? No, hadn’t it crashed open before she and Amy had vanished? And there was silver dust over the room, a fine layer over everything. She called it to her hand, forming a shimmering mass that she poured into a glass bottle. It would look harmless, and still be contained. She smiled, and almost danced with glee at the perfect obedience of her power for the simple task. Instead, she found a cork for the bottle, placed it by her terrarium, and went to bed.
It felt good to be home, to be in a place where the power wasn’t so thick. Somewhere that she knew the walls wouldn’t change once in a while. Although there were still monsters lurking in the distance, hiding in the darkness… Willow finally felt safe, and slept.
Part 17When she woke up, Willow sighed, stretching her stiff muscles. Her leg felt… better, and so did her shoulder where Silas had bitten her. The light streaming in from the window seemed very bright, and she winced while she staggered to the shower, trying to remember if she had anywhere to be. Nothing came to mind, so she decided to just take some time to think about everything.
The relationship with Tara was over now. There was nothing that she could do to change the past. Not only that, but… Tara wouldn’t like the way she’d been trying to do things. Wouldn’t’ like the near shameless misery and the dabblings with dark power. Tara would have despised Rack on sight… and once upon a time she would have as well. She should have despised him… but the memories seemed almost murky, blurry. Had that been something that Rack had done, or a side effect of whatever he’d done to her? So, she had to move on, without self destructing.
Rack. Ughh. The very thought of him made her skin crawl, well not literally, but it felt like jumbo sized shivers. He was bad, he was trouble, and unfortunately, he was human, so Buffy couldn’t slay him. Couldn’t sic the Initiative on him like they did with Ethan. Hmmm… Maybe she could think of something later. Until then, she would avoid him.
She would have to try to cut back a bit though, maybe it would be better to let Buffy and Spike kill things, maybe even find ways that Xander and Anya could fight as well? Hmm, maybe a strength spell, or… No. That wouldn’t actually be cutting back, would it? As near as she could figure, someone had thought that she and Amy were doing to much magic, or too wild of magic, and had banished them away.
But who would do that? Who could do something like that? Well, Anya still had connections, and Giles had lots of books on all sorts of things. Who knew how much Spike knew about magic and rituals? And then there was always the fact that Dawn was originally intended to open portals between dimensions. There were far too many possibilities.
She wondered just a little what Silas was up to. Probably somewhere hiding from the sunlight, considering the time. Not dead, she would have been able to feel that. She was only worried because her fate had been tied to his, right? Well, that was a good reason to worry if he was healthy, but… did this link that the Goblin King had forged influence her mind or emotions? How much did it affect them beyond the ‘I hurt-he hurts’ thing?
She sighed, dressing in something comfortable as she made her way to the kitchen. Her cereal tasted normal, which was actually a welcome relief. Everything seemed wonderful until she opened the door, the sunlight so bright that it stung her eyes, making them water. With a small whimper, she grabbed a pair of sunglasses, making her way to the Espresso Pump for a nice hot mocha. After everything last night, she definitely deserved a little caffeine. As she walked, a small corner of her mind was wondering if the sensitivity to the light was the result of her bond with Silas, the fading effects of whatever the hell Rack had done to her, or the trip to the Goblin Kingdom and back.
Wrapping her cold hands around her cup, she sat down with a sigh. If it didn’t go away, it would be Silas. If it did fade, then it would be aftereffects of something. More than that was clearly not the issue. Had anyone noticed that she was gone? Would anyone have cared if they did?
“Wills! Buddy, where have you been? We were looking for you and Amy… you didn’t show up for the study thing.” Xander had worry and joy and questions all tangled in his voice. He plopped himself down in the chair next to her, close, but not enough to make her spill the hot drink on herself. “Mocha?”
“I was unavoidable absented from the study session. So was Amy. Considering everything, I deserve this mocha.” Willow glanced at him, trying to figure out if he knew anything about her absence.
“I think… that must explain why Buffy, Giles, and Spike were so angry at Dawn. What happened? Car problems?” Xander shook his head, hair flopping over his face.
“No… more like an unexpected side trip. I have to think of a suitable way to thank Dawn for that then…” Willow sipped at the mocha for a moment before swallowing it down quickly. “I suppose I should go let Giles know that I’m back?”
It wasn’t until she was walking down the street that Xander asked the question. “Back from where?”
She made a little gesture with her hand, as if waving an imprecise direction. “Oh, a bit to the left and creepy of the Twilight Zone. The Goblin Kingdom, a tangled mess of mazes that he calls his Labyrinth. Couldn’t go to research, I was trying to escape the other dimensional maze alive.”
“Labyrinth? Anything like that movie with the puppets and David Bowie?” Xander sounded like he was trying to make sense of everything.
“Sort of. But he doesn’t look like David Bowie, and the goblins aren’t harmless Hensen puppets. And there are dangerous bitey things…” Willow shivered, remembering the tangled mazes, the horrible fear that she’d be trapped there forever.
They walked in silence as Xander tried to think over her words. Willow could tell that he was trying to think of something comforting, and failing. They’d actually reached Giles place when he asked “Where’s Amy?”
The door was flung open, and Buffy was there, looking worried and nervous. “Willow… you’re alive. And… umm, where is Amy?”
Willow shook her head, walking towards the soothing darkness of indoors. Then the strangest thing happened – at the doorway, she had the oddest feeling like she was squeezing though something like jello, an almost barrier. She shivered again as she realized that it was the threshold. “Amy didn’t come back from the maze. She was trapped in the land of the Goblins. We can’t rescue her either.”
The next thing Willow knew, she was being hugged. Buffy and Xander hugged first, leaving her nearly breathless. Then Giles hugged her looking incredibly relieved. The part that was really weird was that pike even gave her a quick hug, releasing her and stepping back so quickly that it almost seemed like he’d been burned when he realized what he’d done.
“Right… good to see that you got out, Red. Thought the Goblins had you.” Spike sounded uneasy, and Willow suspected that it was from far more than the idea that he’d just willingly hugged a mortal.
“I got to come home, although it was a close thing. Amy had eaten the Goblin Fruit, and couldn’t leave. She’s not human anymore, and can’t leave the Goblin Kingdom.” Willow sat in the welcome shade, sighing with pleasure at the idea that nothing here would try to grab her or bite, not even Spike. “The nagas almost got me, and then there were… uggh.” She broke off with a shudder as she remembered the Goblin Zombies.
“Did you say nagas? Can you describe them to me please?” Giles looked like he’d entered research mode, with a side helping of worry.
“Big, scary looking snakes with gobliny heads? Umm… purple and gray with a diamondback pattern. Maybe I should just do an illusion so you can see what I mean…” Willow sighed, her hand rubbing over her calf, where the bite was still aching.
“While I normally would suggest not… I think for this it might be a good idea.” Giles had picked up a book, and was flipping through, searching for something.
Willow sighed, and closed her eyes, shaping the image of one of the nagas. She remembered the sheen of the scales, the dark beady eyes, the glistening fangs… The way it’s head swayed from side to side as it moved. Hearing gasps from the room, she opened her eyes, seeing her illusion in the middle of Giles’ floor, a little translucent but accurate. “Goblin snakes. Very unfriendly.”
“Wills… you didn’t have to make it bigger for the details. Really.” Buffy looked rather unsettled by the image.
“No, that’s life sized.” She leaned back in her seat, feeling oddly tired. Was she just that unused to working magic the right way? Was she still tired from her ordeal?
The door opened, and Dawn came inside, sounding cheerful. “… and I need to have someone help me go over the history for the test on Friday.”
The naga illusion lunged at her, a loud voice hissing ‘Intruder!’ around wicked fangs. Dawn screamed, trying to leap away, her shoulders connecting to the door with a thud. Her eyes were wide with fright, and her hands were scratching against the door as the naga illusion dissolved into smoke.
“Thanks for the vacation, Dawnie.” Willow’s voice was cold. “You almost got me killed, and Amy’s gone now. And here’s the kicker… the whole trip was deliberate. Not an accident from being a little over the top, not a badly placed pole in the way… No, you had to deliberately want Amy and me gone forever. Good to know how you really feel. The illusion wasn’t real, and it couldn’t hurt you. Maybe I should send you to try the real ones?”
”That’s… you couldn’t do that!” Dawn’s voice sounded more like denial than confidence.
Willow allowed herself a small smile. “It’s not the person making the wish that causes their victim to leave. You’re right, I couldn’t send you away, but he could take you. Send you to see the nagas, or the endless corridors that stretch out as you try to walk through them… But I won’t.”
She stood up, running her hand through her hair with a sigh. “It’s good to know that some of you were worried. But I’m feeling really tired all of a sudden, so I’ll just go home and sleep.”
Willow wondered why she felt so tired, before allowing her mind to envision Dawn trapped in the Labyrinth, lost, uncertain where to go, trying to flee from horrible monsters. The image was almost amusing, but made her feel a little guilty. Then, she substituted the image of Rack… Yes, that was better. And hey, no guilt. Best of all, he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else again. She allowed herself to dwell on that fantasy for a while, wondering if it would be right of her to take that chance, to pass a sentence like that on him.
But it couldn’t hurt to think about it, right?
Part 18Willow found herself feeling not quite in place anymore. As if she moved a beat behind, or maybe to the left of the world. She still felt tired if she spent much time in the day near Buffy, but she could stay up all night researching, or studying. The light sensitivity hadn’t faded in the three days that she’d been back, and she’d found that she could see in the dark.
Dawn was furious and not speaking to her, being ‘horribly upset and wigged’ over the naga illusion. Considering that she’d only seen them because Dawn wished her away, she couldn’t quite bring herself to be upset over that. And her leg didn’t ache anymore where the naga bite had been, with only a pair of purple lines to show that she’d been injured. Buffy had grounded Dawn for the Wish, especially since she seemed to interpret ‘Amy was trapped’ as pretty much the same as Amy being dead.
Cutting back on magic had left her feeling oddly unsettled, with extra time on her hands. She had wondered what she could do, before deciding to spend a little more time learning purely physical means of protection, and had started looking for a self defense class, or maybe fencing lessons. Something that she could do in the day, away from Buffy.
Giles had been very worried about the nagas, muttering about ‘considerable intelligence’ and ‘reports of venom being quite poisonous, although if they were goblin Nagas that could change a few things…’ Those thoughts would come down to Giles closing his book with a thump while making this sort of clucking noise and rubbing at his temple. She still hadn’t told him that one had bitten her, although she wasn’t quite certain why she’d concealed that.
Xander was talking to her again, trying to figure out how to help her deal with everything. That almost made it worth the pain and terror. Her friend was there again, spending time with her instead of just Anya, not that she tried to keep Xander away from his fiancé. She hadn’t told him anything about Silas yet, uncertain how he’d react. Xander had a well known dislike of vampires, ever since Jesse…
And somehow, that renewed friendship had resulted in her, Xander and Anya walking towards the ice cream parlor while Buffy and Spike patrolled. She was listening to them talk about their upcoming wedding plans, and smiling, laughing occasionally at some of the descriptions.
Suddenly, Xander tapped her elbow, leaning towards her with a worried expression. “I think we’re being followed.”
Willow looked around, her eyes falling on Silas, who was meandering down the street, looking much better in clean, intact clothing. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a gray long sleeved shirt, and soft looking shoes that were some sort of soft leather. He looked much better, especially with his hair combed out and falling past his shoulders in soft waves. “Good evening, Silas.”
“Willow. Who are you with?” He smiled slightly, nodding politely at the group of them.
“This is my friend Xander, and his fiancé Anya.” She hoped that he’d leave them alone.
Anya was frowning at him, as if trying to place him. “Weren’t you in Orsova? Mid fifteen hundreds? There was a wish about an unfaithful lover and her cheating heart being ripped out and crushed… or was that the one about wanting someone to melt slowly?”
Xander leaned over, his eyes worried as he whispered to her. “Anya, sweetie, I know a lot of people sort of remind you of someone, but…”
“Actually, yes. You melted the woman that my sire was trying to court. But you seem to have changed a bit since then, Anyanka.” Silas had an amused smile. Turning to Willow, he shook his head. “Such interesting people that you spend your time with.”
Willow gave a small smile and a shrug. “My life is too interesting?”
Silas just laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Unfortunately, I fear you are correct. Things shall not be boring here, my Willow. Good evening, and be careful.”
Xander was frowning, staring at the place where Silas had just did that vanishing thing that vampires seemed so good at. “Umm… Wills? I’m getting the feeling that you left a few things out of your story?”
“Umm… the short version is that Silas sort of saved me from the goblin zombies and offered to take me to the castle so I could go home if I’d take him with me. He did, I did, neither of us is stuck there now, unlike poor Amy.” Willow hoped that she could stave off the inevitable lecture and panic. Especially if she told the slightly gentled version of events. “And there’s the ice cream place.”
“Your life is definitely too interesting.” Anya smiled, before turning her attention to the menu.
“Is he going to hurt you, Wills?” Xander’s question was full of worry, lacking the outrage that Willow had been fearing.
“He won’t injure me. I’m hoping he won’t do anything else to hurt me either. I don’t think he’s entirely a bad guy, considering.” Willow tried to think positively, to hide any shred of doubt from Xander. She was also really enjoying this milk shake, the peach flavor just perfect… When had she started liking peach milk shakes anyhow?
“Let’s join that hope, as someone that could get killed if it’s wrong.” Xander sighed, licking at his cone.
Perhaps that was as close to a guarantee as they would get for Sunnydale. She was here, and as safe as anyone got in Sunnydale, and healthy. Her leg was better, her friendship with Xander was back, and she was getting to know Anya better. Silas was here, and apparently staying out of trouble.
Actually, Silas was walking off licking a chocolate ice cream cone. Since when did vampires like ice cream? Was he being influenced by those little willowy bits? How much had they both been changed by everything? Willow had the suspicion that Silas wasn’t staying in one of the cemeteries. He’d been in one for far to long. This was a new start for him… maybe for both of them, in a way. Maybe this was as close as the Hellmouth came to ‘and so they are to this very day’. No sappy couple, but they both managed to escape the terrible danger and go home, hopefully wiser for the experience.
~Fin~