by jixer » Thu Dec 01, 2005 3:37 pm
Chapter Six
Tara looked out into what she thought must be Hell. Spike lounged there against an ancient pillar, still in his duster and still smoking a filterless cigarette.
“Spike?” asked in horrified wonder.
“Yeah,” Spike said with a sneer. “Where did you think I’d be? Demon, remember?”
“Yes,” Tara said with a wince. She looked down only something was wrong. Her hair was black. Tara lifted it away but stopped when she saw her ebony fingernails.
“On me they look good,” Spike said lazily. “You need a different color though.”
Tara just stared at her glistening black nails with a rising horror.
“Oh, come on now!” Spike said impatiently. “You think you’re going to be up to gettin’ Red out of her hocus-pocus prison going around like a bloody ingenue? You’ve touched the dark before.”
“I-I-I d-d-didn’t know-”
“Well now you do,” Spike snapped. “You go into this all scared and boo-hooin’ and you’re going to get eaten up right bloody quick, and you know I’m right.”
Tara looked up at the vampire and really saw him as was now. The duster was scuffed and the vampire inside looked threadbare and ill-used.
“I’m sorry,” Tara began.
“Watch your words,” Spike warned. “Sorry’s got elements of guilt running in through it. That charming word regret holds guilt too. Not that ‘I’m sorry’ does any good here.”
Tara just winced. Spike sighed.
“I’m sorry too,” he said tiredly. “Tell Buffy, well, just tell her I was a vampire and we don’t really know love. Except I came damn close with her and when she said no the vamp couldn’t take losing the best thing he’d ever had.”
“I’ll tell her,” Tara promised.
“You’d better get some spine then if you’re gonna keep your promises,” Spike warned.
“Promises?” Tara asked looking at him closely.
“Yeah,” Spike said calmly. “I want one too.”
“W-W-What do you want?” Tara asked warily.
“After you get your girl back I want you an’ her to do the same mojo Red did to Angel for Dru,” Spike said meeting Tara’s eyes. “I want you to give her a chance to stay out of here.”
“But if she gets her soul won’t she still be, um,,,
“Fruitier than a pineapple plantation?” Spike asked bitterly. “Don’t know, luv. Angel was truly fucked up by that soul or what ever it was. Maybe it’ll knock some sense into Drusilla. It’s about the only hope I’ve got ‘round here.”
Tara winced inwardly at the resigned, almost broken tone in Spike’s voice. She just nodded.
“Promise me,” Spike insisted.
“I-I promise,” Tara said softly. “And-and thank you.”
“You better get back,” Spike said curtly. “Buffy and her flying Zippo have their knickers in a twist.”
===========================================================
Buffy’s panic was building. She still don’t know why she’d looked in the living room. She’d seen Tara slumped over the damned book with her face on the open pages. Now that Buffy was trying with a desperately gentle force to separate Tara from the book the Slayer could see the printed words crawling over Tara’s skin. Suddenly Tara seemed to awake and sit up. Buffy tore the book from Tara’s hands. A blue-white flare of light knocked the Slayer to the ground. Betty flared a bright yellow and hovered over the book with her sphere full of flame. The pages rippled in a snarl.
“That’s enough!” Tara barked. “Be still!”
The book riffled it’s pages and then stayed closed and silent.
===========================================================
“What the HELL kind of wish was was that?!?”
Spike turned and lifted an eyebrow as a young Vengeance Demon appeared turning magenta in his fury.
“You stupid fucking vampire!” the demon bellowed. “Do you know how dangerous she is? Why do you think I went through the trouble of finding you? Vengeance, remember? She killed you!”
“I took my vengeance,” Spike shrugged. “Guilt trips are bloody nasty rides.”
“GUILT TRIP?!?” the demon shrieked. “I use up a month’s worth of magic to act around the manna field of the single most dangerous magic book in the multiverse and you lay a piss poor guilt trip on her? A bunch of doddering old fools are going to give her the bloody Orb of Petbe and you-ACKK!”
Spike shifted into his hunting face as he added a bit of pressure to the hold he suddenly had on the young demon’s throat. He leaned forward and grinned with too many very sharp teeth.
“I was wondering why a Vengeance Demon came to Hell and offered me a shot at my killer,” Spike growled. “Now listen to me, boy! You’ve gone and broken all sorts of rules, and they’re big on rules down here. I used my wish, got it?” In the distance a black cloud appeared, moving across the desolation with red lightning. “Looks like somebody’s noticed. Now unless you want to talk to management I’d suggest you take your leave.”
Spike opened his hand. The demon looked beyond the vampire and vanished with a frightened squeak.
===========================================================
“You commanded the book and it obeyed,” Betty observed in a dry tone.
“It’s the way it has to be for now,” Tara said with a quiet resolve.
“What does that mean?” Buffy asked as she picked herself up off the floor.
“It means I’ll be dealing with dark magic,” Tara explained meeting Buffy’s eyes. “Definitely blood magic and probably death magic. I am going to have to touch those magics to get Willow back. I may even have to command them because I have to break the spell, and breaking a spell means anything bound to Rack will then bind to me.”
“Is there a return to sender option?” Buffy asked hopefully.
“I can’t just let those spells and forces back into the world,” Tara said firmly.
“Have you faced these magics before?” Betty asked with a forced calm.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tara answered. “I’ve done the kind of magic needed on a working farm in a valley full of magic.”
“I see,” Betty nodded. “But harvest blood and calming the passing souls are not true black magic. They are the night to the day, not the darkness of the soul.”
“I was part of bringing Buffy back from Heaven,” Tara said with a frown at the memory. “It was wrong but I did it. That’s where this all started.”
“Impressive,” Betty said. “Unfortunately in a most unpleasant way.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tara agreed.
“Tara, I realize you’re only being polite,” Betty said gently. “But my mother is ma’am.”
“So you can do this?” Buffy asked with more worry in voice than she knew.
“I can do this,” Tara said. “I have to.”
===========================================================
“What’s the commotion?” Lilah asked as the wizards scrambled around her.
“The book!” Danny said in a voice just a bit too high for calm. “It’s had a weird power surge.”
“Did Maclay use it?” the lawyer demanded.
“No,” an older mage said worriedly. “But she did command it later.”
“What does this mean?” Lilah asked the assembled magical staff. “Anybody?”
The looks back and forth coupled with hidden shrugs were all the answer she received.
“Not good enough, people!” Lilah snarled. “My ass is on line here and I want answers even if I have to light a fire under all of you and believe me I know where the dolls are buried!”
“It’s not that simple,” a mage said hesitantly.
“I’ll make it easy,” said in a tone flat with anger. “Can you get the new seer?”
“Yes, but that’s provided we have the power,” the magic user replied.
“Power,” Lilah nodded. “I’ll get you some more. How about the book and Maclay?”
“The book will be the hard part,” a more senior mage explained. “Maclay is just a Wiccan hedge witch. The book will not want to part from her since it seems to be bonded. Our strategy is simple and fool-proof.”
“How fool-proof?” Lilah demanded.
“We burn out the witch,” he shrugged. “The little Wiccan will be torn apart by the dark magic we’ll pour into The True Path Of Magic and then we’ll pull the power and the book back. It should only take a few seconds. Once we have the book there are spells that will bind the seer to...Wolfram and Hart forever.”
“Why won’t she just drop it?” Lilah asked with a frown.
“It will be bound to her,” the mage explained. “So will we while we’re trying to take it from here but that will hardly be an issue. A college dabbler in witchcraft will do little beyond make a brief torch.”
“Are we ready in case she uses it right now?” Lilah asked pointedly.
“We have a team standing by but we know when she’s going to use it,” he shrugged.
“Oh?”
“Tonight there will be a half moon,” the mage said smugly. “Good for controlling evil. I’m sure she’s out buying an impressive amount of herbs and crystals right now.”
“And that’s not going to work, right?”
“My dear Ms. Morgan,” the oldest mage wheezed in a delighted manner. “Every time one of our clients signs our forms or uses our services in any way we tie them gently to our power base. It’s just a matter of using the right shade of invisible ink for each species. Then there’s the many favors owed to us by powers one would think our enemies, but who still need help in a world of human laws. It all adds up to a considerable amount of power. And since the benefits greatly outweigh any reasonable cost in this case we have carte blanche to tap that pool.”
“As long as you document how much you use,” Lilah said sharply.
“We have the forms already filled out!” he cackled.
“Why don’t you use some of that power to find the seer now?” Lilah asked suspiciously.
“The Senior Partners are, ah, shall we say waiting for us to prove our theory,” he said with a bit of embarrassment.
“Before they give you the pass to the power piggy-bank,” Lilah finished. She turned, pulled out a PDA and looked through the files. The lawyer made a note and faced the mages with a smile.
“You will be the last part of Mr. Peterson’s probationary period,” she said briskly. “I’m sure he’ll never make the same mistake again.”
“Most assuredly not,” the Black Griffon Society sorceress said with a predatory smile. “If I may, just how did he get on probation in the first place?”
“He tried to cut a deal for himself,” Lilah replied pleasantly. “We try to discourage that.”
===========================================================
“Ladies and gentlemen,” D’Hoffryn intoned. “I have the result of the Orb Committee’s findings. They confirm what we all know.” He looked out at his senior council and smiled. “We’re a growth industry. What we started is now being carried out by forty-seven full Vengeance Demons and twenty-three probationary Vengeance Demons. Unfortunately we have a limited resource. The Orb of Petbe has indeed lost seventeen percent of it’s power just in the last three hundred years. Teleporting efficiency is at an all time low. In short, we’re facing a power crisis. My question is do we proceed with our current course of action?”
The senior council nodded sagely.
“Of course,” one harrumphed with a frown. “Despite what some of the younger generation thinks, we do know what we’re doing.”
The other council members just nodded sympathetically.
“By the way, where is that youngster, the one who keeps worrying?” D’Hoffryn asked as an afterthought.
===========================================================
“You sure about this?” the human asked. “Vengeance Demon’s a good gig.”
“I’ve topped out in my field,” the young demon replied. “And I’m expecting a downturn in my section.”
“Well, with your qualifications and certifications we’ll have no trouble placing you,” the man in the rumpled suit replied. “Mind you, being an actuary won’t be as exciting as your old job.”
“Do any of your clients travel in a burning cloud?” the demon asked.
“No,” the human replied sympathetically. “For the most part they use cars.”
“I’ll adjust.”
===========================================================
“How long will this take?” Buffy asked.
“Hours,” Betty said softly.
Buffy looked out the window at Tara standing in the backyard with bare feet. The witch held her eyes closed under the sun. Her hands were open and she had been lifting them by a tiny fraction every few minutes. Next to Tara a small brazier burned low while on it’s surface the ashes of a handful of herbs became white ash.
“Shouldn’t there be more chanting or smoke or something?” Buffy asked worriedly.
“No,” Betty said quietly. “I can see her aura in the white part of my flame. She’s an earth witch all right. I’ve never seen such a sturdy connection.”
“She’s all right?” Buffy wondered.
“As much as she can be,” Betty said in a tone that did not make the Slayer relax very much.
===========================================================
Dr. Watson spread Lucinda’s most recent drawings on her desk. She looked over them and began to notice a pattern.
“Good thing I took art courses for my humanities requirements,” she muttered.
She shuffled the papers a bit until they formed a five paged diorama in crayon.
All the way on one side by themselves a sad man with oversized teeth reached out for two people, a woman with glittery silver crayon eyes and an angry boy that were beyond his reach...
===========================================================
Angel felt every decade as he hurried along the sewer, trying to hear again the one heart that he had known for such a short time. Connor didn’t know how dangerous this world was with its firearms and freeways. Or how to act around cops. Cops made the vampire think about lawyers and the thought of his son in the hands of Wolfram and Hart chilled him.
There was so much he had to do for the child he did not really know.
Why try? part of his mind chided him. Did you ever think you could be a father? Or a lover?
Now he was again with Buffy, feeling hope and joy truly for the first time. Then Buffy became Cordelia and Angel stopped in his tracks. Angel shook his head and began to run again, hoping that listening to the world above would drown out his traitorous inner voice.
===========================================================
The next page was a little girl looking tiny in a big bed with huge IV pumps and boxes all around her. Near the bed two adults cried.
===========================================================
Lucinda clutched Ollie her panda bear as the three channel pump at the side of her bed chimed. On her finger the pulse oximeter glowed red as it checked the oxygen in her bloodstream. Wires on her chest led to a tiny box on the bed. She had had an odd reaction to the first chemo dose and since then she had been monitored on EKG telemetry. Nearby the crash cart loomed just in case. The heart rate numbers on the oximeter increased as Lucinda felt the first harsh wave of nausea.
“Last time, honey,” her mother said with urgency of a prayer as her daughter’s hand clenched hers.
“You’re doing great,” her father said in a tight voice as he fought back the tears his baby girl didn’t need to see.
===========================================================
On the edge of the other side of the connected drawings the red haired girl in the red octagon cried blue tears all alone.
===========================================================
Willow turned away from the view into Rack’s inner sanctum, sat on the red floor and wrapped her hands around her legs. She felt completely helpless.
Maybe Tara should just let me go, she thought as tears began to well up in her eyes. She could do better...
===========================================================
On the border of that sheet and spilling onto the next was the form of a sad black and white cat.
===========================================================
She sniffed around the territory for safe, familiar scents. She felt unsettled and not even rolling lazily in the sunlit patch of rug could make her feel better. She could scent one mother, but the other’s was fading again. She had been feeling so safe with both of them back together, but now the scent of that one brief return was fading back almost to where it was too faint even for her nose to catch. Miss Kitty went to the door.
“Mmeowrr?”
There was no reply. She turned and began her circuit again.
===========================================================
On this page a man carrying an outsized bottle in one hand was reaching out to an angry, crying woman who turned away.
===========================================================
Anya looked up at the bell as the door of the Magic Box opened. Her smile died almost immediately as Xander stepped into the store.
“What hurtful things have you come to say today?” she asked bluntly. “Go ahead. You’re safe. I’m human again, and abandoned. I should be getting used to it.”
“Are you okay?” Xander asked as Anya unconsciously rubbed her shoulder.
“I’m fine,” she said shortly. “I love being hit with magic lightening and almost drowning.”
“Lightening?” Xander asked with a worried frown. “Drowning? You should be in the hospital!”
“Thank you for your concern,” Anya replied acidly. “By the way, Buffy and Tara aren’t here, which is why you came in the first place.”
“Yeah, but-” Xander started.
“But you missed me so much you had to come the day after Willow was shot to check up on me?” Anya almost hissed.
“Kind of,” Xander admitted after a second. “Losing Willow made me...”
Silence grew in the shop as they stared at each other trying to find the elusive thread of conversation. Finally Anya really looked at Xander.
“Your face is puffy,” she said sternly. “Have you been drinking? Your face always gets puffy when you drink.”
“I’ve...I’ve got to go,” Xander said hurriedly as he turned.
“Damn it, Xander!” Anya snapped as he fled the store. The bell rang again. She shook her head and sighed. “Men! Can’t live with them and now I can’t yank their out their livers and feed them to hyenas!”
===========================================================
Georgia stopped and stared at the drawing, the next one in from the man with large teeth, now on her desk. She could make out a man with a mean smile
===========================================================
Warren Meers strode along the sidewalk with a smile on his face and his hand on the pistol in his pocket. He couldn’t believe his luck. Warren hadn’t known the weird girl from the magic shop was a witch as well. He had hoped to run into Summers’ other little witch friend sooner rather than later. At least his stray round had killed the powerful one of the Slayer’s pair. Warren smiled at the memory of viewing the live feed from the robot as the girl, Anna or something like that, took a bolt of green electric fire to her chest. He hitched the pack now on his shoulders up a bit and smiled. The magic surprises in this backpack were even more devastating the weird, scarred sorcerer had promised. As for the Slayer he now knew she could be stopped with bullets. Next time he’d stay and finish the job.
===========================================================
She didn’t recognize the new figure. It appeared to be a man with glasses.
===========================================================
Giles looked at his watch and yawned. He felt one more time for his passport and tried to remember his Watcher’s training about crossing borders via magic. Giles glanced at the phone but turned his attention away after a second. He picked up Garwood’s Guide For Portal Travelers and forced himself to concentrate on anything other than the thoughts that Willow Rosenberg was dead and what he might find in Sunnydale.
===========================================================
On the other side the salamander hovered between the brown and the yellow haired girls. All of them had worried faces...
===========================================================
Dawn pulled out the last of her school things from her backpack in a rush, but it was too no avail.
“My compact, my brush, and-hey!” Buffy said as she almost pounced. “I wondered where that scarf went!”
“You never wear it!” Dawn groused.
“That’s because I can’t find it because my little sister keeps pillaging my closet!”
“Siblings,” Betty sighed. “Excuse me, but can we call a truce for a few hours?”
“Sorry,” Buffy said in a not very sorry voice.
“Fine,” sulked Dawn.
“Girls, please!” Betty snapped in an exasperated tone.
Buffy sighed and shivered as she looked down.
“Dawn, I’m sorry,” she started in a very subdued voice. “I’m just...tired.”
“I know,” Dawn admitted shyly. “The only way I could make it through class was staying busy and trying not to think about-”
“We’ll get her back,” Buffy promised with a fierce urgency as she hugged her little sister.
“Okay,” Dawn said in what she hoped was a steady voice. “But why do we need these sweats and the long skirt? Won’t Willow be warm if a salamander is making her body?”
“It’s very complicated,” Betty explained. “But no. Her body temperature will be at human normal, but she will lose it quickly. The best analogy would be tempering a blade by quenching it in a snow bank and then leaving the new blade in the melted snow.”
“And she may be confused or exhausted after the transformation,” Buffy added. “I’d bet salamanders don’t make clothes.”
“Sorry, we salamanders have no real experience in weaving clothes made of anything but fire,” Betty answered politely.
“People wear fire?” Dawn asked incredulously.
“They try to by using fire protection spells,” Betty explained. “Sounds good and the weaves are spectacular but salamander fires tend to go through most spells rather suddenly. Not to mention you never get any offers to dance.”
“A big no on the flamey clothes,” Buffy said with a nod. “That’s why we’ll need things we can more or less get Will into fast.”
“And a blanket,” Dawn said turning and pulling hers off her bed.
===========================================================
But it was the central drawing that made the doctor pause. The blue eyed woman now had darker hair and her feet were below the line of brown the others stood on.
===========================================================
Tara opened her eyes and looked at the odd trio waiting for her on the back porch in the fading light of the afternoon. She felt their hope and worry for her. Tara accepted those emotions and let them wrap around her like favorite sweater on a chilly morning.
“Are you okay?” Buffy asked. “I mean, you know, standing around with no sunscreen for hours, arms in weird positions...”
“You make it sound like tai chi in a tanning booth,” Dawn interjected.
“I’m fine,” Tara said with a smile. “It’s been a long time since I centered myself to the earth.”
“Amazing,” Betty said over Dawn’s shoulder. “I believe your hair is more brown now.”
“Like dirt-I mean soil, err...” Buffy started.
“Mother Earth,” Dawn added smugly.
“I am not wearing Birkenstocks and socks!” Tara said in mock horror. Then she laughed. “Oh, sorry. Centering brings out silliness in me.”
“Well, as long as its good,” Buffy said in a relieved tone. “When do we start?”
Before Tara could answer Buffy the phone rang in the house. Tara gave a start and then rushed towards the door. The others looked at her as Tara hurried by and picked up the phone just before the answering machine kicked in.
“Hello, Sheila,” Tara said gently. She nodded and bit her lip as the others gathered around. They could all hear the worry in the tinny voice even if the words were indistinguishable from their positions. Finally Tara brushed an errant tear away.
“She’ll be home late tonight,” Tara said surely. “I promise.”
===========================================================
Dr. Watson unrolled the next set of drawings and just stared at them for a second. Her recorder sat nearby but her only words for many minutes were “Oh my.”
To Be Continued
See, this is what procrastination gets you.
This just keeps getting better and better!!!!!!
