House of Cards
by Forrister
Email address: forrister@hotmail.com
Feedback: Please – I really appreciate some constructive feedback. (Not necessarily positive feedback, but definitely constructive.)
Distribution: Please don’t distribute or archive my story without asking me.
Rating: PG –13
Disclaimer: I know Joss owns them all. I know I don’t. (A little knowledge can be so damn frustrating.)
Note: Post “The Gift”. Sequel to “Little Miss Nobody.” (Set about eight weeks after ‘The Gift’)
Katharyn seems to think this is about ready to get posted so I’ll put on my trusty trench helmet and give it a shot. I’d like to acknowledge all the folk who gave me feedback for my previous efforts. Your kind words have encouraged me to continue. (So you only have yourselves to blame!)
I’d also like to put in a small note of support for those brave souls in the non-spoiler thread who have stoically resisted all sorts of temptations by unscrupulous kitties to take a walk on the wild side. I hope this helps to provide a brief distraction from the trials of spoilerdom.
Chapter 1
Anya watched the woman with all the intensity of a hawk checking out its next meal. She’d been browsing in the book section for the past half hour and the suspense was nearly killing the ex-demon salesgirl.
“Buy something! Buy something!” Anya muttered under her breath.
The woman looked up and held her gaze for a moment before returning to her browsing.
“Wow!” thought Anya. “Maybe I’ve hit on some sort of sales mantra!”
“Buy something! Buy something!” chanted Anya softly.
The woman seemed to pause for a minute and then brought a small pile of books to the counter.
“I’ll be taking these but I’d like to look a little longer, if that’s not a problem?” she said in a musical Scottish accent.
Anya was delighted. There were at least two hundred dollars worth of books here. She mentally tallied that up against the rest of the day’s takings and was very pleased by the comparison. Then she realised that the woman was waiting for a reply.
“Oh, sure! Take all the time you like! We don’t close for hours!” Anya positively babbled in her glee.
The woman smiled and returned to the shelves.
Half an hour later Tara and Willow walked in. They’d been in the library going over possible course options for the new academic year. Tara decided she was taking Comparative Religion and Celtic Literature. They were both taking Medieval European Literature and Willow was determined to take Advanced Latin, despite never having studied the language formally before. She was convinced that five years of translating Latin texts and spells would make up for anything she missed. The two were still discussing course choices when they arrived at the Magic Box.
“He wasn’t”
“He was. The man was a complete tyrant!” maintained Tara steadfastly.
“He was one of history’s greatest generals!”
Tara stopped and gave her a firm look. “If he was so great then why did he lose everything and die in exile?”
“That’s only because everyone was against him.” Protested Willow.
“And that doesn’t tell you anything?” retorted Tara.
“Shhh!” cautioned Anya. “You’ll disturb the paying customers.”
Willow looked puzzled. “I thought the shop was supposed to close half an hour ago?”
“Shhh!!!” repeated Anya. “That was before we got a customer with a big budget.” She pointed to the woman who was busily examining the various jars of esoteric ingredients.
“Who are you two arguing about anyway?” asked Anya.
“We were just having a difference of opinion about Napoleon.” Said Tara.
“I’m thinking about taking European History.” Willow added.
“He was a pain.” Recalled Anya. “A real little tin god.”
“You actually met him?” asked Willow in awe.
“Yeah, I was doing this little job for Josephine on one of her lovers when I met him. Short, slightly pudgy, with receding hair.” Commented Anya.
“And?” prompted Willow.
“And nothing.” Stated Anya. “I wasn’t there for vengeance on him. I didn’t like him much but hey, business is business.” which reminded her that the customer was her business. She began chanting again. “Buy something! Buy something!”
Tara and Willow simply shook their heads and went to sit at the table. Tara sat and watched the woman for a while. There was something about her that she just couldn’t pin down. Not a bad something, she finally decided, but an unusual something. The woman didn’t seem to be particularly young but didn’t give the impression of age either. Her red hair was pinned away from her face and fell down her back to her waist. There were touches of white at her temples but this gave her a look of dignity rather than age.
As if the woman could sense Tara’s probing gaze, she looked up. Tara winced and shielded her eyes from the flare of bright light that surrounded the woman for a split second.
Willow took her hand. “Tara? Tara baby, are you alright?”
Tara shook her hear to clear her vision. Willow stood up and moved to her side but Tara was looking only at the strange woman.
“I-I-I’m f-fine.” Stuttered Tara, making it perfectly clear to Willow that she was nothing of the sort.
“We’ve had a lot to deal with lately. I think we should head home for an early night.” Willow’s voice was full of concern.
Tara laid a hand on her arm to reassure her. “No, I’ll be fine, really I will. It’s nothing.” Willow gave her a sharp look and sat down next to her, prepared to wait until Tara was ready to talk about it.
The woman brought a small pile of powders, herbs and oils down to the gleeful Anya who immediately began to tally them up.
“Is it possible to have them delivered to where I’m staying?” asked the woman.
“Sure!” chirped Anya, who would have been prepared to hand deliver to Siberia at that point. She handed the woman a card and waited while she filled it out.
Giles walked in and saw the customer at the counter. He checked his watch and frowned. He was about to go over to see what was going on when he caught a glimpse of the glee on Anya’s face. He shrugged his shoulders and decided to get on with straightening his shelves. Customers browsed and then returned the books to a completely different place on the shelf, upsetting the carefully arranged order of things. He tried not to take it as a personal affront but it was quite irritating.
The woman thanked Anya and with a brief glance at the two women sitting at the table, she left the Magic Box.
Anya did her own version of a little snoopy dance as she put the money in the till.
“Anya. Aren’t we supposed to close at 5pm sharp?” Giles put another book back on the shelf.
“I’m not closing when there is a paying customer still shopping.”
“But it’s now quarter to six. If we keep this up there might be complaints about our irregular hours to the Chamber of Commerce.”
Anya went a little pale. “Does that mean I’ll have to give the money back?”
“Money?” Asked Giles. “What money?”
“That customer just spent $673.50.”
“Oh.” Giles did a some mental calculations and decided that his cash flow could stand a few complaints to the Chamber of Commerce.
“Besides, you might get a nice tip when you deliver her books this evening.” Added Anya.
Giles did a double take. “Since when do we deliver?”
“Well… I couldn’t turn down such a good customer and I do want her to come back and spend more money.” Anya turned to Willow. “That’s how you build up a business and create a firm customer base. Isn’t it?”
Willow rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry I ever gave you that copy of ‘How to Succeed in Business.’ for Christmas.”
“Why?” asked Anya. “It’s a very good book, even though it neglects to mention sex once.”
Giles raised his eyebrows. “And what, may I ask - and I swear I’ll regret this - , does er.. sex, have to do with business?”
“I keep hearing that ‘sex sells’ but no one will explain just how that works with a shop like this one. We have no room for any girls out back and …”
“ANYA!” Giles cut her off. Willow began to chuckle quietly to herself.
“What did I say now?” whined Anya.
“Back to the point, young lady.” Giles valiantly managed not to smile. “Who’s going to make this delivery?”
“Don’t look at me!” said Anya. “I’m strictly sales staff.”
“W-we’ll do it.”
Everyone turned to look at Tara.
“Are you sure?” asked Willow, worried at the tone in her lover’s voice.
“Yes.” Tara sounded determined. “Where do we go?”
“Room 14, Sunnydale Inn, between 8 and 9pm.” Read Anya from a card. “Her name is Si.. Si –o… something Buchanan.”
“Let me” said Giles as he took the card. “Oh, Shavorn.”
“How does S-i-o-b-h-a-n come out as ‘Shavorn’?” asked Anya.
“It’s an old Gaelic name. Usually Scottish or Irish.” He noted.
“Yeah, I have heard it before once or twice in the last thousand years or so.” Said Anya, sarcastically. “I’ve just never seen it written before. Now that you mention it though, she did have a Scottish accent.”
“Well, that explains it, doesn’t it.” Giles put the card carefully in his small but slowly expanding card file. “Now that that’s settled. Anya, please pack these things up in a box with one of our shop flyers and I’ll close up.”
Anya looked like she was about to protest.
“If you want to hire a box boy we can always take his wages out of your salary.” Added Giles firmly.
Anya waited until he turned back to his shelving to poke out her tongue at him.
Willow was following this little byplay with amusement. Anya could be so… well, just Anya. She turned to Tara and noticed how pale she still looked. “Are you sure we want to do this? I’m sure that Xander would drop this stuff off after work if we asked him nicely.”
“Hey!” protested Anya. “I had plans for tonight!”
Willow grinned. “I know exactly what sort of plans you had in mind. The sort of plans you have every night.”
“Why change a good plan?” replied Anya, totally unconcerned that her sex life was again a topic of public discussion.
“Giles, we had a postcard from Dawn today.” Said Willow, changing the subject.
“I haven’t heard a thing from Buffy since they left two weeks ago.” Replied Giles as he joined them at the table.
“Here then, read this.” Willow handed Giles a postcard with a picture of a waterfall and an old-fashioned steam engine chugging past.”
It read,
Willow, Tara, Spike and the gang.
We’re having a great time! We’ve spent the last couple of days touring around the Atherton Tablelands and we travelled back to Cairns on this train. Isn’t it neat? Tomorrow we’re going snorkelling on the Great Barrier Reef. Buffy says that she may just stay here forever, but I think we should be back on time. There’s this guy named Simmo and I think he likes her cause he keeps showing up in our tour groups and hanging out with us. I’ve got to go because they’re collecting the post soon and I want you to get this before we get back.
love, Dawn.
PS: Simmo’s got a younger brother named Craig and he’s cute. – D
Giles smiled. “I’m glad they’re having a good time. They needed a bit of a holiday. I wish Buffy had written though.”
“You know Buffy, she’ll wait to write until she has something to write about, and then she’ll decide that she might as well wait and tell you herself.” commented Willow.
“Yes, she never was much of a correspondent.” Agreed Giles as he went to tidy the bargain bin.
Willow began to gather up her laptop and books.
“For a second she had such a p-powerful aura about her.” Said Tara unexpectedly. “So bright and clear. Then it was gone.”
“Who? Siobhan Buchanan? She looked mostly harmless to me.” Willow looked keenly at Tara’s worried expression and pale face. “This isn’t that spidey-sense of yours is it? I mean, she’s not dangerous, is she? You know, like hellgoddess coming to destroy everything , type dangerous?”
“I… I’m not sure. I think she could be, if she wanted. B-but she didn’t seem evil, more sad.” Tara was having trouble describing what she’d seen. She wasn’t even sure if she’d actually seen what she thought she’d seen, but she was sure it was worth looking into.
Willow just held her for a minute, thinking all the while. Tara sometimes had an uncanny knack of seeing people and just knowing about them. Willow began to worry about how they could deal with another unknown threat, if that’s what it turned out to be.
Willow gently kissed her forehead. “We’ve got a couple of hours. We should get some spells ready just in case and then we’ll go. Together.”
Tara nodded.
**********
Well for what it’s worth that’s the beginning. Other parts have been written and I’m still in the process of finishing it. I’ll be posting every few days when I can. Thanks, Katharyn for all the advice and help. The Beginnings Cycle is still my favourite.
b]House of Cards[/b]
by Forrister
Email address: forrister@hotmail.com
Feedback: Please – I really appreciate some constructive feedback. (Not necessarily positive feedback, but definitely constructive.)
Distribution: Please don’t distribute or archive my story without asking me.
Rating: PG –13
Disclaimer: I know Joss owns them all. I know I don’t. (A little knowledge can be so damn frustrating.)
Note: Post “The Gift”. Sequel to “Little Miss Nobody.” (Set about eight weeks after ‘The Gift’)
If you’re reading this you are both semi-literate and just about to read chapter 2. Big trouble, big angst. (This is Sunnydale, you expect bunnies and picnics?) I’m only going to say that things are rarely what they appear to be and this chapter is no exception.
Thanks to Katharyn and the little gods of punctuation for their assistance, encouragement and advice.
Chapter 2
Willow and Tara walked down the corridor of the Sunnydale Inn. It was only a small two-storey hotel but it was a definite improvement on the sleazy motels that seemed to abound in the town. The wallpaper was slightly faded but cheery and the place was kept clean. Room 14 was the corner suite at the far end of the corridor and they approached it with curiosity and a slight touch of fear. They stopped before the door and stood until Tara realised that it was up to her to knock as Willow was encumbered with the box. She knocked twice, firmly, and waited.
The door opened a crack and then all the way.
“Miss Buchanan? We’re from the Magic Box.” Began Tara nervously.
“We have your parcel.” Added Willow.
“Come on in” replied Siobhan. She waited for them to enter and then closed the door. “You can put that over there.” she gestured towards the bed.
As Willow put the box on the bed, Tara looked around. She noticed the feeling of security she got from the room, like it was a safe haven from the evils of the world. It smelled of rosemary and cinnamon. She saw the small painted card that hung on the doorknob and noticed similar cards hanging over each window. There was a small art box sitting on the table and painting materials lying around it. Several more painted cards were spread on the table, still glistening wet with paint and ink. Siobhan herself was dressed casually in a russet coloured, short sleeved dress that looked as if it was made from some sort of homespun linen. Tara looked up as the woman spoke again.
“Can I be offering you something? Tea perhaps?”
Willow waited to see what her love would do and Tara realised that it was down to her. “That would be nice.” She finally replied.
“I don’t bite you know.” Said Siobhan. “So, what am I to call you? I didn’t quite catch your names at the store.”
“I’m Willow and this is Tara.” Willow came over to lay a hand on Tara’s shoulder. She could feel the tension in her love and wanted to be there to protect her if necessary.
“And now you have to call me Siobhan.” She poured three cups of tea. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Milk, but no sugar for me, and Willow likes hers with both.” Replied Tara, feeling bolder.
“I’ll just clear the table so we can talk.” Siobhan began to carefully move the wet cards onto the bedside table and put the pots of paint and ink away. Tara took a quick look at the cards and was surprised to recognise them as some of the major arcana from a tarot deck.
“You paint your own cards?” The words tumbled out of Tara before she had time to think on how intrusive this must sound.
Siobhan smiled. “Yes. It helps me to work with cards I’ve made myself. It provides a closer link between me and the magick. But you should know that from your own workings.”
Tara and Willow just looked surprised, neither of them knowing how to reply.
“Don’t look like stunned rabbits, sit down and drink your tea before it gets cold.”
They sat down in silence and began to sip tea. Finally Willow had to ask. “How did you know? I mean it’s not like we have it tattooed on our foreheads or anything.”
“No, its not that obvious unless you have the sight to see. Your auras sparkle with magic. Tara, I’m sure you can see it if you try.”
Tara blushed. “Sometimes, Willow is surrounded by a million bright little lights, especially when we’ve been doing spells together.”
“You never told me that before. “ Protested Willow.
“It sounds silly just saying it like that. Particularly when you never seemed to see it yourself.” Replied Tara.
“That’s because Tara has a touch of the sight. She can see auras and energies.” commented Siobhan. “Actually I’m surprised that you don’t have problems with seeing too much sometimes.”
“I do, sometimes.“ Admitted Tara. “But I can usually block it off if I concentrate on something else.”
“If you work on it and practice you should be able to use it at will.” Stated Siobhan. “Try concentrating on me for a minute. Now look at me and beyond me. Don’t force it, just let it come.”
Tara’s eyes widened in wonder at the colours she could see. “A rich blue, tinged with purple and gold flecks sparkling everywhere.”
“I see you’re more practised at this than I thought.” Siobhan was impressed. “I realise now I should never have performed that little stunt in the shop.”
Willow looked puzzled but Tara’s eyes widened.
“Sorry, the aura flare was deliberate.” she had the grace to look embarrassed. “I did it to see if I could attract your attention. It must have half blinded you. I’m truly sorry, I had no idea that your sight was anything more than basic.”
“It was a bit like being caught in headlights.” Admitted Tara with a pained expression. “You gave me the wiggins.”
Siobhan tilted her head to one side and looked confused for a moment. Then understanding dawned on her. “I’m sorry I gave you the willies. I wasn’t my intention.”
“Why did you want our attention in the first place?” demanded Willow, still on the defensive.
“Well, I’d heard about the Slayer and her friends and I knew that her Watcher had a magic shop here.” replied Siobhan.
“How?” asked Tara. Willow decided that there was definitely something odd about how much this woman seemed to know about them.
“My brother was a Watcher. He confided in me a great deal.”
Willow jumped on the point. “You said was. So he’s an ex-Watcher? We haven’t had a particularly good history with the Watchers in the past.”
Siobhan’s face clouded. “He was killed earlier this year.”
“I’m sorry.” Apologised Willow sincerely. Her last doubts about this woman were melted away in pity.
“He’s part of the reason I’m here. I’m hunting down the thing that killed him and I traced its movements through Canada and then to Sunnydale.”
“So what is it we’re talking about here. Demon? Vampire?” asked Willow casually.
“Neither. It’s a Lich.” Stated Siobhan solemnly.
“A Lich?” asked Tara.
“An undead evil magician.” Willow remembered the term from some of her reading.
“That’s right. Have you come across them before?” asked Siobhan.
“Not directly, but Giles has a lot of stuff in his library and one or two books mentioned them.” Willow was justifiably proud of her research efforts.
“Well, this Lich was once human.” Began Siobhan. “She learned dark magick and used it to become effectively immortal. Now she’s come here for some infernal ritual of her own.”
Willow carefully avoided making eye contact. She’d had her own contact with dark magick and tasted the power and it still tempted her even though Tara was adamantly opposed to it.
“Is there something we can do to help?” offered Tara quietly.
“I’m still trying to prepare spells before seeking her out. I really just wanted to give you some warning before things started happening so that you could avoid trouble. Besides, there may be some associated mayhem that needs to be dealt with.”
“So you plan to tackle her on your own.” Tara’s look and manner were serious.
Siobhan nodded. “This is my fight. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt or killed.”
“We’ve faced death and worse before.” Said Tara grimly. “We can help if you’ll let us.”
“Hey! Evil on the Hellmouth is our stock in trade. Just point us in the right direction and stand back!” joked Willow, more flippantly than she intended.
“This is a serious business.” Siobhan reminded her sharply. “This Lich is a mage and can use powerful magicks. She can also control some of the local demons who may act as her minions. She’s taken life and wouldn’t hesitate to take more. This won’t be a Sunday stroll in the park.”
“Great. Another ‘Big Bad’.” Sighed Willow. “Why is it, that we never get the little vampires and the ‘bit naughty but not downright evil’ demons? “
“Is there anything you need right now?” asked Tara. “Tools? Spell ingredients? That sort of thing?”
Siobhan shook her head. “Thank you kindly, but I picked up everything I needed when I went shopping today.”
Tara wished there was something more they could do right now. The woman seemed so alone. Tara was thankful she had Willow to share their burdens and their joys. She couldn’t imagine doing what Siobhan was proposing without her love at her side.
Willow stood up to leave. “We’d better get back and let Giles know about this.”
“You should take care on the journey. I’d drive you but I haven’t got around to hiring a car yet. Just be careful out there.” Warned Siobhan.
“We will.” Promised Tara.
Siobhan walked them to the door. As an afterthought she rummaged in a small wooden box and pulled out two cards, each depicting the King of Swords. “Here, take these. They’re imbued with minor spells of warding and should protect you from magicks directed at you while you carry them.”
“How long for?” asked Willow, examining the detail and workmanship that went into the cards.
“About half a minute if the magicks are big, a fair while if just small magicks are involved. But only so long as you carry them about your persons.” explained Siobhan as she handed them their coats.
“Thank you.” Said Tara, slipping the card into a pocket. Willow nodded her agreement.
“Good night. Take care!” Siobhan watched as they walked off down the corridor. She couldn’t help thinking how young and naive they were, and how much in love. Sometimes it seemed that she could barely remember being that young. She slowly closed the door.
**********
There was no warning.
Just a brief movement that Willow caught from the corner of her eye. Then she was flying face first into the pavement. She hit hard but managed to break her fall a bit with her hands. She could hear Tara scream and she rolled over to get up when she saw the dark figure hunched over her love. It was whispering something in Tara’s ear and she was completely frozen.
“Tara!” screamed Willow as she made a brief gesture and loosed a spell.
The figure was pushed backwards, pulling Tara over as it flew through the air to land somewhere in the back of the alley. Willow crawled over to where her love lay and saw the thin trickle of blood at her neck. Red anger fuelled her magick and she caused a piece of a discarded packing crate to rise, preparing to fling it into the chest of the evil thing that had hurt her love.
Tara lifted her head and saw the darkness in her lover’s eyes. “Will! No!”
Willow hesitated and then stopped when she realised that the figure in the shadows wasn’t moving. The power in her swirled through the alley like a whirlwind, flinging paper and dust through the air, then dissipating as she crashed to her knees, drained.
Tara got up to cradle Willow in her arms. Red hair fell over her love’s eyes and as she brushed the hair away with a gentle finger she could see the darkness in those eyes slowly drain away to be replaced by a familiar green. Willow just sat there, resting in Tara’s arms.. Her hands torn and bleeding, she was too drained and shocked to move. There was blood in the whites of her eyes and her nose had begun to bleed slowly. Tara held her close while looking for a handkerchief to stem the flow. Then came quiet crunch of footsteps behind them which made her turn her head. She quickly thought of a spell, preparing to defend them if necessary, but was reassured by the sight of a police officer with a torch coming towards them.
“Are you two alright, Miss?” she asked politely. A second policeman moved up behind her.
Tara nodded.
“What about your friend here?” she looked at Willow’s scraped hands and bleeding knees.
“I - I think she’s in s-shock.”
The officer got on her radio and called for an ambulance.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“W-w-we were attacked. He’s over t-t-there.” She nodded her head towards the figure lying motionless in the shadows.
The officer shined her torch in the direction Tara had indicated. It showed a dirty figure, half lying, half sitting against the alley wall. The other officer went over and then saw by the light of his torch, the end of a pipe sticking out of his chest and a small pool of blood on the ground. The officer checked the man, then stood up and shook his head. The two police spoke in whispers for a moment and then the female officer came back.
She looked at them carefully for a moment and then decided to give it to them straight. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this but the man over there is dead.”
Tara was startled and shocked but Willow didn’t react.
“I have to read you your rights now, before I can ask any more questions.” The officer read their rights from a little card and asked if they understood them. Tara gave a whispered “y-yes”, but again Willow said nothing.
“Tell me again what happened?” She pulled out a notebook and looked expectantly at the two.
Willow was still staring blankly ahead, seemingly oblivious to the goings on around her. Tara took a deep breath to steady herself.
“We were w-walking down this way when someone jumped out of the s-shadows and pushed Willow over. He g-grabbed me and put something sharp to my throat. I think I screamed. Then Willow got up and er… p-pushed him, hard. He fell back that way and I fell over. Then Willow collapsed and you came.”
“So you came from that direction?” She pointed to the far end of the alley. “and you were heading that way?”
Tara nodded.
“He came at you from the right?”
Again Tara nodded.
“And he had a knife?”
“I d-didn’t see it, but I c-could feel it, here.” She indicated the spot on her neck where a few drops of blood still trickled slowly down.
“And your name is?”
“Tara Maclay.”
“And your friend?”
“Willow Rosenberg.”
The paramedics arrived along with a car load of police. They checked over the two women and helped get Willow, who by now was in deep shock, into the ambulance. The police officer Tara had spoken to rode with them and they travelled to the hospital in silence.
The police and detectives who descended on the alley set up lights and photographed every aspect of the scene, but failed to take any notice of the torn and dirty card with a picture of a king bearing a sword.
**********
to be continued.