On this, the twenty-second of June, we celebrate the joining of
     Azalea Lissette to Dalton Damon. The page was filled with
     messages of well wishes and signatures of the family and friends
     of the bride. The first to sign was Lissette’s proud mother.
     Margeaux Harberge. I wonder what she was like. She was such a
     brave woman, giving her own life to save her daughter. The next
     was Lissette’s father Henri and he wrote a long message wishing
     his beloved daughter all the happiness she deserved. He loved
     her so much...The third signature was that of someone named
     Wynn Robenstien, who professed that as her oldest and dearest
     friend he would always be there for her. It was sad to think that he
     had likely been killed along with the rest of Lissette's
     beloved...Oddly (well, perhaps not so odd since he was a demon),
     the groom didn’t seem to have anyone in attendance. At least no
     one who signed the book. I began thumbing through the book,
     looking for other clues to my past. I hoped that something in the
     book would trigger some sort of memory. The first several pages
     produced nothing and I began to resign myself to the fact that I
     wasn’t likely to learn anything new. Still, I needed something to
     keep my mind off of Xander.

     I flipped through the book until she found the last page that had
     been written on. Immediately I noticed that the heading of the
     page had changed. On this, the fourteenth of March, we celebrate
     the joining of Alyssa Lauren to Dalton Damon...Other than the
     heading the page was nearly blank. There were only three
     signatures on the page. Two were likely to be Alyssa’s
     parents—Harlan and Marilyn Harper. The third name was nearly
     illegible, but I thought I could make out the first name William or
     something. He loved her. The thought seemed to come from
     nowhere. Perhaps I was actually remembering. I was about to
     start going back through some of the previous pages to see if
     there was anything else that would trigger a memory, but my
     attention was diverted back to Xander as he suddenly tensed and
     made a low guttural sound.

     I set the book aside and, in an attempt to relax him, began once
     again to softly stroke his hair, which was damp with perspiration.
     His fever had broken; it would be only a matter of time before he
     began to awaken. I watched him for several minutes as he slowly
     relaxed and a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. He
     looked so serene that for a moment I nearly forgot where we were,
     and why he was lying there in my arms. I leaned forward and
     planted a light kiss on his forehead, then leaned back again and
     just watched him in his state of peacefulness. All at once,
     however, his smile disappeared, replaced with a shocked
     expression. His eyes flew open and he bolted upright. Obviously
     disoriented, he began to look around wildly trying to regain his
     bearings. I reached for him, intending to pull him back down, but
     my touch sent him into panic mode.

     "Hey, it’s okay," I assured him, whispering into his ear. "I’m here." I
     could feel his heart pounding as I gently wrapped my arm around
     him. "Relax. Your fever’s broken now...Just come on and lie down
     for a few more minutes. We’re going to have to make a break for it
     soon, and you need to gather your strength." I wasn’t sure my
     words were getting through to him until he shook his head to
     refuse. Ignoring his silent protest, I pulled him back into my lap
     and began rubbing his temples to relax him. For a few minutes I
     watched as he seemed to sink deeper into his thoughts. I wanted
     to ask what he was thinking about, but decided that it would be
     best to just stay silent and try to keep him calm.

     After a while Xander pulled away again and sat up. He seemed
     stronger this time and I was fairly sure that if his mind was set to
     leaving that I wasn’t going to be able to make him stay...even if he
     looked like he really needed to rest a while longer. My suspicions
     were confirmed a moment later as he turned to face me. "We’d
     better get going."

     I decided against arguing and nodded. Still, I couldn’t help but
     worry a bit. "Are you feeling well enough? You’re still looking
     pale."

     "I’ll be fine," he answered after a moment. He rose to his feet and I
     could tell that he was struggling to keep his balance. "Let’s go."
     He pushed open the cell door and peeked out into the hallway. I
     still wasn’t sure it was the right time to make our move, but I
     trusted him. It seemed too soon, but if he felt he was ready, then
     we’d go. "Come on," he urged, extending his good hand to me. I
     took it, and followed him out into the hall, then up the stairs.

     He seemed to know where he was going, so I let him lead me
     down a hallway, and watched as he paused to check each of the
     doors to see if they were locked before stopping before a fourth.
     He pressed his ear to this door without even checking the lock,
     like perhaps he already knew what was on the other side. He
     listened for a moment, and I noticed a slight smile tug at his lips
     and a new gleam in his eye. The spark vanished a moment later
     as he turned to me, looking at me critically. In the matter of
     moments, his face displayed a wide range of emotions. The first
     was horror, which was quickly replaced by anger, and for a
     moment I was almost petrified that he was going delirious on me
     again. But then, as he reached forward and carefully pushed my
     hair away from my face, I realized that the anger wasn’t directed at
     me. Then, the anger was gone from his expression, and he was
     gazing at me with an awed tenderness. My heart began pounding
     as he shifted closer to me. "I’m so sorry I got you into this, Wills,"
     he murmured gently, caressing my cheek absently.

     "It’s not your fault," I tried to protest, but he placed his fingers
     against my lips to silence me before I could get the words out.
     "But, I’m going to get you out. I’m going to break the cycle." I didn’t
     like the sound of this. Xander was going to do something
     stupid...he was going to get himself killed! There was no way he
     could fight Dalton and his goons—especially not without Buffy’s
     aid! Didn’t he realize that? "Dalton will never hunt you again..." he
     trailed off, still gazing at me. He looked like he wanted to say
     more, and I was so afraid of what he was going to say that I tried
     once again to object, but he silenced me with his hand and a faint
     smile. "Come on. Let’s get you out of here."

     I nodded, still feeling nervous about his intentions, but for now,
     there wasn’t a whole lot I could do about it. Besides, his top
     priority seemed to be getting out. After we were away, I could
     probably convince him not to do anything without consulting Giles
     and Buffy first. And they would take one look at him and forbid him
     from even accompanying Buffy when she came back
     to...annihilate the demons.

     "Ready?" he asked, motioning toward what appeared to be a
     kitchen. I nodded, and again, he took my hand and escorted me
     into the kitchen. There were three servants busy preparing stuff
     for the wedding feast...and they stood between us and the only
     exit. I groaned inwardly. Xander’s escape route was apparently
     not going to pan out. I sighed and began to turn away, figuring
     that we’d just have to find another way. I stopped in mid-turn as I
     spotted the dumbwaiter. Perfect! If Xander and I could somehow
     get inside that and use it to get up to the second floor, we’d be
     able to go out the same way I’d gotten in. I waited until I had
     Xander’s attention, then mouthed the word "dumbwaiter" to him.
     He didn’t get it, so I tried again, pointing at the cupboard and
     making a little motion like I was using a pulley. The light went on.
     He glanced back at the kitchen workers, then moved swiftly to the
     lift’s door and pulled it open. He peered inside it for a moment,
     then glanced back at me and gave me a slight nod before climbing
     inside. Once he was in, he reached out to help pull me inside.

     It was a tight squeeze, and had it been anyone other than Xander,
     I’m not sure if I could have tolerated it. But in his case...well, his
     presence wasn’t exactly unwelcome against me. I could feel the
     way his heart beat faster as I pulled the door shut, leaving us in
     total darkness again.

     "Are you sure this is a good idea? What if it doesn’t hold?" he
     whispered in my ear, his voice trembling ever so slightly. Since I
     had the same worry I wasn’t sure how to reassure him
     convincingly, so I opted to stay silent. The only way we’d be able
     to tell is if we tried. I reached out and grabbed the pulley and
     began to pull. Xander began helping a moment later and slowly
     we made the lift creep upward inch by inch.

     By the time we reached the second floor, I was feeling fairly
     claustrophobic. I pushed the door open as soon as it came into
     view, and after peering out to make sure that the coast was clear,
     I pushed away from Xander and eased out of the dumbwaiter,
     finding myself in what seemed to be a giant pantry, or walk in
     closet-type room. From the corner of my eye I saw Xander nearly
     toppling over as he tried to get out of the lift. I grabbed him to
     steady him--the last thing we needed was to alert anyone to our
     presence. Once I was sure that he was stable on his own, I made
     my way to the door and peeked out into the hall. Not seeing
     anyone, I gestured for Xander to follow me; we were almost home
     free. Just a few doors down and we'd be back to the room where
     I'd first found him.

     Of course, things are never that easy. We were nearly there when
     I heard a low growling noise that raised the hairs on the back of
     my neck. I tensed and glanced back over my shoulder to see what
     had made the sound. There was only a man at the end of the
     hallway, staring at us with fire in his eyes.

     "Willow, run!" Xander cried, giving me a gentle shove. He didn't
     have to prod me a second time--I dashed toward the bedroom,
     conscious of the fact that the man was giving chase, and he was
     gaining on us.

     I made it into the room first, and I immediately began shoving the
     dresser toward the door--anything we could do to buy time...As
     soon as Xander was in the room, he slammed the door and
     quickly joined me in blocking the entrance. "Willow, go!" he urged,
     pushing me toward the window. Making sure he was right behind
     me, I quickly went to the window and climbed over the sill.

     I was about to start down the trellis when I suddenly started to feel
     sick to my stomach. Something was horribly wrong with this
     plan...I had the sinking feeling that Xander was keeping something
     from me. I hesitated and looked up at him, trying to gage his
     intentions. I didn't like what I saw...

     "Go on. I'll be right behind you," he assured me, but I could see
     from the look on his face that he had no intention of following. But
     why? Surely he wouldn't be stupid enough to stay and fight the
     goon while his hand...his hand! I glanced at his hand and a knot
     formed in my throat. There was no way he could climb down
     one-handed! Oh, Xander, no...I gazed back up at his face and felt
     my heart tightening in my chest. I couldn't leave him to die! I could
     see from his expression that he knew what I was thinking. "Will, I'm
     sorry," he spoke softly as he reached out with his good hand and
     lightly touched my cheek, "for what I'm about to do." And then he
     was gone, rushing toward the man who was breaking into the
     room, grabbing up one of the candlesticks as he went. I watched
     in horror as he bashed the guy with no effect. As he began to
     raise the weapon again the man broke through our barricade.

     At last I found my voice. "Xander, no!" In the next instant I saw
     Xander spin toward me, and for just a brief second our eyes
     locked. I could see the intense fear in his face, and understood
     that it wasn't himself that he was scared for, but me...and
     suddenly I felt like I had been punched in the face and I was
     falling.

     "Willow!" I heard Xander's anguished scream. I'm sorry, Xander.

     I hit the ground a few moments later, but oddly, I didn't feel pain.
     Actually, I didn't feel anything at all. I laid still for a few moments,
     trying to take a mental inventory of my limbs to make sure they
     were all intact. To my horror I couldn't register any feeling
     whatsoever in either of my legs or my arms...I couldn't move. I was
     paralyzed. Oh, God, no...I couldn't be paralyzed; I had to get back
     up there to help Xander...Maybe it was just temporary--like shock
     from the fall or something. I tried to make myself calm down, but I
     kept having visions of the man choking the life out of my best
     friend. Tears formed in my eyes and I tried to reach up to wipe
     them away, and got further frustrated by my inability to move. Be
     calm, Willow. You have to be strong. Remember everything
     happens for a reason...yeah right. I tried to force away the bitter
     thoughts that were making their way into my consciousness. At
     least Dalton probably won't want to marry me now...

     I'm not sure how long I laid there, helpless and alone. Though it
     seemed like hours, I knew that it was likely mere minutes. I was
     almost glad when I finally heard the sound of footsteps on the
     gravel nearing me. Whoever it was would likely kill me, or at the
     very least take me back to my prison cell. Now that Xander was
     probably dead and I was doomed to spend my life knowing that I
     was responsible for it, I welcomed death.

     A handsome blonde man appeared near my head. He knelt down
     and gazed at me, smiling a faint smile that did not hide the
     sadness in his eyes. "Don't be scared, little one," the man
     whispered, gently stroking my cheek. Common sense told me that
     I shouldn't, but there was something about him that for some
     reason, I trusted him fully and completely. "They'll be coming for
     you soon so I don't have much time. I imagine that the healer will
     fix you up for the ceremony..." The wedding. His expression grew
     more somber. "You must be strong...strong as I was not. I could
     not save my Azalea...I could not break the cycle." His expression
     grew more distant.

     His Azalea...Lissette. Was this Wynn? He must have loved
     her...his pain was still intensely apparent. Yet, he was not
     mentioned in Giles' book...he must have loved her from afar, likely
     suffering in silence watching as she wed someone else. He'd said
     something about breaking the cycle...hadn't Xander said
     something about that too? Was Xander Wynn reincarnate? It
     would only stand to reason that if Lissette returned, Wynn would,
     too, their destinies being intertwined and all. Perhaps then,
     Xander was still alive. They'd probably want him to sign the book
     along with...my parents! Oh, God, what if they had my parents
     locked up somewhere here...Mom would be so terrified, and Dad
     would...well, Dad would positively freak, being forced to watch his
     only daughter being forced into marriage.

     "Azalea and I are counting on you to help end this. When the time
     comes, you must remember not to let your emotions get the better
     of you. Don't lose control or you will help Azalea no better than I. If
     you are patient, the time to act will become apparent." And then,
     he was fading...as if he were a ghost or something...then again, I
     suppose that's exactly what he was. I wanted to call out to him to
     wait--to tell me what to do when the time was right--but I
     couldn't...I could hear the sound of someone else approaching.

     A strange little man appeared in the corner of my vision. "Dalton
     mentioned that I would find you here," he called in a greeting.

     "Goody for him," I muttered.

     He snorted back a slight chuckle and knelt down beside me. "It
     seems, dear child, that we have a bit of work to do before the
     ceremony."