"Shhhh...you’re going to be okay. The fever’s broken," she
     murmured. "Just rest. Don’t try to talk..." She smiled down at me
     and ran her fingers softly across my forehead, brushing the damp
     hair away from my eyes. I was lying partially in her lap...which
     could not have been comfortable for her. I started to sit up, but
     she firmly pulled me back down. "Just lie still a few more minutes.
     You're going to have to try to make a run for it in a few minutes, so
     you've got to save your strength while you can."

     I nodded carefully. Every movement I made sent another wave of
     agony through my body. That was certainly not going to be good
     when we tried to make our getaway. I wanted to get up and start
     going now, but I knew she was right. I needed to rest.
     Unfortunately from the way I was feeling, I was going to need to
     rest a lot longer than the time we had to spare was going to allow.
     But I obliged, settling back into her lap. Somehow it felt right to be
     there. It was almost as if we were one.

     For the next few minutes she continued to stroke my head,
     humming very softly, almost as if she was doing it subconsciously.
     It was very relaxing, and I could feel my strength slowly
     replenishing. Part of me knew I was going to have to move soon,
     but the rest of me wanted to stay there forever. She seemed to
     realize it, too, so she made the decision for me. "It's time to go
     now, Alexander," she whispered. Her long hair grazed my cheek
     as she leaned forward to plant a kiss on my forehead. "I'm so sorry
     I got you into this..." I tried to protest, but she cut me off before I
     could even get a word out. "Please be careful...I'm counting on
     you to end this." End this? You're counting on me to kill Dalton?
     I'd do anything for Willow, but I don't think I'm--"Good-bye,
     Alexander. I'll pray for you." She began to fade, suddenly
     surrounded in a translucent flame.

     I bolted upright, my eyes flying open. Where was I? And why was I
     covered in water...no, not water--sweat. I was drenched. And I
     was hot...so hot...and I was wearing a sweater. Why was I
     wearing a sweater in that kind of heat? The sweater was pretty
     much soaked with perspiration.

     I nearly jumped out of my skin as I felt an arm wrap around my
     chest, and would probably have screamed if my mouth hadn't
     been so dry. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here," a familiar voice whispered
     in my ear. Willow. I realized that we were in her prison cell. Had
     she dragged me in here herself? How long had I been out? How
     much time had I wasted? "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 shook my head, but she firmly pulled me back so that I was lying
     partially in her lap. She began gently massaging my temples. For
     a few minutes, I laid there silently plotting our escape. It wouldn't
     do just to leave--we'd have to do something to throw Dalton of our
     trail...otherwise he'd just try again. Maybe there would be a way to
     fake Willow's death? But how could we do it and be convincing
     enough to fool the demon? He’d eventually figure it out and come
     after her again. In order to break the cycle I was going to have to
     do something a bit more drastic. But what? My mind was still fairly
     foggy and I was coming up blank. I supposed I would just have to
     cross that bridge when I came to it. But first, I was going to have to
     get Willow away from the compound without being caught. It was
     time to go. I pulled away from Willow and sat up. I wiped the sweat
     from my brow and turned to face her. "We’d better get going," I
     announced.

     She nodded. "Are you feeling well enough?" she asked worriedly.
     "You’re still looking pale."

     I was feeling pretty weak, but knew that we were already likely to
     be playing on borrowed time. We couldn’t spend any more time
     waiting for me to recover fully--I’d just have to force the pain into
     the back of my mind and try to keep my mind focused on getting
     us out. "I’ll be fine." I rose to my feet, feeling somewhat shaky, but
     I didn’t want to alert Willow to the potential problem—she’d only
     insist that we wait a while longer. We so did not have time for
     that..."Let’s go." I carefully pushed open the cell door and peeked
     down the dark hallway. If anything was out there, it was hidden
     too well in the shadows, so I could only assume that the coast was
     clear. I looked back to Willow, who was looking excessively
     nervous. I did my best to smile reassuringly. "Come on." I
     extended my left hand to her and gripped hers tightly when she
     took hold of it. For a moment our eyes connected and I could see
     the fear and determination in her eyes. And complete trust...faith
     that we would somehow get through this. We will, I promise you,
     Wills, I vowed silently. I would get her out if it was the last thing I
     did—Dalton would NOT claim her as his bride. Never.

     With Willow’s hand still grasped in mine, we began our escape.
     Very quietly we slipped from the cell and crept down the hall
     toward the staircase, then quickly ascended to the main floor and
     into the servants’ hallway. Then, we were faced with figuring on
     which way to go. The first door was still locked, as was the
     second...and the third. Which left the room where I had overheard
     the whole scene with the women or the kitchen. I figured there
     was a pretty good chance that the women had finished up the
     dress and headed over to the chapel, but I pressed my ear to the
     door to try and listen in—just in case.

     "...stupid book? It’s not here! Dalton is going to be so mad if he
     finds out I lost it..." Despite the fact that we wouldn’t be able to go
     out the way I’d come, I grinned slightly to myself. Unfortunately,
     with that route blocked, it left only going through the kitchen. Of
     course things can never be that easy. I could hear servants
     working from within the kitchen’s depths. There was just no good
     alternative here. We could try to break down one of the locked
     doors, but that would surely arouse attention...and experience told
     me that picking the lock would take way too long...

     I glanced at Willow, and for the first time since she had left me
     upstairs, I really got a good look at her. Fury stirred up within me
     as I saw the new bruises on her face and the dried blood in her
     hair. Kaelan was going to pay...well, not that I’d really be able to
     fight him in my current condition...but somehow I’d find a way to
     make him pay for beating her like that. And Willow hadn’t once
     complained that she was hurt. My anger melted as I was struck by
     the enormity of her bravery. I reached out and gently pushed her
     mussed hair away from her battered face. "I’m so sorry I got you
     into this, Wills," I whispered. She shook her head and opened her
     mouth to protest, but I put my finger across her lips to silence her.
     "But I’m going to get you out," I continued remembering how her
     counterpart in my dream had told me that she was counting on
     me. "I’m going to break the cycle. Dalton will never hunt you
     again..." Willow’s eyes widened with panic and I could see the
     objection written all over her face, but again I silenced her. "Come
     on. Let’s get you out of here."

     She relaxed, apparently deciding that I wasn’t going to try
     anything rash. And I wasn’t...at least, not yet. I wasn’t stupid—I
     knew I was in no shape to fight. I’d get Willow safely away, then
     go and enlist Buffy’s help. And maybe Giles had come up with
     something useful...Giles! God, what if he was still trapped in the
     library? Part of me wanted to ask Willow if she knew what had
     happened to him, but I decided it would be best not to worry her if
     she didn’t already know what had happened. Besides, Kaelan and
     Martel had him trapped in his office. Why would they have
     bothered to do that if they had intended to kill him? They’d only
     been after me...but why? Surely they would have realized that
     Giles was important to Willow, too? Why had they only taken me?
     Focus, Xander.

     I wasn’t sure which way we should go. On one hand, I knew what
     we’d have to deal with if we went into the servant’s quarters.
     There were only the two women, and they didn’t really look like
     they’d be much of a fight...but then again, looks were often
     deceiving. On the other, I didn’t know who we’d find in the kitchen,
     but there was possibly a back door or some way to get out of the
     house faster...and it was entirely possible that we could get out
     unnoticed, depending on how busy the staff was. Surely they
     were preparing some sort of feast for the wedding banquet and
     would be preoccupied with that. It was worth a shot. "Ready?" I
     whispered, motioning toward the kitchen.

     Willow nodded in agreement. I again took her hand and we crept
     quietly into the kitchen. There were only three workers that I could
     see in the kitchen, and they were all busy at work, fully absorbed
     in their tasks. As I had hoped, there was a back door, but because
     things could never be that easy—it was on the other side of the
     room. We’d have to somehow get past the workers without being
     seen...and that just didn’t seem likely, no matter how busy they
     were stirring and baking and...and icing a giant cake. But what
     else could we do? I glanced at Willow, to see what she thought we
     should do. Her attention wasn’t on the door, but on a pair of
     cupboards that were right next to us. One was really large, with a
     small thin one next to it. It was an odd place for cupboards—pretty
     much away from the activity of the kitchen. Whoever had placed
     them there...A grin broke out on Willow’s face and she mouthed
     something to me. I couldn’t read what she was trying to tell me.
     "What?" I mouthed back, shrugging for emphasis.

     "Dumb waiter," she mouthed again. Why was she talking about
     the stupid servants? My confusion must have shown on my face
     because she rolled her eyes and pointed at the cupboards again.
     Then she made a motion as if she were climbing a rope, and then
     pointed at the cupboard again. She was going absolutely
     cra—then it hit me. Dumbwaiter. It wasn’t a cupboard. It was one
     of those mini-elevator things that servants used to get food
     upstairs. She was suggesting that we escape in the dumbwaiter.
     Sure. We could get upstairs and then we’d just climb down the
     same trellis that Willow had...I glanced at my hand and cringed.
     That would never work. I’d never be able to climb down one
     handed. On the other side, we didn’t really have any better
     alternatives. It was worth a shot. I carefully opened the cupboard
     door and peered inside. It was pretty large, but was certainly not
     intended to hold people. I wondered if it would be able to hold
     both of us. And would we be able to work it from the inside? I
     could see the ropes, so it looked like it would be feasible. I
     glanced at Willow and nodded. This would have to do. I carefully
     climbed into the lift and reached out to help Willow in. It was a
     very tight squeeze and we were pressed tightly against each
     other, but we managed to fit. Willow pulled the door shut, leaving
     us once again in utter darkness.

     "Are you sure this is a good idea? What if it doesn’t hold?" I
     whispered. I also wasn’t sure I’d be able to work the pulley...and
     Willow might not be strong enough. I had a horrible image of us
     getting between floors and then not being able to go any
     farther—stuck literally within the walls of Dalton’s villa. Our villa, I
     started to correct myself. Where did that come from? I pushed the
     odd thought away and reached for the rope. Willow had already
     grabbed it and together we started pulling, slowly inching the
     platform upward.

     It seemed like an eternity before we finally reached the second
     floor, but at last the inside of a cupboard door came into sight.
     Willow pushed it open and carefully extracted herself from the tiny
     confines. I quickly followed suit, nearly falling on my face as I
     tumbled out. Willow grabbed me to keep me upright.

     Once I was steadied, I looked around to see where we were.
     Apparently a servant’s station. There were shelves stocked with
     towels and various cleaning supplies and a cart for food trays, but
     no window. We’d have to try to get back to the master bedroom
     unnoticed. Willow was already at the door, peeking out into the
     hall. She motioned for me to follow, then slipped out into the
     corridor. I trailed after her, nervously keeping watch for Dalton or
     any of his goons. I kept expecting that at any moment we would be
     discovered.

     Unfortunately, I was right.

     We were almost back to the main bedroom when I heard a growl
     come from somewhere behind me. I turned and saw a strange
     man standing at the far end of the hallway. Willow saw him the
     same time I did, and I felt her tense beside me. "Willow run!" I
     urged, prodding her forward. Without another moment of
     hesitation, she was running. I could hear the man pounding down
     the hallway toward us, and I did my best to remain reasonably
     calm as we ducked into the master bedroom. I slammed the door
     shut behind us and Willow quickly began pushing the dresser in
     front of the door to block it. It probably wouldn’t do a whole lot of
     good. She didn’t have time to waste with trying to hold him off. I
     would have to do it.

     "Willow, go!" I insisted, shoving her toward the window where she
     had first climbed in. I ushered her to the window and helped her
     over the sill. She hesitated there, staring at me worriedly. "Go on.
     I’ll be right behind you," I lied. I knew darn well that if she waited
     for me, there would be no way for her to escape. It was going to
     be too hard for me to climb down the trellis—I would only slow her
     down and cause her to be caught. I was going to stay behind and
     hold Dalton’s goon off as long as I could—I was going to buy her
     enough time to get away. She seemed to sense that I wasn’t being
     honest because she didn’t move; she just kept staring at me. Her
     eyes darted to my wounded hand, then back at my face. In that
     moment, realization dawned on her. I wasn’t going to make it, and
     she knew it. "Will, I’m sorry..." I apologized, "for what I’m about to
     do." Before she could protest, I turned and rushed back toward
     the master bedroom door. The man was forcing it open, not being
     terribly hindered by the added weight of the dresser.

     I grabbed up one of the candlesticks and swung it at his head as
     he pushed his way inside. It flew from my hand as it struck its
     target, but it didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. I should have
     known. He was just another demon...

     "Xander, no!" I heard Willow cry out as the man burst through the
     door. I turned to yell at her to keep going, but to my horror, all I
     saw was a ball of light as it flashed across the room, aimed at her.
     I was helpless to do anything as the ball hit her, knocking her off
     her perch.

     "Willow!" I screamed as I rushed toward the window, ignoring the
     man’s roar. Before I managed to even make it halfway across the
     room, I felt the man tackle me and I was thrown to the floor. I
     scrambled away and whirled to face him. He had already
     completed his transformation to demonic form. I reached out and
     grabbed another candlestick and swung again with all the strength
     I could muster. The thing didn’t even flinch. It grabbed the stick
     and ripped it from my grip effortlessly. Before I could even
     consider dodging, it grabbed me around the neck and lifted me
     from the ground, strangling me.

     I thrashed my body, trying to break free from the demon’s hold. A
     few times I managed to graze him with my arm or my legs, but it
     was no use—-he was much too strong for me. Fortunately, his
     purpose didn’t seem to be to kill me. Otherwise, I would likely
     already be dead...like my best friend possibly was...NO! Besides,
     he couldn't kill Willow...she being Dalton's bride and all...

     I lashed out with my one good hand, trying to gouge the demon’s
     eyes. It roared in fury as I hit my mark and dug in as hard as I
     could. It flung me away as if I weighed nothing. A moment later, I
     found myself flat on my back with him on top of me, pinning me
     down. He grinned down at me as I struggled unsuccessfully to get
     away. As he began to laugh at my efforts, I made myself
     stop—furious at myself for giving him satisfaction. "Let me up, you
     bastard," I growled at him.

     He eyed me curiously, still smirking. Then, ever so slowly, his face
     lowered toward mine and very quietly, he uttered words that
     changed everything. "Welcome home, love. You always were a
     feisty wench..."