The Circle of Slayers Series 11/35 Incomplete
Chapter 11: Allure
By Denna at dennaseer@hotmail.com
Rated NC-17 for sex and violence, baby!
Keywords: Buffy and Spike…what else could there be?
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. They belong to Joss Whedon. Yadda
yadda yadda.
Summary for Chapter 11: Buffy encounters Riley in a strange frightening new
world.


Chapter 11: Allure

    Riley stared at her in shock. “You don’t know anything? Not even your
name?”

    Buffy wrinkled her brow as she tried to remember her name. It just wouldn’t
come to her. It was as if her mind was trapped in some impenetrable fog, one
that showed glimpses of faded images, but which passed by so quickly that
she could not grab onto them.

    She shook her head. “Well…I know that two plus two is four and lemons are
sour and the capital of Canada is Ottawa. But my name…” She climbed to her
feet and gazed around the room, “What is this place?”

    “It’s our home,” Riley said. Well, it was sort of the truth. It wasn’t
exactly his real home, but rather one he’d created with that lovely staff of
his. He felt comforted at the thought that her pesky little brat pack would
never be able to find her. They didn’t even know where to look.

    “Why is it so gloomy?” she asked. She wandered around the room taking in
the furnishings. The walls and tables were polished black wood and the floor
was ebony marble. A large bed sat in a corner with red satin sheets and a
fireplace burned with a deep maroon glow. The upholstered couches and chairs
were covered in dark wine red and there were several rugs on the floor of
the same color. Here and there were touches of gold: the lamps on the tables
and the candleholders over the fireplace. A large gold candelbra sat in the
middle of a huge black table set to one side.

    “Gloomy?” he asked her, “I think it’s…restful.”

    She shivered. “I don’t. I think it’s…dark.” Buffy hugged herself. “I’m
cold.”

    Riley crossed the room to her. He took her small hand and drew her to the
fireplace. “Come over here. Let me warm you up.” Buffy stared at the
unnatural glow…it was a deep blood red.

    He led her to the nearby sofa and sat down. The soldier pulled her down
next to him and deftly wrapped his arm around her. As he fingers closed over
her left arm, he felt the cold band on her wrist.

    “Here,” he said. “You don’t need that.” For some odd reason, he felt
threatened by the metal encased in her wrist. It could trigger memories of
that blonde idiot. He touched the band on her wrist and drew back in pain as
it seared his fingers.

    “What was that?” she asked, bewildered. She pulled her hand close to
herself and held it, running her hands over the gold.

    Nursing his singed fingers, Riley peered at the wristband. “I don’t know.”
He said. He could sense some unspeakable power encased inside the band, and
he knew that he wanted it off. “Tell you what, take it off and let me see
it.” He held out his hand to her.

    “No,” Buffy said, feeling suddenly very protective of it, “It’s mine.”

    “It’s nothing,” he answered, “Just let me see it for a second.”

    “I said no. It’s on my wrist so that means it belongs to me. Maybe it’s the
only thing that can connect me to my past.”

    “Your past?” Riley asked smoothly, “But I’m your past.” He placed a hand on
her chin and moved it so she could stare into the truth in his eyes. “You
just don’t remember.” He grazed her cheek with his fingertips, lightly
tracing the contour of bone there. She shivered at his touch, closing her
eyes and leaning into it. There was a touch of familiarity and comfort at
his warm touch…something out of reach, but there.

    He drew his fingers down her neck and further, towards the hollow of her
throat and the valley between her breasts. He eyes flickered open and she
stared into his blue eyes. “Help me remember.” She voiced huskily.

    Smiling, he nodded and leaned forward. Gently, he touched his lips to hers,
opening them slightly and tugging at her lips. She gasped and let him force
them open so he could slide his tongue into her mouth. He kissed her
tenderly at first, then with growing passion. His hands moved across her
body, down her sides and around to her back. Supporting her, he pushed her
downward so she was lying on the sofa and he was halfway on top of her. He
left off kissing her mouth to leave a trail of soft kisses along her jawline
and down her throat. He paused at the hollow of her throat to lightly stroke
her skin with his tongue; she gasped and brought her hands to the back of
his head, tangling her fingers in his silky, dirty blonde hair. He moved
lower, lightly mouthing the expanse of chest exposed by the neckline of the
dress and further-

    She arched her back as he kissed her between her breasts; her breathing was
coming harsh and shallow through slightly parted lips. Riley, taking this as
encouragement, moved his attention to her left breast while her brought
another hand to cup it from underneath. Slowly, he told himself, he had
plenty of time. He pushed against the fabric of her dress, seeking the soft
sensitive flesh beneath it.

    As Riley touched her and kissed her in a countless different ways, the
feeling of comfort and familiarity began to slowly fade away. What had once
been tender touches was now vicious pawing. His touch was becoming more
needy, rough and primal. This felt wrong. This didn’t feel like what he was.

    “N-no!” she stuttered, suddenly pushing him away, “Please, stop!” She sat
up and pulled away, moving to the far end of the sofa. She leaned forward
around her arms and stared at the floor.

    Hiding a frown, Riley moved closer to her. She didn’t look up. “What’s
wrong?” he asked.

    “I-I don’t even know who you are! Your name! My name, for that matter.” She
stared up at him, confusion clouding her hazel eyes.

    “I am your husband,” he told her simply, reaching out and taking hold of
her chin, “And you are my wife.” The lie came easily.

    “But who #are# you?” she demanded, “What’s your name?”

    He hesitated before answering. Would his name trigger memories? He would
have to risk it. “My name’s Riley,” he said, “And you’re Buffy.” He watched
her eyes for any sign of recognition.

    Her brows drew together as she frowned in concentration. “Riley…” she
whispered, “Buffy…” She pushed her fingers to her temples as she tried to
remember. “Aaargh! This is so frusturating! It’s like everything is just out
of reach!”

    Riley reached forward and took her hands in his. “Shh…” he whispered,
drawing her into his arms. “Don’t push. Things will come back in time.” He
stroked her hair gently as he held her. However, she remained stiff and
unresponsive.

    Eventually, however, she relaxed into his warm embrace. As she did, he
pulled her close and tilted her head up. She had her eyes closed and her
face was slightly flushed. He leaned down and brought his mouth to hers.

    This time she responded, moving closer to him and wrapping her arms around
his neck. His arms went around her slim waist as he pulled her onto his lap.
She buried her fingers into his collar as she kissed him passionately. He
was startled at her sudden ardor; she was like a fire that threatened to
consume him. He resisted; he needed to stay in control. He remembered the
strong will and strength of the small woman that he had so fallen in love
with. He knew that she would be his.

    She pulled the man who was her husband down on top of her and kissed him
hard and roughly. This had to be right…right? He was her husband, someone
who obviously cared about her and the only one who could supply her memory.
But something still did not seem quite right.

    ‘Well…you just lost your memory, girl,’ she thought to herself, ‘I’m pretty
sure having the jitters after that is quite natural.’ She ignored the part
of her mind that told her this was wrong and let herself melt into his body.
Shocks of pleasure raced through her body as Riley explored it with his
hands. And yet, accompanying the pleasure was a vague revulsion. A sense
that she was betraying someone. That she was being…manipulated.

    Shoving those thoughts aside, she instead concentrated on the desire she
felt. He was kissing her again and she moaned softly as his hands moved down
her body and slid the hem of her dress up her leg. The air felt chill
against her bare leg and she crushed it closer to him for warmth. He laid
his hand on her outer thigh and moved it where he slipped it underneath and
pulled her leg up. Moving downward slightly, he kissed her neck while he
brought his delicate touch to the inside of her knee and up…

    Something exploded behind her eyes. Buffy stiffened and her eyes flew open
as what should have been the ceiling but was a discontinuation of the room.

    Her breath caught in her throat and her heart felt as if it ceased to beat.
A pleasurable coolness flooded her body and everything was still. The flood
of sensations lead her along some sort of path, where she could not find the
end. Yet, the sensations had a familiar shape to them, something much more
familiar and comforting than Riley, her husband. As she concentrated on it,
the shape solidified into a man with tear stained steel blue eyes and
tousled bleach blonde hair. He wore a long black leather coat and a gold
band flickered from under the sleeve on his left hand. Her heart leapt in
her throat as new emotions rushed into her body. Uncontrollable grief and
sorrow, hope and need. Wordlessly, she cried out as she reached along the
bond to him.

    She felt him speak in her mind. The shape and feel of a thousand different
emotions. #Where are you, Buffy? Tell me where you are and I’ll find you!#
The joy at his presence was intense; she could see him, hear him, feel him,
smell him and even taste him. Every one of her senses felt alive, screaming
for release. But…she could not remember who this man was or why she felt so
much for him. Why couldn’t she remember!?

    In frustration, she shouted down the link, #Who are you!?#

    Then it was gone. His face and presence disappeared all too quickly,
replaced by Riley’s confused eyes staring down at her.

    “Buffy?” he asked.

    “No!” she shouted and pulled up her leg. Planting it in his chest, she
pushed him off her. Scrambling backwards, she tumbled off the sofa. She
backed away from him, crabwise, until she came up against a chair. Using it
to support herself, and while never taking her eyes off Riley, she levered
herself off the floor. “Who are you?” she demanded, “You’re not who you say
you are! I don’t belong here!”

    Riley picked himself up from where she had pushed him and brushed himself
off. “Have your memories come back?” he asked worriedly.

    “That doesn’t matter!” she shouted, panic rising in her voice, “I’m not
supposed to be here! Bring me back to wherever I came from!”

    Riley’s lips curved upwards in a sinister smile. “You belong here. With me.
That’s all you need to know.”

    “No!” she shouted once more. She whirled around and ran for the door.

    “Buffy!” he shouted at her, but she ignored him. She felt his hand grasp
onto her shoulder and she turned and stuck out with her foot with surprising
strength. She didn’t take the time to understand where it had come from as
she watched Riley fall backwards onto the floor a couple feet away. Grabbing
her chance, she yanked open the door and peered into a thick darkness. She
stared around and grabbed one of the balls of light that surrounded the
walls, surprisingly cold. She took more time to run into the dark, her shoes
clicking on the hard floor.

    Quickly, she hurried along the dark corridor, her fear rising at the sound
of hurried footsteps behind her. She ran down numerous hallways, taking them
randomly to throw off her pursuer.

    Her breath came out in ragged sobs as she realized she had no idea where
she was. She tried a handle to one of the numerous doors that lined the
corridor and rushed inside. The room, like the rest of this dismal place,
was formed of black marble floors and ebony wood walls. It was completely
empty, even of dust. For some reason, the alien cleanliness of the room
frightened her. She leaned against the far wall and slid to the floor.
Drawing her knees up, she rested her head on them and watched as the ball of
light slowly dimmed and weakened. Now that she was alone she remembered the
face she had seen only a few minutes before. She knew him and she also knew
that he meant a great deal to her. But who was he? What had happened to make
her see him? Could she do it as well?

    Burying her face in her black-gloved hands, she took several shaky breaths.
She’d rest here for a while, then try and find a way out of this place.
Maybe he would find her again. This time, she vowed, she would be ready.

    As the ball of light on the floor beside her dimmed and finally winked out,
she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. As the shadows closed in
upon her, her last thoughts were of the strange blonde man in the long black
coat.

 

The Circle of Slayers Series 12/35 Incomplete
Chapter 12: Find A Way
By Denna at dennaseer@hotmail.com
Rated
Keywords: Buffy and Spike…what else could there be?
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. They belong to Joss Whedon. Yadda
yadda yadda.
Summary for Chapter 12: With help from the Scoobies, Spike gets a plan to
save Buffy. If you’re curious, Sahalia is Swahili for light and Kivuli is
Swahili for shadow. Also Twin Mountain is a real town in New Hampshire.
You’ll understand if you keep on reading…


Chapter 12: Find A Way

Sunday, November 25th, 9:31 PM

    How long he sat there in the bar, unmoving and unseeing he didn’t know. The
shock of feeling Buffy and of her questioning his identity had shaken him to
the core. What would he do if Buffy couldn’t remember him? Was it really
that she didn’t know who he was or she didn’t recognize the Soulbond? No…it
didn’t matter. She would know who he was as he had known it was her.

    He heard a couple footsteps behind him and realized that it was around the
time when the rowdy annoying demons came for drinks. He knew for sure that
he did not want to be around that. Demons and vampires were beginning to
fill up the bar stools and Willy ran out to the bar as soon as he heard them
come in. Sighing, he stood and quietly left Willy’s Bar; whatever peace he
had found there was gone.

    Outside, the moon was rapidly rising in the sky and the air had turned
chill. He shivered, but not from the cold, as he walked through the
lengthening shadows back to his crypt. As he reached the large cemetery, he
paused and stared at the tombstones and shadows. Strange how he had never
really noticed how dark and foreboding this place was. Full of death, both
walking and resting. Frowning, he maneuvered through the tombstones to his
crypt. Several hunting vampires let him pass by with hardly a glance.

~

    “This is not good.” Willow stated the obvious. She and Tara had returned
from their research at the Magic Box only to find Spike was not at his
crypt. “That sword of his is gone and his coat’s gone too.”

    Tara looked worried. “Are you sure?”

    The Wicca shook her head. “No, but the way Spike was this morning, he would
have done anything to find Buffy. I was afraid something like this might
happen.”

    “You don’t really think he would just leave like that, do you, Willow?”
Tara asked.

    “This is Spike, Tara,” Willow replied, “He acts first and thinks later – if
he remembers to think at all that is. And he isn’t the mope around type. And
you know how devoted he is to Buffy.”

    The shy witch nodded, her eyes downcast, “He’s lost without her…” she said
softly, reminding them both of the hard weeks after Buffy’s death. “He was
so…angry this morning…like he was ready to tear someone’s throat out.”

    “He was.” Willow nodded, “You should have been around when he really was
evil.” Sighing, the redhead nodded and ran a hand through her hair, “We have
to go find him. He can’t be too far away, not if he walked.”

    She turned and walked toward the crypt door, Tara following behind. “You go
check Buffy’s house and the Magic Box. Maybe the others have seen him. I’ll
look around the cemetery. Maybe he’s worked up his frustration on some poor
hell beasties.”

    Wincing at the image, Tara nodded, “Okay. I’ll meet you here back here if I
don’t find anything.” She squeezed Willow’s hand reassuredly and they turned
opposite ways as they went outside.

~

    Willow hurriedly walked through the cemetery. This really was not good.
Where could the vampire have gone? She had expected Spike to take off for a
while, but in the frame of mind he had been in there was no telling what he
could do. She prayed to herself that she would find him soon as she walked
around the corner of a mausoleum.

    And ran into Spike.

    The Wicca staggered backwards in fright but Spike caught her arms before
she could pull out the stake in her back pocket.

    “Spike!” she shouted out.

    “Good thing I haven’t lost my touch yet, Red,” Spike answered.

    “Where have you been?” Willow berated him anxiously, “I have been looking
all over for you!”

    “I went for a walk, Warden,” Spike said in a flat voice. He passed the girl
and kept on walking towards his crypt. Willow sighed loudly and followed
him.

    When Spike entered the crypt he didn’t bother to take off his duster but
just dropped on his chair and leaned back with his hands behind his head.

    “That was a long walk,” Willow said shutting the door behind her, “We came
back from the Magic Box and your weapons were gone and we thought-“

    “Oh yeah, my sword…” Spike said softly. He had probably left it there
yesterday in the cemetery. Oh well, he could always get a new one. Out loud
he said, “Just went for a walk, Red. No need to get your knickers in a
twist. Went to see a couple friends and stopped at Willy’s.”

    “The bar? What for?” Willow asked, but the corrected herself, “Oh yeah…the
ritual drowning of the sorrows…forgot.”

    Spike shrugged and shifted in his seat, “Just needed a place to think.”

    Willow watched him carefully. They were right to be worried about the
blonde vampire. She could hardly believe this was the same guy who had
danced so joyfully with Buffy the other night. She didn’t know which was
worse: the anger and frustration of this morning or the empty defeat in his
eyes now. He was a far cry from the swaggering, arrogant laid back jackass
they had actually grown to depend on and care for after Buffy’s death.
During that summer, Spike had been a stabilizing factor: it was his strength
that had kept Dawn going. He even kept herself from flying off the handle
sometimes and provided valuable insight when things got rough. Willow
sighed. She was surprised to realize that it almost hurt to see him pain and
she remembered with distinction how happy Buffy had been with him last
night.

    “Did you find anything?”

    The Wicca jumped at the sound of Spike’s baritone voice, “Oh…yeah. The
staff that Riley has. It’s called the Ausi. It was originally created by
shamans in the Pygmy Tribes of Belize. They believed that the Ausi was a
tool of the gods and it would lead them to victory. The staff had awesome
power. The power to negate and manipulate dimensional portals. With that
kind of power you could create dimensional pockets to hide in from
enemies…open a portal which could send extreme power outward like that wind
he sent at us yesterday and start fires and things like that by manipulating
the intensity of reality. But that kind of power has a really big cost. It
changes the person that wields it, gradually feeding off their humanity.
Riley must have found the staff and now it’s taken over him and… you know
how much he loves Buffy. The Ausi could have helped him go to extreme
measures to find her.”

    Spike closed his eyes and sighed and after a moment Willow continued.

    “But that’s all we found out. We don’t know how to fight him. There’s a
possibility that Riley may have taken Buffy into a dimensional pocket to
hide her there. But there are millions of different holes in dimensions that
he could hide in. We don’t know exactly where Buffy is.”

    “I can help there.” Still that same, flat voice.

    “Look, Spike, we already went over this. You are not going to find anything
around here, especially not in the Initiative Caves.”

    The vampire sat up and shook his head, “That’s not what I mean, Red. I can
find her through the Soulbond.”

    “Soulbond?” Willow stared at Spike, “You two are bonded? But – how’s that
possible? I thought that was an Elven practice only and that must mean-“

    “No, I’m not a bloody elf.” Spike groaned, “It’s practiced by Elves but it
doesn’t just mean that they can do it.” He gestured to the band on his
wrist, “She has another wristband like mine. They connect us together.”

    “Omigod…” Willow whispered as she realized there was a lot she needed to
learn about Buffy and Spike. “That must mean that you and Buffy are…” She
didn’t finish and just let the thought of those fall into her head.

    Praying for understanding, Willow moved forward toward Spike and fixed him
with a pointed stare. “Is it true what I’ve heard about Soulbonds. That you
can speak to each other through them?”

    Spike shook his head. “Way off, luv. I can’t just click my heels together
and Buffy’s mind suddenly pops into my head. I can…feel her…what she’s
feeling, her essence…her soul. It’s like I’m inside her.” He hung his head.
“That’s what I was trying to do at Willy’s…speak to her.”

    Sensing the mournful tone to his voice, the witch spoke up, “Did something
happen?”

    Before Spike could answer, the crypt door opened on them, “I can’t find him
anywhere, Will, it’s like he disappeared off the face of the pla-Oh.” Tara
stopped in her tracks when she saw Spike sitting in his armchair. “Spike’s
here.”

    Willow walked up to her and took her hand in hers, and smiled at her, “Hey
honey.” The redhead turned back to Spike and spoke, “What happened, Spike?”

    “I-I was talking to her,” Tara looked questioningly at Willow then Spike,
but the vampire kept on speaking. He shook his head in frustration, “I don’t
know how to explain it. We touched, but we didn’t. I could feel her…inside
me.”

    Willow whispered to Tara about the Soulbond as Spike drew into silence.
Tara had a shocked look on her face but put it aside as they turned to Spike
once more.

    “She didn’t know who I was…” he said in a low voice, “It was like I was a
bleedin’ stranger.” He sighed shakily and put his head in his hands.

    Both Tara and Willow looked at each other worriedly. Tara swallowed
nervously and walked toward the armchair. She rested her hand nervously on
the back of the chair and spoke, “M-maybe it’s not what you think. It could
be that she doesn’t understand what a Soulbond is.”

    “She would know.”

    “Then she was scared or in sho-“ Tara offered.

    “There’s no way that she would not know.” Spike growled, his voice lowering
to an even more deadly pitch. His brows drew together, “I know you’re trying
to cheer me up, witch, but she didn’t know who I bloody well was!”

    Willow glanced over at Tara with a frown on her face. The fair-haired Wicca
nervously backed off toward her lover as Willow’s face set on a more
determined stride.

    “Spike! Get yourself together! God, you’re reminding me of Angel with all
this brooding!”

    Spike blinked hard and sat up, gazing at the redhead, “Now, don’t compare
me to that soddin’ ponce!”

    “Oh and why not? I can understand you being sad over this but all you do is
walk around and stare at walls like the whole world is falling apart! The
Spike I know would at least resort to senseless violence! You should know
that true love can turn around even the most hopeless situations!” She
reached forward and grabbed his hands, holding them tight as she looked
straight into his eyes, “No matter what Riley has done to her, Buffy will
always know who you are – because she loves you! You have this Soulbond for
a reason you stupid vampire! Now use it!”

    Spike swallowed. He glanced over at Tara, who had the beginnings of a
rueful smile on her face. Finding no help there, Spike turned back to the
witch. “Uh…”

    “I may not like the idea of you and Buffy having a…thing. But I don’t have
much of a choice.” Willow told him, all melodramatics gone, “Buffy will know
you.”

    Relaxing, he squeezed her hands tightly, “Whatever you say, Red.” He smiled
at her; the first actual smile he had had all day.

    Tara spoke up. “Well…if we have a way of finding Buffy, all we need to do
now is some way to fight him.”

    The vampire nodded and stood up, releasing Willow’s hands. He wandered over
to the T.V where he had stored a few leaves of paper Buffy left behind from
her research session. He picked up one of the papers and started to read it,
remembering that she had been researching swords while Willow and Tara
discussed in the background. He set the paper down and picked up another,
“If I had one of these swords-“ Stopping suddenly, he spread the leaves out
in front of him, “What if I did have one of these swords? That would even up
the odds with the pillock.”

    “What are you talking about?” Willow asked, approaching the T.V where the
research rested.

    Tara hurried over. “What swords, Spike?” She picked up a piece of paper
while Willow leafed through some more. They started reading them over,
frowning at Buffy’s sprawling, careless handwriting.

    “Buffy was researching swords here a while back,” Spike explained, “Said
she wanted to give me a ‘real’ weapon to fight magic baddies with. And she’s
got quite the list here. There’s probably one here that will let me skin
that whitebread’s cardboard ass.” He picked up the list of swords that Buffy
had made and read the first name. “Demon Blade. Sounds fun.”

    “No.” Tara exclaimed, “You don’t want that one, Spike. It’s evil. Whenever
blood is shed with that sword, it summons demons to destroy everything in
its wake except for the wielder of the sword. It would kill Riley and
Buffy.”

    “I guess that’s why it’s scratched out, huh?” Spike said, looking down the
list, “Next is ‘Soul Slayer’. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that’s
evil too.”

    Willow nodded, “It is. It devours the soul of who it kills.”

    “Then why don’t we use it?” Spike asked. “It’s not like he’s using it.”

    “Riley may be evil right now,” Willow continued, “but it’s because he is
possessed by the Ausi. He still has his soul. He’s still Riley deep down
inside. We don’t want to destroy him.”

    Just when Spike was about to make a smart comeback, Tara shuddered and
spoke, “Why do people make things like that? It’s horrible.”

    “When people can’t get what they want, sometimes they’ll do anything to get
it, luv. It’s the way things are.” Spike answered, never looking up from the
pages. “What about Xkavier?”

    The two Wiccans hunted through the notes. Tara found it and together they
both scanned through the information written down. Willow sighed. “It’s one
of those stupid fairy tale ones. You know, fall asleep for a thousand years
only to be awoken by true love’s kiss? You have to find it to wake up some
musty princess and her knights. Another misadventure, another time. Next!”

    Spike scanned the paper once more calling out the names of what he saw,
“What about Firedrake, Elidor, Doppleblade?”

    More searching. “The first one has been long gone for the last four
hundred years.” Tara said as she set aside another piece of paper. Spike
scratched it out.

    “The second, Elidor, is a dark elf’s blade-“ Willow read.

    Spike shook his head, “Don’t buy anything from a dark elf.” He scratched
out the name.

    “What’s wrong with dark elves?” Willow asked.

    “They’re dark. Dark as in bad.” Spike told her.

    “What was the other sword?” Tara asked.

    “Uh…” Spike consulted the list. “Doppleblade.”

    She shook her head. “I’ve heard of that one. It just throws phantoms of the
wielder to throw off their opponent. Riley would see through that in a
second with his staff.”

    Sighing, the vampire crossed out the entry. “Do any of these swords
actually do what a sword is supposed to do? Magic is too much work if you
ask me. Well, that leaves only three. Sahalia, Kivuli, and Belgarion’s
Blade.”

    More rustling as they shifted through the notes. Things were beginning to
look hopeless when Tara found a stray yellow sticky that had been tucked
into a book. It had the names “Sahalia” and “Kivuli” at the top. Instead of
a listing of its magical properties like the others had it just cited a
reference.

    Willow found the cite in the small pile of books that Buffy had obviously
left in her haste to return back home. She opened the cited book and
searched through it to the right page. Instead of immediately dismissing the
names like they had done before, she sat up on the sarcophagus and began
reading the text.

    “Did you find something, hon?” Tara asked.

    “Hold a sec,” Willow replied absently, holding up a hand for them to be
patient. Both Tara and Spike crowded around him as they tried to read the
book.

    “Will, do you think this could be the one?” Tara asked after scanning the
page briefly over her lover’s shoulder.

    “Listen to this,” Willow told them, “The sword, Sahalia, just might be the
one we’re looking for. The two swords, Sahalia and Kivuli, are actually twin
blades, opposite of each other.”

    “And what’s so special about them?” Spike asked, his patience wearing thin.

    “Hold on,” Willow replied, skimming through the next couple pages, “Ah,
here we go. According to this, no one actually knows for sure Kivuli’s
magical properties are as no one has been able to claim the sword from its
resting place.” She read on in silence. Spike and Tara watched her face
closely and soon the excited glow that they were so used to when the redhead
found something shone upon her face. “This might actually work!” She laid
the book on her lap and looked at the two of them. “Sahalia has several
magical qualities. First, it’s spelled to stay sharp so no matter what it’s
going to be in tip top shape. It also protects the wielder from magical
attacks though only for a limited time…. and it also enhances speed and
reflexes.”

    “That’s great, Willow,” Tara exclaimed excitedly. Then her face fell. “But
is it enough to stop Riley?”

    Holding up a finger, Willow continued, “But check this out, it has the
power to negate dimensional states.”

    “It can?” Tara said. She seemed excited by that bit of information.

    “Sorry Wiccans,” Spike interrupted, “But I left my Witch to Vampire
Dictionary at home. What the soddin’ hell are you two talking about?”

    “It can keep Riley from phasing in and out of our reality,” Tara explained,
turning towards him, “He’d be forced to fight on this plane of existence
only.”

    Spike felt hope bloom inside of him. “All right then, where is this
wonderful sword?”

    Tara took the book from Willow gently and began reading through the text.
“It says here that it’s in a temple outside the town of Twin Mountain, New
Hampshire…and…the sword can only be retrieved from its sacred resting place
on the night of the full moon…and even than it requires great magic to find
it.”

    “Oh no…” Willow sighed shakily, “Last night was the full moon. Oh god,
Buffy…”

    Spike, with a look of shocked resignation on his face, numbly slumped into
his armchair. He looked back up at Tara, “Are you saying that I have to wait
a bleedin’ month to save Buffy? I have to leave her with that twisted
pillock who will do god knows what to her? There has to be another way!”
Spike could not help from yelling and Tara and Willow winced at the raw rage
in his words.

    After a few silent moments of shifting through new lists and texts to find
only useless weapons and spells, Tara sighed. Willow still sat on the
sarcophagus staring blankly into space, as was Spike with his fingers
clenched into fists.

    Tara was the first to speak. “Spike,” she said in that gentle maternal
voice of hers, “Buffy is the Slayer. She’s strong. She can take care of
herself. We all know that.”

    He remained silent and stared at the blank dark screen of his television
set.

    Tara looked over to Willow, whose eyes were brimming with tears and
threatening to spill down her cheeks. Tara walked over to her and kissed her
softly, brushing her fingers through her soft hair. Willow smiled and took
her hand.

    “New Hampshire?” Spike spoke suddenly, startling both the Wiccans. “The
temple is in New Hampshire?”

    “Y-yes.” Tara answered.

    “And it requires great magic to find the sword? How much?”

    “I don’t know…someone with experience with magic and strong and capable
enough to use it.”

    “Like two Lover Wiccans hell bent on getting their best friend back?”

    Willow and Tara stared at each other and then nodded, “I think that’s more
than enough magic to find a pointy metal stick.” Willow answered.

    “How long would it take us to get to Twin Mountain?” Spike asked.

    “Well, New Hampshire is kinda on the other side of the country and even by
car it would probably take two weeks to get there. It might take us a few
days to find the temple since it’s outside the town and in the mountains.
And the weather might be bad, I mean it’s winter up there.” Tara deduced.

    He nodded, his face grim, “We’re going as soon as we can. When can we get
started?”

    Tara thought for a moment, still staring down at the books. “It’s high up
in the mountains so we’ll need plenty of supplies, proper clothing and we
will probably have to buy some new magic tools and herbs. You probably
should give your car a tune up. And then we have to get this through to the
others and plan it together. I think three days would be pretty generous.”

    Standing up, Spike looked up at them, his face full of grim determination.
“Let’s get ready, then. In three days we leave.”