| Part Eight : Out of the Labyrinth (con't) |
| * * * * * (con't) Spike paced back and forth on the front porch. His anxiety level was extreme. He cursed himself again for not being honest with Buffy about the contents of the silver box. Why had he lied to her? He saw Tara drive her car by the house and he ran down the path to meet them. Tara and Willow got out of the car and came through the garden gate. “Where’s Buffy?” he asked. “We thought she might be here; thought you might’ve come in and …er…made up with her,” Willow blushed. “Giles!” Spike shouted. Giles came running out of the house. “What’s wrong?” “We’ve got to go into town. Buffy’s missing. Buffy…” Spike grabbed Tara’s car keys out of her hand. “Need your car, ok?” He jumped over the garden wall. “Wait Spike, I’m coming with you. Tara, Willow…you stay here with Dawn.” Giles jumped into the passenger seat of Tara’s car as Spike pulled out onto the road. * * * * * “I’ll never forgive myself,” he moaned. “It’s my fault.” He pressed down on the accelerator and soon the car was moving at about 70 mph down the narrow road. “What’s your fault? And would you please slow down? It won’t help Buffy if we’re all smashed and wrapped around a tree.” Giles hung on to the dashboard and closed his eyes as Spike screeched the car around a narrow turn. “The box, the picture…” “What picture, Spike?” “My mother…and me and someone else…” He told Giles about what he’d found in the silver box. “I knew I should’ve never trusted myself to Bert. Just wanted so desperately to give Buffy what she wanted…you know normal life, a family…what a fool I’ve been. All Bert’s pretty words about ‘choosing’ and ending the cycle of violence. He’s been lying all along. I knew it. ‘Spike’ knew it, but that damn bloody naïve William. Wish I had a knife to cut him out of my body. Wish I’d never come back to life again.” He drove in silence for a bit and then cried out in an anguished voice, “I’ve destroyed her! Just like you said I would, Giles. You were right—right all along. Only it’s not happened like you thought. You thought I’d become the Dragon and destroy her with evil and power. But I just turned into a wuss, a little poof…and it’s my weakness, my bloody human weakness that did this to her, put her in danger. Wish I was dead again. Wish I was a bloody evil vampire. I could protect her then.” “Spike, aren’t you running a little ahead of yourself here? We don’t know that Buffy’s in danger or hurt. Maybe she just went out to do a little shopping and missed Willow and Tara when they came back to the house to pick her up. Could be something very innocent. Don’t get yourself worked up here, man. And remember, you’re still not completely human,” Giles sighed in relief as Spike pulled up to the house. Spike jumped out of the car and ran into the house. He stood in the middle of the living room. Giles followed in behind him. “What is it?” Giles asked. “It’s her.” “Her? Buffy you mean? She’s here?” “No…I can smell her. Can smell that other woman, Margaret. She’s been in this house.” He raced up the stairs to the bathroom. There were no signs of struggle, but there was a strange bitter smell in the room. He found a discolored cloth next to the bathtub. “Giles! Come up here!” he called. Giles stood in the bathroom and sniffed the cloth. “It’s chloroform.” They searched the house completely but found no trace of Buffy. * * * * * Giles and Spike arrived back at Rose Lyn and found everyone standing around the dining room table. Bertram was sitting tied in a chair at the head of the table. “We found him sneaking around outside. We would’ve dusted him, but he claims to have information about Buffy. Wouldn’t talk to us until you got back,” Willow said. She was standing behind Bertram with a stake in her hand. “Would you ask this deranged Wicca to stand down, please?” Bertram struggled against his bonds. Spike strode over to Bertram and grabbed him by the throat. “You bloody git. I’ll kill you right now!” He started to choke him. Giles and Willow pulled Spike off of Bert. “Let him talk…no time for revenge now. Think of Buffy!” Giles pushed Spike down into a chair. “Speak you bloody demon!” Spike growled, his eyes flashing yellow, barely controlling his own demon. “I’m not a demon!” Bertram raised his voice and then stopped suddenly at the look in Spike’s eyes. “What’s going on? What happened to Buffy?” Giles demanded. “Well…ah…I’m not really sure,” Bertram looked nervously at Giles. “It’s quite a long story…you’ll control him…won’t you?” he glanced quickly at Spike. “Perhaps…if you tell us the truth.” * * * * * “This is all Fourier’s fault.” He paused and, lost in thought, looked down at the table. Then, looking up at Spike, he quickly began his story. “Well it seemed that your mother had twins. You were the eldest son. I never knew. I swear I never knew. Your mother left you with me. She left Richard, the younger twin, with a human relative of her lover…a member of an obscure junior branch of the Sinclair family. Tragically, it seems that he was turned also, a few years after Drusilla turned you.” He stared nervously at Spike and then continued, “Fourier found Richard in Paris. Richard claimed he’d spent the last 40 years searching through Eastern Europe for the secret of his birth, for his real family. He had the etching. His mother must have left it with his adoptive family. I put the drawing in the silver chest. Guess you’ve seen it by now. I did leave it for you. Thought it would be nice to give you a little warning.” Spike growled again and started to move toward Bertram. “Spike!” Giles warned. “Fourier,” Bertram continued, “Fourier must have initially thought that the being he’d found was William, the child I was given. But he never told me about the etching. He brought Richard back to San Francisco, told him about my plan, presented him to me as if he were you. We thought we’d send Richard down to Sunnydale, see if he could make the right…ah…connection with the Slayer and help me complete my little plan. I never knew about you…that there were two children. I swear. Fourier and I began to prepare Richard for the transformation, but, I soon realized that he was completely uncontrollable; that he’d probably rather just kill the Slayer, than make love to her. I believe it would be quite impossible for a human woman to love him. His demon is so dark, it could suck the light right out of the sun. Absolutely no impulse control, I must say. It was then that I heard about you.” He nodded toward Spike, “Heard the rumor that there was a vampire in Sunnydale, who’d fallen in love with the Slayer and was actually…er…her lover.” He glanced nervously at Spike again. “So I sent Fourier down to Sunnydale to spy on you and, of course, the rest you know. You dusted him.” “Fourier wasn’t spying on me, Bert. He was trying to destroy me,” Spike said. “Yes, Fourier, blast him… Well, then I found out about the Dragon, and found the etching of your mother and her two babies hidden in Fourier’s room at the mansion. I put two and two together and the first thing I did was imprison Richard down in the basement. Everything just went to hell. Don’t know why I just didn’t kill him.” He sighed. “You couldn’t kill your slayer’s child. Right?” Giles looked a bit sympathetically toward Bertram. “Yes. I loved her so. Couldn’t bring myself to destroy anything that came from her. And Richard was already far down the path of transformation…back into a human form, that is. You know the potion.” “Ah yes… the potion. Transitional phase 1, I believe it was labeled. What’s phase two? Why don’t you explain to us what it really does?” Giles replied. “To hell with the potion!” Spike interrupted, “What’s happened to Buffy?” At that moment, there was a furious knocking at the door. Dawn walked over and opened it. It was Ernie. “Is Mr. Bertram here?” He looked anxiously at Dawn, “Why are you glowing? What are you?” “Why are you green?” She replied giving him a dirty look. She let him in the door. * * * * * “I’ve some more bad news.” Ernest was sitting at the table next to Bertram. He glanced around at the room full of angry faces. “Er…I think Richard may have taken her to the tower.” “How does he know about the tower?” Bertram exclaimed. “I found a marked up map at Margaret’s apartment and…arghh!” he suddenly yelled. Demon had jumped up onto his lap and climbed up his chest and, with deep rumbling purrs, began licking his face. * * * * * Spike and Giles made ready to leave, gathering what supplies they thought may be useful: some rope, some knives, anything they could use as weapons. Just before they left, Giles pulled Bertram aside. “What does Richard want?” he asked. “Well I believe that Fourier told him all about the prophecy of the Dragon and the Sinclair inheritance. And about Spike and Buffy,” Bertram replied in a hushed voice, “I suspect that Richard would like to become the Dragon. He doesn’t really need Buffy for that, just her children.” Giles and Spike went out to the car. Bertram followed behind. Giles spoke to Dawn, “Keep an eye on him,” as he motioned back toward Ernie. “And tell Tara to put a protection spell on the house. Just in case,” he gave Dawn a hug and got into the car with the others. * * * * * Margaret parked her car next to the tower. She got out and walked toward the entrance. It was strangely silent. She realized that she couldn’t hear the seagulls or the ocean. It was as if the air was wrapped in cotton wool, dampered and thick. With a heavy feeling of dread, she opened the door to the tower and started to call out and then thought the better of it. She’d been a fool to leave him alone with the girl. She’d come back to apologize to beg his forgiveness, if he was capable of such a thing. “I’d settle for a kiss and a quick shag,” she thought. And then she heard a moan. “Richard?” she called. The moaning grew louder. It came from outside, near the cliff. She ran outside toward the cliff and saw him lying on the grass next to tower wall. “Richard, what happened?” She kneeled down next to his body. She was afraid to touch him. He was still breathing but his face and hands were completely covered with blood and his right leg was twisted in a strange angle. He tried to speak, to move, but his injured leg prevented him from moving. “Get me out of here,” he gasped. “Yes, love. But I need to take you to a hospital.” “No doctors,” he moaned and then passed out from the pain of his injuries. She bent over and lifted his head gently into her arms. She tried to rouse him, wiped a bit of the blood from his face with the edge of her shirt, and then she screamed. His left eye was horribly disfigured. She ran back to the car and drove it up next to where his body lay. She pulled and dragged him into the car. “Thank god he’s unconscious. Need some kind of bandage.” She ran back into the tower and climbed the stairs to the room where they’d imprisoned Buffy. The blue cloak was lying on the floor. She picked it up, saw that it had been ripped apart and then she noticed that the bars had been removed from the window. “What happened here?” she thought. “Well I hope she’s lying dead at the bottom of the cliff.” She quickly ran down the stairs and got into the car. He had awakened and stared helpless at her out of his one good eye. “She’s gone…and I’ve lost everything,” he whispered. She carefully wrapped a strip of the cloak around his head, covering his injured eye. “Don’t worry, my love” she leaned over and kissed his forehead, “I’ll take care of you. You haven’t lost me.” * * * * * Spike, Giles and Bertram sped up Highway 1. Their silence was only broken briefly by Bertram who gave Spike the directions to the tower. The highway hugged the coastline, dipping up and down madly through ravines and at times shooting up the edge of the coastal mountain range that towered next to the ocean. It was just before sunset. The road had been completely empty except for a black jaguar, driving in the opposite direction. Whoever was driving the jag had nearly run them off the road. “Here. Just at the bottom of this hill, there’s a small dirt road,” Bertram said. Spike turned right onto the road and followed it up a small valley and then up to the top of a hill. The tower loomed above them. “There it is.” Bertram cried. “She better be there. Better be safe or you’re dust.” Spike jumped from the car and ran up to the entrance of the tower. The door stood open. Giles and Bertram followed him as he ran up the stairs. “Buffy, Buffy where are you?” he called. His voice echoed through the empty tower. He entered the room at the top of the tower and ran over to the window. “Someone’s ripped these right out of the window,” he said, pointing to the bars scattered on the floor. “Buffy.” He leaned out the window and his heart fell at the sight before him. It was a two hundred foot drop to the bottom of the tower and then another hundred or so feet to the rocks below the cliff. “She was here. She must have escaped out this window.” He ran his hand over the ledge and felt something sticky. He held his hand up to Giles, “Blood. Her blood. Maybe she injured herself when she climbed out the window.” They walked back down the stairs and stood in silence in the entrance way. Bertram looked nervously at Spike. Giles took charge. “Right, then. Bertram, you search the rest of the tower. See if Richard and Margaret left anything behind, anything that might help us find Buffy. Spike, let’s go and see if we can find anything outside.” Giles went outside and began to search around the base of the tower Spike walked over to the edge of the cliff. “I’m going down there.” Spike pointed down to the rocks below the tower window. “Before the light is gone.” He found a small path that led down to rock strewn beach beneath the cliff. The tide was almost at its lowest point and the beach was littered with seaweed and broken sand dollars. He clambered over the rocky shore until he was standing beneath the tower. Then he carefully scanned the rocks for any signs that Buffy had fallen down from above. As the sun slowly fell into the ocean, a ray of its last light reflected on a small shiny object wedged into a jagged rock just under the cliff. Spike made his way to the rock and reached over and picked up the object. He held it in his hand. Stared at it in disbelief and sorrow. He held it up to the dying light and saw that it was caked with blood. Her ring. Buffy’s ring. Giles found him sitting on a small rock near the ebbing tide. He was sitting cross legged with his head in his hands. “Didn’t you hear me calling? Nearly killed myself climbing down that cliff. If it weren’t for this full moon rising…” he paused. Spike hadn’t moved. Hadn’t responded. “What’s wrong? What have you found?” he asked. “She’s gone. They’re gone.” He held out the ring to Giles. “What’s this?” he said. “Her ring. The ring I gave her and it’s…it’s…blood.” He let the ring fall out of his hand onto the sand. Giles picked the ring up off the sand. “It doesn’t mean…I mean we haven’t found a body.” Spike stood up and grabbed the ring out of Giles’ hand. “Just get the hell out of here. She’s dead. Get it? Now get out of here before I kill you and that bloody git up there in the tower,” he roared and started to morph into his demon face. “Get out of here.” Giles backed away and started to move toward the path up the cliff. “But Spike I can’t leave you here…I can’t…” “Leave me alone!” Spike bared his teeth. Giles turned and ran up the path. About five minutes later, Spike heard the car drive away. * * * * * I know my end have felt it in the dying breath in the face of those I loved have seen time pass at the speed of light through endless days time’s a joke unfolding, woven and warped, burnt and dying time’s a waterfall of gravity pulling me down into the stillness of your eyes, what is a soul where did you go when the last wave, the last contraction of lung and limb stretched out toward me suddenly gone to where, to where I cannot follow now, but yet you wrote the path in fire you carved the path with light and air I am your love alone in this solitary place drinking time, drunk on minutes wasting days and eons of life seeking you in an unnamed space For who will ever speak my name now that you are gone. * * * * * Spike walked over to the rock where he’d found Buffy’s ring and sat down. He watched the moon rise over the ocean. Watched the phosphorescence glistening and dancing across the wakes of the waves. He remembered sitting on another beach in the darkness so long ago, it seemed. He’d wanted to be a man then. To be alive for her. He’d sought for the deeper, wilder magic that would make it so. Some magic. Well here he was now, somewhere between death and life and what good had it done her? Brought her to this end. To this icy cold end. All alone. Because he’d been too greedy. Had wanted everything and now he had nothing. All alone now. Abandoned on this desolate beach. He’d let everything he loved be destroyed. Some bloody magic. Always consequences. He regretted his own words spoken so long ago. And the choice, the choices that he’d made. What choice did he have now? Bloody, damn magic. He was alive and she was dead and lost. For a moment, the image of his demon rose inside him, making him fierce and furious, drunk with revenge. He could murder them all, he thought with elation… Richard, Margaret, Bert…but why stop there, his demon prodded him…Why not destroy everything and everyone that would remind him of her? Be free. He stood up and walked toward the shore and raised his fists toward the moon. What good was light to him now? He’d fill the world with darkness again. What had Bertram said about Richard? So evil and dark that he could pull the light from the sun. Richard’s darkness would be nothing compared to what he would become. He’d claim his birthright. Become the Dragon and destroy the world, her world. He felt the blood lust surge through him. Felt the deep, dark temptation of absolute power blind his mind. He threw himself down onto the sand and moaned with the pain of grief and anger flowing through his body. And then he felt a sudden burning in his hand. The hand that held her ring. He opened his fist and stared at the ring. It was glowing softly in the moonlight, glowing and warm as if heated by the soft light from the moon. He felt a wave of dizziness, perhaps exhaustion, wash over him. He closed his eyes. A vivid vision began to play out in his mind. He was standing beneath a huge oak tree in a small meadow. The air was thick with light, alive with light. He saw another figure standing next to him beneath the tree. It was William. He felt William take his hand and place it on the rough, ancient bark of the tree and felt a jolt of energy flow into his body. Then the memories flooded through him. The memories of each moment of joy he’d had with her. Every touch, every kiss, all the silly sweet moments, the tender moments they’d shared. And suddenly all the anger and bitterness left him, left him without a trace. And all he felt now was a deep sadness. He made his choice. He would never betray her memory or the memory of his love. “William,” he smiled to himself. “Bloody sweet William. Still with me, my man, aren’t you?” It had been his lie that had killed her. Bert had been right. Never lie to a slayer. Couldn’t really blame him now, the stupid old vampire. He fell into an exhausted sleep. Slept deeply, and dreamlessly for a few hours until he was awakened by the splash of a wave spraying salty foam against his face. He sat up and stared out at the water. The tide was rising. God, he hated the ocean. Would never ever set eyes on it again…or perhaps maybe he’d make sure it would be the last thing he’d ever see…He was interrupted suddenly in his despairing thoughts by a strange sight. The full moon had risen high into the sky and now shone down onto the gently swelling ocean waves. A thin silver line of moonlight danced across the ocean from the far horizon and then seemed to disappear into the water about twenty feet from the shore. He rose from the rock and was drawn, as if in a trance, toward the water. The silver light. It had bound them together always. His love. What had Tara told Buffy about this light? “…was a thing of goodness not of evil…a sign of their love …meant they were bound together not only in this life but many lives past and future.” He walked into the water. She was out there somewhere and he didn’t want her to be alone. No matter what it took, he’d find her. They’d be together in death as they were in life. “William, we’ve lost her. Lost our children. Maybe next time, next life…next time…” He put her ring on his finger and then he dove into the waves, swam toward the silver light, and where it sank beneath the waves, he followed. * * * * * Buffy felt that she was floating in a dream world. A pale green light shimmered above her and she was lying on something soft and squishy. “Am I dead again?” she thought to herself. She rolled over to her side and felt a sharp pain shoot from her wrist and up through her arm. “Not this time.” She grimaced as she felt her injured arm. “Let’s see, wrist sprain, and...ah…ouch…forearm really, really broken, shoulder all bruised and bloody, but not broken. But, breathing here. Not dead. Just like another night on patrol. Only underwater,” she gazed around her. “And in a cave.” She struggled to sit up. The pale light was coming from a crystalline glass like rock in the center of the cave’s roof. The light flickered gently as if waves of water were washing across the outside of the stone. She heard the sound of waves rushing back and forth from a pool of water about ten feet from where she sat. “Must have been washed up into this cave on a bed of…” she placed her hand on the soft yielding surface on which she sat, “Ugh… seaweed.” * * * * * He choked as the sea water rushed into his lungs. Instinctively he kicked back toward the surface and then he remembered her. Had to find her and be with her. He relaxed his body and let the rip tide pull him down in the ocean depths. He was suddenly caught in a strong turbulence and felt his body be sucked rapidly down into a deep crevice in the deep shelf of rock that stretched out from the shore line. * * * * * She heard a loud splashing sound from the pool of water. And then she heard a sound that she would treasure for the rest of her life. “Bloody hell!” Spike yelled as the whirlpool dumped him out onto the sandy floor of the cave. “William!” she cried and crawled over to where he lay sputtering and coughing up sea water onto the sand. * * * * * Ernest paced about the living room. He occasionally threw a worried glance at Dawn who was sleeping peacefully on the couch. “Who in the world is this creature?” he thought. The glow radiating from her blinded him. She was definitely not human, not demon or vampire. He paused before the couch and gazed down at her face. He carefully examined its structure and coloring. Something, something here, his mind churned, as he reached far back into his memory and then he remembered. As he put out his hand to touch her face, she opened her eyes and stared fiercely into his. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” she asked harshly. She pushed his hand away and as their hands touched, a quick flash of recognition flashed across her face. “You!” She said and sat up abruptly. Ernest sat down on the rug before her and stared at her in wonder. “You’re his daughter, aren’t you?” “Daughter? What are you babbling about? And I know you! Why?” she cried. Willow and Tara rushed into the living room at the sound of Dawn’s cry. “What’s going on here?” Willow asked. Ernest jumped up off the floor and moved away from Dawn. Dawn got off the couch and walked over to where he stood. She placed her hand on his shoulder. He jumped at her touch. “What do you mean ‘his daughter’?” Willow and Dawn exchanged a worried look. “Dawn…” Willow began to speak. “Doesn’t she know?” Ernest interrupted Willow, giving her a hard look. “Know what? Would someone tell me what’s going on here?” Dawn demanded. “We were going to tell Buffy and Spike first, and let them tell you, but now…” Willow looked down at the floor. “You’re Spike’s daughter. He’s your father,” Ernest spoke softly. “What are you talking about? Are you crazy?” “Well Willow…tell her…tell her what you know,” Ernest nodded to Willow. “I think we should all sit down…ok?” Willow and Tara sat down together on the couch with Dawn sitting between them. Ernest sat on an armchair across them room, watching intently. “So you remember,” she began, “Remember that Buffy asked me to do some research about the Monks who created you?” “Yeah.” “Well…ah…Dawn…we all knew that they used DNA from Buffy to create your physical form. But what we didn’t know, what I discovered was that they not only needed Buffy’s DNA but also the DNA of a male. And they had to use someone who loved her, whose cells and molecular structures would bond harmoniously with hers. It had to be someone who loved her. Spike. Spike loved her. So that means, in a purely biological sense, you’re his daughter.” Dawn put her hands to her face. “Why didn’t you tell me? Tell me when you first found out?” “I’m sorry Dawn, but I thought it should come from Buffy and Spike. But I didn’t have a chance to tell them.” “But now she’s gone and she’ll never …” Dawn started to cry. “And how did you know? she said looking at Ernest through her tears. “And why do I feel as if I know you?” “Because I’m a friendly bloke and a really insightful demon?” Ernest volunteered, hoping they’d all leave him alone. “Wrong answer!” Ernest gave a deep sigh. “It’s been so long, so many years ago. You have no idea. No idea what my life has been and the food this century...makes me weep…” “Spare us the melodrama and get on with it,” said Willow. “Do you know your ancient history? Well I’m far beyond ancient. A Scythian demon, in fact. From a very good bloodline. Did you know that the monks of Dagon were descended from an ancient Scythian priesthood? The most ancient…the first in fact. All gone now, perhaps. Those were the days, I’ll say. What glorious banquets we had.” He paused and rubbed his stomach. “You don’t perhaps have a spot of roast beef lying around?” At that moment Demon strolled into the room and, spotting Ernest, gave a loud meow and jumped up onto his lap. Ernest looked down at the cat hungrily. “You’re not to eat Demon! So...” Dawn said. “Yes, yes…well when you answered the door I had this strange feeling that there was something familiar about you, it wasn’t just the glow. Just now, when I touched your hand, I recognized what it was – all the signs of a Scythian creation spell…very secret stuff, known only to a select few, and only used in times of dire danger. I only experienced it once before. My god, what a terrible time that was. Only a few of us escaped…it was October 13th… well… that’s a tale for another day. So you see my dear…it’s all quite overwhelming…you’re the last thing I expected to find in the midst of all this muddle with Spike and Miss Elizabeth. There must be a reason. I reckon we’ll find out later.” “But how did you know I was Spike’s daughter?” Dawn asked. “My dear, haven’t you looked in the mirror lately? You look just like him. Those cheekbones…” * * * * * Giles and Bertram drove slowly back toward Rose Lyn arguing about what to do next. “I shouldn’t have left him there. There’s absolutely no telling what he’ll do now.” Giles mused. “Believe me he would have killed you. Escape is often the best solution. Run to fight another day is my motto.” Bertram replied. “Yes, it appears that running away has become quite a convenient habit with you, hasn’t it?” “No need to get testy. I’m just trying to be a bit practical. We don’t know that Buffy is dead. And Spike appears to not be interested in a rational discussion of what we must do next. No sense in anybody getting killed or dusted just yet.” “Very easy for you to say, you old meddling fool. You started this whole chain of events. Did you ever think, perhaps, as a professional courtesy to a fellow Watcher, that you might have informed me of your plans for my Slayer? Especially since you read my letter to Spike. You are quite the underhanded little man, aren’t you?” “This type of name calling and argument will get us nowhere, my friend. We must join together, however much you detest the thought. Join forces to recover Miss Summers.” “Well, I hate to admit it, but you’re right.” Giles drove on in silence. About ten minutes later, Bertram broke the silence. “Ah…Giles, there’s something I must ask you.” “Yes?” “Did you take anything from my kitchen pantry, some small blue bottles…and…ah…a little red one, perhaps? “Your little ‘transitional’ potions? A bit of witchcraft? Black magic?” Giles replied. “No, rest assured, we only removed those things specified in your Will.” “No, no, not witchcraft in the sense you’re speaking. Definitely not black magic. But very ancient magic, my man, very, very ancient.” He sighed. “Well if you didn’t take them. It must mean that he found them.” “I take it by ‘he’ you mean Richard. Am I correct in that assumption?” “Yes, it’s quite worrisome, very worrisome.” “Just what is in your little potions?” Bertram didn’t respond. He appeared lost in thought. “Well?” Giles prodded. “Have you ever heard of Star Fire?” * * * * * Tara and Willow were sitting outside on the wall that surrounded Rose Lyn. The two wiccas were watching the full moon as it set beyond the foothills. “Do you think that Buffy’s going to be Ok?” Willow asked. “I hope so. I do feel that she’s still here, on this plane, I mean. I don’t feel like she’s dead or anything. But it’s serious, Willow. There’s lots of odd magic about twins. This Richard guy scares me,” Tara replied. Willow tried to change the subject away from magic. “It’s kind of strange that this wall is circular, don’t you think? Why not build it in a square like a normal fence?” Tara laughed. “Don’t you see it?” “See what?” “This wall is built on the remains of a henge. Look at this stone.” She pointed to the very large stone on which they were sitting. “Some of the stones in this wall are quite large and the others are much smaller, just used as filler between the larger stones. I suspect the large stones once stood vertically.” She jumped off the wall and slowly walked over to the next large stone. “See how they’re placed? And besides, I felt it as soon as I stepped inside the wall. Some very old magic at work here.” “I haven’t done any magic, you know, not since…” Willow said nervously. “I know, Will. But you know, as long as you’re Buffy’s friend, you’re going to be thrown in the way of magic. Perhaps it was just meant to be. Somehow I think that once the difference between white and dark magic is clear to you, down deep in your soul, you’ll be able to claim your gift again.” “How will I know when that is?” Willow asked. “You’ll know, sweetheart.” Tara touched Willow’s face gently and gave her a soft kiss, “You’ll just know. Let’s go back inside, shall we?” * * * * * Giles and Bertram arrived back at Rose Lyn bringing the bad news. They all sat gloomily in the living room trying to decide what to do. Finally Tara spoke up. “A location spell or a spell of revealing, a strong one. But I’ll need help.” She looked at Willow. “We’d need to go back there. All of us.” She looked around the room. There’s only six of us, we need seven.” “What about the cat?” Ernest said. Demon was snuggled down into his lap and purring loudly. “Cat’s are very powerful. Especially this one. Very discerning taste.” He stroked the cat’s silken back gently. Tara gathered the necessary ingredients for the spells. “I always keep stuff in my car trunk, you know, just for emergencies.” “I think we should take a little food along.” Ernest pushed Dawn toward the kitchen. “Come on young lady, I’ll show you how to put together a real feast.” They decided that they should take both cars, just in case, that hopefully, they’d need more room on the way back. Bertram, Dawn and Ernest rode with Giles in his car, with Tara and Willow following behind in the other car. It was just before dawn when they finally drove away from Rose Lyn. * * * * * “Buffy,” Spike gasped at the sound of her voice. He rolled over onto his stomach and continued to cough up seawater. “Did I swallow the whole damn ocean?” She held him as his body convulsed with the effort to free itself from the poisonous water inside his lungs. He finally gave one last heave and blood trickled out of his mouth. “Don’t remember swallowing blood,” he croaked and collapsed back into her arms. “Buffy,” he whispered and passed out. He came back to consciousness to find her slapping him across the face and yelling, “Wake up.” “Haven’t we been through this before,” he said groggily, raising his hands to ward off her blows. “Can’t you come up with a gentler approach for waking me up?” He pulled himself into a sitting position. He saw the tears streaming down her face…took in her bashed and bloodied arm. “Ah love, I’m sorry, so sorry.” He pulled her into his arms. She found his lips and began to kiss him hungrily. He lay back and pulled her across his body, returning her kisses with his own. “My love, love…” he trailed his hands slowly down her back, almost unbelieving in the miracle that he held in his arms. “Are you alright, love?” he asked with concern. “How about that arm? Looks bad.” “I’m fine. Been healing up nicely these past hours. But I think you should get out of these wet clothes,” she said. “Need to get you warm.” She moved off him and stood up. “And then, we need to figure out how to get out of here.” “I’m not going back in that water,” he shivered. As Buffy helped him to remove his clothes, she noticed a large ugly bruise on his chest. She touched it tenderly. “Do you remember being hit by something?” He shook his head. “Don’t remember anything after I was pulled down in the current.” He took a shallow breath. “Hurts to breathe.” She carefully felt his chest and back. “I don’t feel any broken ribs, but this bruise is spreading.” She said worriedly. “Come and lay back down, rest a bit.” She helped him over to a dry place on the sand. He curled up on his side. She sat next to him, stroking his face, drying his hair with the warmth of her hands. He began to shake. “Buffy…” “Hush love, don’t talk. I’ll get you warm. She lay down behind him and snuggled up against his back, resting her injured arm gently over his stomach. “Thought I lost you, love. Wanted to end it all,” he whispered. “I know.” She nuzzled her face against the curve of his neck, and placed her lips against his skin and gave him a soft kiss. “Hush baby. Sleep awhile.” He pulled her hand against his chest and leant back into the warmth of her body and sighed. They both fell into a light slumber. * * * * * They woke to find that the water in the cave had risen several feet and was lapping near their feet. “The tide is rising. We’ve got to get out here. Do you think you can walk?” Buffy asked. Spike turned and faced her. “Think so.” He touched her arm. “How’s your arm?” “Much better. Almost healed.” She raised her arm and winced. “Well, not quite.” “Buffy, there’s something I have to tell you…something happened to me on the beach…when I thought you were gone.” He told her of his anguish and of the fury which almost overwhelmed him. “If we ever get out of here, I need to face what I am, love. You do too. I’m not the only one that needs to make a choice here. It’s your life too.” He looked sadly into her eyes. “Spike, whatever we do, we do it together; face it together.” She kissed him softly, gently stroking his neck and shoulders. Then she told him what happened to her in the tower. “I heard him scream when I threw the iron bar down. Maybe it hit him. Maybe he fell. Don’t know, but if he’s still alive…” “Well let’s see if we can get out of here.” Spike slowly stood up with Buffy’s assistance. Spike put back on his damp clothes and they began to explore the cave. The cave was dimly lit with the moonlight filtering down through the crystal rock in the roof. They found that there was a small opening which led into a tunnel carved into the back of the cave. “I don’t think this is natural. Looks man-made to me. A smuggler’s cave?” Spike ran his hand down the side of the narrow tunnel. “What’s this?” He felt a smooth, thread like carved surface about four feet from the tunnel floor. He walked a few feet forward and realized the smooth surface continued along the wall. “Almost like a rope carved in stone.” He reached back and caught Buffy’s hand. “Stay close we’re going to lose the light in a few feet.” They slowly walked through the passageway. Spike kept his hand lightly on the carved thread as it wound up through the twisting passageway. After they had walked about two hundred yards the walls fell away and they sensed that they were in a large room or cavern. “Look over there!” Buffy pointed to a small sliver of light shining down from the cavern’s roof. “An opening you suppose?” The cavern’s floor was oddly smooth to their feet as they walked over toward the light. “The floor!” Buffy knelt down and ran her hand across the floor illuminated by the light. Buffy brushed the sand away from the flat surface. The floor was covered with tiles in an intricate mosaic of bumblebees and dragonflies flying in frozen dance around a water lily. A long red ribbon of tiles encircled the lily and then led out into the darkness. They examined the ceiling for the source of the light. The roof appeared to be about hundred feet high. Too high for them reach the opening from which the light came. They decided to explore the cavern, following the direction in which the red ribbon of tiles pointed. They found a small arched opening with a set of roughly carved stairs leading upwards. “Up is good,” Buffy said as they climbed up the steeply ascending stairs. After they’d been climbing up the winding stairs for what seemed about fifteen minutes, they found themselves in a tiny room. Spike suddenly gasped and fell to his knees. “Can’t breathe…” Buffy sat down beside him in the darkness. “Let’s rest here awhile. Lie down and catch your breath.” “It’s my chest…feels like it’s on fire.” He put his head down in her lap. She placed her hand on forehead. “You’re burning up!” She exclaimed. * * * * * Giles, Bertram and Tara stood before the tower and discussed where she should perform the spell of revealing. “What is this place, Bertram?” Tara asked. “There’s some very wild energy around this space. Feels similar to the atmosphere at Rose Lyn. When was it built?” She walked over to the tower and stooped down to examine one of the base stones. She ran her hand over its surface and jerked her hand back abruptly. “It’s a refuge of sorts. The tower was built over six hundred years ago. It was built over an existing structure, much older, very ancient.” “Like the wall around Rose Lyn,” Tara said looking down at her hand. “Yes,” Bertram replied giving her a sharp look. “You noticed that, eh?” * * * * * Tara wandered around inside and outside of the tower and finally stopped at a spot just inside the tower door on the bottom floor. She called to the others. “This is the place.” She drew a circle on the floor, completed her preparations of the ingredients for the spell and then instructed them to stand in a circle touching hands. “I need you Willow.” Tara held out her hands to Willow and pulled her into the center of the circle. She gave Willow a dried branch of rosemary and told her to light it in the flame of the tall white candle she’d placed within the circle. Tara chanted the spell. The tower was silent, illuminated only by the glow of the rosemary wand. They all gazed around at each other in solemn anticipation. The sweet scent of rosemary filled the room. After about five minutes, Demon gave a loud yowl, jumped out of Ernest’s arms, and ran over to the wall. He began to scratch desperately against the floor. Giles started to laugh. Tara gave him a dirty look. “Giles!” Tara said. Demon mewed furiously, and ran back and forth between Ernest and the wall. Giles tried to stop laughing. Demon suddenly sprung up onto Ernest’s chest with all claws barred. Ernest lost his balance and fell back onto the floor. They all burst into hysterical laughter. Demon ran back to the wall and paced in a circle furiously waving his tail. He lay down and rubbed his head against the floor. “Ernest, get up you old fool…you’ve broken the circle!” Bertram tried to reprimand him but then started giggling. * * * * * “Wake up Spike. Do you hear that?” Buffy shook Spike’s shoulder. He opened his eyes and slowly sat up. “What is it love?” “Listen,” she said. “Sounds like fighting. Humans and some sort of wild demons from the sound of all that yowling,” he said. “Not fighting. Listen. It’s laughter…they’re laughing,” she said. The next thing they heard was a woman’s voice distinctly crying out “Stop” and then there was silence. “I know that voice…it’s Tara!” She helped Spike to his feet. They both began shouting for help. * * * * * Dawn walked over to the wall to the spot where Demon lay. “Hey Demon, what are you trying to tell us?” She knelt and bent her head down next to the floor and then leaned back and spoke excitedly. “I hear voices! Someone’s down there.” They all came over to where she knelt. Dawn picked up Demon and where he’d been rubbing his head, they saw the glimmer of a large silver colored ring embedded in the old wooden floor. “I swear that wasn’t there before…” Giles bent over and tugged on the ring. There was a loud creaking sound and a small trap door opened in the floor. “Hey down there!” “Giles!” Buffy yelled back in response. “We’re down here. It’s Me! Me and Spike!” * * * * * They carried Spike to Giles’ car. He’d collapsed after they pulled him from the chamber beneath the tower, and was unable to walk. They put him in the back seat and wrapped him up in Giles’ coat. Buffy and Dawn sat on either side of him. He slumped over in Buffy’s arms. Willow sat in the passenger seat next to Giles. Bertram, Ernest and Demon got into the other car with Tara. “He’ll be alright, won’t he Giles?” Buffy asked worriedly. Giles pulled the car out onto the highway and turned his head around to give her a reassuring smile. “Nothing that a nice long nap won’t heal.” But he thought to himself, “That bruise…he’s bleeding badly inside.” * * * * * “This is the smartest cat in the whole universe.” Ernest sat in the back seat of Tara’s car with Demon curled up on his lap. “Yes, yes, you’ve told us that about fifty times,” Bertram let out a loud sneeze. “Cats!” He sniffed and then sneezed again. Continued in 'Star Fire' Back to Dragonfly Home Back to Dark Dreams |