Chapter Six:
A Walk In The DarkEven as they climbed the stairs Buffy could tell her best friend was more nervous than she wanted to let on. Buffy noted Willow’s look of utter concentration and held her tongue as they went down the hall.
“Buffy, promise me something,” Willow said softly when they were safely in the upstairs bathroom with the door closed.
“I’ll take care of Tara,” Buffy said softly. “Even if I have to punch you.”
“Thanks,” Willow said. Then she looked at Buffy with a small grin. “You agreed to that awfully quick, and leapt right to the punching. I think you might be looking forward to clobbering me.”
“Me?” Buffy asked with exaggerated innocence.
“You,” Willow laughed. She and Buffy smiled for a moment, then Willow looked away. “You may have to, if what I think is happening is the real deal.”
“You don’t know anything yet,” Buffy replied quickly.
“He’s strong and, and my power isn’t exactly mine anymore,” Willow said calmly. “His place doesn’t really touch the Earth either. That means he’s powerful. He may even be a necromancer.”
“A what?” Buffy asked.
“A necromancer,” Willow shuddered. “Kind of the Grand Master of bad magic. He’s an adept at least.”
“Hello, blonde here,” Buffy said worriedly. “Adept? Necromancer? What’s the difference, besides necromancer sounding a lot more bad news in a magic kind of way?”
“An adept is any mage that can manipulate high magic, I mean making the Titanic float again kind of magic. A necromancer is an adept who does all the black magic stuff. Demons, blood magic, and death magic, hence the necro part of necromancer.”
“Are we talking zombies and stuff like that?” Buffy asked with a shudder. “Because I really hate the whole living dead thing.”
“Sorry.”
“No, Will, I didn’t mean…” Buffy replied hurriedly.
“I know,” Willow said softly. “I meant about getting you into this mess.”
“What else would I do on a weekend?” Buffy asked with a shrug. “Let’s get back to the others.”
Willow nodded and they stood up and went downstairs. At the landing Buffy realized Willow had stopped. She looked back at her friend. Willow had her eyes closed and she was sweating suddenly. Then she opened her eyes. They were black as onyx. Buffy didn’t think, she moved with Slayer speed and precision, but not strength. Willow’s head snapped back and the slim girl fell into Buffy’s arms. Tara was suddenly standing beside them, putting her strong hands on either side of Willow’s face.
“She is her own,” Tara snarled. Willow seemed to shudder. Tara closed her eyes and touched her forehead to Willow’s.
And she’s MINE! Tara sent to the darkness that fled before her.
Willow groaned and opened her eyes. Tara leaned back and sighed when she saw that they were green again. Willow touched a bruise forming on her jaw and glared at Buffy.
“You weren’t you,” Buffy said with a hint of embarrassment.
“I think he knows that we know,” Giles said tersely.
“He’ll make another try for her,” Tara said with forced calm. “She’s too good to let go.”
“Yeah,” Willow said bitterly. “He won’t be able to turn down a tasty morsel like me.”
“Then we break his jaw,” Buffy said angrily. “Where do we go and who do I hit?”
Just then the doorbell rang. The group jumped and then Buffy leapt at the door and swung it open. Anya took one look at the group inside and glared at Xander.
“I think you’re going to regret not wanting to deal with airline schedules,” Anya said with a frown.
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“A necromancer?” Anya asked nervously.
“Yes,” Giles sighed. “And he’s a necromancer who knows we’re on to him.”
“This is not good,” Anya said in a small voice.
“An, what is it?” Xander asked softly, trying and failing to keep the worry out of his voice.
“Years ago, back in the Depression, there was this necromancer who came to Sunnydale, only he didn’t call himself Rack then,” Anya started looking away at something only she could see. “He had some frilly name to go with his pretty boy looks. This necromancer, the Master and Prosperexa all wanted the power in the Hellmouth.”
“Who’s Prosperexa?” Willow asked.
“She was big back in the teens and twenties,” Anya explained. “In the thirties when everyone was worried about finding work and the news from the rest of the world so she set herself up a cult. Really she was just this human jumped up to a minor demon to start with, but she a really good eye for young and stupid magic users.”
“I’m assuming she fed off their power,” Giles said thoughtfully.
“Which put her in competition with the necromancer,” Willow said uneasily.
“It also made her powerful enough to stop being a minor demon,” Anya said. “She really wanted to be a goddess.”
“The Master was trapped in an earthquake in 1936,” Buffy observed.
“Really it wasn’t all about him, not that he’d ever admit it,” Anya replied. “It really was a fight between the mage and the demon. Prosperexa’s temple was buried in the earthquake, her followers were drained by the necromancer, and then fancy idiot kind of blew his shot at controlling the Hellmouth. He miscalculated the Master’s age and the spell blew up in his face. At least that’s what we all kind of thought happened. No one wanted to get close enough to the smoking remains to be sure.”
“So Rack and Prosper-whosis trapped the old vamp,” Xander said shuddering at the memory of the grotesque vampire. “But that was in the thirties. This Rack can’t really be the same guy, right?”
“Was Rack a handsome man?” Giles asked looking at Willow.
“Only if you like craggy scarred guys,” Willow answered with a shudder. “Very off putting of timber in general.”
“Then Rack is not the same man,” Giles explained. “He’s a damaged, perhaps almost entirely drained, adept of the darkest arts. He may have only a fraction of his power.”
“He’d only be able to take on other human mages now, not major demons,” Anya added helpfully. “I’d hoped he really was dead.”
“Perhaps very damaged if hasn’t been able to repair his scars,” Giles mused.
“But it’s been sixty years,” Xander said.
“Necromancers can live for a thousand years or more,” Anya said closing her eyes. “All that life they rip away keeps them young and pretty.”
“Why does he want Willow?” Xander asked. Then he shook his head and frowned. “Never mind. I get it.”
“Scarred after sixty years, but he has the power to summon demons?” Tara wondered aloud.
Tara looked at her love and frowned for a second. Then Willow stood up and looked at Tara. Willow smiled and brought up her hand fast. Buffy started to move only to have Willow’s other hand throw off a large spark that slammed the Slayer to the floor. Giles stepped behind the redhead before she could touch Tara with a now glowing hand. Willow collapsed into Tara’s arms.
“Mine,” Tara growled softly, her blue eyes almost glowing for a moment.
Willow opened her eyes and clung to Tara. The blonde witch saw the fear welling up in those green pools. Behind Willow Buffy got up shakily.
“Tara?” Willow asked softly. “What hit me?”
“Rack tried again, and Giles stopped you,” Tara said. “I’m going to do something.”
“No, he’s too strong!” Willow gasped.
“There may be something stronger,” Tara said with a hopeful smile. “Xander, come here. Willow, hold the crystal.”
Xander stood beside Tara and looked very unsure as Willow clutched the doll’s eye crystal like a lifeline. Tara touched Xander’s arm and the crystal. Her eyes glowed briefly. Xander smothered a giggle. Willow’s eyes flew open.
“Only because she’s gay,” Anya muttered.
“Sorry,” Xander said embarrassedly. “It tickled.”
“I’ve tapped into the spell on Xander,” Tara explained. “But I don’t know how long it will last.”
“Warren,” Willow said distantly. “He’s coming in the backyard on the alley side. He-He shoots Buffy and he runs away and-TARA!!”
“Willow!” Tara shouted. “I’m here. It’s okay! It’s okay. I won’t leave you.”
Willow clung to Tara for a moment, her hands running over the blonde witch to make sure she was real. Then Willow scowled bitterly at Xander and Buffy.
“Why didn’t you two stop him?” she spat angrily.
“Honey, it’s okay, I’m here,” Tara said pulling Willow close.
“Okay, first Rack, and then we find Warren,” Buffy growled. “Then Xander and Anya get married and nothing interrupts the wedding and everyone gets a happily ever after.”
“Right!” Anya agreed emphatically. “Especially the wedding part.”
“Giles, Tara,” Buffy said evenly. “How do we stop Rack?”
“I need to go there,” Tara said quickly.
“Not alone,” Giles said quickly.
“Willow may need to go too,” Tara said hesitantly.
“And me,” Buffy added.
“Let’s just skip to the part where we all go,” Anya said with the fear in her voice mostly concealed.
“All of us?” Giles asked looking at Anya.
“I’ve come too far in my wedding planning to let those three out of my sight,” Anya replied. “Bridesmaids are hard enough to find, let alone a Maid of Honor and the Best Man. Besides, Xander will whine if he doesn’t go along.”
“And where I go, you go,” Xander said with a gentle smile.
“Damn straight,” Anya agreed.
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Jonathon saw them walk by him. They were all there in a row walking away from him with Harris and his bottle blonde shopkeeper girlfriend at the end. He shifted the wooden flute and felt the cold steel of the revolver dig into him. He had a clear shot at the Slayer. She’d never know what hit her. Jonathon watched them until they turned the corner. He stared down the road where they’d gone. He looked down at the flute in his hands, the magic ready to reach Harris. He could make the spell work as long as the carpenter was in earshot, and now no one would see Jonathon play the spell.
Jonathon lifted the flute and brought it down across his knee. The old wood snapped. Then he took out the revolver, emptied it and tossed the shells down a storm drain followed by the pieces of the flute. He placed the revolver in his pocket, then turned and walked toward downtown, away from the slayer and her friends with his hands jammed into his pockets and his shoulders hunched at the night. There was a building site on his path. It took a bit of effort but the thirty-eight disappeared into the foundation of an unborn Doublemeat Palace.
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“Why is she coming?” Willow asked as she looked back at Anya and Xander. “She’s obviously frightened of Rack, or Prosperexa, or both.”
“Because she’s family,” Tara said easily.
“I’m not worth all this,” Willow said dejectedly.
“Let us be the judges of that,” Tara said firmly.
Willow just smiled bravely at Tara. The wind slipped by and an old newspaper billowed slowly across the sidewalk into the street. The warehouses and old shuttered businesses added to the gloom of the night. The harsh glare of the streetlights and the security lamps made the shadows deeper. Willow felt the nearness of Rack’s lair as they turned into a broad alley next to a vacant lot that had once been a building. Willow nodded and stopped. Tara looked at the vacant lot. She let go of Willow’s hand as the others caught up to them.
“I need to do something,” Tara said firmly. “Anya, I want you to hold onto this.”
“But…okay,” Anya said as she took the doll’s head crystal and held it like a holy relic.
“What are you going to do?” Willow asked worriedly.
“I need to get back to my roots,” Tara said with a shrug and an embarrassed smile. “I’ll need the water, Anya.”
Anya handed Tara the bottled water. Tara walked into the vacant lot, followed loosely by the others. Willow clutched Buffy’s hand. Here and there dispirited weeds poked their stems through the remnants of an old foundation. Tara poured a little of the water over a patch of dandelions in the middle of the lot. Then she put her hands into the new mud.
“This is where I come from,” Tara said softly. “Take what I have to offer and give me what is mine.”
The breeze stilled for a second. A shadowy form became a cat under one of the pools of light. It stared at Tara and seemed to nod. Then it scurried away. Tara stood up and looked at Willow.
“Take me to him,” she said quietly.
“What about us?” Xander asked shifting his grip on the axe.
“We have the hardest part,” Giles said quietly. “We have to wait.”
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Willow felt the border of Rack’s domain slip over her like a greasy bubble. She blinked in the dim light of the waiting room. Tara’s hand was both a source of strength and deep worry. What if this was all a trap for Tara? Was Warren working with Rack? Would she be holding Tara’s still form? The red-haired witch shook away the image.
“It’s okay,” Tara said as she squeezed Willow’s hand. Willow almost let go when she felt the still tacky mud.
“That all depends on how you look at things, little witch,” Rack said lazily. “Hi, Strawberry. Let’s finish this in my office.”
Rack turned to a door Willow hadn’t seen before. It was covered in a hellish rococo of intertwined figures. He opened it and walked in. He leaned on an enormous and elaborate desk. Rack leered at them as they entered, his scarred face making the look obscene. Willow felt her hope fade until Tara walked up to Rack without a shiver.
“Pretty and brave both, little dirt witch,” Rack said raising his eyebrows. “But you can’t touch the Earth here.”
“I don’t need to, Prosperexa,” Tara said harshly. Then she punched Rack in the face with a muddy fist, drawing blood from a split lip. “I brought it with me.” The witch looked at the blood and mud on Rack’s face and bared her teeth. “Blood and earth and true name-RETURN!”
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“We’ll know the signal, right?” Xander asked looking at Giles.
“For the last time, yes,” Giles said tiredly.
Anya let out a gasp as the crystal in her hand flared with light. There was a bass groan from the vacant lot as an irregular form of wood and stone suddenly appeared and then began to come apart. From the earth below the collapsing structure hundreds of gray human forms broke through. Some were complete, some little more than skeletons. They grabbed the wreckage and began to pull it apart.
“Yeah, that’s a signal,” Xander said in a stunned voice.
Then he rushed forward with Anya and her Louisville Slugger behind him.
“Never a chainsaw around when you need one,” Giles complained as he ran toward the wreck.
“Who needs a chainsaw?” Buffy asked as she tore open a wall and sent several corpses flying. “I knew there were going to be zombies, I just knew it! I’ll never get this sweater clean.”
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Willow fell against a chair as the room bucked under her. Rack lurched up off his desk in the now slanted room. He reached for Tara but the blonde witch kicked him as hard as she could in the crotch. Rack didn’t react until the kick landed. Then he fell forward as Tara grabbed the desk for support.
“How?” he groaned.
“He was vain but you never got rid of the scar because you gave it to him before you took his body,” Tara said roughly. “The fact that you didn’t know to protect your groin just confirms it. I hope it hurts, bitch!”
“I will have my vessel!” Prosperexa groaned as her current form reached clumsily for Willow. “I’m tired of being a man!”
Tara pushed Rack this time and he flew back down the tilted room to the wall. The wood gave slightly and half a dozen arms, some more covered in gray flesh than the others grabbed him. Rack screamed as they began to pull at his body. One figure broke through the floor and looked at Willow with dead eyes. It tried to make a sound but only the mouth moved. Then Buffy was there, pulling apart the opposite wall. Xander rushed forward and helped Willow to her feet. Giles reached for Tara just as she lost her balance over a broken part of the floor. Giles pulled her back.
“Everyone out!” he shouted.
Tara could just make out Anya as she leapt from the now collapsing room. Xander and Willow were behind her, then Giles and Tara. Buffy leapt out of the billowing smoke and wreckage to land gracefully on the uneven ground of the vacant lot.
“Everybody safe?” she asked.
“We’re fine,” Willow answered. “Finey-oh, never mind.”
Willow relaxed. Then a gray hand closed on hers and she looked into the dead eyes framed in dark hair of the corpse rising from the ground.
Edited by: jixer at: 2/22/04 11:46 pm
...I shudder at the evilness of it all, can't wait for the next part. 
Like everyone else I like the way you're protraying Jonathon.
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