TITLE THE HIGHGATE TUNNELS
AUTHOR Vivienne
RATING PG-13 ....for the moment!
DISCLAIMER All BTVS characters and certain other aspects of this story belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, ME and associates.
SPOILERS Diverges from canon somewhere early in season six.
THANKS To Wayland (Clare) for her unstinting beta-ing.
FEEDBACK Feel free
The Highgate Tunnels
Chapter 26
Giles, Charley and Spike emerged cautiously from the third, and apparently deepest, cavern. Ahead of them, a level passage carved out of the bare rock stretched into the distance. Unlit by phosphorescence, they could not see its end. Spike led the way, surefooted, while the others stumbled now and then on the uneven floor. Risking neither torch nor cigarette, their sense of nearing the end of the trail grew stronger with every step. As did the smell of sulphur.
Giles, preoccupied with his own thoughts, failed to notice the other two come to a halt in front of him. He slammed into the back of Charley, catching her in a Giles – Spike sandwich. In the darkness he felt rather than saw Charley’s annoyance and Spike’s amused pleasure.
‘Sorry,’ he whispered as Charley extricated herself.
‘Shh,’ said Spike.
They had come to a dogleg. Around the bend the passage split into two, narrower tunnels. One sloped up, the other down. A red glow came from the ends of both, but stronger from the way that led down. At least now there was enough light to see one another. Giles pointed first one way and then the other, looking quizzically at Charley and Spike. Spike nodded downwards. Giles looked doubtful. Spike looked impatient and jerked his head down. Giles shook his head. They both looked at Charley who rolled her eyes and pointed
up. ‘So why bother asking people?’ Spike muttered under his breath as they started climbing.
Now that there was some light, even if only of a flickering, dull red, it was easier to move softly. The tunnel was fairly steep, rising over,Giles calculated, the caverns they had recently passed through. Near the top, Giles stopped and waved the others down. They lay flat on the bare rock and carefully elbowed their way forward onto a wide, irregular ledge that marked the end of the passage.
The light came from below, and it was enough to show that the ledge ran all the way round the upper half of the largest cave they had seen so far. There were two more tunnels at intervals around the ledge, but both were dark. The smell of sulphur was at its strongest now, although not strong enough to be truly eye-watering, which was just as well, since Charley was having a hard enough time suppressing her sneezes.
Giles made sure that his glasses were firmly on his head before inching forward to peer over the edge of the stone shelf. He froze for a moment and then pulled back sharply. He looked at Spike with both surprise and a question on his face. Charley opened her mouth to speak, but Giles quickly shushed her with a finger, only too aware of how well any sound would carry in this hollow space. He shuffled back into the tunnel, beckoning the others to follow him.
‘It – it’s a
hell-mouth!’ he whispered to Spike, ‘You knew, didn’t you?’
‘And you didn’t, did you?’ said Spike, ‘I’m disappointed in you, Giles. I thought you knew everything.’
Giles glared at him, ‘You might have said
something.’
‘I might,’ Spike said, ‘Still, I can see why you overlooked it. It’s a very small hell-mouth. More of a mini-mouth.’
‘That really doesn’t help,’ said Giles.
‘What the hell is a hell-mouth?’ said Charley.
‘Ah,’ said Giles.
Spike arranged his mouth into a patronising smile. ‘Somewhere a bunch of vampires can call home, the odd demon can visit and the occasional Big Bad can pop up to play with the humans. Although this one isn’t really up to Big Bads.’
Charley glared at Spike. She was getting good at it.
Giles sighed. ‘Essentially it’s a doorway, a portal. A place where the barrier between this world and the Underworld is extremely fragile, and in some cases, non-existent.’
‘Oh God,’ said Charley.
‘Those too, sometimes,’ said Spike with a grin.
Noises coming from the cave ended the conversation there. They dropped to their hands and knees and crept back to the ledge. This time all three looked down into the cave.
From their vantage point some half-way up the cave wall, they could see figures appearing from several passages, some carrying burning torches that they placed in sconces arranged around the cavern. Giles’s instinct to take the upper passage had been a good one, they saw, for the exit below them on their right was from the lower tunnel. They would have been trapped.
The floor of the cavern was extremely uneven. The only smooth surfaces seemed to be a number of well-worn paths criss-crossing the cave in all directions. Even these were interrupted here and there by sulphur-encrusted vents from which issued wisps of yellow gas. The source of the unnatural heat throughout the cavern complex was also apparent. A dozen small, irregularly shaped pools of lava glowed and seethed ominously. Most of these were concentrated towards the centre. In the very middle of the cave stood a huge stone dais around which the figures, vampires all, were forming themselves into a loose circle.
All fell still and quiet as they settled into their places. They seemed to be waiting for something. Charley dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. Giles chewed his lip thoughtfully. Spike really, really wanted a cigarette. They didn’t have long to wait.
Muffled sounds of footsteps and voices came from one of the tunnels. The noises grew louder and more distinct as they drew closer to the entrance. One voice rose angrily above the rest, undercut by another’s gruff bark. Jones and Shorty stumbled out. Both looked dishevelled, hands tied behind their backs. Behind them came several more torch-bearing vampires led by a tall, mean-looking one dressed in black. Spike hissed softly. Giles and Charley looked at him. Spike was glowering, his face threatening to change. Giles nudged him.
‘Know him?’ he whispered.
‘Cutter,’ said Spike, ‘Albert Cutter. He’s run Highgate for two hundred years.’
‘I see,’ said Giles, ‘Clearly a survivor.’
Jones’s angry voice drew their attention back to the cave. His head was turned back towards Cutter, his words lost in echoes bouncing off the walls. Cutter made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat, closed the short distance between them and pushed Jones roughly to the floor. Jones lay still. From the ledge, there was no way of knowing if Jones was hurt or merely winded. They saw Shorty run over and crouch down by Jones, then Cutter moved forward, grabbed both men by the collar and, one in each hand, started walking down one of the worn paths that led to the centre dais.
Another light gleamed from the same tunnel. Quietly this time, two people stepped out of it. First, a neat and shiny Pippa, her face cat-like and smug. Behind her was Tara, and behind her a handful more vampires. Tara paused at the tunnel mouth and looked around the cave. She looked calm and self-possessed. So much so that for a moment it seemed as though she, not Pippa, nor Albert Cutter, was the one in control. Giles looked at her for a long moment. He breathed deeply and moved close to Spike’s ear.
‘We have to get down there,’ he whispered.
***
Willow was alone in the dark. It was not a good feeling, especially not good when lying, paralysed, on a cold hard floor. She tried not to think about what might be happening to the others. Jones and Shorty had been carted off unceremoniously, slung like sacks of potatoes over the shoulders of a couple of vampires. Giles, Spike and Charley, where were they now? Had they been captured, too? Or were they still roaming the endless maze of tunnels below London’s streets, searching for her and the Vincas? And Tara? Tears sprang to Willow’s eyes.
Tara was here, somewhere, Willow could feel her presence stronger than ever. Where was here, anyway? She guessed the room whose floor she graced was still part of the Highgate Tunnels, although it smelled earthier than the parts she’d walked with the others. There was another, vaguely unpleasant, odour, but so faint she couldn’t identify it. The air was surprisingly warm, too. She choked back a misery-laden sob as her thoughts turned again to Tara. Willow could picture her so clearly in the darkness. Tara’s blonde hair fell gently over her forehead, her blue eyes seemed to look directly at her own, as if she were trying to tell Willow something. A little smile played about her mouth, but there was an air of sadness about her. Willow’s tears flowed so hard, her nose began to run. She sniffed. Automatically, she put her hand to her face to wipe away the tears. It was a moment or two before she realised her hand was obeying.
Astonished, she tried moving her legs. They moved. Desperate to get out of there and find Tara, she jumped to her feet. Instantly, her legs seized up with cramp and she fell over. After a lot of massaging (and cursing) she was able to roll onto her back. Many painful stretches later Willow tried sitting up. It worked okay, but it made her feel dizzy for a while, as did the next thing she tried – standing. Every part of her body felt stiff and sore, particularly her left side – the side that had been in intimate contact with a hard floor for what felt like ages. Willow forced herself, with difficulty, to spend more time stretching and rubbing her muscles.
When she felt reasonably normal, she padded silently across to the door and listened. Nothing. Willow opened the door. It revealed, of course, a tunnel. Rock-walled rather than brick-lined, it sloped downwards fairly steeply to a bend. An orange-red glow lit the tunnel, growing stronger towards the curve. So did the unpleasant smell, which Willow now recognised as sulphur.
Willow’s bag was nowhere in sight. All she had now was herself.
I have one chance, she thought.
One chance.____________________
TITLE THE HIGHGATE TUNNELS
AUTHOR Vivienne
RATING PG-13 ....for the moment!
DISCLAIMER All BTVS characters and certain other aspects of this story belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, ME and associates.
SPOILERS Diverges from canon somewhere early in season six.
THANKS To Wayland (Clare) for her unstinting beta-ing.
FEEDBACK Feel free
The Highgate Tunnels
Chapter 27
Using a mix of hand signals and nods, Giles, Charley and Spike agreed to try reaching the floor of the hell-mouth through one of the other tunnels that came out on to the ledge. They crawled to the one closest to them, doing their best not to dislodge the fallen debris of grit and pebbles littering their way. Once inside, they stood up, brushing the dust off their clothes and looking around in the gloom. The passage sloped down in a sharp curve, which was a relief to them all, since that made it more likely that they could use it to find their way to the cavern. Cautiously, in single file with Spike in the lead, they descended in darkness.
‘What are we going to do?’ whispered Charley, who was behind Giles.
‘Ah – no idea,’ he said, ‘I expect we’ll think of something.’
‘That’s what I like,’ said Spike, over his shoulder, ‘a man with a plan.’
‘Let’s get where we’re going first, shall we?’ said Giles, ignoring Spike’s sarcasm, ‘then we might get a clearer picture of what’s going to happen.’
‘But we know what’s going to
happen,’ said Charley, ‘we have to figure out a way of stopping them from making that bridge.’
‘Shh!’ Spike hissed softly.
They had come to a fork in the tunnel. One branch led up and away, the other continued down, ending in the flickering glow cast by the hell-mouth. By its light, they saw that there was no-one in their way. On they went.
‘And where’s Willow?’ Charley’s voice was increasingly anxious.
‘Right now, I really don’t know,’ said Giles, ‘The thing that’s bothering me is Tara.’
‘Tara?’ said Charley.
‘She isn’t tied up and she doesn’t look drugged,’ offered Spike.
‘No,’ said Giles, ‘In fact, she looks as if she knows exactly what she’s doing,’ said Giles.
‘But, that’s good - isn’t it?’ said Charley.
‘I’m not sure that it is,’ said Giles, as they drew close to the glow.
They stopped just outside its radiance and surveyed the scene. The ghoulishly-lit vampire circle had drawn in towards the centre, forming a tight ring around the stone dais where Tara stood alone. Her posture was perfectly straight. She looked relaxed and composed, her eyes, luminous in the glow from the torches and the lava pools, were focused coolly into the middle distance.
Pippa and Albert Cutter were conferring in low tones nearby. A little way back, Jones and Shorty sat facing the dais. They were leaning against a rock, hands tied behind their backs. Two vampires stood guard over them.
There was movement to their right as a vampire carrying a wooden box came out of the entrance the rest of them had used earlier. He brought it over to Pippa and put it down in front of her. She gave a cursory nod, picked it up and set it on the stone next to Tara. Tara smiled and, bending gracefully, stroked the lid of the box gently with one hand. She straightened, resuming her position. Charley inhaled sharply and Spike gave an involuntary start. Giles raised his eyebrows. For now it seemed that Tara shone with her own light. A soft, silvery-blue shimmer, faint but definite, enveloped her. Her hair lifted an inch or two off her shoulders, floating as if caught in a tiny updraught.
They weren’t the only ones to notice. Cutter and Pippa were looking at Tara. Their expressions were . . .nasty.
‘Time your little red-headed friend joined us, I think,’ said Pippa, ‘just in case you were planning on having any ideas
of your own.’Tara smiled sadly, but said nothing.
Cutter, standing with his arms folded across his chest, growled something in a harsh tone, and three vampires broke the circle to head back up the tunnel.
‘They’re going to get Willow,’ Charley said.
‘So I gathered,’ said Giles without a trace of sarcasm.
‘They’ll be surprised,’ said Spike.
The others looked at him. He nodded towards a tunnel mouth on the other side of the cavern. There, back in the shadows, but silhouetted in the dim light, was the unmistakable outline of Willow.
‘Good girl,’ said Giles.
‘Now what?’ said Charley.
‘Wait,’ said Giles.
The shimmer around Tara was getting stronger. Now it pooled around her feet and began to spread out over the surface of the dais. This was not lost on either Pippa or Cutter, who were talking again. Their tension was evident – and growing, judging by their faces and body language. Pippa stopped and pushed back her sleeve to look at her watch. She said something brief to Cutter, and they both looked at Tara. Giles looked at his watch.
‘Five minutes,’ he said.
‘Five minutes to what?’ said Charley.
‘Midnight,’ he said.
From within the aura, Tara noted the activity in the cavern. The silver-blue haze didn’t obscure her view. Rather, it sharpened outlines and intensified detail. She realised she could hear every word that was spoken, and even keep pace with the super-fast communication that passed between some of the older vampires. Tara knew that Spike, Giles and Charley were concealed in the shadows of the entrance opposite her. She could almost hear their thoughts. The knowledge that Willow was similarly hidden somewhere behind her triggered an immeasurable rush of sadness. It surged through her like a great wave searching for the shore. Tara observed it dispassionately until it rolled away, leaving only calm detachment in its wake.
How can I be like this? she wondered. She had been afraid, it was true. When Sana had told her what must be done, Tara had felt both fear and grief in equal measures, but that had rapidly changed into an acceptance of the inevitable that had in turn evolved into a feeling of timelessness, and of peace.
This is my role, she thought,
this is what I was born to do. Tara, for the first time, knew what it was like to be truly, absolutely centred.
She was the Lady of Tartaria, the last of a long line that reached back over continents and through millennia - right back to the woman who was beginning to take shape in front of her on the dais. Sana, who had been the first Lady, was still too faint to be visible to anyone but Tara, no more than a veil within a shimmer, but she was there.
She will wait until the last moment, Tara thought.
The Vinca were wrong. Not even I am strong enough to do this on my own. She was aware of Jones and Shorty, sitting on the rock floor, hands tied. Tara knew their gaze was fixed on her. She felt their fear, their loyalty and their love. She saw Pippa look at her watch.
Yes, it’s close now, very close. As she watched, waiting for Sana to materialise, she was suddenly grateful that she would not be doing this alone.
***
Willow thought her heart would burst with relief when she saw Tara. The awful tension of the last two days begged to be released in a flying leap to Tara’s side and a great cloud of vampire ash, but Willow would take no more unplanned risks. She had found her way down here more by her sense of Tara than by the increase in light and heat. And, as she flattened herself around corners and crept down the bare rock passages, she had found a confidence and a focus far stronger than she had ever known. By the time she reached sight of Tara there was no panic or fear left in her, just the certain knowledge that she would do whatever it took, and that whatever she did would be right.
Willow studied the scene. Lava pools and rocks. Vampires circled about the raised flat stone Tara stood upon. Pippa and an older vampire off to one side. Jones and Shorty tied and guarded. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a brief flash of reflected light deep in the shadows of the tunnel opposite her. More vampires? No, vampires don’t wear glasses –
Giles! Safe – for the moment - in her own patch of darkness, Willow smiled. She turned her attention to Tara. Even though Willow could not see her face, Tara’s incredible calm was tangible.
It’s like she’s in charge, thought Willow. The ethereal glow around her was also puzzling, as was the wooden box next to her feet.
Pippa was talking to the vampire next to her, and then Willow saw her look at her watch. Automatically, Willow checked hers.
Well, I guess that means we have five minutes, she thought. Three vampires came running into the cavern. One spoke to Pippa who scowled and snapped something at him. The older vampire – Willow figured he must be their leader – bared his teeth in an ugly snarl. His arm shot out in a swift blur. A moment later the other vampire was ash on the floor. The remaining two made themselves scarce.
So now they know I’ve escaped, she thought. Willow checked her watch again. Three minutes.
But they don’t have time to look for me. Something was happening on the dais. The silvery-blue glow was deepening, swirling. Tara’s hair lifted right off her shoulders, forming a halo around her head. Beautiful, thought Willow distantly, wish I could see her face. She rose on the balls of her feet, her hands were as still as the rest of her body, her breath came long and slow. Perfectly poised, Willow was ready. She waited as the last minute to midnight ticked by.
The glow around Tara intensified. Where it had been spreading out over the rim of the dais, now it contracted, solidified, and took on the form of a tall, dark-haired woman Willow had never seen before. Suddenly, she understood the meaning of the box.
Milady Tartaria, she thought,
her – her bones
are in that box. The blue haze was still there, but now it was centred on the two women. Tara reached out her hands. As the other woman took them, the aura began to vibrate.
I can almost hear their thoughts – Sana, her name is Sana, Willow struggled to hear more, but she could make no sense of the rapid exchange of thoughts and images that were passing between Tara and Sana. She withdrew, left with a deep feeling of foreboding that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
No time for that, no time, she thought, scanning around the cavern as much as she was able from her hiding place.
Jones and Shorty were gazing, awestruck, at the dais. Their eyes were wet with tears. The lava pools were bubbling actively; steam and sulphur gas rose up into the vaulted roof to hang there in a wet, stinking cloud. The temperature was going up. Willow carefully slipped off her jacket, dropping it noiselessly to the floor. She flexed her fingers.
As the final seconds ticked away, Pippa looked at Cutter, her face shining. He had dropped his London-cool slouch and was standing straight-backed. Under his thickening brow his ancient face was an impassive mask. He opened his mouth, revealing lengthened canines. A low, eerie chant broke from his lips, which was taken up by all the vampires, who began to sway in time with its awful rhythm.
Pippa leaped nimbly up on to the dais. She took the larger of the Tartaria tablets, the one that Willow had guarded so carefully, from a pocket and hung it about Tara’s neck.
All for nothing, thought Willow savagely. From another pocket she brought the other and slowly fitted it on top of the first. There was an audible click as it settled into place. Then she took one of Tara’s hands in hers, and one of Sana’s in the other. As she did so, Tara looked around, first towards the tunnel where Charley, Spike and Giles were concealed, and then at Willow.
For those last, all-too-brief seconds, it was as though she were being given a lifetime of love all at once. Tara’s blue eyes shone, piercing into Willow, driving out everything save the naked essence of their love.
Oh Tara, she thought, her knees buckling.
Oh Tara, Tara. As Tara turned away to take Pippa’s hand, the feeling of foreboding welled up, a hundred times stronger than before. Willow was horrified beyond measure. Because now she knew why. She knew what Tara was going to do.
***
Hidden in the tunnel opposite Willow, the others stared at the three women on the dais, transfixed by the unfolding scene. The look Tara gave them almost broke Giles’s heart. He wondered, fearfully, what it meant, what she was telling them with such overwhelming sadness. The chanting was steadily getting louder, the vampires swayed along with the horrible sound and the cave grew hotter. Giles felt a tug at his elbow.
‘Who’s the woman?’ whispered Charley, indicating the dark-haired stranger who had appeared beside Tara and Pippa.
Giles pointed at the wooden box. ‘The resurrected form of the very first Lady of Tartaria. You remember how her bones were stolen from the museum in Cluj? Now we know why.’ His face was grim in the little light that reached into the tunnel mouth.
‘So what happens now?’ she said.
‘Now they build the damned bridge and let the old Bads cross over,’ growled Spike.
Giles and Charley looked at him. Spike’s lips were drawn back over long canines, his brow was ridged and his eyes reddened.
‘It’s the ruddy chanting,’ he shrugged apologetically, ‘I always hated modern jazz.’
‘We have to stop them,’ said Charley, ignoring Spike.
‘Got a plan, love?’ snarled Spike, ‘Because if you have, you’d best share it. If those old whores get through, you’re claret.’
‘She locked them out the last time,’ Charley pointed at the First Lady.
‘Yes, and it bloody killed her,’ said Spike, unimpressed.
‘Well, at least she can’t die if she does it again,’ retorted Charley.
‘No, but – but . . . .’ In the light from the swaying torches and the bubbling lava pools, they saw that Giles’s face had gone deathly white. Like Willow, and now Charley, he had realised the reason behind Tara’s strange composure, and her apparent sorrow.
‘Oh my God!’ The penny having dropped with resounding clarity, Charley turned from Giles to Spike, and back again.
‘Tara, Pippa.’ She put both hands to her face.
‘Look,
look,’ Spike said urgently.
The sigul around Tara’s neck had snapped into life. For a moment it looked like a star shining at her throat, then waving lines of energy in silver-blue shot from its centre, enveloping each of the three women in a moving triple-helix of radiance. Tara and the dark-haired one closed their eyes and bowed their heads. Pippa tossed her hair and laughed ecstatically. The chanting rose to fever-pitch, reverberating around the walls in sickening discord. Lava spouted up, splashing over the edges of the pools. The heat was overpowering.
Tendrils of light from the helices entwining the three flowed into the centre of the dais. They came together in a sphere that immediately changed shape into a rapidly-lengthening vertical cylinder that was soon taller than the women, and continued stretching up towards the noxious cloud clinging to the underside of the cavern roof.
‘I have to do something,’ muttered Charley, and ran out into the cave before anyone could stop her.
***