Andrew drove the bus over the grassy shoulder, dashed through the wire fence and rolled to grumbling stop at the base of the trail he knew would lead them underground. They filed out of the bus, all on high alert, with Buffy in the lead and William and Willow close behind her.
There were no cars at the site, no signs whatsoever that anyone had been there.
Faith sidled up to Buffy. “Looks like the party ended without us, B,” she said.
Buffy turned a slow circle, studying the purplish bruise of the horizon. Wind tore at her hair, doing its best to
ruffle her.
“No,” she said. “They’re here. I can feel them.”
“Over there,” Giles said, pointing to the crevice he had once inexpertly opened himself. “They’ve gone
underground. The Priestess must have...”
“Priestess is in there?” Faith asked. Without waiting for an answer, she stalked toward the hole.
“Wait,” Dawn said. Faith lingered without turning. “Giles, you know what it’s like down there. It’s dark, and most the passageways are narrow.”
“In short, they’re caves,” Faith said. “Saddle up.”
“Faith,” Buffy said. “She’s right. We go in with a plan. We stick together...”
Faith slung around to face them. “With you in the center, I get it. I got no problems taking point...”
“Then take this,” Willow said, passing a glowing white crystal rod to Faith. One end of it was honed to a hard
pyramid shape. “It’s an ambient light, but can also be used to poke things.”
“Nice. Pointy. I like it,” Faith said. “Now can we go?”
“Just... hang on,” Buffy said. She stepped up onto an outcrop of stone so that she could see all of them. MK
and Oz were in back, each wielding a crossbow. Anjelica, Giles and Andrew had vials of Holy Water crammed into all available pockets and into several pouches and slings. Dawn and Xander each had their trusty two-handed swords left over from their Sunnydale days. Connor, mostly because he was second tallest next to Lorne, got the battleaxe. Lorne and Maya had settled for loads and loads of Anjelica’s silver tipped stakes.
There were plenty of those to go around; they all had half a dozen of them shoved into pockets, belt loops and ankle holsters. They each had one of the glowy crystals Maya and Willow made. The luminescent stones were lighter and more durable than flashlights, and much more reliable.
Then there was William with the long triangular dagger given to him by the Sisters, and Faith, who had decided that simple shanks of whittled wood would suit her just fine. The time for fear had passed, and here they stood, ready to fight.
“I’m not going to give a speech,” Buffy said. “I’m not gonna stand up here and tell you that we will make it
through this. We may not.” Her eyes drifted over them, but she could not meet their gaze. “If we get
separated, try to make your way back here. Once we’re down there, it will be insane. Try to stay together.
Try to stay alive. Keep to the circle.”
Buffy closed her eyes. She could feel Connor and William watching her, as if both knew what she was about to say. “And save Angel for me.”
They were silent, then. The only sound came from the wind shushing through acres of grassland.
“All right,” Faith said, nodding curtly. “Let’s fall in.”
What was especially unnerving was that they trudged through dark tunnels for two hours, starting at every
odd sound and still they found nothing. It wasn’t until they came to the vast, echoey main chamber into which Andrew had fallen several weeks before that they found any confirmation that vampires had been there at all.
Faith had leapt from the last three rope ladder rungs to land at the heart of the chamber. Behind her, Andrew,
his hand drawn map clenched in his teeth, said, “Wha du ooo thee?”
“Footprints,” she said, casting an eye around the chamber. “Lots of ’em. And twinkle lights.”
Andrew dropped down to the stone with much less grace. Once he’d clumsily unhooked his tennis shoe from the bottom rung, he removed the map from his mouth. “Dawn’s,” he said, swelling with pride and gesturing around expansively at the lights. “They’re still here.”
The others joined them, one by one, until they all clustered in the chamber with their backs to the center of the circle.
“Wow,” Willow said.
“Yeah,” Faith said. She held her crystal light wand aloft to spread more light over the seven caves that
branched off into darkness. Even in that insubstantial light, they could see an impressive number of footprints.
“Maybe it’s just a couple of guys doing a lot of exploration,” Andrew said hopefully.
“And maybe Glinnda the Good Witch will pop by to tell us all to click our heels three times...” Dawn shot back.
“Guys,” Buffy said, in a cautioning tone. “Do you hear anything?”
They all listened, all of them holding their breath.
Finally, Oz said, “I hear... water?”
“Underground rivers,” Giles said, touching the wood-bound book he’d tucked inside the breast pocket of his coat. “The book alludes to some deep beneath the surface.”
“I hate catacombs,” Andrew muttered.
“Anything else?” Buffy asked.
But Oz shook his head. “Nope. Nothing.”
“Well,” William said, sounding bored. “There are seven halls. Which one’s the lucky...?”
As luck or fate would have it, William and Buffy faced the hallway that contained Boadicea’s tomb. And from
that corridor, a lone figure emerged. He was dressed in a black silk suit cut in an Eastern style, ultra-modern
in its sleek luster. He wore a fresh white rosebud in his lapel. The waves of his blond hair seemed to ensnare the light. He moved toward them with calculated grace. Buffy could hear MK and the others behind her, turning instinctively to get a better look.
“Don’t turn your back,” Buffy warned. “Keep the circle...”
“Ah, Miss Summers,” Thellian said. His voice was warm and silkily inviting. “Such good advice.”
“Where are the others?” she demanded. “Where’s Lalaine. Where’s Angel?”
Thellian clicked his tongue. “In good time,” he said, spreading his hands. “I trust we all know why we’re here.”
“Shyeah,” Faith called loudly. “To kill us some vamps.”
Anjelica shushed her.
Thellian laughed. “Fair enough,” he said. He began to pace, slowly, and with deliberate steps so that everyone had a chance to see him. “Faith, is it?” He peered forward into her incredulous face. “Ah, yes. I have heard so much about you. About all of you. Really. I feel like we’re already family. I believe in family, Miss Summers. But you must already know that.”
“Enough of this,” Giles said. He drew a stake and a cross from his pocket and readied for the charge. But
Dawn caught his arm so tightly, he swung around and almost fell.
“Look,” Dawn said. She pointed to the hollows of the caves before them. There were others, obscured by
blackness.
“Well spotted, Dawn,” Thellian said. He raised one hand high above his head. The other vampires moved
silently forward, gradually becoming more material as they approached.
“No,” Faith breathed. “It can’t...”
MK clamped a shaking hand over Faith’s mouth.
Seconds later, Buffy saw what MK and Faith already knew. She saw the distinctive shapes of Carmen and Renee among them. There was no mistaking the way the pair naturally inclined toward each other when they stood.
Jess and Gwen flanked Lalaine, who sported a machine gun as a rather unexpected accessory to her full-body Trinity vinyl suit.
They were vampires. All of them. Her Slayers.
“Oh, bollocks,” William breathed.
Buffy heard a sharp intake of breath beside her. She turned only her head to see Robin Wood emerge from the gloom.
“You bastard,” Faith said. “You goddamn bastard...”
“Oh, now,” Wood said. “Looks as though I’ve lost my Faith.”
This time Faith rushed forward.
“No!” Buffy shouted.
Oz caught her. Faith wrenched free, but he grappled both arms and pinned them behind her back.
“Don’t break the circle,” he whispered.
The Scoobies echoed his words to each other, holding firm to their places. Buffy could hear it in their voices; they were positively terrified.
Thellian had made a complete circuit around them. He took a place beside Lalaine, and upon their signal, the
vampires stopped advancing.
“So now you’ve met my family,” Thellian said. “I wanted you to see a few familiar faces so you can understand.
We don’t want to kill you.”
“No Kennedy?” Willow blurted suddenly. Tears spilled down her face.
“No Kennedy. No Althea,” Anjelica added.
“And where’s The Priestess?” Faith yelled. “Where’s the rest of your family?”
“Now, let’s be patient,” Thellian said. “Before we proceed, you must understand what I ask of you.”
“Enough talk already,” William said. “We got the bloody point. You want the Slayer...”
“Not just any Slayer,” Thellian corrected. He pointed at Buffy. “That one.”
“Yeah?” William said, “You’ll have to go through...”
“Gladly,” Thellian said. Lalaine raised her gun and fired into William’s chest. Dawn shrieked; the rest ducked, clinging to each other at the sudden ear-splitting cacophony of gunshots.
William staggered. He shot a perplexed look at Buffy before he crumpled to the ground.
Buffy swayed. “Oh God,” she muttered. “Oh...” She swung her Scythe around to attack.
Behind her, something large and furry blurred past. She heard the distinctive metallic rasp of swords drawn from sheaths. Willow shouted something in Latin, and a white flash tore through the darkness.
After the first burst of confusion, Buffy felt something cold grip her arm. She spun, Scythe singing as she
struck. She cleaved one of Gwen’s arms off at the shoulder. The girl’s face twisted into the demon mask that contorted the features Buffy once knew so well. Without pause, Buffy swung the Scythe again, burying its point in the girl’s chest. She vanished in a puff of dust.
Buffy had no more than lifted her head when a fist slammed into it. She reeled back, tripping over William’s body. She had little time to register that fact before a booted heel connected with her shoulder, sending her sprawling. Buffy scrambled. Somewhere to her right, Lalaine’s machine gun fired again. The staccato strobe-effect of the gun dizzied Buffy, but she still managed to block the next kick aimed for her head. Buffy rolled backward then bounded to her feet to find herself face to face with Renee.
“Hey!” Renee said. “Look what I can do.” She vamped out her face and showed off a mouthful of fangs.
“Not a good look for you,” Buffy said. She slashed down with the Scythe, but Renee danced back. “Where’s sis?”
“She’s around,” Renee said. She flicked a glance over Buffy’s shoulder. Buffy read it and roundhoused Carmen to the ground. Renee responded with a spectacular butterfly kick, which Buffy parried, only to have Carmen sweep her ankles from behind. Before Buffy toppled, Renee caught her shoulders and firmly head-butted her.
Sparks burst behind Buffy’s eyes. She felt her legs go watery. She recalled with grim clarity how they had
reminded her of Ginsu knives during their Slayer trial. But then Buffy also remembered that they didn’t want
her dead. Not yet. Which handed her an advantage.
Buffy let her body go limp. It was so unexpected Renee just let Buffy ooze to the ground.
“You hit her too hard,” Carmen complained.
“I didn’t!” Renee said.
Buffy jumped to her feet between them. “You really didn’t,” she said. She swept the Scythe across Renee’s chest, then shot it back stake first into Carmen. Three down.
Panting, Buffy lifted her head. Nearby, Lalaine struggled with a massive bulky beast made of teeth, claws and hair. It had torn the sleeves of her vinyl suit to bloody ribbons, but had not yet succeeded in wrenching the gun from her grasp. Somewhere close behind her, she heard Dawn, Willow and Maya chanting in Latin. Buffy couldn’t tell what they were casting, but the cavern was filling with dust and smoke. She glimpsed Connor and Xander fighting a clutch of fresh vampires close by. Apparently the Slayer-vamps and Wood had only been the
Welcoming Committee. Through the noise and shouts and confusion, she’d lost track of Thellian.
But that didn’t matter just then. There, a few feet away and face down, was William. She clambered toward
him. When she turned him over, he spluttered and his eyes opened at odd intervals.
“Will!” she said. “Get up. Come on. Get up.”
His eyes rolled until they focused on her. “Guess I should’ve seen that coming,” he slurred.
“You okay? Does it hurt?”
“Not so much, but I don’t think I’ll pass airport security,” he said. He pulled himself upright. “We winning?”
Buffy glanced around. Connor had disappeared. So had Faith. She saw Giles cram a vial of Holy Water into a vamp’s eye while MK cracked the vamp’s head with a flat rock. Lorne was backed against a cave formation
fighting three to one.
“Too soon to tell. Can you fight?”
William licked his lips. He tasted blood and scoffed. “Can I fight?” he said. He drew Ea’s dagger from its scabbard with a flourish, then sailed into the fray to assist Lorne.
“That’s my guy,” Buffy said. She scanned the chamber again, looking for Faith or Thellian. Finding neither, she decided to help out Xander and Connor and their nasty swarm of evil undead.
Buffy plunged in, raking through vampire flesh with renewed ferocity. She sent parts flying. No sooner than
the vampires understood she was there, she offed them. Soon she stood face to face with Xander. He was standing guard over Connor, who was knocked flat but conscious.
Xander embraced her briefly. He was seriously rattled.
“What happened?” Buffy asked.
“Shot. That Matrix Wannabe shot him,” Xander said.
Connor, gripping his arm at the elbow, tried sitting up.
“No. Stay down,” Buffy ordered. “Xander, stay with him. Lalaine couldn’t have wanted to shoot Connor. It
was an accident, and when Angel finds out...”
Willow, Dawn and Maya continued chanting. The volume had raised by several decibels, and now the three of them were shrouded in a hazy yellow light. Whatever it was they were planning on doing, Buffy hoped they pulled it off soon. The smoky dustiness was not helping.
“Oh crap,” Xander said. Buffy shot a cursory glance over her shoulder, following his line of sight. “More
vampires. Buffy, we can’t do this.”
She straightened. Through the thickening smoke, Buffy saw them. Scores of them.
“I know,” she said.
They heard a piercing cry that could only belong to Andrew. The light that emanated from Willow, Maya and Dawn suddenly wavered and danced.
“Keep focused,” Willow shouted. The low droning of the energy between them became an unstable warbling keen.
“Buffy!” Dawn screamed. “Buffy, help them.”
“Stay by Connor,” Buffy told Xander. “Don’t let them take you.”
Buffy charged at the pack of vampires that had overtaken Andrew and Anjelica. At first, she couldn’t see them through the carnage and feared the worst.
Things worsened, though, when they realized she was
attacking. Five vampires clamped on to her various limbs, determined to root her to the spot. One of them
was Wood.
“Hey Buffy,” he said, nearly purring. “It’s been a while.”
“You’ve really changed,” Buffy said. “I…”
Wood pouted. He said, “Don’t be so glum, Buffy. The Priestess saved my life. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t
be here right now, enjoying the look on your face.”
Buffy struggled, but the other four were rather convincing in their grip. The others in the mob who had been so intent to rip Andrew and Anjelica apart merely waited. There would be time, it seemed, to shred Watchers and Slayers alike once Wood delivered Buffy to Thellian.
Surprisingly, Andrew managed to shoulder through the group to slap Wood across the mouth.
“Let her go,” he barked.
“Andrew,” Buffy said, fighting to free herself. “Stay back. I can handle this.”
But Wood cocked his head to the side. “Little Andy,” he said. “You hit like a girl.” Wood wrenched Andrew’s
wrist around in a say-uncle hold.
Anjelica smashed her fist into Wood’s face. He stumbled backward, but held on to Andrew.
“I hit like a girl, too,” she said. She waved one of her silver-tipped stakes at Wood and his gang. “I believe we said let her go.”
Wood glanced at Andrew’s wrist. “Nice tattoo,” he said, distractedly. “Tribal?”
“It’s Kimaris,” Andrew snarled.
“Is that right?” Wood said, slowly.
“They’re gonna get that spell done, and you’ll all be dust,” Buffy said, panting. Her eyes streamed from the
smoke. She heard screaming in the distance, but it wasn’t a voice she recognized.
“Doubt it,” Wood said. With a nod, he indicated to the others to move. “Take them both. Get this one to
Luxe. Let’s go.”
With a crash, William and Lorne slammed into Wood. There was a comical moment when Wood seemed to hang in the air, suspended like a cartoon coyote. At the same time, Oz, wearing mucho fur, plowed through the vampires between Buffy and Andrew. For a split second, she caught the look of relief on Andrew’s swollen, bloody face. Afterward, the world filled with a blinding, searing, deafening roar of whiteness. The vampires nearest to the circle poofed instantly as a wave of energy rippled through the cavern. Buffy crouched, shielding her eyes as the light washed over them. It weakened as the wave widened outward, but even Wood and the vampires surrounding him got fairly scorched.
As it dissipated, everyone waited in stunned silence while the light faded back to the dull glow of what
remained of Dawn’s twinkle lights. The sudden darkness and quiet seemed exaggerated in contrast to the constant drone of the spell and the din of battle. Buffy wasted no time getting to her feet. Some of the singed vampires fled deeper into the tunnels, fearing another wave, but Buffy could see from where she stood that wasn’t about to happen. Willow and Dawn stood stiffly erect, their breathing clearly labored. Maya glanced up at Willow. She swiped absently at the blood that streamed from her nose. Willow darted forward in time to catch Maya before she collapsed.
The vampires witnessed as well. They surged forward, renewing their attack. Wood seized Buffy’s arm and twisted her around to face him. She raised the Scythe, but Faith slugged him in the back of his bald head.
“No way, B,” she panted, striking him again with a bloody palm. “This one’s mine.”
Buffy ducked away. She fought her way through to Oz, who was now fighting back-to-back with Anjelica.
Buffy sliced through one of his attackers caught unawares. Another stepped forward to fill the void, and there were three others clawing forward behind that one.
It grew more desperate by the second. Still there was no sign of Thellian, and no sign of Angel.
Buffy realized then that it was foolish to think they would show. Thellian was a General with an army at his disposal, and Angel’s blood was as precious to the Circle as hers was.
“William!” she cried.
“Oy?” he called back. He and Lorne were tag-teaming a group of vampires on the other side of Andrew. Buffy
clawed and elbowed through them, ramming the stake through the final one with frustrated vigor.
“I have to find the Circle,” she said.
“Uh, no...” he said. He looked at her as though she’d gone daft from getting hit in the head.
“Angel’s already there,” she said. “Don’t you see?”
“It’s a trap,” he said. A vampire charged in. He caught it without looking up and neatly sliced its throat.
“I know.”
“I’m going with you,” he stated.
“You have to protect the others,” Buffy said. She was rapidly backing away from him, disappearing into the
mob. “Protect Dawn!” she shouted.
“Buffy!” he yelled. She turned away from the sound of his voice, running with fervent determination, straight
for Boadicea’s tomb.
The chamber containing the tomb was vacant and preternaturally still. She slipped in unnoticed, heart rattling against her rib bones. The battle sounds fell away and soon she found herself facing Boadicea’s sarcophagus.
Buffy steeled herself inwardly. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. With the Scythe held
ready, she jumped onto the ledge that bore the tomb and kicked the stone lid with all of her strength. It slid
back with a thunderous crash. A whiff of ancient dust sifted into the air, followed by the unmistakable scent
of brine. Buffy leaned over the tomb. When she did, a draft of cool air tugged at her hair. She hoisted her
enchanted glowy stone over the edge and peered into the black below. A rickety ladder snaked out of sight.
With shaking hands, Buffy pulled herself over the lip of the tomb. She dangled her legs down until her toes
touched the ladder. Then, with one hand clutching the Scythe, she began her descent into Boadicea’s tomb.
William panicked. In his panic, he berserker-frenzied nine vampires before finding Dawn and Willow.
Willow had scrabbled a hasty circle of protection around them while Dawn tried without success to revive Maya.
“She’s gone,” William practically screamed at them.
“No,” Willow bit out, still concentrating on the ring of protection. “She’s over-exerted. She’ll be fine...”
“Not her. Not her! Buffy,” William said. “She’s gone.”
A vampire lunged at him. He batted it casually away with the flat of his blade.
Dawn’s eyes filled with tears. “This can’t be happening. It can’t...”
“Stop it,” Willow said in a low growl. “Keep to the circle.”
“That’s what she’s done,” William said. “She’s gone to find it.”
Just then, the room seemed to grow colder by several degrees.
“No,” Willow said. “Not now.”
William blinked. “Not what? What is it?”
Through a gap in the fighting, William saw for the first time what Faith and Willow had already seen: the
telltale twisting tendrils of The Priestess.
“Get everyone back here,” Willow commanded. “Draw them back together, or she’ll take us apart...”
William saw Faith running head-on for the mass of black tentacles. Dawn scrambled forward, clasping Willow’s hands.
“Get them, Spike!” Dawn said.
Faith crashed into the Priestess, screaming with fury.
The dissonant collision gave him a brief gap in which all of the vampires ceased fighting, seemingly to get a better view of the brawl. William located Anjelica, MK and Giles strong-holding behind an outcrop of rocks.
They scampered back to Willow and Dawn. Oz loped back to the circle on his own. William glimpsed Xander and Connor attempting to slip through the vampire ranks. Both were injured and leaned heavily on one another. William attempted to make his way to them when he tripped over the confetti-ed body of Lalaine.
She caught his ankle and twisted it. He rolled, but smacked against the cave floor hard enough that his dagger flew from his hand.
There was loud crack, followed by a purplish flash. Faith swore and the Priestess shrieked. William would have given a lot to see the kind of wound Faith caused. As it was, Lalaine had him flat on his back. She crawled over him, pinning his arms with surprising force.
“Werewolf friend,” she groaned. “Tore pieces of me. Not hospitable...”
Lalaine pushed him against the rock, turning his face to expose his neck. He wrenched and twisted, but she
held him down.
“Plans for you,” she said. Her mutilated face, still somehow excruciatingly beautiful, hovered inches above his.
“We have... such plans.”
“Spike!” Dawn cried.
He tried again to wrest himself free, but Lalaine buried her fangs deep into his skin. As she drank, everything
seemed to dim around him, the grinding and crunching of Faith’s fight with The Priestess, the shouts and jeers made by the vampire mob, Dawn’s constant frightened pleas for him to get up. He could hear his own heartbeat rushing in his ears, feel his pulse in his temples, taste the blood in the back of his throat...
Lalaine sat back, tossing her luxuriant hair. Her face was whole again and her eyes shone with a fierce fire.
“Your blood,” she purred exultantly, licking her fangs. “It’s...”
Lalaine blinked rapidly as if she might start weeping. She slapped at her chest and shook her head fitfully. Her fingers hooked into claws and she ripped at her throat. William tried to push her off of him once more, but she gripped him convulsively with her thighs. Patches of seared flesh appeared in her ivory neck. It spread through her veins, turning to white-hot embers until her skin burst into flames. She screamed as she tore at herself. Her eyes smoldered and her lips blackened.
William at last broke her hold. Lalaine’s body turned to ash in his hands, then crumbled, leaving nothing but a
few scant wisps of auburn hair.
“Holy vessel, yeah?” William whispered, undeniably shaken, breathing ragged in his chest. He turned, bound for Willow’s circle, but a small girl with matted red hair gripped his wrist, spinning him around to face her. She glowered up at him through the tangled mass of her hair. In her hand she clutched his triangular blade.
William cracked his neck. “Well, come on then,” he said.
“Eya,” she said, brandishing his knife beneath his nose. “Ell ataya. Ea. Aconda.”
“What did you say?” he asked.
The girl drew another blade from behind her back. She held them both up for him to see. The second blade was twin to his own.
“Ea...” he said slowly.
Her green eyes flashed acknowledgement. She smiled. “Aconda," she said. "Follow me."
There was another crack of violet lightning as Faith forced her fist down The Priestess’s throat. William
snatched his knife from the girl’s hand, and she was off. He dove after her, pursuing her with mad persistence through winding caves and crawl spaces, until the sounds of the battle faded and all he heard was the distant susurrus hush of rushing water.
In his single-minded chase to catch the girl, William never guessed that someone had followed.
The ladder terminated into a narrow shaft no larger than a suitcase. She lay on her belly and wriggled through the crawlspace, nudging her enchanted rock ahead of her. A short time later, she pushed the rock ahead and it disappeared through a round vent in the floor. She heard it clatter on stone below, letting her know that it would not be too far for her to drop. Buffy also knew, though, that if she had wanted a surprise attack, she’d just spoiled her chance.
She needn’t have worried, however. Buffy found herself in another empty hallway. This one was more cramped than the chamber that held Boadicea’s tomb. The walls and floor were smooth and unadorned. She retrieved her rock and soon discovered that this corridor was a one-way only deal. The path sloped gently downward in one direction; the other was a dead end of blank stone.
Whether this path led her closer to the Circle, she could not be sure. But she did feel a connection to this
place, an almost naked kinship to the earth. It was as though she had been here before.
The corridor expanded as she walked. Buffy sensed its cathedral-like vastness open up around her. Before
long, she saw the dim flickering orange of torchlight ahead. Buffy pocketed her glowstone, giving both hands to the Scythe.
The Circle awaited.
The Priestess couldn’t say she was upset when Lalaine fried. It was a flat knock to vamp morale, but as soon as she wasted Faith the Vengeful Slayer, there’d be nothing to worry about.
“Guess you didn’t like the little gift I gave your boyfriend,” The Priestess simpered. She dangled Faith’s writhing body from her coiling tendrils. Every twist and struggle the Slayer made gave her a little jolt of raw power. “Truth is he wanted it so bad. He was aching to have something that would make him strong as you.”
“Liar!” Faith screamed. Her voice was hoarse. Her strength was running out.
“Ah, God,” Xander moaned. “We have to do something.”
They were huddled together, those who remained, within the protection of Willow’s circle. Xander cradled
Maya’s slack, sweat-soaked body against his shoulder. Dawn crouched between Willow and Giles. Oz and Lorne, figuring vampires would prefer not biting them, kept up a perimeter guard. Anjelica knelt with them, wildly alert, a silver-tipped stake in each of her steady hands. They were all bleeding, some of them from not so superficial wounds, and Xander was fairly certain he had broken several bones in his foot.
Thellian’s army of vampires ringed the circle, all clawing and snarling and dripping blood. Occasionally one streaked forward to test the strength of Willow’s boundary spell, only to get freshly zapped. Willow knew but did not say that every time the vampires did this, her control weakened. It was just a matter of time...
There was no sign of Andrew or Connor or MK. Spike and Buffy had vanished. And Faith...
“There are a hundred vampires between us and Faith,” Giles whispered. “We’re trapped.”
“Can’t we do a spell?” Dawn pleaded.
Willow slowly shook her head.
“We can’t just watch...” Xander said.
“It’s all we’ve done so far,” Lorne said, miserably.
The Priestess raised Faith high above their heads, toying with her like a puppet to the delight of the on-
looking vampires.
“Buffy’s little dolls,” The Priestess cooed. Faith’s head lolled back bonelessly. “Come out and play. This one’s gotten... boring.”
Faith’s eyes fluttered open. She wrenched her torso around to once again face The Priestess. She swung her fist, but it moved as though she punched through a wall of gelatin.
“Oh, please,” The Priestess said. “Give up. You’re only pathetic now.”
Dawn watched wordlessly with the rest of them. Her insides were screaming to run out, do something heroic, but her body remained paralyzed with fear.
Then Dawn saw Faith reach for something. It was the glowing crystal Maya had given her. A glimmer of
inspiration sparked within her.
“Willow, I have an idea...” Dawn whispered.
Willow’s eyes had rolled back slightly with concentration.
“’Kay. Shoot,” Willow managed.
Dawn watched as Faith raised the crystal high above her head, poising to strike. Just as Dawn hoped she
would.
“The crystal,” Dawn said. “On my count...”
Faith brought the crystal down in a slow but powerful arc. The Priestess laughed at this final feeble attempt.
Willow was nodding. “Illumis solem,” she breathed.
“One,” Dawn said.
“Shield your eyes, quick!” Xander barked. He tucked his head under his arms.
“Two...”
The Priestess’s shrieking laugh filled the cavern. “You can’t kill me with stone,” she wailed. “I’m a vampire...”
Heedless, Faith drove the crystal spike into The Priestess’ eye.
“Three!” Dawn yelled. Willow seized her hand.
“Illumis solem,” they chanted in accord. “Solem enai!”
The crystal erupted like a bomb. For a second time, a shockwave of light rushed through the cave. Only this
one carried a billion gleaming razor sharp shards of molten glass. Faith somersaulted backward, tumbling like a ragdoll through the panicked vampire mob. A tremendous sucking sound like water drawn down a drain filled the air, followed by an earsplitting crack.
And then, total silence.
Dawn lifted her eyes. The Priestess was gone. Obliterated. She couldn’t tell from her vantage in the Scooby huddle, but it looked as though the nuclear grade radiation at the Priestess’ ground zero might have taken out a serious chunk of the vampire horde.
“Guess it was time for that bitch to see the light,” Xander said, catching his breath. He coughed lightly into his hand.
“Oh no,” Dawn said softly.
Fear rippled through them.
“Oh no what?” Xander asked.
The remaining vampires seemed to pick up on it, too.
“Willow,” Giles said, nudging her. “Willow? Are you all right?”
“Guys I’m sorry,” she said.
They knitted tighter together as the vampires pressed in.
“I let the circle fall,” Willow said weakly. “I let it fall.”
The Circle gleamed like a disk of cold blue steel set into stone. She could just make out the darker blue
etchings of the triskele under the somber light thrown about by the torches.
Seeing it at last made every nerve and muscle in her body thrum. Its slumbering power called to her, beckoning her forward. She thought she felt the sleeping child within her stir, and that gave her pause. She lingered on the ledge above the Circle, answering her instinct for caution.
Angel emerged like a wraith from the shadows. “I knew you’d come,” he said, lifelessly. “I always knew.”
Buffy remained rigidly fixed to her place opposite Angel. He moved forward, coming to rest at the heart of the Circle.
They stared at one another, locked together in doubt and fear and anger.
“They’re dying, Buffy,” Angel said. “You can’t save them.”
“No. They’re strong,” she said.
“Thellian plans to revamp Spike,” Angel said. “Make him what he was...”
“Stop, Angel,” she said. “This is about you and me. Not him. Not Connor. Not...”
“Then why are you still standing over there?” he asked.
His eyes narrowed to slashes of black. “No sense in
wasting more time,” he said. He raised the D’Ganti blade to catch the light on its gnarled surface.
Buffy flew at him, striking with taut ferocity. The Scythe sang and wailed as she spun it. She aimed a blow for
his chin; he dodged. She lashed at his chest, tearing his coat to tatters. She struck high; parried haft, scissor-kicked, lancing backward with the stake. He caught it, twisted hard, shoved her. She rolled sideways, turning with a dancer’s grace to attack again. Every sweep he parried or blocked, but she was swifter; he was unable to counter.
Finally, she broke off the attack. She bent low, taking a defensive stance.
“Angel,” she said, careful to hide the way her breathing hitched. “This is not you. You wouldn’t want what
Thellian wants.”
Angel chose the cover of shadow, knowing he could see better in near dark than she ever hoped to.
“Why is that, Buffy?”
“You have a soul,” she said. “You understand how evil vampires are. How destructive...”
“What I understand,” Angel bellowed, “is that a soul does not a great man make. Buffy.”
“And Thellian is a great man?” she asked.
Angel said nothing. He was circling her, she knew. Playing the role of predator he loved so well. She said,
“Answer me, Angel. If he’s such a great guy, where is he now? Huh? Left you to do the bloody work. Left you
to sacrifice...”
Angel dived in from behind. Buffy dropped her shoulder and rolled with him. They tangled, each trying to disarm the other. Buffy elbowed Angel to the nose. He clutched her throat and tossed her to her back. She scrambled, but he was already lunging. Buffy lost her footing on the slick stone. He crashed into her, sending the Scythe spinning into shadow. She jabbed him with a knuckle strike to the throat. It didn’t even stun him. He wrapped his fist into her shirt and hauled her to her feet, knifepoint to her neck.
Buffy strove to free herself. She struggled and kicked, but he was so strong. He didn’t tire as she did.
“This is not the way I would have chosen,” Angel hissed. He brought her face close to his. “This is not how I would leave the world, but I have no choice...”
Buffy choked and sputtered as his fist twisted tighter. “Angel...” she choked. “Please...”
“I have to protect what is mine,” he said. She looked into the deep wells of his eyes and saw nothing reflected in them. “I have to do what is right. It comes down to me.”
Angel released her. She massaged her throat, but remained where she was, still within his reach. Tears
threatened, but she held them back. If he meant to kill her, he would not have the pleasure of seeing her cry.
“This world, Buffy,” Angel said. There was defeat in his voice. “It’s already dead. Man’s evil corrupted
everything that was beautiful and good. They are weak. Poisoned by greed and fear. They don’t
deserve what they have.”
Angel turned the blade in his hand, chuckling softly as he watched the facetious light contort it. “Funny,
isn’t it. You and me. Full circle. You should thank me. People like us can never be happy in a world so full of hate...”
“It’s not true,” Buffy said. “None of it. People still have grace and strength in them. They can still be
redeemed. I know it now. It’s not too late, Angel. Please...”
Angel was no longer listening. He traced a finger down the line of her jaw. “Buffy,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
Morna vanished with the appearance of the light. William skidded to a halt in the hallway, straining to find her.
Somehow she’d managed to merge with the stone because he found nothing.
But he did hear voices.
He crept along the path in the direction of the light, listening to every muffled syllable. He understood too late that it was Buffy and Angel. Just as he was ready to run, someone very strong caught his arm and wheeled him around.
Connor.
“I can’t let you,” he said.
William blinked. It took him several seconds to realize what was happening.
“Like hell!” he shouted. William used his wicked left-hook on Connor’s jaw. The boy staggered back to the
cavern wall, banging his shattered arm against the stone.
William didn’t wait for Connor’s reaction. He darted blindly toward the smudge of light and Buffy’s strangled voice. Was she pleading? As he ran, he heard Connor racing behind him. William was a fair runner, but Connor had his father’s strength and extra long legs. They managed to arrive on the cliff above the Circle at almost the same time.
Both men froze as the scene unfolded below them. William saw that Buffy was defenseless. The Scythe jutted from between rocks several meters below, useless beyond her reach. Angel had his back to William and Connor.
William watched in horror as Buffy, with a small resigned sigh, closed her eyes.
Angel raised the blade and brought it swiftly down...
“No!” William screamed. His paralysis broke. He plunged down the cliff face, with Connor sliding along the sharp, stony cliff behind him.
Buffy crumpled forward. The shock of it filled her. Angel caught her arms as she fell. Both tumbled to the
center of the Circle. She stared down in stunned horror at the blood that spread in a widening rosette across the barren stone.
“Angel... What did you do?” she sobbed.
She heard the pounding of footsteps ringing like heartbeats in her ears. She glanced over Angel’s shoulder to see William running toward them. And Connor at his heels.
William ignored Angel. He dropped to his knees and knelt with her, cradling her. The blood stained his jeans and his hands, but he didn’t see...
“Will,” she whispered in a tremulous voice. Tears spilled down her face. “Wait...”
William turned to face Angel, ready to rip him to shreds.
And Angel drew the D’Ganti blade from his chest.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is the really big battle at the end.