Chapter 10
That prolonged, hurried ride down the mountain had been exhausting. She fell asleep again in the middle of taking a bath and was only vaguely aware of strong arms drawing her out of the water, drying her off and tucking her into bed. She woke up in the mid-afternoon to find Spike fast asleep against her and light slanting sideways through the drawn curtains.
Her body clock was all messed up. She rubbed at her face vaguely and felt him come awake beside her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Spike. Go back to sleep. You were up all day yesterday and all night. Your body clock’s probably even more screwed up than mine.”
He stretched, yawning, then kissed her shoulder. “Nah. Better to get up now. Otherwise I’ll be up all night again and we’ve got a big day tomorrow when Old Smoky arrives.”
They had what Buffy called a belated lunch and Spike called tea.
“It’s four,” he protested. “Everyone knows that’s tea time, not lunch.”
“The chef probably calls it hell on earth,” Buffy muttered and he laughed.
“Poor sod. No regular schedule with us around, that’s for sure.”
Adara arrived in the middle and accepted a cup of tea and a cookie as she brought them up to date. Tariess was fine with sending the dragon home instead of continuing to try to kill it. The Convocation was being summoned from all the places that it had dispersed to, and every member of it was now on his or her way to the capital and would be here in plenty of time for the spell-casting at noon tomorrow. The beacon had been lit at Reishi station and the dragon would know that he was expected. And the city had been warned.
“We do not want any fools firing at it with crossbows,” Adara explained.
“Yeah, it might think we’re double-crossing it,” Spike muttered. “I would.”
“Precisely. They have been told to leave any action to the Guild, on pain of death. And the Guild have been told not to move without explicit orders from Tariess.”
“I wish that gate could open to more than one destination at a time,” Buffy sighed and Spike gave her a wry glance.
“Thought you didn’t mind spending another forty-four days here, pet.”
“I don’t. But Heaven knows what’s happening back in Sunnydale.”
“They’ll survive,” said Spike callously.
Tariess wanted them to have dinner with him tonight. Buffy and Spike reluctantly agreed, knowing that they had no real choice in the matter, and were pleasantly surprised to find that, instead of the uncomfortable formal state dinner that they had been expecting, it was just an informal gathering in Tariess’s private dining room. The only people at the table were the two of them, Adara and her husband. Tariess, and the highborn lady that Tariess was presently courting.
Tariess apparently intended to be in the square tomorrow when the dragon arrived, despite the warnings of his entire Council, the Convocation, his generals and the Guild. Adara tried to change his mind again, but he shook his head adamantly.
“It is like a battle,” he said. “And in a battle, one leads from the front, not the back.”
“‘Come on’ rather than ‘Go on’.” Spike grinned at him. “That kind, are you? Good for you. Didn’t think kings did that, except in the Golden Age of heroes and whatnot.”
Tariess looked amused, rather than offended. Though dignity seemed embedded in his very bones, he had a sense of humor.
“Battles have been part of my life. My father was killed in battle with the southern kingdom that is now part of our lands. My uncle who became regent for me refused to pass over rulership when I attained my majority at twenty. He had to be...persuaded.”
“Went to war, did you?” said Spike. “Did his head and the heads of his heirs decorate your version of our Traitor’s Gate?”
Tariess wouldn’t have recognized the allusion, but he understood it. They smiled grimly at each other.
“They did.”
“Not a peaceful land, then.”
“Not even before the dragon came,” Tariess agreed. “Even now, enemies press on us from lands across the ocean.”
“Do you have ambitions in that direction?”
“No. But they have ambitions in ours. We will defend against those.”
“Exciting times.”
“You might find it so,” said Tariess meaningfully.
“You do not know much of our world,” Adara said. “You haven’t even seen much of it, except for the Hasjarad and a little of the city. It is a vast and beautiful land. We will have leisure now to show it to you over the next forty odd days.”
It became apparent that they were being courted. Tariess wanted their talents for his use. Buffy and Spike exchanged flickering glances and Buffy courteously intimated that they were willing to at least think about it over the next forty-four days. It seemed only polite and took the pressure off.
“Just have to pull this little trick off and it looks like they’ll hand us the keys to the kingdom,” said Spike when they were back in their apartments again. “Hope Old Fireworks doesn’t change his mind before tomorrow. Back in a tick, luv. Got a few arrangements to make with Dehren.”
About which, once again, it was better to know nothing.
She woke up early the next day. Spike was still sleeping and she didn’t disturb him while she took a bath, then ate breakfast leisurely in her bathrobe out on the living room terrace. To her relief, it was a fine, sunny day. The Adepts of the Convocation might be thrown way off their stride if they had to endure the vagaries of weather on top of contending with a dragon while trying to do a very complicated spell. The last time they had cast that spell, it had been in the sheltered Audience Hall in the Hasjarad.
At ten, she went to wake Spike up.
“Ceremony’s at noon,” he objected sleepily.
“Well, it’s ten. Come on. Get up. We should get dressed and ready.”
“To stand around waiting for two whole hours?” He reached out and pulled her into bed. “Got better ways to pass the time. Naked under that, are you?”
“Hey! We so do not have time for that!”
“Sure we do. Could get you off in five minutes.” He pulled her robe open and ran his lips over her breasts.
“Ohh...” She arched involuntarily to his mouth. “Five minutes? Too fast. Let’s shoot for half an hour.”
He laughed deep in his throat. “Oh, yeah, much better.”
Cadhi and Dehren came for them at eleven. They were ready by that time, though getting dressed had been a bit of a last-minute scramble. Spike’s eyes were still dancing with laughter at Buffy’s haste and embarrassment.
Preparations were well under way when they got to the square. Black-uniformed Guild lined the sides of the huge space. The Adepts of the Convocation were gathered at the north end, muttering among themselves as they went over the words of the spell. Adara was with them. There was a line of Guild in front of them, and in front of that again, Tariess and his guard. Aside from that, the normally teeming square was deserted, the whole city quiet and still, its inhabitants cowering in their houses behind locked doors and shuttered windows.
“We are ready,” said Tariess as the two of them bowed formally to him. “And you?”
“As we’ll ever be,” shrugged Spike.
Buffy glanced at the knapsack he had dropped between his feet and said nothing.
“There!” said one of the Guild suddenly.
A flake of burning gold had appeared on the horizon. It drew nearer with shocking speed, like a comet. Buffy caught her breath. Glittering in the sunlight like some vast, superb, golden work of jewelry art as it flew, the dragon was beautiful and terrible at once. A breath of awe and fear and wonder passed through the square.
It stopped over them, cupping air with its vast wings that spanned the entire width of the enormous square. They staggered in the downdraft. Then it lowered itself smoothly into the square, taking up most of it. Its wings flared high, then folded. Buffy hadn’t realized how huge it was. Sitting on its haunches, its head was level with the highest tower of the city.
It looked down at them with amused, cunning, oily green eyes as she and Spike stepped forward to meet it, Spike swinging his knapsack casually in one hand.
“And there stands the leader of these people, come to face me,” it said and malicious laughter ran through its mind-voice. “What a revenge it would be to burn him where he stands!”
“Remember that little packet I flipped down your throat in the caverns?” said Spike. “Well, every one of the Guild here has one of those. If I give the word, they’ll toss them at you. You may have survived one bomb. You won’t survive them all.”
So that was what he had been arranging last night! Buffy’s lips tightened.
The dragon’s gaze moved from his face to hers. “No sense of humor,” it remarked.
“Not funny,” said Buffy sharply.
“Oh, very well.”
“You know what you need to do. The Convocation will begin the spell in a few minutes. We need you to add your power to theirs.”
“Done.”
Adara raised her hand and the Adepts began to chant. The dragon raised its head, eyes flaring to a brilliant emerald.
Something moved in the air. Buffy had no magical abilities whatsoever, but even she could feel the power pulsating like leashed lightning through the square. The nape of her neck shivered and the fine hairs on her forearms stood up as if by static electricity. The power grew as the Adepts kept chanting, filling the square like lightning in a bottle. It became painful in its charge, tearing at all of them and the world.
“There!” exclaimed Tariess. The Guild refused to be distracted, keeping their eyes fixed rigidly on the dragon. The Adepts were focused on their chant. Buffy followed Tariess’s gaze upwards.
High above their heads, the air tore apart, a jagged black rent in the fabric of existence. It quivered, then widened.
“Ah!” said the dragon and launched itself skyward. They all staggered in the wind of its departure. It flung itself towards the rip in the air.
Buffy glared at Spike. “You gave the Guild bombs? How can you be sure you’ll get them all back? What if someone keeps one, analyzes it? Have you even thought of what the consequences might be?”
He grinned at her. “I gave them stones, Slayer. Told them they had spells on them. I’ve got the bombs right here in this knapsack. Was gonna toss them under him if he made a move. But you believed the Guild had bombs. And because you believed it and they believed it, he believed it.”
“You are such a...!” But she couldn’t help laughing.
“A gift, Champion,” the dragon called from high above them. Something spiraled down and struck the ground with a thud a few feet in front of Buffy. It was a golden scale. “Time. Forty-three days. Stolen from him, given to you.” They both heard its laughter. “A small return for that nastiness you threw down my throat, vampire. Is it a good revenge?”
“It is a good revenge. Better than you know,” muttered Spike under his breath.
The dragon laughed and flew into the rift. The rift snapped shut and vanished as if it had never been.
“I don’t understand,” said Buffy. “Time? What did he mean?”
Adara came running forward to catch up the scale. “Power! The scale is charged with power. We can open the gate for you too, avera. Give us a couple of hours to rest and then, if you wish it, we can send you home.”
Buffy gasped in shock and delight. “Oh, yes! Oh, that’s wonderful! Spike! Did you hear? We can go home today!”
She wasn’t able to hear his answer. The square had gone crazy. People were pouring into it, yelling and screaming with joy. Bells were ringing. Even the Guild had lost their imperturbable calm and were shouting too. Hands thumped Buffy and Spike on their backs, spun them around, snatched them along. Voices cried their praise.
The Guild finally had to rescue them. Under Tariess’s orders, black-coated forms formed up around them and escorted them back to the Hasjarad through throngs that yelled deliriously and showered them with flowers.
“Well, that was an experience,” said Spike once they were once again in their apartments, accepting his knapsack back from Dehren who had snatched it up for safekeeping. “Never been a hero before. Don’t like it.”
“We knew!” Emer said. “We knew you would do it, averin!”
The staff was all around them, cooing and exclaiming.
“And best of it all, Emer,” Buffy exclaimed, “we can go home. Today!”
“We are so glad for you, avera! But we will miss you. We will all miss you. It has been a pleasure having you with us.”
The staff all bowed in agreement.
“We’ve enjoyed it too, Emer.”
It took quite a while to break away from all the congratulations and excitement. A message came from Tariess saying that the Convocation would be ready for them in the Audience Hall at three, but that he wanted them to come down half an hour earlier if they would. Buffy sent back word that they would comply.
The silence in her bedroom was a welcome change from the tumult outside.
“Oh, wow! That was something else, wasn’t it?” she exclaimed to Spike.
“Yeah.” He seemed very quiet.
“I think I’ll forget about my Sunnydale clothes. I’ll wear this yellow leather outfit home. Want it as a souvenir. Emer wanted to give me the whole wardrobe of brocade jackets and whatnot. Isn’t that sweet? What are you going to do with those bombs?” she asked, glancing at the knapsack Spike put carefully down on the bed.
“Gonna take them with me, drop them into the Void. Should just vanish there, be no danger to anyone.”
“Good idea.”
“Buffy, we could stay,” he said abruptly.
She looked up in surprise, then laughed. “Still want that forty-three days being made much of by everyone? Keys to the kingdom and all that?”
“No, I mean...” His face was tense, eyes intent. “We don’t have to leave. Ever. They’d let us stay.”
Her eyes widened as she realized what he meant. “You’re suggesting...permanently?”
“It’s a nice world, isn’t it? Most of the people do like us and that Lehren git’s discredited now. Tariess wants us to be part of his Guard. Would pay us well. And the Guild would let us in. Make us official. There’s a lot we could teach them. Couldn’t go on living here, of course, but we could find a place to stay somewhere else. Big city. Will miss the staff, but we could visit, right? And...”
“Spike.”
“Lots of things going on here. From what Tariess said, sounds like it could get real interesting. Lots of things we could do...”
“Spike, I can’t! You know I can’t.”
“Why not?” he demanded fiercely.
“I’m the Slayer. It’s bad enough that I’ve been away for seventeen days. God knows what’s happening in the Hellmouth right now. Demons are probably overrunning Sunnydale. And as long as I’m alive, no other Slayer can be called. Being in another dimension doesn’t change that. I’m still alive. I have to go back.”
“Buffy...”
“Spike, you know it’s not possible.”
He spun away to the other side of the room, his hands clenched at his sides, came back swiftly.
“We could be together here,” he said intensely. “ They wouldn’t let us be together back in Sunnydale.”
She caught her breath. “Don’t.”
His eyes burned; his lips were compressed in a tense, hard line, their corners indented with stress.
“Haven’t you...liked it?”
She couldn’t meet his eyes.
“I liked it. I...Spike, you knew. You knew when this started that it was only temporary, that... that...”
“That you were just indulging in the dark side, yeah.”
She heard the pain in his voice. “Spike...”
He looked up at her, his face very white and strained. “I love you.”
Her breath stopped.
All the pieces were clicking together, everything he had said and done over the last seventeen days. The way he looked at her and touched her. The sacrifice he had intended to make in that cave. God, she had been so blind! So stupid!
“Oh, Spike, no!” she whispered.
He held out a hand helplessly. “Buffy, I love you.”
And she couldn’t say, as she would have before: you don’t have a soul; you can’t love. She knew better now.
“I don’t...I don’t...Oh, Spike, I can’t! I have to go back! I’ve been happy here, but I can’t stay! There’s my duty and...and...my Mom and Giles and the Scoobies...”
“The people you love.”
“Yes!”
“Yes.” He looked down, reached out somewhat blindly for the knapsack. “Sorry I brought it up. Gonna go say goodbye to the staff. To Cadhi and Dehren. They’ve been good people. We’ve still got half an hour to go before we have to go see Tariess. Meet you in the foyer, okay?”
“Spike...”
“It’s all right, pet. Knew it wouldn’t be any good. Had to try though. That’s what I do.”
“Spike, I’m sorry!”
“So am I, luv.” He smiled twistedly at her and left.
Why did things have to get so complicated? Everything had been so simple until this happened. She dropped onto the edge of the bed and put her head into her hands. Nothing had changed really over the last seventeen days. He was still a demon, still a killer, still evil, still lacked a soul. So what if they had been happy here? This was just a glitch, a snag in the usually smooth weft of their lives. They had both known that. Things had to get back to normal now. Why couldn’t he just have accepted that? Why did he have to drop this bombshell on her head?
‘It’s all about you, isn’t it, Slayer?’ she heard his voice say accusingly in her head as he had before. She was focusing just on herself. But she didn’t want to think about what he must be feeling right now.
He had promised her no price, no consequences. It was unfair of him to be changing the rules on her now.
All the staff had assembled in the reception hall to say goodbye, even the chef. She thanked him especially; he had been remarkably patient with their vagaries. She hugged Cadhi and Dehren as well since, even though the two Guild members would of course be walking them down to the Audience Hall, there would be no opportunity to say a proper goodbye there.
“Time to go,” said Spike quietly, picking up the knapsack.
Neither of them looked at each other or said a word all the long way down to the Audience Hall. Tariess was waiting for them in a chamber just off the main Hall.
“I am sorry that you are leaving,” he said. “We were hoping that you would choose to stay.”
“I know,” Buffy said. “Thank you for wanting us to. But I have duties back home and Spike can’t stay without me.”
“The food problem. Yes, I understand. We were thinking of some reward for what you have done for us. We want to give you...”
Half the wealth of the treasury, it seemed. Buffy declined.
“It’s very gracious of you, but I can’t accept a reward for doing my job. It could set a precedent that might have unpleasant consequences, the way this Slayer thing works. You’ve already been so kind! That lovely apartment and the staff and the clothes...We’ve been very happy here.”
“But we must present you with some honor, if only that the people demand it.” He smiled at her. “A medal, perhaps? A small Order?”
Buffy laughed. “Medals are fine.”
“Good. Come into the Audience Hall and we’ll present it there in public. The Convocation has gathered there and will open the passage when you are ready.”
“One thing,” she said. “Don’t let the Adepts play around with the Void anymore. It’s just too dangerous.”
“They shall not,” Tariess said grimly. “We have learned our lesson.”
They turned to let Cadhi and Dehren escort them to the Audience Hall ahead of Tariess, who was obliged to make a formal entrance a few minutes later. Tariess held Spike back for a moment and said something in his ear. Spike nodded and gave Buffy a flickering glance.
“What did he say?” asked Buffy curiously when Spike finally joined her.
“He said to take care of you.”
“Oh.”
They both looked away awkwardly.
The Audience Hall was thronged with people who set up a huge cheer when Buffy and Spike appeared. The Convocation of Adepts was drawn up to the left of the dais, Adara carefully holding the scale. She came over to say her own goodbyes, then returned to her place when Tariess took the dais.
There were the expected speeches and Tariess pinned Orders on their chests. The Orders were apparently the very highest the land could give—for exemplary courage and heroism in the face of the enemy, Tariess announced in ringing tones. Buffy saw the corner of Spike’s mouth twitch involuntarily with amusement. She could clearly see him thinking, ‘Not a sodding hero!’ and she couldn’t help smiling
She was going to miss that camaraderie that had sprung up between them, miss being able to turn her head and share the joke and see the laughter in his eyes. She hadn’t realized until now how much she shared with Spike that she hadn’t been able to share with anybody else.
Then the Convocation opened the passage.
They both threw a last glance around at all the smiling faces and Buffy gave a lingering one to the ones she would miss, like Cadhi and Dehren, Adara and Tariess. Then they stepped forward into dark and cold. The gate snapped shut behind them. Buffy felt Spike make a shrugging movement that tossed the knapsack of bombs away into the Void.
They were swept through freezing blackness again, but this time they knew what it was and didn’t fight it. Then the other gate opened and they were staggering out onto grass and concrete.
They were back at UC Sunnydale, standing on the campus exactly where they had left it. The only thing different was that it was now twilight. A lingering glow in the sky suggested that the sun had only just gone down. Spike let out a breath of relief. They hadn’t been sure of where or when they would return and he had been ready to make a dive for the nearest sewer entrance.
“Wonder what day it is,” Buffy said. It felt really strange being back here again—the campus, the town stretching out beyond it, even the smell of the air. All so familiar and prosaic and normal. She felt as if that other world had been all just a dream, just like Spike had said. As if none of it had really happened. Only the clothes she was wearing and the Orders blazing on the left side of both her jacket and Spike’s duster attested to anything different.
“Guess we’ll find out,” Spike muttered.
“Suppose.”
He unpinned the Order from his duster and looked down at it. It was a golden star, splendidly jeweled.
“Gonna fetch a nice price when I hock it,” he said sardonically and dropped it into the pocket of his duster, then shoved his hands into his pockets as well and looked up at the sky. “Right then.”
“Guess I’d better get back home,” Buffy mumbled. “Everybody must be freaking out.”
“Yeah.” He hunched his shoulders uncomfortably. “Well. See you around, Slayer.”
“Spike!” she said sharply as he began to turn away. Somehow she didn’t want to see him go.
He turned back quickly, hope lighting in his eyes. “Yeah, Slayer?”
“I...want you to leave Sunnydale.”
“Oh.” The hope died out of his eyes. Buffy bit her lip.
“I can’t...I can’t let you feed on the populace and, if you’re here, I’d have to...Spike, I don’t want to have to stake you!”
“Yeah. Right.” He nodded. “Won’t put you to that choice, Slayer.”
“You said there’d be no consequences!” she flung at him suddenly. “You said there’d be no price!”
“Well, there isn’t, is there, Slayer?” He smiled at her twistedly. “Not for you.”
Her eyes widened. No price for her. But there was a price for him. And he had known and accepted it right from the very beginning.
She jerked towards him. “Spike...”
Something tinkled on the pavement as her foot brushed it. She looked down, startled.
It was a ring, flashing green in the light of the streetlamps. She bent and picked it up. It was the Gem of Amara.
Spike started to laugh, a bitter, ugly sound. “Guess you didn’t drop it in the Void after all. Cosmic joke, innit, Slayer?”
It was. She looked numbly down at the Gem lying glittering on the flat of her hand.
“Take it,” she said suddenly and held it out to him.
His eyes widened. Then:
“No,” he said. “Give it to Angel. He’s the one with the soul, isn’t he?”
“Spike...”
He reached out and touched her face very delicately. Two fingertips jolted against her lips, so lightly that she almost didn’t feel it. Then he ducked his head in a kind of bow and spun away, black leather disappearing into black shadow in an instant.
Buffy suddenly wanted to cry.
TBC
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Author's Chapter Notes:
The fabulous banner is by the awesomely talented Ben Rostock.
Chapter End Notes:
Glossary: aver: sir / avera: ma'am / averin: plural / nefai: gentle being / nefa'in: plural / ri: three miles