Crown and Key: Chapter 11
by Kerythand Ginafae
Crown and Key
By Sandra and William Johnson
Chapter Eleven
“How could you bring him here!” Willow screamed hysterically as she paced the length of her room. “Oz, you of all people should know what his being here would do to me.”
Oz watched her retrace her steps from the door to the window. One, two, three, four, five, six, turn. One, two, three, four, five, six, turn. “That’s a pretty interesting dance you’re doing there, Will.” Oz commented. Willow whirled around to face him, her blue eyes getting a decidedly navy tint to them.
“Oz, if you were anyone else you’re innards would be round my neck like jewelry by now.” Willow’s voice echoed off the walls of her room. Oz backed down, holding his visibly human hands up in a sign of retreat.
“Hey, it’s okay. You know me, keep it funny when you don’t know what else to do.” Oz offered as a token explanation. He watched as Willow’s eyes cleared, her hair remaining red. “Besides, this whole evil goth girl thing just isn’t you.”
“What do you know about me anymore!?” Willow screeched. “You picked up and left about two years ago, and except for one visit when you freaked because I’d moved on, none of us ever hear from you at all. Ever.”
Oz interrupted her tirade, “Whoah. I left because you chose her over me and I couldn’t deal with it. The wolf couldn’t deal with it. God Willow, I almost KILLED her on you, and I couldn’t do that to you. I could never hurt you like that.”
“Couldn’t hurt me? You CHEATED on me with that, that bitch, Veruca, and then you deserted me and ran out. What kind of a person does that? You left me when I needed you the most. I never hear from you. You supposedly love me, but you couldn’t even be bothered enough to call when you learned about the death of someone I—I---“ Willow’s voice broke off in a sob as she collapsed to the floor in a heap. “My God,” she wept, “Tara…”
Oz crossed the distance to her on the floor. “I know, Will, I know.” He said as he pulled her gently into his lap. “Believe me, if I could take it all back, I would. But I’ve mastered the wolf. He doesn’t control me anymore. I control him. And I came as soon as I heard about Tara. Believe me, it’s a long way from Mexico to Sunnydale. News doesn’t travel all that fast.”
Willow looked up into his eyes. “That’s where you were? Mexico?”
Oz nodded. “I learned a lot from the people down there. I was studying the Aztec gods, and I noticed a legend about one of them who was a man that could change form into a wolf at will in order to devour his enemies. It hit a little close to home, if you get my drift. Anyway, I went to this little village to study that story, and found out that the man was a werewolf. I studied everything I could find about him, but nothing worked. That’s when I ran into Jonathan.”
“At first, I was a little put off, I mean, we never really were all that close, but he and this other guy didn’t seem to want to make waves or anything, just keep a low profile. But Jonathan found out what I was studying. I kinda wolfed out on him, and well, the rest is history.”
“You brought him here because you attacked him?” Willow gasped. Oz laughed.
“No, I brought him here because he managed to figure out the spell the guy in the legend cast to make him able to control the wolf completely. Jonathan modified it to modern day, and also so I can use the wolf to fight for, well, good, for lack of a better term. We’ve been hunting down some minor evils in Mexico for the past month or so, but then I heard about Tara, and when I told Jonathan I was leaving he said he was coming with me. Something about him wanting to make amends. I swear, Will, he didn’t tell me about Warren or his part in this until after we were back in Sunnydale.”
Willow smiled. “I believe you.” Oz looked at her fondly, a million memories flooding his mind. “Any particular reason?” He asked as he pushed a wayward lock of red hair behind her ear. Willow giggled like a schoolgirl before answering.
“Yes. First off, because you’re Oz and you’d never lie to me.” She sat up and hugged him tightly. “And secondly, because that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at once.”
***
“So tell me again why I shouldn’t let my new friend with the hokey name crush your bones into powder?” Buffy asked Jonathan, a bemused smile on her face. She truly felt so sorry for him. Jonathan now sat in He-Man’s vacated seat. Xander, having resumed commando mode, had promptly taken the liberty of tying him to the chair. Lara, Buffy, and He-Man now stood in a triangle around the small man, who looked decidedly terrified. A quick wink at He-Man told him that Buffy had no intentions of hurting this pathetic being, just scaring him. He-Man smiled, catching onto the game, and picked up a piece of the broken table in his hand. With a quick snap of his wrist, he instantly crushed it to powder. Lara needed no hint as to Buffy’s true intentions, and she smiled sweetly at Jonathan; her sunglasses were perched on the end of her nose so her eyes could be seen as she idly polished one of her pistols.
Xander, who was once again designated to doughnut duty, stood at the counter arranging the pastries on a plate. He knew what Jonathan had to be feeling; after all, these were some pretty intimidating people to be dealing with. All Jonathan ever wanted was friends. He just kept picking the wrong ways of making them. Maybe when this particular apocalypse was over, Xander could teach Jonathan how to fit in with this crowd.
Maybe then he’d finally get to do something besides get the doughnuts and tie people up.
“I believe my friend here asked you a question, maggot.” Lara spat out in a pathetically poor California accent, trying to be tougher than usual. Somehow, upper-crust British accents weren’t all that intimidating unless you were James Bond.
Jonathan’s eyes darted from Buffy’s stake, to Lara’s pistol, and finally settled on the kick-ass sword strapped to He-Man’s back and back to the sword hilt which peeked from beneath the black duster Lara wore. His eyes filled with tears.
“I told you, I wanted to make things right. I just wanted to help Oz, and then the feather lady started appearing in my dreams, and telling me to fix some sword.” He looked pointedly at He-Man. “Is your sword broken?” Jonathan took a deep breath. “Cause it looks, you know, all Conan the Barbarian like and all that.”
“Feather lady?” Buffy asked.
“Yeah.” Jonathan said. “She was really pretty, and she had an eagle on her head and feathers for hair. She had this Marilyn Monroe type voice too.”
“That wasn’t her hair. It was part of her cape.” He-Man stated. “You claim to be getting visions from The Sorceress?”
Jonathan’s eyes widened. “You believe me?! Thank God! I Thought I was just going crazy, or having some sick kind of porno dream.”
He –Man advanced slowly. “What was that?”
“But a good, respectful type of dream. She stayed fully clothed, I swear!”
“Jonathan-“ Buffy started. He turned to face her. “Never mind, too easy.” She looked at He-Man. “This Sorceress lady is the same one who’s been contacting my sister?”
“It would appear so.” He-Man replied.
“Good!” Buffy said enthusiastically. “Now we have some place to start in the morning.”
Lara politely excused herself. “I’m going to go help Giles with the other sleeping crazy. If you’ll excuse me.” Buffy turned. “There’s some chains downstairs, if you’ll think they’ll hold her.” Buffy called after her.
“On second thought, maybe I should watch Adora tonight. I think she would have trouble fighting me.” He-Man said sadly. Buffy frowned.
“Because you’re so big?” She joked.
“No.” He-Man replied. He took a deep breath, and placed a hand on his sword. With a sigh, he allowed the magic inside him to return to the sword. Buffy watched as he transformed from a scantily clad muscle man into a still fairly ripped blond man in a white shirt, a purple furry speedo, purple tights, vest and boots. “She’s my sister.”
Xander shook his head in disbelief. “This is too much for me at this hour. I’m passing out the food and then passing out. “ He playfully shoved the plate of pastries down the counter; just out of Jonathan’s reach, had he not been tied to the chair. “Buff, I’m tired. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leaned in and kissed Buffy on the cheek. “Uh, Lara. If the couch is too lumpy, you’re welcome to my bed tonight.” He generously offered.
“Will you be occupying it?” Lara teased him with a playful smile, her true accent having returned to her speech pattern.
“Only if you’d like me to.” Xander quipped back, having started to become accustomed to Lara’s flirting.
“Then by all means, join me-“ Lara let her voice trail off as Xander turned to face her with a wide grin.
“You’ll be quite comfortable on the floor, I believe.” She finished with a chuckle. Lara sauntered out of the kitchen, but not before she saw Xander’s face momentarily fall from her last put down.
And not before she had time to regret saying it.
As she strode from the kitchen to the living room, Lara noticed that the front door was still ajar. She stepped over the broken furniture to close it when a cold wind whipped in from outside. Pushing against what was left of the door with all her strength, Lara thought she heard a whispery voice speak to her:
“You too shall pay, Tomb Raider, if you dare to cross me.”
Lara shook her head briefly and looked around the room. She no longer stood in the desecrated living room, but back at her manor in England. The Book of Sevens, the tome she had found the legend of Morganna the Misbegotten in, lay open on her lap. As she watched, the legend of the crown erased itself from the page. Lara’s memories from the past day began to fade as well. She was wondering why she had even opened this book when her eyes fell on the picture next to the crown. The image of a girl, sixteen, maybe seventeen, with long flowing dark hair and deep brown eyes was taking shape on the page. Around her neck she wore a single pearl on a gold chain. The colors in the pearl began to swirl, and a feathery voice spoke to her.
“Do not stray from the Path, Lara Croft. You will be needed to protect the Key to the Dimensions. You will be needed to save us all.”
“Why me?!” Lara questioned.
“Patience, my child. All will be revealed in good time. The Watcher knows more than he says. He too, will play an important role. He alone holds the knowledge to combat this evil. And the other young man, the one with the wonderful wit, do not let him fall away. He is irreplaceable. Without him…all is lost.”
“She lies…don’t be fooled by her…” A raspy voice whispered in Lara’s ear. “You don’t need to go to California. You are needed here. There is more work for you here. Whistler needs you. As does Bryce. Don’t leave. Grave danger will befall you. You mustn’t—“
“Bloody hell, will you shut it?!” Lara shouted. “Honestly, if I’m going to be contacted telepathically, do you really think I’m going to listen to the voice that sounds like it came from the ninth level of hell?!” Lara shook her head. “Christ, I’m starting to talk like Buffy now.” She thought to herself.
In the back of her mind, Lara heard the feathery voice laugh. “Be patient, child, and all will sort itself out in time. Remember, you are stronger than her…”
SLAM…
The remainder of the front door closed, with a bang, shaking Lara from her vision. Quickly, she grabbed a pen and paper off the remains of an end table to write down what she had just seen. Writing down her dreams was a habit that Giles had gotten her into, back when she was a little girl
***
Adam stared silently at his sisters sleeping form. Adora lay strapped to the bed, with Adam at her side. He looked fondly at his sister, who seemed so peaceful in sleep. It was hard to believe that a few hours ago, she had single-handedly destroyed two rooms in the Summers home.
“I promise you, sis, I will find out what is wrong and I’ll fix it. No Matter what.”


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