The Seventh SlayerBy Kantayra
Chapter Twenty FiveFletcher turned off the viewscreen before him and sighed. It was the first moment of peace he’d had in over twenty-four hours, and he knew it wouldn’t last long.
Things were not going well. Isabelle was still missing, most likely taken by Alex. The very same Alex that he’d grown up with as a boy (well, OK, so he’d grown up twice as fast…), who had once been his best friend, who had been unwavering in his loyalty to their mission for every one of his fifty-four years. What on earth could possibly have possessed the man to do something this idiotic and out-of-character?
Fletcher’s mind quickly turned to more pressing matters. The nagging thought that somehow he’d managed to push Alex over to the Watchers’ side would only distract him right now.
The Witches were still no better. Lily was still trapped working in a shed in the middle on nowhere since the Opprimitae would possess her as well the instant she got within range. And now it looked as though all their Witches and Mages would become Opprimitae themselves if something wasn’t done fast.
Dawn’s brief message when she’d stopped by for more books (“We’re working on it.”) wasn’t exactly the most encouraging, either. That meant that they didn’t have a cure yet. And they only had until the Opprimitae took a breath in their bodies. No one knew exactly when that would happen, either. The whole situation was stressful in the extreme.
And it didn’t help that Beta and Gamma Teams hadn’t reported back in on that house in Virginia for almost an hour now. Honestly, what could be taking them this long? Fletcher didn’t really believe they’d found Isabelle and Alex; that was the kind of good luck SCBI just wasn’t having nowadays.
He leaned back in his chair, shut his eyes, and let out a deep sigh. Still, that ghost of a feeling that something was going terribly, horribly wrong right now wouldn’t go away.
And then the videophone rang, and he turned his full attention back to the emergency at hand…
* * *
Buffy and Spike watched as the magical energy cracked around their rings and faded. There was no place to go for shelter. An instinctive flinch against the sun’s rays and an instant locking of their hands as they prepared to turn to dust and…
Nothing.
The sun continued to beat down on them, and nothing happened. Not even the slightest sizzle.
They looked at each other, confused for a second, and then realization dawned in Spike’s eyes. Buffy raised one eyebrow in curiosity when he let out a bark of laughter, but he brushed her question aside, turning back to the three Mages and the two remaining mercenaries.
The head Mage was scrambling frantically through the book before her. “Why didn’t it work?!” she screamed out in accusation at her two companions. They looked just as surprised as she was. “Why didn’t it work, dammit?!”
Ajaya and Monica had relaxed their guard against the two beast-mercenaries, distracted by the danger Buffy and Spike were in. Ajaya’s guard took the opportunity to lunge at her.
The Slayer rolled to the side just in time, the man-beast’s claws grazing the arm that held her pike. She shifted in awkwardly into her left hand and prepared to fight him off that way.
However, she quickly got help. Spike tackled the mercenary from behind, his arm wrapping around its throat, squeezing. The creature clutched at its throat with both clawed hands, ripping at the flesh of Spike’s arms in a desperate attempt to get free.
It completely forgot about Ajaya.
She jabbed the sharp point of her pike straight through the monster’s heart, and it’s hands slowly felt from Spike’s arm, it’s eyes going gray and it’s head rolling back before it collapsed to the ground unconscious.
Across the battlefield, Monica’s dagger pierced the only remaining mercenary straight through the throat. She took a moment to center herself and catch her breath from the intensity of the battle.
Spike and Ajaya watched as, one by one, the mercenaries reverted to their human forms, the spell broken now that they all were dead.
As one, all four of the remaining members of SCBI turned to the three Mages, who were scrambling to summon up any kind of magical energy to defend themselves. They were all still too drained from the intensity of the spell that failed to even form a protective force-field, however.
Buffy grabbed the lead Mage. “No one tries to harm my mate!” she hissed through long fangs.
Ajaya flinched and looked away.
“You can turn back now,” Buffy informed her grimly after a moment.
Ajaya turned back to find that the lead Mage was now lying on the ground, her throat snapped. Her two apprentices had terrified eyes as wide as saucers as they looked to where Spike clutched both of their robes.
“Whadda we do with these two, Slayer?” he asked matter-of-factly.
“We only need one,” she said coldly. “Find out which one’s more willing to talk.”
One of the apprentices had the survival instinct to crack instantly; the other tried to hold out and met a quick death. Spike shackled the remaining apprentice, and the young Mage froze still in place until the magical hold of the cuffs.
“We’re lucky to be undead,” Buffy informed Spike softly, a tear leaking from the corner of her eye for the first time at the thought of what they’d almost lost.
He nodded numbly, the naked fear so plain in his eyes that anyone could see it.
Without the need for words, they met in the center, clutching each other tightly and sobbing softly. Monica and Ajaya politely turned away.
“Xeris needs medical attention,” Monica commented, walking over to him and flipping out her communicator as she did so. “Hey, cutie,” she said into the other end, a bit moved herself.
“What’s going on?” Nicolas asked worriedly, his brow furrowed with concern on the small video monitor. “There was an explosion and—”
“Watchers’ trap,” Monica informed him. “It’s all over now, but Xeris is injured. Can you fly the jet around to…”
“Pick him up,” Nicolas nodded, finishing her sentence for her. “I’ll be right there.”
Monica and Ajaya settled on either side of the fallen Velik Demon. Despite the wounds that would be quite fatal to any human, Xeris’ eyes were now open, and he watched them approach even though he still seemed unable to move.
“How do you feel?” Monica asked softly.
“It is the end,” Xeris let out a dramatic sigh. “I can feel my life fading even as we speak. The black hand of death has taken hold of my heart and—”
“You look fine,” Ajaya said confusedly.
Xeris seemed not to even hear her. “—But, at least, my death was not in vain, for we came from the battle victorious and—”
Monica rolled her eyes and gave Ajaya a small smile. “He does this every time he gets injured,” she quickly reassured the Slayer. “He’ll be just fine.”
“My debt of gratitude is finally repaid,” Xeris continued to drone on in the background. “My life for the lives of my people. My debt to your friendship…that can never fully be repaid, except with my own…”
“Love you, too,” Monica patted his hand reassuringly as the hovercraft pulled into view.
Buffy and Spike came over to join them, still wrapped almost impossibly up in the other’s embrace and talking quietly together, small smiles on their faces now.
The vehicle landed right beside them, and Buffy and Spike went in the open hangar-doors to grab a stretcher. Together, the four of them carefully moved Xeris onto it.
Monica quickly ran back to fetch their prisoner, while the remaining three moved Xeris inside. Despite the Velik Demon’s massive size, the three of them – and the large amounts of super-strength enclosed therein – had a fairly easy time carrying him back on board the shuttle.
Buffy carefully buckled the belts that fastened him securely to one of the medical beds.
Monica dumped the captured Mage in the corner and then took the opportunity to give Spike a sheepish smile and a quick hug. “Glad you’re still with us.”
“Me, too,” Ajaya agreed, settling for just a warm smile.
Spike sighed. “An’ just barely at that,” he said, still a bit shaken up at how close their encounter had really been.
Buffy turned to look at him then. “Why are we still here?” she demanded. “The Watchers usually don’t botch magic like that…”
“The cast the spell of the Ring of Amara, pet,” he informed her.
Buffy frowned for a second, and then her eyes widened. “Oh…” she said in realization, “Oh!”
Monica and Ajaya exchanged baffled looks. “I don’t get it,” they said in perfect unison.
Spike turned back to them while Buffy tended to Xeris. “The spell was specific,” he explained. “It would only work on a Ring of Amara.”
“And?” Monica demanded.
Spike held up the hand with his ring on it. “’S not the Ring of Amara,” he said simply.
Monica blinked. “Yes, it is,” she insisted.
Spike shook his head. “No,” he insisted, “’s a Ring of Gal-gaharisztic’xinarg.”
Ajaya frowned. “Then why do you call it the Ring of Amara?” she asked confusedly.
Buffy answered that one. “You try saying ‘Gali-whatsit’…”
“Gal-gaharisztic’xinarh,” Spike provided helpfully.
“Yeah,” Buffy nodded, “what he said.”
“But why call it ‘Amara’?” Monica asked curiously.
Buffy and Spike exchanged a glanced.
“Gem of Amara ‘ad similar properties,” Spike explained. “At least, the part ‘bout makin’ vampires immune to the sun, but ‘s long gone now…since someone saw fit to destroy it…” He cast an annoyed look in Buffy’s direction.
“I didn’t do it!” she insisted.
“No,” Spike scoffed, “but you handed right over to him. Plucked it right off my finger,” he huffed.
“You were trying to kill me!” Buffy exclaimed. “What did you except me to do?”
“Din’t have ta turn it over to the Poof,” he grumbled sullenly.
Monica and Ajaya had long since stopped listening to their private little argument.
“So, the Watchers didn’t know the Rings real name since every calls it ‘Amara’,” Ajaya said thoughtfully. She and Monica exchanged a look.
“Actually,” Monica began, “that’s kind of…”
“Hilarious?” Ajaya giggled.
Monica giggled as well. “Yeah, actually.”
They were both laughing together over in a corner and Buffy and Spike were still arguing heatedly, when Nicolas came back to see what was going on. He came to an abrupt halt when he saw Xeris lying there wounded.
Monica quickly went over to him and took his hand. “He’ll be fine,” she reassured him.
Nicolas nodded and nuzzled her hair gently. “You all right, my love?”
“Just some scratches,” Monica gestured to the fresh claw-marks on her shoulder.
Nicolas frowned for a second before taking them all in. “Where’s Gamma Team?” he finally asked.
Everyone exchanged guilty glances at having completely forgotten the other squad.
“They went around back,” Buffy quickly said. “We have to go check on them…”
Their worries turned into outright fears when they saw how much heavier the destruction was on this side of the building. Just as they were beginning to lose hope, however, a white figure appeared amidst the wreckage, waving at them frantically.
“That’s Siobhan!” Monica announced excitedly. “We need to land.”
“Yeah, but where?” Nicolas asked. “I don’t really want to land on top of anyone…”
Siobhan seemed to anticipate his problem, however, and began gesturing off to the left. Nicolas followed her instructions, and quickly everyone else had disembarked again.
A near-frantic Siobhan led them over to where Gamma Team had been at the time of the explosion. Expressions turned darker when everyone realized that Gamma Team had not fared nearly so well; Xeris’ injuries seemed mild by comparison.
Several were passed over quickly as already dead. Ajaya noted that Tyler was among these, and – even though she’d hadn’t known him long or well – she still felt a brief pang of grief.
Jeren was still alive. Just barely. He was by far the worst off of the survivors, probably because he had been closest to the building at the time. They brought him back to the jet first, and Xeris gave up his bed willingly when he saw how badly off the D’vorak Demon was.
The rest of the survivors were brought in next, followed by the corpses. Everyone remained silent throughout the proceedings, and they returned home solemnly…
* * *
Lily grimaced when the answer she’d been searching for finally presented itself.
Melissa noticed her reaction and nudged Dawn. The two of them looked to her nervously.
“We’re going to have to kill the circle of Mages that cast the spell,” Lily said simply. “It’s the only way to release their hold on the Opprimitae…unless they do it willingly…”
“Which really doesn’t seem likely, does it?” Dawn agreed.
Lily nodded. “But I found the spell to control free Opprimitae,” she said somewhat hopefully. “If we can get the Watchers’ Mages out of the way, I can free all the Witches.”
“Does it say there how long we have?” Melissa asked, checking her watch nervously.
“ ‘One breath’,” Lily repeated all the other texts they’d read ruefully. “We still have no clue what that means…”
“Then we’d better hurry and find those Mages,” Dawn said.
Lily’s brow furrowed. “They’re probably among the Watchers’ top ones,” she commented. “They’ll be almost impossible to find without help…”
* * *
The captured Mage glanced around the empty room nervously, not knowing what was coming exactly but confidant that it would be terrible. He tugged at the ropes that bound his wrists, but he was only a Level Four apprentice and thus had no chance in hell of overcoming the spells placed upon his binds and the room without help.
So, he continued to sit and wait.
He had heard rumors about these people, of course. They consorted with demons, of all things. Strange, unnatural people that went against the light of Good itself.
He wondered what they’d do to him. He’d heard stories, whispers… Feed him to their legions of vampire warriors, perhaps? Dissect him and use his parts to cast dark curses? Let their Vengeance Demons emasculate him? Put him into an arena for wild Boarhounds to rip to shreds?
His panic had reached feverish proportions by the time the door at the end of the room opened, and a man stepped inside. The man didn’t even bother to look in his direction as he pulled the one empty chair from the corner of the room, carried in over so that it was seated about ten feet in front of him, and calmly sat down. The man fixed him with the cold stare over wire-rimmed glasses for a second before speaking.
“My name is Fletcher Price,” the man said stonily. “You’ve heard of me, I take it?”
The Mage nodded numbly. He was so dead. The defected Watcher himself. He was supposed to have all sorts of dark powers, wasn’t he?
“And you are Mr. Gardner,” Fletcher went on. “Am I correct?”
Gardner nodded numbly. The ex-Watcher must have been reading his mind; there was no explanation…
Fletcher silently thanked the computer Isabelle had stolen – and the complete listing of Watchers’ personnel therein – and continued his interrogation. “You are a Mage?”
Nervous nod.
“Level Four?”
Again a nod.
“Are you one of those controlling the Opprimitae?” Fletcher demanded.
Gardner started at him in amazement. How did he know that…?
“I’m waiting for your answer, Mr. Gardner,” Fletcher said impatiently.
“N-No,” Gardner vehemently shook his head, “I-I’m not strong enough to…”
“It wasn’t your circle then?” Fletcher repeated.
“No,” Gardner agreed.
Fletcher jotted something down on the pad before him. “Moving along then,” he said with false pleasantry, “where are the Mages who cast the spell?”
“I-I’m not sure,” Gardner insisted.
Fletcher frowned but let it pass. “Where are the Watchers holding the Slayer, Isabelle?”
Gardner refused to meet in his eyes.
“Ah,” Fletcher said in understanding, “they’re in the same place then.”
“I didn’t say that!” Gardner demanded nervously.
Fletcher leaned in, their faces only inches apart. “Where. Are. They?” he demanded coldly.
“Th-They’ll kill me if they found out I told!” Gardner exclaimed fearfully.
“I see,” Fletcher backed off and walked over to the door. He stuck his head out for a second while Gardner shifted nervously in his bonds. When Fletcher returned, he had that same monster with him that had captured Gardner in the first place.
“Spike, meet Mr. Gardner,” Fletcher said conversationally, gesturing to the bound Mage. “Mr. Gardner, this is Spike…although you probably know him better as William the Bloody…”
Spike flashed his fangs at this point, and Gardner gulped and shrunk back in his chair. “He not talkin’?” Spike asked menacingly. “’E said he would…an’ I hate liars…”
“The Hellmouth!” Gardner practically screeched.
Fletcher and Spike exchanged glances.
“Which one?” Fletcher demanded…
* * *
Isabelle and Alex turned when the door opened and West entered. Alex stood, but West quickly gestured for him to leave.
“Go now,” West ordered. “You’re not wanted here.”
Alex frowned but moved to the door. He cast one last look back at the very terrified Isabelle before shutting the door behind him.
“And you, my dear,” West sneered, “are coming with me. The time for the ritual is at hand…”
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