The Circle of Slayers Series 27/35 Incomplete
Chapter 27: Dance with the Devil
By Denna at dennaseer@hotmail.com
Rated PG-13 for violence
Keywords: Buffy and Spike…what else could there be?
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. They belong to Joss Whedon.
Jar’vees belongs to me. I love feedback, by the way.
Summary for Chapter 27: It is finally time to get Buffy back, but are Spike,
the witches and Dawn ready for the challenge?
Chapter 27: Dance with the Devil
“At the still point of destruction,
At the center of the fury,
All the angels and the devils,
All around us can’t you see?
There is a deeper wave than this,
Rising in the land,
There is a deeper wave than this,
Nothing will withstand,
I say love is the seventh wave.”
Love is the Seventh Wave– Sting
Saturday, December 29th, 8:51 PM
“Again.”
Spike effortlessly finished the follow-through of the set of exercises and
stepped into the familiar pattern without missing a beat. He remained aware
of himself, the sword and its surroundings. It felt strange – a kind of
dualism that he had grown accustomed to but unnerving all the same. He’d
learned to control his uneasiness, however, and to accept it.
“Good,” Jar’vees said as the vampire finished the set of exercises. “Now
again only this time spar with me.” The Priest stepped forward and lifted
his crescent-tipped staff.
The blonde vampire swung the white blade of Sahalia around, up, and brought
it down onto Jar’vees’ staff. The shorter man thrust upwards as they went
through the choreographed paces. Spike grimaced as Sahalia pleaded with him
to set it free, to deal with this threat in a proper way.
“Fight it,” Jar’vees commanded as he saw Spike’s control waver. “Keep the
sword reined in at all times. You are the Master. It is but a tool.” This
litany had become a familiar counterpart to their sparring sessions.
Spike strengthened his will, bending the sword’s to his own, making it obey
him. He managed, but it didn’t feel right. Something was wrong…
Not with the sword, he thought. Sahalia was a magnificent blade and he knew
it enabled him to be faster and stronger than ever – which was no mean feat.
But – controlling it in the manner Jar’vees had drilled him into seemed
wrong. Forcing it into patterns it was never meant to fit seemed to…hurt it.
And him in a strange, disconnected way. The problem was he couldn’t put it
into words so he couldn’t even begin to explain it to Jar’vees or the
others. He just knew it wasn’t right. He may be the century-old killer here,
but he was the odd man out when it came to magic, so he said nothing.
Jar’vees had to be right…wasn’t he?
Still it didn’t feel right…
The vampire and the priest finished the exercise and stepped apart. Spike
lowered his sword and Jar’vees inclined his head in respect. His hair was
definitely much darker than the shining silver it had been the night he’d
gone to claim Sahalia. In fact, it was nearly black at the roots. He
wondered if the others had noticed this.
“You’ve come a long way in the last week, Spike.” Jar’vees said. “I don’t
think there’s anymore I can teach you.” He set the tip of his staff on the
tiled floor and pushed his hair out of his face. He looked intently at Spike
and grinned his trademark lopsided grin.
Looking down at the sword that glinted in the dim twilight, Spike felt a
kind of detached elation. “We’re ready any time you are, Spike,” a voice
said from behind him. He turned around to see Tara, with her gentle maternal
eyes. Willow was beside her, looking both weary and terribly excited at the
same time. Dawn’s eyes were wide and hopeful as she looked up at her friend.
“Tomorrow is the half-moon.” Jar’vees said.
“Then the waiting is over.” Spike said softly. He sheathed Sahalia and
turned to look at the circle chalked on the floor around the doors behind
him. He walked over to it and stood just outside the carefully chalked
lines. He stared out unseeing beyond the doors. In his mind, all he saw was
Buffy there waiting for him.
~
Sunday, December 30th, 2001, 7:26 PM
“Keep your mind open and focus on Buffy,” Willow said as Spike stepped up
to the circle. “Don’t let anything distract you. Once you’ve opened the link
with Buffy tell her it’s important to try and keep the link open for as long
as possible. We may need the time to break down the walls.”
“I’ve done this before, Red,” Spike said with a grim smile as he put his
hand on his friend’s shoulder. Odd, he thought to himself, how it was that
the others appeared more nervous than he now that the time had finally come.
He was nervous too, but he also felt…removed from what they were doing. As
if he were outside looking in. Each sense was heightened. Everything seemed
to have sharp, glittering edges. He could hear unsteady breathing as the
witches prepared their spell. He could feel the air in the Temple against
his face and it had a metallic taste to it filtered across his senses. He
reached into his pocket to feel for the lock of blonde hair that was safely
tucked inside.
The redhead nodded irritably. “I know, I know. But I’m nervous. Very, very
nervous so I have every right to be repetitive. Okay…let’s get going.” She
turned to Tara and they took up their positions outside the circle, Willow
squarely facing the doors and Tara on her right. Jar’vees, wearing his black
and white Priest’s robes and his hair now blending of equal parts black and
silver, touched his staff to the glass doors. They opened outward to reveal
the center of the circle chalked directly underneath it. He stepped back and
took up a position opposite Tara on Willow’s left. They had taught him the
spell during the week and he would lend his power to help. Dawn sat down in
a chair, nervously playing with her hair.
All that was left was for the fourth member of the group to take his place.
The others looked at him, waiting for him to step into the center of the
circle.
He nodded to them, as if acknowledging them, stepped over the lines and
stood in the circuit of power that Willow and Tara had constructed. He faced
outwards, away from the Temple and into the dark mountain sky, so black and
cold as the moonlight shone onto them. The cold breeze that blew around the
Temple ruffled their hair. Spike clutched the white hilt of the sword that
hung at his hip, feeling for the maroon scarf tied there.
“Remember, Spike, no matter what you do don’t draw the sword until the
portal has finished forming and we’re all through. If you do, Sahalia will
close it and we’ll back at square one.”
“I’ll remember,” he said over his shoulder, “All right then, let’s do
this.”
Without seeing them, he knew the others nodded in agreement. He closed his
eyes, shutting out the dim moonlight, the endless black sky, the desolate
mountain, everything and thought only of the petite, blonde woman who was
his world. He drew deep within himself for all the memories he held dear
going back to when he and Buffy first met. He thought of the wondrous night
over a month ago that she said she loved him. Every scrap of memory he could
get his mental hands on were brought into the bright image of blonde hair,
the color reminding him of the sunlight he was shunned from. Forging that
image into a blade as sharp and deadly as Sahalia on his side, he opened
himself up to her. Inside his mind, there was a flash of white light and
then she was there.
Diving into the connection, he drove himself along it, seeking out the
person on the other end. The connection wasn’t weak and faint as it had been
before, now it was as strong as steel.
#Buffy!# he shouted, wrapping himself around her and holding her tightly,
#I’m here, luv#
#Spike?#
#Yeah, it’s me. I’ll be there in a bit. Just hold on#
#Hurry, Spike# came her joyful reply.
“Spike!” another voice shouted from behind him. He opened his eyes. “Spike,
look!”
The circle was glowing incandescent in the dim moonlight. The light shot
upwards around him, sealing himself in a pillar of light. His demon
immediately shied from it, but the illumination did nothing to harm him. The
walls around the vampire shifted and crawled in a way that made the hair on
the back of his neck stand up. Strange images imposed themselves over the
reality beyond: Dark tunnels, a chaotic sky, black marble floors and walls
that stretched to eternity on either side. And there in front of him-
If his heart could beat, it would have stopped right there. Standing there,
her blonde hair tumbling messily down her shoulders, was Buffy. She looked
so real, and he felt himself tear up at the sight of her finally back.
Leaning forward, he stretched his hand out toward her. “Buffy!” he called
softly, “Come on!”
She was looking into his eyes, an expression of confusion on her face.
After a moment that seemed like forever, she looked down at his hand, his
wrist encased with a silver band with runes. Hesitantly, she raised her hand
and extended it towards his. Just as her long fingers were about to touch
his, a stiff wind whipped around the portal’s insides. The walls thickened
and were shot through with flashes of lightening. Buffy gasped and fell
backwards to disappear through the portal wall.
“BUFFY!” Spike shouted desperately. He heard the sound of boots on the
floor, whirled around and found Riley standing behind him, staff raised.
“Well, well,” he drawled, his sapphire eyes glinting dangerously. “If it
isn’t old Hostile 17. You should have told me you were coming. I would have
baked a cake.” He lowered the head of his staff and pointed the huge ruby at
the vampire. “Unfortunately, Buffy and I were in the middle of a discussion,
so I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”
“Sure, right after I yank that Nancy Boy tongue of yours out of your throat
and strangle you with it,” Spike growled, his eyes narrow and shining
dangerously at Riley. “I’m taking Buffy back. Don’t even think about
stopping me.”
Riley smirked. “And just how are you going to do that, Spike? I seem to
remember faintly that the last time you said that, I left you for dead.”
“Well, see that’s the thing. I think you forgot the rules, but I kind of
don’t die.” Spike said, gripping the hilt of his sword but not daring to
draw it. He risked a quick glance over to where Willow, Tara and Jar’vees
were desperately trying to do something on the other side of the portal
wall. Dawn was pacing nervously around, wringing her hands helplessly. He
couldn’t hear them; he couldn’t hear anything over the electric buzzing of
the walls. The walls were growing thicker and darker, making it harder to
see his friends.
“No one’s perfect, Spike, out of all…things…you should know that.” Riley
took a step to the right, putting himself between Spike and the others. “I
wouldn’t count on them to help you. They won’t be able to get through. I’ve
made this our own little battlefield, you see. Just you and me, Spike, and
no interruptions. One on one. Isn’t that what you want?”
Seeing he was on his own, Spike turned his full attention to the Master of
the Ausi and against all possibility, his eyes grew even harder and colder.
They sparkled clear and strong as diamonds, but the blue was the cold, pale
colour of ice.
“I want Buffy back,” he rasped. The electric buzz was drowned out by the
sound of steel scraping on steel as he drew the white blade of Sahalia and
faced Riley squarely. “But if that’s the way you want it, I’m game.”
Riley’s lips curled upward in satisfaction only to turn downwards in
confusion as the walls of the portal started to collapse. He gestured with
his staff towards them and they flared once before dying completely-
Just before the world exploded.
~
“Spike!”
Willow and Tara beat mercilessly on the portal walls as Dawn paced back and
forth behind them. The walls had thickened into glass-like solidity and no
matter what they tried, nothing could get through. Helplessly they watched
Spike and Riley face off. The vampire gripped the hilt of his sword tightly
as he glanced at them.
“No,” Jar’vees whispered, “He can’t. He can’t!”
“What?” Dawn asked, stopping her pacing as the others turned to face him.
“He’s going to draw Sahalia!”
“It’s not like he has a choice! He can’t just stand there and let Riley
kill him!”
“You don’t understand! If he draws the sword, it will shut the portal! It
will trap him inside. He could kill himself!” Jar’vees thrust his staff at
the walls in desperation. “We have to get through!”
“How?” Willow demanded. “Just how are we going to stop this?” Her voice
rose in a fevered pitch as she shouted at the Priest.
“I don’t know! Just…do something! Cast the spell again!”
Tara froze. “Will that work?”
“How do I know? You’re the witches here!”
“All right, all right,” Tara turned back to the circle. “Come on, Willow.
Let’s get started.” They took their places and Tara began reciting the
spell.
Jar’vees and Willow accompanied her, adding their power and strength to the
matrix formed by the spell. Dawn winced as she saw Riley gesture at the
walls and watched them thicken like clear bricks. However, Tara finished the
spell and said the final words to seal it. The chalk outline on the floor
shined brightly, yet dimmer than before. The walls thinned and they could
see beyond Riley to where Spike was glaring at the Ausi.
And drew Sahalia. For several horrible seconds it seemed time stood still-
Just before the world exploded.
~
Scuffscuffscuff…
Buffy sat with her chin in her hands and stared at the floor in front of
her. She tapped her sandal restlessly, wondering morbidly if Spike could
ever find her and if she would be stuck in this hell forever. Sighing, she
scuffed her shoe some more.
Scuffscuffscuff…
“My dear Buffy,” a familiar voice said from behind her, “Why so glum?”
“Go to hell, Riley,” she muttered without turning around. She heard him
walk up behind her and pause. The hair on her neck bristled and she wanted
more than anything to just turn around and sock him a good one, but she
steeled herself to remain impassive. Reacting to his presence would only
give him pleasure. So she continued to stare at the floor. She couldn’t
control her disgust when he laid a hand on her shoulder, however.
Whipping around, she smacked his hand away. “Don’t touch me. Ever,” she
snarled viciously.
The man pulled back his hand as if he had been bitten. “You are a bright
beam of sunshine, aren’t you?”
“I don’t want you to touch me,” she said, rising off the settee and backing
away from him, “Every time you do, I feel like pouring boiling water all
over myself to get the feel of you off me.”
“I think that will change, my Buffy,” he answered as he stepped towards
her.
“Stop calling me that!”
“What?”
“I’m not your Buffy! I’m not anyone’s Buffy except for my own!”
“What about your gallant hero?” Riley mocked. “Aren’t you his?” He looked
at her, blue eyes glinting in the half-light.
She took a deep breath. “I-I don’t know…” she whispered.
His smile turned cruel. “You don’t know. You don’t even know who he is, do
you?”
Buffy fumed at him. “Shut up, Riley!” she said. “I know I love him.”
“Do you, now?” He stepped forward and his cruel smile faded away. “I could
love you, Buffy, if you would just let me.” He held out his hand and pleaded
with her. “Please, Buffy, just give me a chance.”
For a moment, Buffy saw something pass across his eyes. It could have been
love, sorrow or even regret, but it was human. But it passed all too
quickly, and his eyes turned cold once more.
She recoiled from him. “You kidnap me, hold me here against my will, warp
my mind, torment me, leave me to wander in this dark for days, not to
mention the fact that you’ve been starving me for hours, and you think that
will make me love you?” Her voice became cold and hard and she stared up at
him, fear banished from her eyes.
Riley merely stared unfazed at her. “I’m getting tired of this, Buffy. I’m
beginning to regret giving you the chance to make a choice at all.” He
reached out, snagged her wrist and jerked her forward.
Buffy yelped as he caught her around the waist and lowered his face to
hers. She turned her head and managed to avoid his kiss, while bringing her
heel down hard on his foot, then pulling her knee up sharply between his
legs.
With a harsh gasp, he released her and staggered backwards. Buffy put a
good bit of distance between them, running out into the outer room and
catching up one of the ever-burning candlesticks. She ripped the candle out
and reversed it in her hand so that the heavy base was up. Whipping around,
she waited for Riley to come after her.
Except he didn’t come. The air around her began to change. She dropped the
candlestick in dumb wonder and looked on in amazement as a circle of light
appeared on the floor. The light shot upwards, surrounding her. The changes
increased, and images of a dark night sky and a strange glassed-in building
imposed themselves upon the sickeningly familiar darkness. Her face lit up
with hopeful wariness.
And then…she felt him in her mind. Spike. His familiar presence in her mind
was neither tenuous, fragile and barely there as it had been before. This
time is spirit burned as bright as the sun inside her, as strong as steel.
#Buffy! I’m here luv#
#Spike?# she sent back incredulously.
#Yeah, it’s me. I’ll be there in a bit. Just hold on#
“Hurry, Spike!” she shouted joyfully.
The walls of light brightened even further and in front of her eyes, an
outline appeared, lined in light. A blonde man in a black duster with a
white sword tied to his waist. Spike. As she watched he solidified in front
of her and then he was #there#.
His eyes were closed and his face seemed calm and serene. She heard a voice
call her name, a dim voice from beyond the light. His eyes opened and he
stared at her. His face seemed in absolute euphoria as his blue eyes sought
hers.
Leaning forward, he stretched out his hand to her. “Buffy!” he called
softly. “Come on!”
For a moment, she just stood there staring at him. Was it really Spike? The
man she had been shown in Riley’s visions and her dreams? It sure as hell
looked like him, but something…wasn’t right. Something was off. She looked
down at his hand. She saw the glint of a silver wristband under the sleeve
of his duster. It had to be him. Hesitantly, she raised her hand and reached
it towards his. Just as her long fingers were about to touch his, a stiff
wind whipped inside the portal. The walls thickened and were shot through
with flashes of lightening. Buffy gasped and fell backwards through the
walls.
She recovered herself and ran back toward the portal. Inside, she saw that
Riley had entered the circle and he and Spike were facing down.
“Spike!” she shouted as she beat upon the walls.
Helpless, she watched as Riley raised his staff and gestured towards the
walls. They thickened and darkened and she lost sight of them for a moment.
But then they brightened again and she could see.
His hand moved to his side and he drew his sword and the light flashed off
the ivory blade. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her life, but
she felt a sense of terror at its side. The same terror she had felt every
time she looked at the staff in Riley’s hand. Under her hands the walls
flared-
Just before the world exploded.
The Circle of Slayers Series 28/35 Incomplete
Chapter 28: The Beginning of the End
By Denna at dennaseer@hotmail.com
Rated PG-13 for violence and language
Keywords: Buffy and Spike…what else could there be?
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. They belong to Joss Whedon.
Jar’vees belongs to me. I love feedback, by the way.
Summary for Chapter 28: The battle begins as Spike and Riley face off, one
on one.
Chapter 28: The Beginning of the End
Darkness.
Sitting up, Spike put a hand to his head and tried opening his eyes.
They were already open.
Still dark.
Maybe he thought he’d only opened them up the first time. It’d happened
before – usually after having had a little too much to drink. So he tried
again.
Still dark.
Damn.
This was not good. How could he tell where he was if he couldn’t see? Even
with his night vision it was pitch black.
He rubbed his head; there was a slight ache behind his eyes. He put his
other hand on the floor to lever himself up and it brushed against something
cold and hard. Looking down, he saw the soft glow from the sword under his
palm. His sword.
No, not his sword. Sahalia. That would never be #his# sword. Sahalia
belonged to no one. It just went along for the ride.
‘Where did that come from?’ he wondered. Weird way to think of a sword,
even this one. He shook his head as he wrapped his hand around the hilt. The
glow strengthened and danced incandescently along the blade until it pushed
back the darkness enough for him to see beyond and that was-
More darkness.
“Bloody hell, I’m getting tired of this,” he muttered as he picked himself
up. Brushing himself off, he picked up the sword and looked around for
something, anything.
Nothing.
“Buffy?” he called.
Still nothing.
Picking a direction at random, he walked off, keeping track of his paces.
He got to ten before he ran into something. Not literally, but he felt the
tip of the sword scrape against something solid. Reaching forward, he laid
his hand upon a wall of black stone, nearly indistinguishable from the
darkness around him. Well, at least it was something. Turning to put the
wall on his left and keeping the sword ready and keeping himself close to
the wall, he started walking.
He walked for what seemed like ten minutes before he came to a set of
double doors. As he reached for the handles, they opened of their own
accord. Stepping back and looking in suspiciously, he kept the sword at
ready for any sign of trouble. Light, soft and warm, came from spheres of
light hanging on the walls. They spilled their light across the room,
setting a dim illumination.
It seemed to be some kind of dining room. A long black table lay in the
center of the room with lighted candles burning across its length with high
backed chairs set around it in perfectly spaced intervals. A large ebony
mantle framed a fireplace that burned with blood red flames along the wall
to the right. Opposite the double doors behind him were another set of
doors; these were set with windows that looked upon more darkness. Draped
across the chair nearest the door was a long red runner that most likely
should have run down the length of the table. Someone had gathered it up and
dumped it on the chair though. He picked it up idly before letting it drop
back into the chair.
On the floor by the chair was a candlestick that someone had dropped. The
candle that had been it was still burning despite lying on its side. There
was no wax on the floor, either.
He stopped and picked up the candlestick, set it on the table, then
gathered up the candle and put it one-handedly on the stick. Picking it up,
he approached the glassed in doors. They stood slightly ajar; using the tip
of the sword, he pushed them open.
The blonde vampire walked through the short tunnel out to the balcony. As
he looked up, he saw the kaleidoscope sky and space around him. His heart
was filled with both joy and terror at the sight. This is what Buffy had
been trying to show him the first time he had contacted her! He was in the
right place now, at least. Now, he just had to find her.
He made a quick inspection of the balcony carefully keeping his eyes off
the sky and on the stone. That insane sky unnerved him more than he wanted
to admit. Backing off into the tunnel, Spike gladly made his escape from
that frightening vista. He resolutely turned his back on the sight and went
back inside. Spotting a door he had missed before, he headed towards it. It
was standing open and as he moved past it’s heavy frame, bringing the double
pool of candlelight and sword’s glow with him, a pool of blonde hair stood
out brilliantly against the ebony floor.
“Buffy!” he shouted, sheathing his sword and kneeling by her unconscious
form. He set the candlestick on the floor and gathered her into his arms,
reveling in the feel of her skin and her familiar scent. “Oh God, Buffy…” he
murmered over and over again, tears springing to his eyes as he held her
close. Her tangled blonde locks tumbled through his fingers and over his
hands as he supported her. “Please Buffy. Please wake up.” Tilting her head
back, he kissed her.
Buffy’s eyes fluttered open to find herself being kissed. Expecting it to
be Riley, she pushed away from him. “I told you not to tou-“ She froze as
she stared into those blue eyes she’d seen so many times in her mind and
heart. She saw the unnaturally blonde hair and the black duster that
gathered around his form.
“Spike…?” she asked, not quite sure if he was real or not.
“It’s me, Buffy!” he said, a euphoric smile lighting up his features. He
leaned forward to kiss her and she stretched up to meet him. Her hand
lightly fell upon his chest and she longed to feel his warmth around him.
But there was none. His skin was cool like death and she felt no resounding
beat within his heart. With a gasp, she pushed him away from her.
“No…” she said, looking into his face and shaking her head. Something
wasn’t right. He looked like Spike, but… “You’re not Spike.”
Fear as cold as ice lanced through the vampire. “Of course I’m me. Who else
would I be?”
She scrambled away, holding her arms close to her in defense. “I don’t
know,” she said, “But you’re not Spike. What are you? Why do you look like
him? Where’s the real Spike?”
“Buffy,” he pleaded with her. “I #am# the real Spike!” He sat forward,
reaching for her, only to have her scramble away from his hands in fear.
“It’s me!” He suddenly felt like something was draining from him. That look
of terror and distrust bit into him, making him feel empty. She didn’t see
him. Why didn’t she see him?
She shook her head. “No. You’re…cold and hard. Spike…wasn’t like that. He
was warm.” Tears began to fall from her terrified eyes. “Where’s your heart?
I couldn’t feel…where’s your heart?”
She got to her feet and loomed over him, shaking all over. “What have you
done with him, Riley?” she shouted at him, her face twisted with rage.
“What has he done to #you#, Buffy?” he asked, the empty feeling inside
rapidly filling with anger. Riley. He had done this to her. He did something
to her. The vampire climbed to his feet and whirled around, wildly staring
into the darkness around him. “Riley! What have you done to her, you fucking
bastard?” The primal rage in his voice and stone cold anger of his face made
Buffy back off in fear. “Come out here and fight me!”
“You don’t have to shout, you know.” Both Spike and Buffy whipped around to
face the Ausi standing behind them. There was feral gleam in his eyes and
smile. “So, it seems that the happy reunion between the lovers isn’t so
happy after all.”
There was a low growl from Spike, but Buffy forestalled his response by
stepping forward. “What have you done with Spike?” she demanded, her voice
harsh and threatening.
“He’s right behind you, Buffy,” Riley said calmly, gesturing with one hand.
“You know what I mean,” she shouted as Spike came to stand behind her,
glaring at Riley. “Where’s the #real# Spike?”
“That #is# the real Spike,” was his quiet, amused reply. His blue eyes
traveled from hazel to sapphire then back to hazel to relish the reaction to
his words.
“You mean-“ She turned and looked up at the vampire, whose eyes were still
locked on Riley. “No,” she said, seeing the sudden flash of pain register in
those pale blue eyes yet still not leaving Riley’s face. She turned back to
Riley. “Then what have you done to him? He’s changed.”
“My dear Buffy-“
“I told you not to call me that.” Buffy snapped.
He inclined his head. “So you did. All right then. I’ve done nothing to
Spike.” His mouth twisted into a sneer and he looked from her to the
vampire. “You should ask him what he’s done to himself.”
“What have you done to Buffy?” came the vampire’s question.
“Why, I don’t know what you mean, Spike.” Riley said.
“Why doesn’t she recognize me? You’ve done something to her, you pillock, I
know it.” The vampire’s hand clenched around the hilt of his sword until his
fingers turned white.
“Oh…that might be because she lost her memories. Do you think that has
something to do with it, Buffy?”
Spike’s eyes went wide with disbelief and he turned to her. “Is that true?”
“Kinda,” she said with a glare at Riley.
“That explains it then!” He turned to her and reached out to take her hand.
“Please remember. It’s me, Spike. I love you, Buffy! You have got to
remember, luv.”
She pulled her hand out of his grasp. “I remember Spike,” she said.
“But…you’re not him. You’re skin’s so cold…” She felt tears welling up in
her eyes. “You’re not Spike. I don’t know what you are, but you’re not
Spike.”
Something broke within the vampire. Whether it was a flood of sorrow, or an
unleash of rage, he did not know. He remained staring at her for a moment
longer then turned to face the Ausi. Hate darkened his eyes and features and
his face turned to a cold, impassive mask.
“You should have killed me when you had the chance,” he said in a low voice
like steel. He advanced on Riley, driving him backward before him, leaving
Buffy standing alone and confused. Riley retreated, but his smile never
wavered – except for some reason when he frowned slightly and waved his
staff in an odd manner. Then his attention was completely on Spike again.
The vampire stood before him, and in a voice cold like murder, he said,
“Because you will scream for your death by the time I’m finished with you.”
~
Dawn heard someone groaning and opened her eyes. She was lying on the floor
in the Temple with her arm hanging over the edge of the stairwell. Groggily,
she sat up. The last thing she remembered was the portal exploding-
“Willow? Tara?” she cried, looking around desperately. She spotted the
fair-haired witch caught up against the wall nearby. Scrambling up, she was
by her side in an instant. “Tara!” Rolling her over, she shook her until she
opened her eyes. “Thank God you’re okay.”
“Yeah, I’m all right. I think, anyway.” She put a hand to her head and shut
her eyes. “I feel like there’s someone in my head trying to hammer their way
out.”
Someone nearby groaned again. They both looked around and saw Jar’vees and
Willow crumpled together across the chamber. Dawn helped Tara up and they
hurried across to them.
“Are you guys okay?” Tara asked.
“No,” the Priest said with a groan, “I think I’m dead.”
“You’re not dead.” Dawn said with a grin.
“You seem pretty sure of that.”
“Well, I’m not dead so you’re not dead.”
“How can you be sure you’re not dead?” He opened his eyes and stared up at
her. “We could all be dead and just don’t know it yet.”
“Jar’vees, you’re #not# dead. Trust me.”
Tara leaned forward and touched the dark, wet puddle on the floor near his
head. It was warm and sticky and when she raised her hand it was red.
“You’re bleeding. Sit up.” He pushed himself up slowly and faced her. Blood
coated his hairline from a gash in his forehead. “Here, let me heal that.”
“Thanks.”
“How is he?” Willow asked as Dawn helped her up.
“It’s just a scratch. I’ll have it healed in a minute.”
“Just a scratch, she says. It hurts like hell.” Jar’vees winced as the
magic started to knit his skin back together.
“You’ll live,” Willow said, walking over to the circle. “Oh no,” she
muttered under her breath. “This is bad. Really bad.”
Tara looked over as she finished up with Jar’vees and got to her feet.
“What is it-“ Tara stopped when she saw the burnt and smudged lines that
were all that remained of the circle.
“Willow, you have a gift for the understatement.” Jar’vees said as he
stared at the floor. He leaned forward and wiped through the soot smudged on
the glass walls leaving behind pale streaks. His fingers were blackened with
it. “Can you recreate it?”
“Of course,” Tara said, squatting down and using the hem of her ceremonial
dress to clean away the soot. “But Spike’s gone and he had Buffy’s hair.
There’s nothing to establish a link now.”
“You’ve done the spell enough times that you shouldn’t have need a physical
link anymore,” Jar’vees snapped. “You both are highly skilled witches. The
fact that you were able to adapt to a spell of this magnitude proves that.”
“That doesn’t matter, Jar’vees,” Willow argued. “This isn’t a practice run.
We’re traveling through dimensions here. Do you know how much strength, how
much knowledge it takes? And Tara and I are as tired as it is.”
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t try, right?” Dawn asked. “We can’t just
stand here.”
“No, we can’t. I’ll recreate the circle and try the spell again. First,
let’s get this cleaned up.” She got to work at erasing the smudged lines.
“What about Spike?” Dawn asked, “Where did he go?”
Jar’vees sighed. “I have no idea. Right now our priority should be finding
Buffy. After she’s back with you, we can work on Spike.” He set his staff
against the wall nearby and knelt next to Willow and Tara, using the corner
of his robes to clean away the soot. “It’s possible that he’s even in the
same place as Buffy, anyway. Come on, Princess. We need your help, too.”
Dawn nodded numbly and knelt down on the floor, using her sweater sleeve to
wipe away the lines.
It wasn’t long before most of the ruined lines had been cleared away and
the four of them stood. Tara pulled her chalk from her pocket and proceeded
to redraw the circle.
With the last sigil chalked in, Willow made a final walk of the circle,
checking the lines and markings. She stepped into the center of the circle
and motioned for the others to join her. “This time we’re doing this from
here – so we don’t get locked out like last time.”
Both Tara and Jar’vees nodded. They stepped into the center of the circle,
stood with their backs together and faced outwards. The rings on Jar’vees’
staff jingled softly as he set the tip of it on the floor by his feet.
“Ready,” he said. Tara nodded in reply and Willow closed her eyes and
readied herself to cast the spell.
In perfect unison, the three of them recited the words and made the hand
gestures that would channel their powers into the energy circuit Willow was
creating. The words bound their magical energy into the lines, which began
to glow with a steady blue light. As the spell proceeded, Willow raised her
voice and the power in the chalked lines shot up to form a glowing pillar
around them. The energy displacement started a small gale around them,
tugging at their clothes, hair and bodies mercilessly. Unfazed, Willow
continued her spell. Jar’vees and Tara were sweating as they tried to keep
up with her, giving her everything they dared give and still be able to
stand.
As Dawn watched, she saw the pillar flicker on and off. The spell wasn’t
working, she knew. It was powerful, yes, but not enough. They needed a
connection. Dawn closed her eyes as she breathed in shakily.
And then she knew.
She was Buffy. Their blood was the same. She felt something inside her
stir, some deep primal power that she had always touched yet never felt. She
was the Key. She was Buffy’s Name. She was the connection.
Dawn stood up and breathing deeply, ran into the portal. Before the others
could notice, she took Willow and Tara’s hands and a sudden flood of power
come from her into them. The walls briefly flickered, and then suddenly
shone with a white light that they had never experienced before. The sheer
intensity and power of it made the four feel the breaking through of
dimensions. Suddenly, they could see images of dark, endless castle framed
against an insane sky, long dark corridors with no end, then,
inconspicuously, a dining room complete with black table and burning
candles.
“Willow!” Dawn shouted and tugged at her hand. The redhead, along with the
others, opened her eyes and looked to where Dawn’s eyes were staring. “It’s
Buffy!” The blonde Slayer stood nearby, intently watching something. She
didn’t seem to realize they were there. Her eyes were large and frightened.
Relief and joy flooded through her. “Buffy!” Willow shouted, then looked
around, “Where’s Spike?”
A hand fell on her shoulder. “You’d better look at this,” Jar’vees said.
Willow turned to look out the window opposite Buffy.
“Spike!” she shouted.
“Riley.”
Beyond the portal walls, the two men faced each other. Spike’s body was
coiled as tense as a spring and his hand gripped the hilt of Sahalia
tightly. They could tell he was yelling at the grinning Ausi in front of him
but they couldn’t tell what he was saying. Whatever it was, it made Riley
smile even more. His blue eyes were glinting with a wicked glow in the dark.
Willow readied her power. “Tara, go to Buffy. I’m going to help Spike.” She
stepped forward, foot coming down on the glowing lines of force beneath her.
The walls flickered in response. Riley’s eyes darted toward them and his
mouth turned down in a frown. He raised his staff and the walls suddenly
took on a blood-red hue.
“Willow, no!” Jar’vees cried, grabbing the witch’s arm and pulling her
backward. “Don’t touch the walls!”
“What are you doing?” Willow yelled at him. “I have to go out there!” She
jerked her arm out of the Priest’s grasp and turned toward the walls again.
“Do that and you’re dead.” Jar’vees’ voice, hard and commanding, made the
woman freeze in her tracks. Slowly she turned around and faced the Priest of
the Temple of Light and Shadow.
“What are you talking about?” she demanded, her own voice harsh and
demanding.
“Watch.” Jar’vees reached into the pocket of his robe and took out a piece
of chalk. Snapping it in two, he tossed it towards the glowing maroon walls.
When it hit, instead of passing through, there was a sparking discharge that
rebounded around the portal and forced the four of them to crouch to the
ground to keep themselves from being hit.
“What the hell was that?” Willow asked.
“Riley has us sealed in here. We can’t do anything until he releases us
or…”
The others looked at him. “Or what?”
He spread his hands in defense. “Don’t ask me. I don’t have #all# the
answers, you know.”
Willow climbed to her feet and let her power fade. “Perfect. This is just
perfect. We go through all that trouble and this is what we get.”
As one they turned and looked beyond their prison walls, wanting more than
anything to help their friends, but helpless to do anything but watch.