Brian D. Buckley

Standard Disclaimer

This is fan fiction of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, which were created by Joss Whedon. If you like, you can read my thoughts on the ethics and legality of fan fiction.

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[Start reading story from beginning]

[Go back to chapters 19 & 20]

Chapter 21

The vampire had Italian features and a Dracula haircut – the Bela Lugosi Dracula, not the real one. He wore a black three-piece suit and a black tie. Manacles bound his hands and feet. A Slayer flanked him on either side.

As Buffy approached, he bowed. “Black Dragon,” he said, with a slight Italian accent. “It is an honor to meet you. I am Giosuè Adami. I have traveled from Rome to meet you.”

“Didn’t ask, don’t care,” said Buffy, stopping about ten yards away. Despite Giles’ grumbling, the whole group was gathered behind her, plus a few of her Slayers. “How did you get past our defenses?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t. I have been waiting inside the crater for some time. A crevice in the rock kept the sunlight away.”

“Must’ve been just outside our scanner range,” the red-haired Slayer muttered. “My fault, ma’am. I’m sorry.” Willow decided to call her Dana.

Buffy nodded, never taking her eyes off the vampire. “What do you want?”

Adami bowed again. “I respectfully challenge you to single combat.”

She crossed her arms. “Yeah, that’s not really how this works. See, my goal is to kill vampires, not play little gladiator games with them.”

“I came here,” said Adami, “because I do not wish to die cowering in a hole, like so many of my brethren. If I must die, I wish to die with honor.”

“Vampires don’t have honor.”

“Perhaps. But you do. Though you play general and give orders, you have the heart of a warrior. You move pieces on a map, but you would rather be one of them.” He smiled, foxlike. “You wish for a fight.”

“Do I, now?”

“I think,” said Adami, “it is long since you truly fought a vampire. I think you miss it. The taste of the fire of battle. No lieutenants to do your bidding, no technology to hide behind, no advisors to hold you back. Just your bare hands, a wooden stake, and the foe you were born to kill.”

Buffy stood silent. Her right hand curled to a fist and opened again. A desert breeze swept by and was gone.

Dana leaned close to her commander. “Ma’am,” she said quietly, “with all due respect, please tell me you’re not seriously considering this.”

“What she said,” added Willow. “Buffy, he’s just playing with your emotions. Psych 101. He’s obviously trying to manipulate you.”

Buffy kept studying the vampire. “He’s doing a pretty good job.”

“This could, of course, be a trap of some kind,” said Giles.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t feel like it. And you know what? He’s right. It’s been too long since I fought a vampire.” She looked around at them all. “Come on, I did this a thousand times back in Sunnydale. You can’t tell me it’s suddenly too dangerous now. And if anyone says a word about my age, they’re walking home.”

Xander shook his head. “You’re insane,” he said, “but that’s not exactly news. If you have to do this, Buff, then please be careful.”

Buffy faced the vampire again. “You do realize that even if you managed to kill me, my Slayers would rip you apart?”

“They’d have to get in line,” muttered Willow.

“Then I would die,” said Adami, “with more glory than most vampires have in all their lives.”

Buffy nodded at his guards. “Go ahead, unshackle him.”

One Slayer produced a key while the other held a cross in his face. He laughed. “That relic doesn’t frighten me, child. A man who died and rose from the grave after three days. Any vampire can relate.”

Having removed the manacles, his guards backed away. He rubbed his wrists. “I had a knife,” he said. “One of the women took it.”

“Give it to him,” said Buffy.

“Commander!” cried Dana.

“I have a stake,” said Buffy. “It’s only fair.”

Adami was given his weapon, a long, serrated hunting knife with a leather grip. He cut the air, this way and that. Buffy waved her companions back to a safe distance.

Just the two of them.

Chapter 22

They circled like animals in the light of the full moon, Adami brandishing his knife, Buffy with hands raised in a fighting stance, stake holstered at her side. Rumor of the battle spread quickly among Slayers and witches alike. The off-duty ones arrived by twos and threes, forming a sparse ring around the action.

Tension was electric. Willow could see it in the audience, in their nervous motions, their determined faces. She could feel it in herself, her shallow breathing, the tightness of her legs. This contest had the feel of something more than human, of two titans brawling for the dominance of some primeval country.

Willow, Xander, Giles, Dawn, they had never – would never – enter a battle like this. They fought for survival, for justice, sometimes for love or rage, or even for power.

Buffy was fighting to fight.

She attacked first, a wicked spinning jump kick that Adami barely ducked. They fell into the brutal ballet of combat, blocking punches, dodging kicks, Buffy always keeping just out of range, somehow, of the flashing arcs of the knife. Her heel pounded into his chest, and he went sprawling.

Buffy smiled as he got up and dusted off his suit. “Aren’t you a little overdressed for a knife fight?”

“I am headed for a funeral,” he grinned. “Besides, I heard you like black.”

Adami fell on her again, using his larger size to his advantage. His great right fist connected with her midsection, her face. She stumbled back. He swiped with his knife. A thin red line grew on her stomach.

Dana started forward with a cry, but Giles caught her shoulder. She turned on him furiously.

“She would never forgive you,” he said.

After a moment she nodded, shaking, and stepped back.

“I can smell the blood of your heart,” Adami crowed. “It is intoxicating. Soon I will taste it.”

“I can smell the styling gel of your hair,” Buffy shot back. “It is disgusting. Soon I will throw up.”

Growling, she leaped on him, landing a hard chop to his neck, then kicking the blade from his hand. Before he could react, she pounced on it, got up, and launched it far out into the desert.

“Sorry,” she said. “I have a thing about knives. I don’t like them inside me.”

Without the threat of the knife to separate them, their fight descended into a brawl. She kicked him down, he swept her legs out, they rolled over and over in the dry dirt. He ended up on top of her, smashing her face, again, again. She drove the heel of her hand into his throat, and he rolled off. Her elbow crunched into his nose. He kicked at her knife-wound, she stumbled back.

Blood poured from Adami’s nose, over his lips, down his neck. His suit was filthy with dust. Buffy had gashes on her cheeks and the beginnings of a bruise over one eye, and her stomach wound was still bleeding. They stood apart, recovering.

Come on, thought Willow. Finish this already.

Adami spat his own blood on the sand. “You are out of practice, Dragon. All this trouble over a single vampire? Your idleness has made you weak.”

“Your face has made you ugly,” said Buffy.

“Do you know, I can trace my lineage back to the Master? They say he could trace his all the way to the Source, the very first vampire.”

“Yeah, and I’ve met the first Slayer. We gonna compare family trees, or we gonna fight?”

“Each vampire sires the next by killing,” said Adami. “Each Slayer empowers the next by dying. Two great chains of death, both stretching back to time before history. We are not so different, you and I. Two predators. Opposite sides, but the same creature, in the end.”

All remnants of humor drained from Buffy’s face. With a wordless roar, she flew at him for the last time. Blow after blow fell like hail on her enemy. It was all he could do to block them. She pushed him back. Back. Landed a strike on his face. His solar plexus. A kick to his knee. An elbow to the stomach.

She had him face-up on the ground, now, too weak to defend himself any longer. She pummeled him, over and over, as everyone watched.

Finally she grabbed her stake and set the point down over his heart. Bleeding and limp, he gazed at her.

“Any last words?” she said.

Slowly, Adami looked back up at the stars. He cried out with a terrible voice, something that sounded like:

“Te telle stai!”

“Sorry, bud,” said Buffy. “I don’t speak Italian.”

She turned him to dust.

The Slayers, the whole audience, erupted in applause. Buffy stood up, stake in hand, arms high in triumph. Willow cheered and clapped along with everyone. Only Giles remained silent, a look of worry on his face.

Buffy came back to her friends. The rest of the circle gathered behind her. Everyone spoke at once.

Willow: “Buffy, that was incredible – ”

Xander: “You’re hurt, we have to get you to a doctor – ”

Dawn: “Oh my God, I can’t believe – ”

Bleeding, sweating, still breathing hard, Buffy brushed past everyone, grabbed Spike, and planted her mouth on his. He clutched her tight, not even looking surprised. Their lips didn’t separate for a long time.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” muttered Giles.

“Maybe I could get another eyepatch and cover both eyes,” said Xander.

Willow said nothing. She thought it was kind of sweet. In a violent, disturbing sort of way.

At last, Buffy let him go. Spike caught his breath.

“About damn time,” he said.

Buffy went to Giles. “What were those Italian words he said?”

“They, they weren’t Italian,” said Giles. “They were Greek. And actually it was just one word.” He cleared his throat. “Tetelestai. ‘It is finished.’”

“The last thing Jesus said on the Cross,” said Willow. They all looked at her. “What? I’m Jewish, not illiterate.”

“A flair for the dramatic,” said Xander. “And a bit of an ego.”

“Well, whatever,” said Buffy. “We all need to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

They walked back to camp together. But despite the smiles and excitement, Willow couldn’t help but notice the gears still turning silently in Giles’ brain.

[Go on to chapters 23 & 24]

Standard Disclaimer

This is fan fiction of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, which were created by Joss Whedon. If you like, you can read my thoughts on the ethics and legality of fan fiction.

---

[Start reading story from beginning]

[Go back to chapters 17 & 18]

Chapter 19

Illyria spoke up again. “Do you regret what you did?”

A weight settled in Willow’s stomach. Tell the story, get it out, and be done, that’s all she had wanted. “I’m sorry?”

“You destroyed a star,” said Illyria. “You committed the premeditated murder of multiple sentient beings. You drastically reduced your own abilities. You put twenty-one other witches at risk. And you toyed with Lilah’s soul. These are morally questionable activities. Do you regret what you did?”

“No,” said Willow. “I did what I had to do. It was the right decision.” All around, her friends nodded.

“I agree,” said Illyria.

“Oh. Well, um…good?”

“So why will you not perform the Almada spell?”

Wow. And she’d thought it was awkward before. Willow’s heart thumped as she searched for the words to respond.

“Someone help me out,” said Spike. “What’s this Almada business?”

“The Almada spell,” Giles chimed in. “A magical means of reversing certain types of otherwise incurable mental illness.”

“Wait,” said Spike. “There’s a spell that can cure him? What’s the catch? Why haven’t you done it?”

“Giles told us not to,” said Willow. “While he was still…himself. He thought it was wrong. Too much like cheating death, meddling in dangerous forces, intruding on the sanctity of the mind.”

Spike snorted. “Okay. And? People say stupid things all the time. Doesn’t mean you punish them by holding their sanity hostage. I don’t even like the guy, but what he’s got, I wouldn’t wish on a dung demon.”

“Spike!” Willow snapped.

“He’s right,” Buffy said quietly.

“I am?” Spike looked over in surprise. “I mean, damn right I’m right.”

“I never understood why you didn’t cure him,” Buffy said. “It wasn’t my decision, so I kept my mouth shut. But I always thought it was wrong to leave him that way.”

“That is my assessment as well,” said Illyria.

“Pretty much,” said Dawn.

“What, all of you?” Willow felt like her skin was getting tight. “Xander, come on, tell them.”

“Sorry, Will, but I vote with the majority. I get what you’re saying, but you’re overthinking it. There’s a disease, there’s a cure. He’s our friend. What else matters?”

She wanted to hide, to run away, but they were all waiting for an answer. She had to give them an answer.

“It’s not up for a vote,” she said roughly.

“Will – ”

“No, Xander, listen. All of you, listen! This has happened before. Don’t you get it? We had this same debate over resurrecting Buffy. Everyone told me to be careful, but what did I do? I ripped her out of heaven. I did that. Giles called me a rank, arrogant amateur, and you know what? He was right.”

“But here I am,” Buffy said quietly. “Because of you, Willow. I don’t wish I was back in the ground.”

“When Tara died,” Willow went on, “you all know what happened. I did what I wanted, whatever I wanted, because I could. This is about self-control. It’s about respecting the universe. You don’t just wave away the things you don’t like. That’s not a path you want to start on.”

“I get it,” said Dawn. “But we’re not talking about ripping anybody’s skin off, Willow. We’re trying to heal him. If one of our lab techs found a pill that would cure Giles, you’d give him that. How is magic any different?”

Willow was shaking her head. “No. No. I’m not explaining it right, I realize that, but none of you understands. None of you has carried the kind of power that I have. Not even you, Buffy.”

“I have,” said Illyria.

Willow blinked in surprise.

“I was a god among gods for longer than the age of the cosmos,” said Illyria. “I murdered trillions of innocents for pleasure. And when I took over this shell, I killed Winifred Burkle, an intelligent human being.”

Spike smiled sarcastically. “You’re, um, not really selling the argument, Blue.”

“I did these things because I lacked a conscience,” she continued. “But I acquired one from Wesley, and from the leftover fragments of Fred’s mind. When Charles Gunn was captured and made to suffer, I ripped a hole between dimensions and brought him back, even though it was the fate he chose for himself. I do not believe I was wrong.”

Head tilt.

“Do you?”

Willow sighed.

It was getting late. Her head hurt, and they faced a battle tomorrow. She wanted to go to bed. The issue had waited ten years. Surely it could wait till morning.

But there, sitting on a rock, alone among friends, squinting at the fire and whispering to himself, was all that remained of Rupert Giles.

She owed him a decision. That much, at least.

“Emily,” she said.

The younger woman jerked, startled. She’d been quiet all this time. “Ma’am?”

“You were there when we killed the Partners. You understand power. Now you’re stronger than me, and you’d be the one to cast the spell. Tell me. What do you think we should do?”

Willow thought Emily would hesitate, defer, try to wiggle out of answering. She should have known better. Emily’s reply came swift and certain.

“I’m game if you are,” she said.

The fire crackled quietly.

After so many years of self-restraint…could she really have been wrong the whole time?

Maybe, sometimes, using the power took more humility than rejecting it.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s bring him back.”

Chapter 20

They gathered in Buffy’s tent, the entire campfire group. Dawn seated Giles on a folding chair in the center. The rest of them stood before him in a semicircle, Emily at the middle, Willow beside her. Two lanterns provided an eerie light.

Emily produced a small tablet and tapped the screen a number of times till she found what she wanted. “Here it is,” she said. “Almada.”

She lowered the device. “Not going to lie,” she said, “this spell makes me pretty nervous. It’s really complicated, it could go wrong in a hundred ways. You’re all sure you want me to try? If it fails, it could do nothing, or we could even…lose him.”

It was Dawn who answered. “We’ve already lost him.”

“Do it,” said Buffy.

“You’ll be fine,” said Willow, wondering if the butterflies in her stomach were in everyone else’s too. “And I’ll be right here to help you.”

“Okay,” said Emily. “Here we go.”

She lifted the tablet and read from the screen, chanting in a low voice.

“Ante leves ergo pascentur in aethere cervi…”

A sudden wind tugged at the tent canvas, shaking the structure. Giles’ mouth fell open. He looked around, startled.

“…et freta destituent nudos in litore pisces…”

A cloud of glowing specks gathered and swirled over his head. He gazed up, eyes widening with terror. Panting. Hyperventilating. “The text is corrupted,” he gasped. “The volumes are misnumbered. Out of order. Out of order. I cannot…I cannot locate the original…”

Dawn bit her lip in worry. Willow set a hand on Emily’s shoulder, watching the spell’s invisible lines, offering what support she could.

“…ante pererratis amborum finibus exsul…”

Wind howled and whirled in the tent now, blowing at their clothes, their hair. The cloud of light over Giles grew brighter. He tried to stand, but some hidden force seemed to push him down. He screamed. Dawn was shouting something, drowned out by the wind. Xander had his arm around her.

Still Emily’s chanting continued, deep and clear somehow despite the whirlwind.

“…aut Ararim Parthus bibet aut Germania Tigrim…”

The glowing nebula filled all the air above, nearly blinding them. The lines of magic, which only Willow and Emily could see, curled and twisted around each other, pirouetted and dived.

The air shrieked. A wide gash ripped across the top of the tent. Giles screamed again and again, his gaunt face resembling a skull in the ghostly light. Dawn tried to run toward Emily, but Xander held her back. Buffy just watched, still as a rock, hair flying in the gale.

“…quam nostro illius labatur pectore vultus!”

The wind died instantly.

Quick as a blink, the cloud of light rushed into Giles’ mouth. His eyes flashed yellow and dimmed. His screaming stopped. Silence. He hunched over, quiet and limp.

Dawn leaped forward and knelt beside him. “Giles,” she whispered. “Giles, are you okay? It’s me. It’s Dawn. Do you know me? Giles, please. Are you okay? How do you feel?”

“No one…” he mumbled.

“What? What are you saying?”

“No one offered me a marshmallow.”

Dawn shook her head. “I don’t…”

“I should have liked a marshmallow,” he said quietly. “Nobody offered me one. Even a madman likes a candy.”

Buffy crowed with sudden laughter. “Giles,” she said. “You’re back? Are you back?”

He looked up now. All around the tent, seeing each one of them. “I feel I might be,” he said, “only I’m not sure where I’ve been.” His gaze turned to the Slayer. “Buffy, what’s going on? What’s happened to me?”

“Oh, Giles,” she whispered, and they all rushed together then, laughing and crying and talking all at once, hugging each other, hugging him.

Finally Dawn shooed them away. “Give him some room,” she said. “Everybody, just give him a second.”

Giles was frowning. “I’m not sure anyone has answered my question.”

“You were…sick,” said Dawn. “A kind of dementia. It’s gradually been getting worse for the last ten years. You were sort of, well, in your own world. We felt like we’d lost you. Do you remember any of it?”

“Well, yes,” said Giles. “More or less. A bit patchy. But, uh, well then, how did I…recover?”

Dawn opened her mouth to answer, but closed it again.

“We sort of, um…” Xander trailed off.

“I did it,” said Emily. “I cast the Almada spell on you. I know it goes against your wishes, and I’m sorry, but – ”

“No,” said Willow, “it was me. I mean, Emily did cast the spell, and she did a fine job, but I take full responsibility. It was my decision.”

“Like hell,” said Xander. “We all chose this. We all decided together.”

“Even me,” said Spike.

Giles got a pained expression. “You let Spike vote?”

“Well, that’s a fine how-do-you-do,” said Spike.

Giles glanced at him, did a double-take. “You’re human.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Which means you lot can’t just off me whenever you feel the urge. You’d have, eh…” He searched for the word, then snapped his fingers. “Qualms.”

“You’d be surprised what I’m willing to do,” said Buffy.

Spike leered at her. “No, I have a pretty good idea.”

“One more word – ”

Giles looked wearily at Willow and Emily. “I don’t suppose you could bring the dementia back?”

Just then a tall, red-haired Slayer entered and found Buffy. “Commander, I have news.”

“Not now,” Buffy snapped.

“But Commander, we’ve captured a vampire.”

“Lieutenant, I told you – !” Buffy paused as her brain caught up to her mouth. “A vampire? Here? In the middle of the desert?”

“It approached us with a white flag, ma’am. It wanted to be captured. It’s asking to speak to you. We can kill it if you like, but I thought you should know.”

Buffy nodded slowly. “All right, thank you, Lieutenant. Sit tight for now. I’ll be out in a little while to examine it.”

“Ma’am.” The Slayer left.

“You’re needed,” said Giles. “You ought to go now.”

“We just got you back, Giles. I can’t leave you already.”

“You don’t have to.” He stood up. “We shall go together.”

“Giles!” said Buffy. “It could be dangerous. Besides, you’re…”

“I’m what?” said Giles. “Too old? Too feeble? Rubbish. You are my Slayer, and I am your Watcher, and we shall investigate this matter together. Xander, Willow, you’re with us. The rest of you, stay here and try to keep out of trouble. Come on, everyone, I’m not getting any younger!”

He walked out of the tent.

“Well, you heard the man,” said Buffy, and followed him out. Willow and Xander looked at each other.

“Screw that!” said Dawn. “I had to wipe drool off his chin, I’m not taking his orders now. I’m going to go see a freakin’ vampire!”

“If she’s going, I’m bloody well not staying here,” said Spike.

“I also wish to observe,” said Illyria.

“Fine,” said Willow. “Less talking, more walking.” They all followed Giles together.

Emily brought up the rear. “So, yeah, you’re welcome, everybody! Difficult spell, very dangerous, healed a beloved friend? No problem. Happy to do it. Your gratitude is my reward! Anyone?”

[Go on to chapters 21 & 22]

Standard Disclaimer

This is fan fiction of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, which were created by Joss Whedon. If you like, you can read my thoughts on the ethics and legality of fan fiction.

---

[Start reading story from beginning]

[Go back to chapters 15 & 16]

Chapter 17

It was late afternoon when they reached the crater. Everyone stared as they went off-road, onto the dry dirt, and circled around the outside.

“I haven’t seen it since the day we left,” said Xander. “It’s so…empty.”

“I haven’t seen it, ever,” said Spike. “Was kind of dead at the time. By the way, you’re welcome, everyone.”

For most of the crater’s circumference, it was a sheer drop to the interior. But in one area on the south side, the slope was gentle enough to drive on. They made their way there, and then to the center of ‘town.’

Buffy’s Slayers did their thing, scouting the area, creating a perimeter. Emily led the witches in casting one defense and trap after another, as Willow observed their magic and made the occasional correction. The main spell was a great invisible dome, covering the whole crater, which nothing evil could penetrate.

In theory.

Finally all preparations were complete, all strategies confirmed, everything as ready as it could be. The sinking sun painted the desert red and gold till their growing shadows faded into the general darkness and the first stars appeared. Willow shivered and put on a jacket.

Murmuring something in Latin, Emily started a fire over bare dirt, then pulled a dozen rocks into a circle around it. She sat on one, and Willow made herself comfortable on the rock beside her. Soon Xander, Spike, Dawn, Giles, and even Illyria were seated around the fire. Giles was pointing at the sky, seemingly drawing constellations with his finger.

“Well, isn’t this a cozy little pre-apocalyptic campfire,” said Dawn.

“Technically, all campfires are pre-apocalyptic,” said Xander. “The world has to end sometime.”

“Sure,” said Dawn, “with that attitude.”

Willow rubbed her hands together. “All of us together again, I’d be pretty disappointed if there wasn’t at least one Armageddon to look forward to.”

Xander opened a large travel bag and fished out marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate. Spike watched him. “You’re seriously making S’mores?”

“Don’t want ‘em, don’t eat ‘em,” said Xander.

“Hey now, let’s not be hasty,” said Spike. “I never said that.”

Xander passed around the snacks and some metal skewers, as well as boxes of apple juice. Soon Willow found herself eating a S’more for the first time in ages.

“Um, Illyria,” she said, “I think your marshmallow’s done.” It was on fire, black as charcoal, oozing white goo.

“This food is revoltingly saccharine and lacks nutrients,” said Illyria. “I enjoy watching it burn.”

“I said that about Cathy’s sweet potatoes one time,” said Xander. “We still have ladle marks on the wall.”

A figure emerged from the shadows.

Buffy.

“New shift is starting,” she said. “I’m going to sleep now so I can be up by six. If anything happens, get me. I’ll be in that tent over there.”

She nodded once, hesitated, turned to go.

“Hey, Buff,” said Xander. “Stay, why don’t you? One way or another, this is all over tomorrow. We might not get another chance like this.”

“Yeah, come on, Buffy,” said Willow. “We have sugar.”

The Slayer looked around doubtfully, then glared at Spike.

“Oh, come off it, Goldilocks,” said Spike. “If it makes you feel any better, I won’t talk directly at you. Promise.”

After a moment, Buffy sat down between Giles and Emily. She declined an offer of marshmallows.

Awkward silence reigned. Willow began to wonder if inviting her had been a good idea. Come on, she thought, somebody say something.

“So. Illyria.” Xander casually unwrapped another chocolate bar. “You a virgin?”

Dawn spewed out her apple juice, either laughing or choking. Spike grinned. “Xander!” cried Willow, though she was smiling too.

“What?” said Xander. “She’s obviously not shy about, um, biology. Can’t a guy ask a simple question?”

They were all – except Giles – looking at her now. All, apparently, a little bit curious. Even Buffy.

Illyria did her head-tilt thing. “It depends on one’s precise definition of the term ‘virgin.’”

Silence.

“So…many…follow-up questions,” said Xander, pretending to gasp for air. “Can’t…choose…just one…”

“Well,” said Dawn, “I have a question for you, Willow.”

“For Gaia’s sake, Dawn,” Willow said. “I didn’t do it with Faith, and I didn’t do it with Illyria. Just because I’m a lesbian, doesn’t mean I’m some kind of sex-crazed lunatic.”

“Okay, one, our bedrooms used to share a wall,” said Dawn, “so I know exactly what kind of lunatic you are. And, two, not the question I was going to ask.”

She leaned toward Willow from across the fire. “It seems like a good night for a story, and like Xander said, this could be our last chance for a lot of things. I was wondering…well, I guess I’ve always wondered. How did you kill the Senior Partners?”

“Oh.” Willow pulled her jacket a little tighter. “That was so long ago. I doubt anyone’s interested.”

Xander’s hand shot up. “Ooh! I am.”

“Yeah, Will,” said Buffy, “all you ever told me was that you did some kind of spell. I could never get you to spill the details.”

“Maybe that’s a clue, children,” Spike said sourly. “Some things you don’t feel like talkin’ about. Why don’t we leave her be?”

Willow sighed. Spike was right – some memories you would rather forget. And yet, in a way, it might be good to finally tell the story.

She looked at Emily, who gave her a small nod.

“Okay,” said Willow. “Here’s what happened.”

Chapter 18

“To do the spell, we needed space, and we needed privacy. One of our students had a big barn on her property, so we gathered in there. I still remember the smell of hay. The air was chilly. Just before 3 AM. The witching hour.

“We didn’t have any spellbooks or artifacts or anything like that. You don’t need the relics so much for the really professional-grade stuff. We only brought one little thing. I’ll get to that in a second.

“I stood in the center. Seven witches, including Emily, in a circle around me. Fourteen witches in a circle around them. Their job was to stabilize the magic, keep it contained and controlled. My job was to do the spell.

“The plan was simple. Find the Senior Partners, and destroy them.

“Finding them was actually the more complicated part. See, their fortress shifted dimensions every forty-eight minutes or so, and of course it was well-hidden from locator spells. We had to find another way.

“So we used Lilah.”

Buffy frowned. “Time out. Lilah Morgan, the Wolfram & Hart lawyer? I thought she died way before this.”

“She was dead, but still under contract. We needed to summon her, which meant we needed something that had belonged to her. We found a copy of Dante’s Inferno she had given Wesley. Quite lovely, in fact. Sixteenth century. Wesley kept it until his death, then it passed to Charles, who gave it to me.”

Illyria listened. Firelight leaped in her eyes.

“So we summoned her,” Willow continued. “Right into the barn with us. A simple binding spell kept her in place. She started talking, and then shouting, but none of us paid any attention. We were deep in the magic by then.

“She had come from the Senior Partners’ home base, so I just followed her summoning line back to its source. And there they were.

“Once we found them, the rest was simple. I destroyed them, and their fortress, with a basic fireball spell.”

Willow sipped her juice.

“That’s it?” said Xander. “What do you mean, a fireball?”

“A ball,” Emily clarified. “Of fire.”

“Must’ve been a big one,” said Dawn.

Willow smiled.

She pointed at the sky. Giles paused his own calculations to watch her.

“You see that big triangle of bright stars?” she said. “That one’s called Altair. Right beside it, a little to the south, you can see a dimmer star by the name of Alshain. It’s a yellow giant. About ten billion years old. Part of the constellation Aquila.”

She lowered her hand.

“It doesn’t exist,” she said. “It’s gone. Alshain was forty-five light-years away, which means that in another…let’s see…twenty-seven years, it will vanish from the sky. Astronomers will go wild trying to figure out what happened, but they’ll never guess the truth. I channeled its entire energy into the home dimension of the Senior Partners of Wolfram & Hart.”

They all stared at her in astonishment, except for Illyria, who was unfazed. She said, “The star Gamma Ursae Majoris has certain properties that might have rendered it a more suitable candidate.”

“I thought about that,” said Willow, “but I would’ve felt bad messing up the Big Dipper.”

“Anyway,” she continued, “once the Senior Partners were gone, their contract with Lilah expired. Her body crumbled to dust on the floor. And we all drove home and went to bed.”

“Bloody hell,” muttered Spike.

“So that’s why you…” Xander gestured. “You know.”

Willow nodded. “Apparently, relocating a sun isn’t something the human body is really designed to handle. I burned out as soon as I released the spell. Lucky to have any magic left at all, really.”

Her eyes rested on Dawn once again.

“And that, as they say, is that.”

[Go on to chapters 19 & 20]