Bad Trip, Chapter 10
Apr. 10th, 2004 01:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thedeadlyhookXander's plight, Willow's power... this chapter's got it all.
FYI: This installment is a![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
toysdream special. (I merely helped to brainstorm.)
Previous parts here
ACT TEN: RING OF FIRE
The elevator doors dinged open, and the girls spilled out into the hotel lobby. Xander's naked, battered body, sliding across the tiled floor behind them, left a red smear to mark their trail. With a minimum of chatter, the four Slayers strode purposefully through the reception area, headed for the side door that led out to the swimming pool.
At the front desk, a lone clerk goggled at this procession, then ducked behind the counter, where he began fumbling at the keypad of his telephone. Neena and Lo exchanged glances, then Neena nodded, and Lo sprung across the lobby and landed gracefully atop the counter.
"Naughty, naughty," Lo said, casually driving a fist down into the desk phone. The plastic cracked, spitting shards across the countertop. "You weren't calling the cops, were you?"
The clerk, sprawled on the floor, stared at her wordlessly. Somehow he couldn't tear his eyes away from Lo's face--her vacant smile, her monstrously dilated pupils. He blinked, then shook his head vigorously, lank blond hair whipping across his forehead.
Lo grinned. "There's a good boy." Still crouching atop the desk, she reached down, grabbed the lapel of the clerk's jacket, and yanked him abruptly to his feet. "We'll only be a minute. Be a sport and give us some time alone with our special friend, okay?" Lo leaned forward, planting her lips on the clerk's forehead with a dry smack, then gave him a hard shove. As the young man toppled backward into the key cabinet behind him, Lo stood and took a running leap off the counter, hitting the floor just behind the others as they began filing out into the fenced-off pool area. As they emerged, a handful of poolside sunbathers scattered, dashing back into the hotel through a side exit.
Neena held the door open as Bet and Graciela lugged Xander through. "So," Bet asked, "Where do you want him?"
"Blood to the earth," Graciela reminded her. "It's gotta go into the soil."
"There's a grassy spot over there by the picnic table," Lo observed, following them through the door. Neena let it swing closed, then overtook the others with a few brisk strides and set off in the direction of the picnic area.
Xander's head lolled to the side as they passed the swimming pool. Hey, if I make a run for it now, I could make it to the pool. Float face-down for a while, like in American Beauty. Or was that Sunset Boulevard? He was dimly aware of a scraping sensation against his heels and buttocks, as Bet dragged him across the gravelly concrete, but the pain seemed far away now. Is this shock? he wondered. Thank you, shock. You're a pal.
Now they were on the grass. Bet let his arm flop onto the ground with a thud, then backed away onto the concrete apron of the swimming pool and joined hands with Graciela. "Blood of the enemy," the two girls chanted. "Blood to the earth." They began to dance, turning in a circle, spinning faster and faster, giggling with excitement. "Death gives to life. Life will give death." Faster and faster. "Blood of the enemy! Blood to the earth!"
As Bet and Graciela whirled and sang, Neena and Lo stood beside Xander's bloody body, curved knives at the ready. Lo's eyes flicked down to Xander's ashen face, up to Neena, back down to Xander. "Now?" Neena began to nod, then started suddenly, dark eyes widening in surprise.
A spiral of crackling energy was rushing towards them, sweeping down from the sky like a tiny tornado. The whirling spiral passed over the top of the fence and touched down on the concrete surface of the patio, then dissipated in a puff of purple smoke. Startled by its sudden arrival, Bet and Graciela stumbled, tripped, and spun helplessly into the swimming pool.
Even through his mental haze, Xander's eye could dimly make out the two figures which now stood on the far side of the pool. Hey, Will. His lips moved, but no words came out. Glad you could make it. Some party, huh?
Lo and Neena paused for a moment, knives poised, mouths agape. Then, in perfect synch, their knives came slashing down.
...........
The world spun around Kennedy, then lurched sickeningly to a halt. Suddenly they were somewhere else, the looming cliff face replaced by a gray slab that she took a moment to recognize as the facade of their hotel.
Kennedy blinked, trying to refocus her eyes and get her bearings. Then a rush of nausea hit her, her knees buckling as if they'd been physically kicked out from under her, and she slumped onto the concrete. She glimpsed Willow standing next to her, evidently unaffected by their disorienting journey, and could almost feel the waves of energy radiating from her slender body.
Willow's arm snapped up, fingers splayed. "Be still!" she shouted, and the air in front of her rippled like a heat mirage. Kennedy struggled to make out what was happening on the other side of the pool, and saw two girls--Neena and Lo, she thought--standing on a grassy patch next to a picnic table, locked in what seemed like a dramatic action pose.
Squinting, Kennedy tried to make out what the pair were holding in their hands. Something shiny, something that glinted in the sunlight. Are those knives? She planted a hand on the concrete and levered herself up for a better view, fighting to suppress the sick feeling churning in her stomach. And why aren't they moving?
Willow was hovering now, floating over the surface of the pool towards the picnic spot. She paid no attention to Bet and Graciela as they emerged from the swimming pool, coughing water. Her gaze was focused on Xander's bloody form, which lay unmoving beneath the knives that her magic had frozen in mid-descent. Willow took in the slashes, the cuts and abrasions, the blood that flowed thick and fast from his wounds, and red fire flared in her eyes.
"Animals," she hissed, and sparks crackled at her fingertips. "Worthless little bitches." Willow's hands flew up, and bolts of energy leapt towards Lo and Neena, striking the paralyzed Slayers squarely in their chests and blasting them back against the fence. The curved daggers fell from their hands, and they howled and writhed as Willow lashed them with ribbon after ribbon of luminous energy.
"He's gone." Willow's face contorted with fury, and tears welled in her red eyes. "You took him from me. He was mine, and you took him away." She dropped her hands, cutting off the flow of energy, and Lo and Neena slid limply to the ground. "I have to think of something really special for you. And for your little friends," she added, looking around for Bet and Graciela.
"Will." She started at the voice, feeble as it was, and stared down at Xander's sprawled body. His lips moved again, and though no sound came out, she heard his thoughts as clearly as if he'd spoken them. Save them. They're my girls. My... My super...
"Xander!" Willow dropped to her knees, crouching over him. She brushed his bloody chest with the palm of her hand, extending her senses, probing into his battered body. Pulse, temperature, life, thought. Still there, but terribly weak. "Oh god, you're alive. Oh please, please, don't die. Don't die."
She heard a patter of footsteps behind her as Kennedy came racing around the edge of the pool. "Heads up, babe. You have company."
Willow glanced up, saw Neena and Lo pulling themselves to their feet, tensing for combat. Though they were out of her field of view, she could feel Bet and Graciela closing in behind her--the warm glow of their hatred, the chill cold of their knives.
She stood, hands flexing at her sides. Xander's thoughts came again, like the last flicker of a dying candle. Will... Save...
The understanding came upon her like a flood, rushing in from some recess of her mind. "It's okay, Xander. I know what I have to do." She touched the tips of her index fingers together, then swung her hands in an outward arc, drawing two halves of a circle about her as the Slayers came rushing in.
...........
As she rounded the corner of the pool, Kennedy knew she would be too late. Bet and Graciela were already moving into position behind Willow, daggers raised to deliver a killing blow. Neena and Lo were unarmed, but she knew a Slayer's strength was more than enough to tear a normal human apart. Unless Willow moves first, she thought. And if she does, she's going to kill them. She skidded to a halt, wondering if she could somehow dive in, shield Willow, disarm the two knife-wielding girls...
In an instant, the four Slayers became a blur of motion, lunging simultaneously at Willow. But even as they moved, Willow completed the drawing of her circle. "Repel," she said, and a shimmering curtain rippled out around her, knocking her assailants back. "Gather," she added, and with a flick of her wrist she swept the four girls into a cluster. She gestured, and they rose, struggling, into the air.
Willow stood for a moment, considering the writhing, hissing Slayers, who were now floating perhaps two or three feet above the concrete patio. "Willow?" Kennedy asked warily, coming up behind her. "What are you going to do with them?"
"Watch," Willow replied, her face a mask of concentration. "Watch and learn." A sudden flurry of wind whipped past them, and Willow's hair swirled about her head. She raised her right hand above her head, and began the incantation.
"I am the wind in the desert," Willow said, and crimson fire pulsed from her palm. She swung her hand down and to the right, leaving a trail of flame. The wind intensified.
"I am the thunder's peal." She moved her hand again, down and back to the center, and Kennedy realized Willow was marking the points of a compass, drawing in the air with the fire that flowed from her palm.
"I am the rain that washes clean..." Willow's hand rotated up and to the left, drawing the fourth point, and the four Slayers twitched and screamed in agony. Kennedy shuddered, but Willow was almost eerily calm.
Willow's hand swung upward, completing the circle of fire as she called out the final verse of the incantation.
"And mine is the hand that heals!"
There was a rush of wind, like a shockwave, as the ring of flame flew apart. The girls screamed, and Kennedy watched in horror as streams of swirling black mist came billowing out of their gaping mouths.
The miasma oozed upward into the air, the four tendrils knotting together into a single roiling cloud. As the last trails of pitch-black fog slid out of the Slayers' mouths, the writhing mass that was gathering over their heads began to take on a suggestion of form. Kennedy imagined that she saw something wrapping around itself, like the coils of a snake, or the dragons in the Chinese paintings her father collected.
"That's you, isn't it?" Willow mused. She was still calm, almost meditative. "The First and The Last. Devourer of Souls. The Big Bad." She glanced down at the girls, who now hung limply in the air. "I guess you're stronger now... Strong enough to enter more than one at a time."
The black mist coiled, twisted, and a face emerged--hideous, eyeless, a skeletal muzzle which seemed to consist of little besides row upon row of teeth. The jaws yawned wide, and a harsh voice echoed from within the maw. "WITCH!" it bellowed. "You'll suffer! You'll die!" The cloud swirled, and Kennedy thought she saw its gargoyle wings unfurling.
Willow stroked her chin with her thumb. "You know, that's really interesting. You're not as articulate in your natural state, are you?"
The apparition's jaws gnashed and, with an ear-shattering shriek, it lunged at Willow, expanding and evaporating as it came. The black mist dissipated as it passed her, and then the presence was gone.
Willow stood her ground until the last trace of dark fog vanished, then staggered and fell, collapsing into Kennedy's waiting arms. As she toppled, the force that had held the four Slayers suspended in mid-air abruptly cut off, and they dropped to the ground in a dazed heap.
"You okay, Red?" Kennedy asked, gently lowering Willow to the ground.
"It's cool," Willow murmured. "Look after Xander, okay? I gotta go take a look at something." She closed her eyes, concentrated, spoke a single word. "Pursue."
Willow felt her body fall away from her. She opened her eyes--or what passed for eyes in this state--and took in the tableau below her. Kennedy was crouched over Xander, spreading her jacket over his body, tearing the sleeves from her shirt to stanch the flow of blood from his wounds. Neena, Lo, Graciela, and Bet were gradually coming around, stunned and disoriented by their ordeal, and Willow pitied them for the horror of realization that awaited them.
Then she saw herself, lying deathly still on the concrete, and something about the sight drew her attention. I'll be damned, Willow thought. When did that happen?
Was it when they arrived back at the hotel, when she'd driven back Xander's attackers, when he'd begged her with his fading thoughts to spare the girls? Was that when the understanding suddenly came upon her--the memory, or instinctive knowledge, of what had to be done to drive the presence of The First from its servants' bodies? Was it when she drew the circle of fire in the air, as she somehow knew that others had done before her, thousands of years before the dawn of any civilization that was still remembered in this world?
Looking down at her abandoned body, Willow saw that, somewhere along the way, her hair had changed color again. It was now a brilliant, fiery red.
Okay, Kennedy, she thought. I guess you win that bet. Then she focused her will on her target, and was gone in a rush of wind and flame.
...........
Arcing across the sky, Willow's awareness raced after the fading presence of The First. Without eyes, she looked down at the landscape rushing by beneath her.
I guess this is astral projection, huh? What a trip. She directed her attention forward again, keeping her quarry in sight. I wonder if there's any limit to what I'm capable of?
The dark entity was falling now, plunging down to the earth's surface. As it fell, Willow could feel something far below begin stirring in response, and she knew that the thing she was pursuing was but a tiny part of the whole--a shadow, an echo, the tip of an iceberg as big as the world.
She plummeted, locked onto her target by the force of her will, and the ground rushed towards her with impossible speed. A sickly mixture of terror and exhilaration seized her. I wonder if this is how Kennedy felt when she jumped. Or Buffy, when she--
Suddenly, the movement stopped. There was no sense of slowing or deceleration; one moment Willow was hurtling at the speed of thought, and the next, she simply wasn't. It took her a moment to adjust to the change of perspective, and a few more seconds to understand what she was seeing.
Her pursuit was over. Lying beneath her, on a patch of grass--grass which Willow could see withering and dying as she watched--lay the sleeping body of Buffy Summers, eyelids flickering as if she were caught in the grasp of a vivid dream. Buffy moaned, flailed out with one arm, and began to wake.
Willow floated, a bodiless witness, as Buffy shook off her slumber and roused herself. Even before Buffy's eyes snapped open, Willow knew what she would see--bottomless pits of black, with the irises' color swallowed up by their distended, distorted pupils.
"I see you," Buffy said, and a sense of infinite vulnerability enveloped Willow like a dark shroud. She released the grasp of her will, and a gust of burning wind carried her back to her waiting body.
...........
As the four young Slayers shook off their stupor, Kennedy began barking orders. She knew that they'd soon begin to remember the things they'd done under the influence of The First, just as she had back in Montana. Better, she thought, that Neena and Lo and the others kept busy in the meantime.
Making sure to maintain the pressure on Xander's pulsing shoulder wound, she motioned with her free hand. "You two! Go inside and find some towels, bed sheets--anything we can use for bandages!"
Bet blanched, eyes helplessly drawn to the bloody figure that Kennedy was tending. "Kennedy... What...?"
"No time! Just go, go!" Kennedy shooed Bet and Neena away, then pointed at Lo, who was shakily pulling herself to her feet. "You! Get on the phone, call 911! Get us an ambulance, now!" Lo noddded woozily, and sprinted off in the direction of the lobby.
Now only Graciela was left. She stood for a few seconds, eyes growing wide with horrified awareness. "Madre de dios. It was us. We did this. We did this to Xander." Her face was turning ashen gray.
"The First did this. Now shut up and help me, goddammit!" Kennedy returned her hand to Xander's wrist, feeling again for his weak pulse. She looked back at Graciela, inclined her head in Willow's direction. "Check on Willow. Make sure she's breathing okay, but don't move her, you hear?"
Graciela swallowed, nodded, and knelt down beside the unconscious Willow. As she bent to listen for the sound of breathing, Willow suddenly coughed, convulsed, and opened her eyes, sending Graciela squealing backwards.
"Wow." Willow sat up slowly, still dizzy from her disembodied journey. "That was, uh, different." She looked over at Kennedy, took in her grim expression, and began scrabbling to her feet. "Xander! How is he? Is he okay?"
Kennedy chewed her lip anxiously. "I don't know, Willow. I don't think he's taken any hits to the vital organs, but he's lost a lot of blood, and I think they must have bashed his head pretty hard somewhere along the way." As Willow clambered across the grass, Kennedy leaned over and peered into Xander's staring eyes. "His pupils are different sizes. That's not a good sign, is it?"
Willow reached out and took Xander's right hand. It was cold to the touch.
"I think I can do something," she said. "At least help a little. But... But I'm pretty much out of energy."
They heard a soft gulp, and looked up to see Graciela standing beside them, cheeks streaked with tears. "Please, Miss Willow. Take my strength... my spirit." She extended a trembling hand. "Use it to save him. I beg you."
Willow gave her a hard stare. "Graciela, right?" The girl nodded. "Okay. Sit down." She patted a spot on the grass, then clasped Graciela's hand with her own right one as the young Slayer settled onto the ground, keeping hold of Xander's hand with her left. Willow closed her eyes in concentration, letting her mind loose to explore the extent of her friend's injuries.
As Kennedy watched, Xander's wounds began to heal. The flesh of his shoulder and forearm, the skin of his cheek, the countless scrapes and abrasions... slowly but surely, the cuts were knitting themselves closed, the streaks of blood shrinking as they were absorbed back into the skin.
The look of concentration on Willow's face intensified. Now Kennedy could see the pulses of light as they flowed down Graciela's arm, across the fingers of Willow's right hand, then out through her left hand and into Xander's battered body. Kennedy looked back at Xander, saw the stirring beneath the skin of his face and chest as Willow worked beneath the surface to mend the broken ribs, soothe the swelling bruises.
Then suddenly Willow gasped, and her eyes snapped open, the pupils flaring with the rush of power. "No more," she said, and abruptly released Graciela's hand. The young Slayer slumped, drained into near unconsciousness, and Willow untangled her fingers from Xander's. "That's all I can do. Doctors are gonna have to take it from here."
Lo came running out of the hotel lobby, Neena and Bet at her heels, and all three carrying armfuls of sheets and towels. The sallow young desk clerk came scurrying along behind them with a first-aid kit.
"Ambulance is on its way," Lo called. "We told them there was a fire. And, uh, a car crash."
While Willow and Graciela watched from the sidelines, Kennedy marshaled the others to swaddle Xander in bedding, check his vital signs, monitor his breathing. A couple of minutes later an ambulance pulled up into the hotel parking lot, and Bet casually ripped out a swath of chain-link fence to give the paramedics access to the swimming pool.
"I'm gonna be honest with you girls," the older of the two paramedics said. He was burly, bearded, eyes rimmed red with sleeplessness. "We're really shorthanded here in town. Things have been getting kinda crazy over in Buffalo, and pretty much everybody's been called in to help deal with things there. But..."
"But?" Kennedy prompted. "But what?"
The paramedic sighed. "I think it would be better if we could get your friend to the main hospital in Buffalo. But the way things are going down over there, I think we'd need an army to get through."
Willow staggered forward, still reeling from her exertions, but the look she gave the paramedic was steely with determination. She raised a wobbly arm, and waved it to encompass the motley crew of frightened, queasy young women in their torn and blood-stained clothes. "You have an army. Let's go."
...........
The minivan rattled down the highway with Kennedy at the wheel, following as close as she dared behind the flashing lights of the ambulance. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder into the back of the van, where Willow was conferring with the four younger Slayers. "Hey, Red. You're sure we're, you know, safe for the time being?"
Willow paused for a moment in the middle of rummaging through her tote bag. "Yeah, I think so. The circle will protect you guys for a little while, at least. And anyway, I think The First has other things on its mind right now. Ah!" Willow had found what she'd been looking for. With a grin of triumph, she produced a permanent marker from the depths of the bag.
"Uh... Miss Rosenberg?" Bet raised a timid hand, like a student with an embarrassing question for the teacher. "What's that for?"
"I think I can arrange for something a little longer-lasting." Willow popped the cap off the marker and held it ready. "Okay, who wants to go first?"
The principle, as Willow explained it, was similar to that of the enemy's own ritual invocation. "That stuff it had you say--the eye, the tongue, the ear, the hand--that's meant to bind you to The First, make you its, uh, representative. For magical purposes, anyway. Like it's branding you." The girls winced, and Willow hastened to reassure them. "Good news is we can use our own invocation, bind you to something else instead, so The First can't get at you." She gave them an embarrassed smile. "Bind you to me. If, uh, that's okay with you."
Lo shrugged. "Beats the alternative." She gave Willow a quizzical look. "So, uh, these inscriptions. You said they can go anywhere on the body?"
"Yep, that's right." Willow waved her hand vaguely. "Sole of the foot, shoulder blade, calf of the leg, bellybutton--anyplace you're comfortable with 'em. I just need to write the four runes, each in a different place." She paused for a moment. "Kinda like the Harbingers, come to think of it. But not so much with the mutilation."
"The Harbingers?" Graciela gave her a quizzical look, making a tally on her fingers. "Two eyes, the tongue... That's only three runes." She considered a moment. "Oh. Okay, ewww."
Minutes later, Willow was finishing her work, reciting the incantation as she drew the corresponding runes on Bet's back. "I am the rain that washes clean... I am the hand that heals." She snapped the cap back onto her marker. "Okay, all done!"
"Pretty damn clever, Red," Kennedy said admiringly as Willow eased herself back into the front-row passenger seat. "So where'd you learn that trick?"
"Honestly? I'm not sure." Willow pondered briefly. "Last year, when I went on that whole magic rampage... I kinda absorbed a lot of stuff out of this big pile of Dark Arts books. Maybe it was floating around in my head all this time, waiting for something to knock it loose." But listening to herself, she wasn't entirely convinced.
"And me?" Kennedy's voice was tight with tension. "You think we're okay waiting to give me the human graffitti treatment?"
Willow reached over and gave her knee a reassuring squeeze. "Like I said, I think we're good for now. I'm pretty sure The First is gonna carpe the diem and blow through Niagara Falls while we're out of its way."
"So we lose this round, then," Kennedy grumbled.
"Nuh-uh," Willow smiled. "I think we've learned what we needed to know."
Kennedy raised an eyebrow. "And that would be?"
Willow leaned back in her seat, contemplative. "Two things. For starters... The First is in Buffy."
"Go on."
"And the other thing? I'm pretty sure... It leaves her when she sleeps."
They drove on for a minute in silence, considering this. Then they reached the outskirts of the city, and Kennedy had to devote her full attention to the road.
As the rapidly emptying highway wound its way into Buffalo, they began to see the same signs--the pillars of smoke, the guttering flames, the abandoned vehicles at the sides of the road--that they'd seen as they circled around other urban areas on their way across the country. Then they rounded a curve, and gasped involuntarily at the sight before them.
The great slab of an office tower reared up ahead of them like a glass tombstone. Symbols were inscribed on its surface, charred sigils twenty or thirty feet high, burned into the walls and windows. Though neither Willow nor Kennedy could read these runes, they understood immediately what they signified.
As they stared, they took in the smaller buildings clustered about the foot of the tower--block after block of burned-out shells surrounded by drifts of smoldering garbage, twisted fragments of wrecked cars, unidentifiable debris. People stirred in the ruins, ragged figures smeared with red and black, working their way through the rubble towards the spot up ahead where the highway narrowed between a tangle of overturned truck trailers.
"Now entering enemy territory, babe," Kennedy said. "Buckle up."
FYI: This installment is a
toysdream special. (I merely helped to brainstorm.)Previous parts here
ACT TEN: RING OF FIRE
The elevator doors dinged open, and the girls spilled out into the hotel lobby. Xander's naked, battered body, sliding across the tiled floor behind them, left a red smear to mark their trail. With a minimum of chatter, the four Slayers strode purposefully through the reception area, headed for the side door that led out to the swimming pool.
At the front desk, a lone clerk goggled at this procession, then ducked behind the counter, where he began fumbling at the keypad of his telephone. Neena and Lo exchanged glances, then Neena nodded, and Lo sprung across the lobby and landed gracefully atop the counter.
"Naughty, naughty," Lo said, casually driving a fist down into the desk phone. The plastic cracked, spitting shards across the countertop. "You weren't calling the cops, were you?"
The clerk, sprawled on the floor, stared at her wordlessly. Somehow he couldn't tear his eyes away from Lo's face--her vacant smile, her monstrously dilated pupils. He blinked, then shook his head vigorously, lank blond hair whipping across his forehead.
Lo grinned. "There's a good boy." Still crouching atop the desk, she reached down, grabbed the lapel of the clerk's jacket, and yanked him abruptly to his feet. "We'll only be a minute. Be a sport and give us some time alone with our special friend, okay?" Lo leaned forward, planting her lips on the clerk's forehead with a dry smack, then gave him a hard shove. As the young man toppled backward into the key cabinet behind him, Lo stood and took a running leap off the counter, hitting the floor just behind the others as they began filing out into the fenced-off pool area. As they emerged, a handful of poolside sunbathers scattered, dashing back into the hotel through a side exit.
Neena held the door open as Bet and Graciela lugged Xander through. "So," Bet asked, "Where do you want him?"
"Blood to the earth," Graciela reminded her. "It's gotta go into the soil."
"There's a grassy spot over there by the picnic table," Lo observed, following them through the door. Neena let it swing closed, then overtook the others with a few brisk strides and set off in the direction of the picnic area.
Xander's head lolled to the side as they passed the swimming pool. Hey, if I make a run for it now, I could make it to the pool. Float face-down for a while, like in American Beauty. Or was that Sunset Boulevard? He was dimly aware of a scraping sensation against his heels and buttocks, as Bet dragged him across the gravelly concrete, but the pain seemed far away now. Is this shock? he wondered. Thank you, shock. You're a pal.
Now they were on the grass. Bet let his arm flop onto the ground with a thud, then backed away onto the concrete apron of the swimming pool and joined hands with Graciela. "Blood of the enemy," the two girls chanted. "Blood to the earth." They began to dance, turning in a circle, spinning faster and faster, giggling with excitement. "Death gives to life. Life will give death." Faster and faster. "Blood of the enemy! Blood to the earth!"
As Bet and Graciela whirled and sang, Neena and Lo stood beside Xander's bloody body, curved knives at the ready. Lo's eyes flicked down to Xander's ashen face, up to Neena, back down to Xander. "Now?" Neena began to nod, then started suddenly, dark eyes widening in surprise.
A spiral of crackling energy was rushing towards them, sweeping down from the sky like a tiny tornado. The whirling spiral passed over the top of the fence and touched down on the concrete surface of the patio, then dissipated in a puff of purple smoke. Startled by its sudden arrival, Bet and Graciela stumbled, tripped, and spun helplessly into the swimming pool.
Even through his mental haze, Xander's eye could dimly make out the two figures which now stood on the far side of the pool. Hey, Will. His lips moved, but no words came out. Glad you could make it. Some party, huh?
Lo and Neena paused for a moment, knives poised, mouths agape. Then, in perfect synch, their knives came slashing down.
...........
The world spun around Kennedy, then lurched sickeningly to a halt. Suddenly they were somewhere else, the looming cliff face replaced by a gray slab that she took a moment to recognize as the facade of their hotel.
Kennedy blinked, trying to refocus her eyes and get her bearings. Then a rush of nausea hit her, her knees buckling as if they'd been physically kicked out from under her, and she slumped onto the concrete. She glimpsed Willow standing next to her, evidently unaffected by their disorienting journey, and could almost feel the waves of energy radiating from her slender body.
Willow's arm snapped up, fingers splayed. "Be still!" she shouted, and the air in front of her rippled like a heat mirage. Kennedy struggled to make out what was happening on the other side of the pool, and saw two girls--Neena and Lo, she thought--standing on a grassy patch next to a picnic table, locked in what seemed like a dramatic action pose.
Squinting, Kennedy tried to make out what the pair were holding in their hands. Something shiny, something that glinted in the sunlight. Are those knives? She planted a hand on the concrete and levered herself up for a better view, fighting to suppress the sick feeling churning in her stomach. And why aren't they moving?
Willow was hovering now, floating over the surface of the pool towards the picnic spot. She paid no attention to Bet and Graciela as they emerged from the swimming pool, coughing water. Her gaze was focused on Xander's bloody form, which lay unmoving beneath the knives that her magic had frozen in mid-descent. Willow took in the slashes, the cuts and abrasions, the blood that flowed thick and fast from his wounds, and red fire flared in her eyes.
"Animals," she hissed, and sparks crackled at her fingertips. "Worthless little bitches." Willow's hands flew up, and bolts of energy leapt towards Lo and Neena, striking the paralyzed Slayers squarely in their chests and blasting them back against the fence. The curved daggers fell from their hands, and they howled and writhed as Willow lashed them with ribbon after ribbon of luminous energy.
"He's gone." Willow's face contorted with fury, and tears welled in her red eyes. "You took him from me. He was mine, and you took him away." She dropped her hands, cutting off the flow of energy, and Lo and Neena slid limply to the ground. "I have to think of something really special for you. And for your little friends," she added, looking around for Bet and Graciela.
"Will." She started at the voice, feeble as it was, and stared down at Xander's sprawled body. His lips moved again, and though no sound came out, she heard his thoughts as clearly as if he'd spoken them. Save them. They're my girls. My... My super...
"Xander!" Willow dropped to her knees, crouching over him. She brushed his bloody chest with the palm of her hand, extending her senses, probing into his battered body. Pulse, temperature, life, thought. Still there, but terribly weak. "Oh god, you're alive. Oh please, please, don't die. Don't die."
She heard a patter of footsteps behind her as Kennedy came racing around the edge of the pool. "Heads up, babe. You have company."
Willow glanced up, saw Neena and Lo pulling themselves to their feet, tensing for combat. Though they were out of her field of view, she could feel Bet and Graciela closing in behind her--the warm glow of their hatred, the chill cold of their knives.
She stood, hands flexing at her sides. Xander's thoughts came again, like the last flicker of a dying candle. Will... Save...
The understanding came upon her like a flood, rushing in from some recess of her mind. "It's okay, Xander. I know what I have to do." She touched the tips of her index fingers together, then swung her hands in an outward arc, drawing two halves of a circle about her as the Slayers came rushing in.
...........
As she rounded the corner of the pool, Kennedy knew she would be too late. Bet and Graciela were already moving into position behind Willow, daggers raised to deliver a killing blow. Neena and Lo were unarmed, but she knew a Slayer's strength was more than enough to tear a normal human apart. Unless Willow moves first, she thought. And if she does, she's going to kill them. She skidded to a halt, wondering if she could somehow dive in, shield Willow, disarm the two knife-wielding girls...
In an instant, the four Slayers became a blur of motion, lunging simultaneously at Willow. But even as they moved, Willow completed the drawing of her circle. "Repel," she said, and a shimmering curtain rippled out around her, knocking her assailants back. "Gather," she added, and with a flick of her wrist she swept the four girls into a cluster. She gestured, and they rose, struggling, into the air.
Willow stood for a moment, considering the writhing, hissing Slayers, who were now floating perhaps two or three feet above the concrete patio. "Willow?" Kennedy asked warily, coming up behind her. "What are you going to do with them?"
"Watch," Willow replied, her face a mask of concentration. "Watch and learn." A sudden flurry of wind whipped past them, and Willow's hair swirled about her head. She raised her right hand above her head, and began the incantation.
"I am the wind in the desert," Willow said, and crimson fire pulsed from her palm. She swung her hand down and to the right, leaving a trail of flame. The wind intensified.
"I am the thunder's peal." She moved her hand again, down and back to the center, and Kennedy realized Willow was marking the points of a compass, drawing in the air with the fire that flowed from her palm.
"I am the rain that washes clean..." Willow's hand rotated up and to the left, drawing the fourth point, and the four Slayers twitched and screamed in agony. Kennedy shuddered, but Willow was almost eerily calm.
Willow's hand swung upward, completing the circle of fire as she called out the final verse of the incantation.
"And mine is the hand that heals!"
There was a rush of wind, like a shockwave, as the ring of flame flew apart. The girls screamed, and Kennedy watched in horror as streams of swirling black mist came billowing out of their gaping mouths.
The miasma oozed upward into the air, the four tendrils knotting together into a single roiling cloud. As the last trails of pitch-black fog slid out of the Slayers' mouths, the writhing mass that was gathering over their heads began to take on a suggestion of form. Kennedy imagined that she saw something wrapping around itself, like the coils of a snake, or the dragons in the Chinese paintings her father collected.
"That's you, isn't it?" Willow mused. She was still calm, almost meditative. "The First and The Last. Devourer of Souls. The Big Bad." She glanced down at the girls, who now hung limply in the air. "I guess you're stronger now... Strong enough to enter more than one at a time."
The black mist coiled, twisted, and a face emerged--hideous, eyeless, a skeletal muzzle which seemed to consist of little besides row upon row of teeth. The jaws yawned wide, and a harsh voice echoed from within the maw. "WITCH!" it bellowed. "You'll suffer! You'll die!" The cloud swirled, and Kennedy thought she saw its gargoyle wings unfurling.
Willow stroked her chin with her thumb. "You know, that's really interesting. You're not as articulate in your natural state, are you?"
The apparition's jaws gnashed and, with an ear-shattering shriek, it lunged at Willow, expanding and evaporating as it came. The black mist dissipated as it passed her, and then the presence was gone.
Willow stood her ground until the last trace of dark fog vanished, then staggered and fell, collapsing into Kennedy's waiting arms. As she toppled, the force that had held the four Slayers suspended in mid-air abruptly cut off, and they dropped to the ground in a dazed heap.
"You okay, Red?" Kennedy asked, gently lowering Willow to the ground.
"It's cool," Willow murmured. "Look after Xander, okay? I gotta go take a look at something." She closed her eyes, concentrated, spoke a single word. "Pursue."
Willow felt her body fall away from her. She opened her eyes--or what passed for eyes in this state--and took in the tableau below her. Kennedy was crouched over Xander, spreading her jacket over his body, tearing the sleeves from her shirt to stanch the flow of blood from his wounds. Neena, Lo, Graciela, and Bet were gradually coming around, stunned and disoriented by their ordeal, and Willow pitied them for the horror of realization that awaited them.
Then she saw herself, lying deathly still on the concrete, and something about the sight drew her attention. I'll be damned, Willow thought. When did that happen?
Was it when they arrived back at the hotel, when she'd driven back Xander's attackers, when he'd begged her with his fading thoughts to spare the girls? Was that when the understanding suddenly came upon her--the memory, or instinctive knowledge, of what had to be done to drive the presence of The First from its servants' bodies? Was it when she drew the circle of fire in the air, as she somehow knew that others had done before her, thousands of years before the dawn of any civilization that was still remembered in this world?
Looking down at her abandoned body, Willow saw that, somewhere along the way, her hair had changed color again. It was now a brilliant, fiery red.
Okay, Kennedy, she thought. I guess you win that bet. Then she focused her will on her target, and was gone in a rush of wind and flame.
...........
Arcing across the sky, Willow's awareness raced after the fading presence of The First. Without eyes, she looked down at the landscape rushing by beneath her.
I guess this is astral projection, huh? What a trip. She directed her attention forward again, keeping her quarry in sight. I wonder if there's any limit to what I'm capable of?
The dark entity was falling now, plunging down to the earth's surface. As it fell, Willow could feel something far below begin stirring in response, and she knew that the thing she was pursuing was but a tiny part of the whole--a shadow, an echo, the tip of an iceberg as big as the world.
She plummeted, locked onto her target by the force of her will, and the ground rushed towards her with impossible speed. A sickly mixture of terror and exhilaration seized her. I wonder if this is how Kennedy felt when she jumped. Or Buffy, when she--
Suddenly, the movement stopped. There was no sense of slowing or deceleration; one moment Willow was hurtling at the speed of thought, and the next, she simply wasn't. It took her a moment to adjust to the change of perspective, and a few more seconds to understand what she was seeing.
Her pursuit was over. Lying beneath her, on a patch of grass--grass which Willow could see withering and dying as she watched--lay the sleeping body of Buffy Summers, eyelids flickering as if she were caught in the grasp of a vivid dream. Buffy moaned, flailed out with one arm, and began to wake.
Willow floated, a bodiless witness, as Buffy shook off her slumber and roused herself. Even before Buffy's eyes snapped open, Willow knew what she would see--bottomless pits of black, with the irises' color swallowed up by their distended, distorted pupils.
"I see you," Buffy said, and a sense of infinite vulnerability enveloped Willow like a dark shroud. She released the grasp of her will, and a gust of burning wind carried her back to her waiting body.
...........
As the four young Slayers shook off their stupor, Kennedy began barking orders. She knew that they'd soon begin to remember the things they'd done under the influence of The First, just as she had back in Montana. Better, she thought, that Neena and Lo and the others kept busy in the meantime.
Making sure to maintain the pressure on Xander's pulsing shoulder wound, she motioned with her free hand. "You two! Go inside and find some towels, bed sheets--anything we can use for bandages!"
Bet blanched, eyes helplessly drawn to the bloody figure that Kennedy was tending. "Kennedy... What...?"
"No time! Just go, go!" Kennedy shooed Bet and Neena away, then pointed at Lo, who was shakily pulling herself to her feet. "You! Get on the phone, call 911! Get us an ambulance, now!" Lo noddded woozily, and sprinted off in the direction of the lobby.
Now only Graciela was left. She stood for a few seconds, eyes growing wide with horrified awareness. "Madre de dios. It was us. We did this. We did this to Xander." Her face was turning ashen gray.
"The First did this. Now shut up and help me, goddammit!" Kennedy returned her hand to Xander's wrist, feeling again for his weak pulse. She looked back at Graciela, inclined her head in Willow's direction. "Check on Willow. Make sure she's breathing okay, but don't move her, you hear?"
Graciela swallowed, nodded, and knelt down beside the unconscious Willow. As she bent to listen for the sound of breathing, Willow suddenly coughed, convulsed, and opened her eyes, sending Graciela squealing backwards.
"Wow." Willow sat up slowly, still dizzy from her disembodied journey. "That was, uh, different." She looked over at Kennedy, took in her grim expression, and began scrabbling to her feet. "Xander! How is he? Is he okay?"
Kennedy chewed her lip anxiously. "I don't know, Willow. I don't think he's taken any hits to the vital organs, but he's lost a lot of blood, and I think they must have bashed his head pretty hard somewhere along the way." As Willow clambered across the grass, Kennedy leaned over and peered into Xander's staring eyes. "His pupils are different sizes. That's not a good sign, is it?"
Willow reached out and took Xander's right hand. It was cold to the touch.
"I think I can do something," she said. "At least help a little. But... But I'm pretty much out of energy."
They heard a soft gulp, and looked up to see Graciela standing beside them, cheeks streaked with tears. "Please, Miss Willow. Take my strength... my spirit." She extended a trembling hand. "Use it to save him. I beg you."
Willow gave her a hard stare. "Graciela, right?" The girl nodded. "Okay. Sit down." She patted a spot on the grass, then clasped Graciela's hand with her own right one as the young Slayer settled onto the ground, keeping hold of Xander's hand with her left. Willow closed her eyes in concentration, letting her mind loose to explore the extent of her friend's injuries.
As Kennedy watched, Xander's wounds began to heal. The flesh of his shoulder and forearm, the skin of his cheek, the countless scrapes and abrasions... slowly but surely, the cuts were knitting themselves closed, the streaks of blood shrinking as they were absorbed back into the skin.
The look of concentration on Willow's face intensified. Now Kennedy could see the pulses of light as they flowed down Graciela's arm, across the fingers of Willow's right hand, then out through her left hand and into Xander's battered body. Kennedy looked back at Xander, saw the stirring beneath the skin of his face and chest as Willow worked beneath the surface to mend the broken ribs, soothe the swelling bruises.
Then suddenly Willow gasped, and her eyes snapped open, the pupils flaring with the rush of power. "No more," she said, and abruptly released Graciela's hand. The young Slayer slumped, drained into near unconsciousness, and Willow untangled her fingers from Xander's. "That's all I can do. Doctors are gonna have to take it from here."
Lo came running out of the hotel lobby, Neena and Bet at her heels, and all three carrying armfuls of sheets and towels. The sallow young desk clerk came scurrying along behind them with a first-aid kit.
"Ambulance is on its way," Lo called. "We told them there was a fire. And, uh, a car crash."
While Willow and Graciela watched from the sidelines, Kennedy marshaled the others to swaddle Xander in bedding, check his vital signs, monitor his breathing. A couple of minutes later an ambulance pulled up into the hotel parking lot, and Bet casually ripped out a swath of chain-link fence to give the paramedics access to the swimming pool.
"I'm gonna be honest with you girls," the older of the two paramedics said. He was burly, bearded, eyes rimmed red with sleeplessness. "We're really shorthanded here in town. Things have been getting kinda crazy over in Buffalo, and pretty much everybody's been called in to help deal with things there. But..."
"But?" Kennedy prompted. "But what?"
The paramedic sighed. "I think it would be better if we could get your friend to the main hospital in Buffalo. But the way things are going down over there, I think we'd need an army to get through."
Willow staggered forward, still reeling from her exertions, but the look she gave the paramedic was steely with determination. She raised a wobbly arm, and waved it to encompass the motley crew of frightened, queasy young women in their torn and blood-stained clothes. "You have an army. Let's go."
...........
The minivan rattled down the highway with Kennedy at the wheel, following as close as she dared behind the flashing lights of the ambulance. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder into the back of the van, where Willow was conferring with the four younger Slayers. "Hey, Red. You're sure we're, you know, safe for the time being?"
Willow paused for a moment in the middle of rummaging through her tote bag. "Yeah, I think so. The circle will protect you guys for a little while, at least. And anyway, I think The First has other things on its mind right now. Ah!" Willow had found what she'd been looking for. With a grin of triumph, she produced a permanent marker from the depths of the bag.
"Uh... Miss Rosenberg?" Bet raised a timid hand, like a student with an embarrassing question for the teacher. "What's that for?"
"I think I can arrange for something a little longer-lasting." Willow popped the cap off the marker and held it ready. "Okay, who wants to go first?"
The principle, as Willow explained it, was similar to that of the enemy's own ritual invocation. "That stuff it had you say--the eye, the tongue, the ear, the hand--that's meant to bind you to The First, make you its, uh, representative. For magical purposes, anyway. Like it's branding you." The girls winced, and Willow hastened to reassure them. "Good news is we can use our own invocation, bind you to something else instead, so The First can't get at you." She gave them an embarrassed smile. "Bind you to me. If, uh, that's okay with you."
Lo shrugged. "Beats the alternative." She gave Willow a quizzical look. "So, uh, these inscriptions. You said they can go anywhere on the body?"
"Yep, that's right." Willow waved her hand vaguely. "Sole of the foot, shoulder blade, calf of the leg, bellybutton--anyplace you're comfortable with 'em. I just need to write the four runes, each in a different place." She paused for a moment. "Kinda like the Harbingers, come to think of it. But not so much with the mutilation."
"The Harbingers?" Graciela gave her a quizzical look, making a tally on her fingers. "Two eyes, the tongue... That's only three runes." She considered a moment. "Oh. Okay, ewww."
Minutes later, Willow was finishing her work, reciting the incantation as she drew the corresponding runes on Bet's back. "I am the rain that washes clean... I am the hand that heals." She snapped the cap back onto her marker. "Okay, all done!"
"Pretty damn clever, Red," Kennedy said admiringly as Willow eased herself back into the front-row passenger seat. "So where'd you learn that trick?"
"Honestly? I'm not sure." Willow pondered briefly. "Last year, when I went on that whole magic rampage... I kinda absorbed a lot of stuff out of this big pile of Dark Arts books. Maybe it was floating around in my head all this time, waiting for something to knock it loose." But listening to herself, she wasn't entirely convinced.
"And me?" Kennedy's voice was tight with tension. "You think we're okay waiting to give me the human graffitti treatment?"
Willow reached over and gave her knee a reassuring squeeze. "Like I said, I think we're good for now. I'm pretty sure The First is gonna carpe the diem and blow through Niagara Falls while we're out of its way."
"So we lose this round, then," Kennedy grumbled.
"Nuh-uh," Willow smiled. "I think we've learned what we needed to know."
Kennedy raised an eyebrow. "And that would be?"
Willow leaned back in her seat, contemplative. "Two things. For starters... The First is in Buffy."
"Go on."
"And the other thing? I'm pretty sure... It leaves her when she sleeps."
They drove on for a minute in silence, considering this. Then they reached the outskirts of the city, and Kennedy had to devote her full attention to the road.
As the rapidly emptying highway wound its way into Buffalo, they began to see the same signs--the pillars of smoke, the guttering flames, the abandoned vehicles at the sides of the road--that they'd seen as they circled around other urban areas on their way across the country. Then they rounded a curve, and gasped involuntarily at the sight before them.
The great slab of an office tower reared up ahead of them like a glass tombstone. Symbols were inscribed on its surface, charred sigils twenty or thirty feet high, burned into the walls and windows. Though neither Willow nor Kennedy could read these runes, they understood immediately what they signified.
As they stared, they took in the smaller buildings clustered about the foot of the tower--block after block of burned-out shells surrounded by drifts of smoldering garbage, twisted fragments of wrecked cars, unidentifiable debris. People stirred in the ruins, ragged figures smeared with red and black, working their way through the rubble towards the spot up ahead where the highway narrowed between a tangle of overturned truck trailers.
"Now entering enemy territory, babe," Kennedy said. "Buckle up."