Hellmouth Ascendant Trilogy Book 1 Dusk: Chapter 19 Deadlands
by Deacon Rayne
Chapter 19
Deadlands


“Well, what did we LEARN from this little experience?” a furious Slayer shrilly asked a hung over vampire some several hours later. Angel flinched,
“Getting into drinking bouts with Romany chieftains can be hazardous to your health even if you’re dead,” he replied miserably, flinching at Buffy’s voice. Dusk was trying hard not to burst into laughter as he regarded the suffering vampire. Buffy sighed and turned to Spike, who looked even worse and seemed to be having difficulty staying upright.
“Was this YOUR idea?” she demanded. Spike groaned and shook his head, which caused him to groan more as he put his hands to his temples,
“No, blame it all on that thrice-damned gypsy,” he growled, “Who would’ve thought one man could put two vampires under the table?” he asked pathetically.
Dusk’s and Willow’s hands both went up. Spike glared at them,
“Sod off!” he snarled. Angel flinched,
“Please Spike, not so loud,” he beseeched the other vampire. Dusk chuckled,
“Look at it this way, Spike, remember all those poor idiots you did in with a railroad spike to the noggin? Consider this karmic payback,” he commented grinning. Spike muttered something obscene as Buffy threw her hands up in the air, exasperated.
“Well, that’s great, we’re about to pull a raid on a very nasty and unpleasant group of vampires and look at you,” she gestured to Angel, contemptuously, “You look like your ready to fall over with the slightest application of a stiff breeze!” she finished getting into his face. Angel flinched and hanged his head,
“Ah, good morning, my pasty friends!” DeGanon boomed, entering the room, not the slightest bit incapacitated. Both Angel and Spike slipped into their game faces as they snarled at him, and then both grabbed their heads in pain from the effort, their faces shifting back to normal. DeGanon grinned and handed Angel a cup of something thick and foul smelling. Angel took it and frowned down at it,
“What is this stuff?” he asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste. DeGanon grinned.
“Old gypsy recipe, instant cure for a man suffering from overindulgence. You did not think I would allow you to incapacitate yourself, on the eve of such a dangerous mission did you?” he asked grinned. Angel sniffed the foul-smelling brew before handing it back to DeGanon,
“I don’t think I can drink that,” he told him hastily. DeGanon’s grin broadened,
“Of course not, my friend, you will need assistance yes? Say no more,” DeGanon turned to Buffy, “If you wouldn’t mind?” Buffy nodded and reached out and grabbed a hold of Angel’s ear. He opened his mouth in protest,
“Ow! Buffy what are you-?” and before he could finish DeGanon grabbed his face in a meaty hand, forced his open mouth wider and pour the entire cupful of sludge down Angel’s throat. Angel thrashed and struggled, trying to spit out the horrid substance, but DeGanon clamped a hand over his mouth, forcing the vampire to swallow. He did so, and doubled over at the waist gagging as the gypsy and Buffy released him. He stumbled away from the pair choking and spitting the residue out of his mouth.
“Oh God, what IS that stuff?” he gasped. DeGanon grinned,
“It is old secret recipe. And it has become old, because its contents have stayed a secret, my young friend.” Angel just gagged and spat some more, though his head was clearing in a hurry. He straightened and inhaled deeply, his eyes wide and alert. He turned to DeGanon,
“That’s…amazing,” he stated in awe. DeGanon chuckled,
“Gypsy proverb: the worse medicine tastes, the better it is for you,” he gestured to the empty mug, “This brew ought to raise the dead, eh?” he asked grinning. Angel just nodded his head, amazed that such actions no longer caused him pain. Buffy was trying hard to be stern, but it wasn’t working well. She patted Angel’s face,
“Are we all better now?” she asked. Angel smiled slightly and nodded. Buffy nodded,
“Good,” she turned to Spike and placed a kiss on his cheek,
“You get more kisses…AFTER you’ve brushed your teeth. Bleh!” she commented wryly. She turned to face the group as Spike placed his hand over his mouth, breathing out and inhaling. His eyes widened and he nearly swooned at the overwhelming stench.
“Are you two ready?” Buffy asked. Dusk cleared his throat,
“Not to be a sexist git. But,” he turned to Willow, “Can’t you just teach me or Buffy the spell? I really am not happy with the idea of you coming down into this sixth circle of Hell or whatever it is,” Willow smiled and stroked his face,
“It’s not sexist, Alec, a tad chauvinistic maybe, but in a sweet way,” she kissed him gently, relieved that HER man did not smell like a distillery. “But I’ve fought with you guys before, and whether or not these dead guys are bad news, I’m still a part of the Scooby gang, I’m Velma, I have to participate,” she finished, smiling cheekily. Dusk grinned and hugged,
“You’re a brave woman,” he whispered, kissing her head. She smiled and gave him a squeeze before pulling away. Dusk frowned,
“Wait a minute, if you’re Velma, then who’s Daphne?” he asked.
“Cordelia” Buffy, Willow, and Angel cried out in unison, causing Spike to wince in pain.
Dusk chuckled and stared up at the sewer exit, “So from here, where do we go?” he asked the gypsy.
“The graveyard you seek is on the other side of the river. You will have to travel above ground. Below ground, there is no passage that does not take you through the lands of the Khulghaani,” Dusk grimaced; he didn’t relish the idea of dealing with more of the bald monstrosities anymore than anyone else present did.
“Okay, over the river it is,” he affirmed nodding then he looked around frowning, “Say, where is everyone else? I thought they’d be here to see us off,” DeGanon shook his head,
“Alas, this is not so. Many of them are resting, those that are not are assisting with the rebuilding of our defenses and tending to the wounded,” he smiled slightly, “The youngest of your coterie, Dawn, had to be restrained physically from joining us this morning,” he chuckled and gestured to Dusk, “Do you inspire such fierce loyalty in all women you encounter?”
“Yes,” Willow replied, wrapping her arms around her man. He smiled and stroked her hands affectionately. DeGanon laughed and placed his hand on Dusk’s shoulders,
“When you return my friend, you must reveal to me your secret,” Dusk chuckled and turned to the group,
“Are we all ready to go then?” Buffy nodded,
“Yup,” then she frowned and held up a finger, “One second,” digging through her bag, she rummaged around, “I know it’s in here somewh- A-ha!” she cried triumphantly, removing a gnarled wooden stake from the bag. Willow’s eyes widened in recognition,
“That’s…” she pointed at the stake.
“Mr. Pointy,” Buffy finished. She smiled, stroking the smooth wood. Dusk frowned in puzzlement,
“ ‘Mr. Pointy?’” he asked. Buffy nodded,
“It belonged to Kendra, the slayer that came before Faith,” she smiled sadly, “It’s all I have to remember her by,” she confided. Spike coughed and looked down uncomfortable, remembering that it was his girlfriend at the time that had ended the young girls life. Buffy turned to Willow,
“I went with Xander to go get it from the camper when he went to go pay for more time,” she shrugged and grinned, “ ‘Don’t leave home without it’,” she quipped, making a staking motion with the lethal looking instrument. Willow laughed quietly and Dusk smiled,
“All right then, weapons in hand, let’s go make life miserable for some vampires,” he held out his hand to his sister, she slapped it,
“I say we go teach those guys everything they’ve ever wanted to know about being really, really dead,” she replied wryly. Spike nodded,
“That’s my girl,” he grinned then winced, “Ow,” he moaned. Buffy patted him on the head.
“Be back soon lover,” she smiled as he nodded,
“Good luck pet,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. She smiled and stroked his face before turning to the group. Dusk was already climbing up the ladder,
“Let’s do it,” she told them, her face set in determination. DeGanon grinned and waved as they left the sewer.
“God be with you!” he cried. Spike glared at him,
“While you’re offering prayers, mate, could you offer one to me? A prayer for the pain to end?” DeGanon laughed and led the seething vampire away.

They made it across the river without incident and quickly found the graveyard.
It was, unfortunately, not hard to miss.
A thin layer of mist wrapped around crumbling, moss-covered tombstones. Hideous stone statues half-sunk into the ground tilted crazily. The whole scene was dominated by a huge, ominous looking tree.
“Okay, this is about as scary as graveyards get,” Willow said nervously. Buffy was inclined to agree. From the first step upon the spongy, marsh-like ground, there was a palpable sense of evil and decay. She shivered in the cold night air,
“No dang nabbit, you flea-bitten mongrel, you’re supposed to bring the stick back, not bury it!” a cantankerous voice cried out. The gang whirled around ready to confront…
…An old man in a New York Yankees baseball cap and an I LOVE NY sweatshirt casually leaning against a mausoleum, throwing sticks to a golden retriever.
“Now, listen here!” the old man leveled a gnarled finger, “I throw the stick and YOU fetch it? Understand?” the dog barked as the old man frowned,
“Eh? Guests you say?” he asked querulously. He turned and peered up at the group,
“Oh, hullo,” the old man smiled getting to his feet.
“Hi,” Buffy replied a little uncertainly, there was something…odd about the befuddled old man. The man smiled at them,
“Nasty bit of night, ain’t it?” he sighed, “Course it’s winter in San Francisco, what can you expect?” Dusk frowned,
“Uh…we’re in New York,” he informed the older man. The man frowned and looked around,
“Eh? New York you say,” he shook his head, “Well, that would explain why I saw the statue of liberty at lunch today,” he grinned, “I went to this little deli on the corner here,” he gestured, “had this cold lamb sandwich with just a dab of Coleman’s mustard,” he beamed at them and licked his lips, rubbing his stomach, “Mmm…very good. Best sandwiches in town,” Buffy finally found her voice,
“Umm…who are you?” she asked. The old man frowned,
“I’m…I’m…” he scratched his head which was dominated by a large, badly battered top hat. The dog barked and the man turned to face him,
“Well, what do YOU want already?” he demanded of the dog. The dog barked again and raised a paw. The old man felt his hat and smiled,
“That’s right!” he cried. He turned and stuck out a hand, “Olive Seuss,” he frowned and retracted the hand, “No, wait that’s not right,” he beamed and stuck his hand out again, “Olive loaf! No, that’s not it,” he frowned again and pulled his hand back again. The dog barked and the old man brightened, “That’s right,” he looked up and beamed at the three, who were now regarding the crazed man with a little wariness, “Oliver Seuss!” he stuck his hand out a third time, “At your service. Huzzah.” He grinned, a mouthful of perfectly white teeth, Buffy noticed as she tentatively took his hand. The skin was warm and surprisingly smooth. He had brilliant blue eyes which were deeply lined. ‘Laugh lines’ her mother had called them once. There was something youthful in those eyes. She couldn’t help but smile at the old man’s antics.
“Buffy. Buffy Summers,” she introduced herself. Oliver smiled and gave her hand a firm shake before releasing it. Buffy gestured behind her, “And this is Dusk, Angel and Willow,” the three nodded in turn as the old man scrutinized them.
“Bunny, Dust, Angelina, and Wilma. My, what odd names!” he exclaimed in surprise, shaking his head, which was a snowy white underneath the hat, “Well kids today, one minute it’s ballroom dancing and plays, the next it’s disco,” the dog barked and Oliver gestured to the golden retriever.
“This here is Mikey,” he smiled at them. The dog barked again and Oliver turned around, scowling at it.
“Well, out with it!” he demanded of the dog, impatiently. The dog barked once more and the old man rolled his eyes and, bending over to pick up a stick tossed it over the dog’s head.
“Fetch, ya flea-bitten mongrel!” the old man cried. The dog barked at him, sounding almost indignant at being addressed so, before turning tail and chasing the stick. “Pain-in-the-butt dog,” Oliver muttered. Angel stepped forward,
“Sir, you can’t stay here, it isn’t safe,” he warned him. Oliver looked up at him,
“What’s that my boy? Not safe?” his eyes suddenly widened in terror as he gripped the younger mans arms, “Jumping Jehosophat! Have the Reds pushed the button? Are they invading? Are they going to drop the big one?” Suddenly, the old man leapt onto a stone coffin, in a surprisingly agile maneuver for one so old. He thrust his chest out, fist in the air; “We’ll fight to last man, by gumb! Better dead than green!” he frowned and looked down, “or was it blue?” he shook his head, muttering to himself. Willow leaned over to address Buffy,
“Uh…Buffy? Maybe it’s not in my place to judge, but I don’t think this guy’s playing with a full deck,” she whispered quietly. The old man whirled around,
“That reminds me, I have a great card trick to show you!” he cried excitedly. He hopped off the crypt and produced a deck of cards. “That’ll be a donation of one penny please. Shiny is preferable,” Dusk frowned and reached into his coat,
“Well listen I got a dollar here…” the old man cut him off with an impatient snort.
“A penny please. Shiny.” He scowled at Dusk who was, for some reason, was humbled by the man’s reproving stare.
“Here,” Angel huffed, handing him a penny. The old man snatched it up and peered at it, squinting. He breathed on it and buffed it with his sleeve, trying to catch the moonlight with it.
“Yeah. Yeah,” he chuckled to himself and looked up at Angel gesturing with the penny, “ ‘1853’ Good year lad!” he grinned and put the penny in his sweatshirt pocket before fanning out the cards before the group, who at that moment were wondering just what in the world they were doing playing card games with a crazy old man in the middle of a graveyard.
“Pick a card, any card,” he beamed at them. Dusk tentatively took a card from the fanned-out deck. The old man gestured wildly to him,
“Okay, okay, now DON’T tell what it is, okay? Whatever you do, do NOT tell me what it is, got it?” he demanded, his bushy eyebrows meeting in a ‘v’ over his eyes. Dusk nodded as the old man put a hand to his head, concentrating.
“Ommmmm…” he began to chant, “A, E, I, O, U, and some-times Y…” he continued. Finally he snapped his fingers.
“Got it!” he cried, “Your card is the Ten of Diamonds!” he declared proudly. Dusk looked up over the eight of spades and shook his head; the old man’s face fell, “No? I could have sworn that was it, oh well,” he shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention to a dog carrying a stick. Unlike the other, who had been a golden retriever, this one was a beautiful greyhound.
“Good boy, Mikey!” Oliver cried, crouching down and patting the dog on the head approvingly. Buffy frowned,
“Wait a second, wasn’t that a…?” she frowned, losing her train of thought. Oliver looked up at her,
“Eh? What’s that, little lady? Afraid I can’t hear so well, hearing’s going you know?” Buffy shook her head to clear it.
“Look, never mind, it isn’t safe for you to be here, Oliver, you have to go,” she told him firmly. The old man frowned unhappily,
“I do?” he asked petulantly, scratching his head, He sighed and shrugged, “Well, okay, Bunny, if you say so,” he whistled for the dog who rushed over to him, “Come on Mikey! We need to go now,” he turned back to Buffy and beamed at her, “It was very nice meeting you, Bunny. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime?” Buffy just nodded, trying to get rid of him,
“Sure Oliver, whatever you say,” he smiled cheerfully at the others.
“Goodbye Dust, Wilma, Angelina!” he frowned and leaned forward to speak to Angel, “Just between you and me, young man, I’d have a long talk to my parents about that name of yours. Boy with a name like that is just asking for trouble on the playground,” he confided to the vampire, winking, he waved a hand, “Well, you do what you think is best, Angelina,” he smiled at the dumbfounded vampire, patting his hand reassuringly before heading off.
“Goodbye, nice meeting you all!” he waved before walking out of the graveyard and turned the street corner. Dusk suddenly started,
“Hey wait a minute!” he yelled, jumping over a fence, “You forgot your...” he turned the corner and skidded to a halt,
The old man had vanished.
“…Card.” He finished, puzzled. He looked around, scanning the deserted street but there was no sign of the old man. Sighing, he looked at the card and stopped. The card that had been the eight of spades was now a joker card emblazoned with a cheery laughing face that bore a slight resemblance to the old man. Dusk shook his head and returned to the others.

“So where’s this entrance?” Dusk asked when he rejoined the others. Buffy, Willow and Angel were searching the mausoleums looking for some kind of underground access. They were coming up dry,
“Nada,” Willow declared, exiting from a mausoleum, “Though I did see a rat the size of a small car,” she confided.
Buffy shook her head in frustration, “It just doesn’t make any sense,” she growled, “DeGanon said the entrance to the Deadlands was here,”
“I believe him,” Angel put forth dryly, looking at a particularly gruesome statue, covered in insects. Willow made a face,
“Uh…yuck,” she blanched. Dusk walked over to her and wrapped a comforting arm around her, which she was quick to accept,
“Could be worse Luv, could be frogs,” he quipped wryly and glared at him,
“Don’t mock my frog fear,” she warned direly. Dusk chuckled and kissed her head,
“What about that spell?” he asked suddenly. Willow’s eyes widened,
“That’s right!” she cried, “I forgot I had it! Buffy!” she yelled. The slayer poked her head out of another crypt, frowning at the witch, “Spell!” Willow replied. Buffy nodded and walked towards her. Willow dug out the sheet of paper with the spell on it and began to read,
“ ‘Forces of darkness and things unseen, hear our plea. Forces of light, make the hidden things seen!” she finished. There was a loud ‘Bing’! Then everything was quiet. A few moments passed then a loud ‘bong!’ Willow giggled,
“It sounds like my doorbell,” she grinned. Angel gestured,
“It came from over here,” he told them, gathering his coat around him he stalked off towards the sound, Buffy, Dusk and Willow following. He stopped before the massive tree,
“This is where the response came from,” He turned to Willow, “It’s like sonar, you emit a sound burst, the sound carries and reflects off the Everstone, sending a different pitch back to you,” Willow favored him with a condescending smile,
“I DO know how sonar works, Mr. ‘Tall dark and broody’,” she replied wryly. If Angel could have blushed, he would have.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. Dusk chuckled, as he looked the tree over.
“I don’t see any kind of door,” he began to take a step forward when Buffy slammed a restraining arm against his chest. He stumbled back away from the tree, throwing his sister a confused look,
“Uh…sis?” he asked. Buffy shushed him and picked up a rock. Carefully she tossed it onto the wet ground before the tree. The ground began to shift and the earth slowly swallowed up the rock. Dusk’s eyes widened,
“That looks…unpleasant,” he commented dryly. Willow nodded her head,
“Just slightly,” she replied, turning an amazed look to Buffy, “How did you know?” she asked. Buffy gestured,
“No snow or leaves,” she gestured to the earth around the tree, “all the vegetation around the tree is all brown and nasty,” Dusk frowned,
“If all the vegetation is dead around the tree, how can that tree still be standing?” he asked. Buffy shook her head,
“I got a hunch,” she turned to her brother, “Dusk, a little long-distance log splitting please?” Dusk frowned but nodded, his eyes becoming pools of darkness, he reared back his arm and lashed out with a darkness tendril. To their amazement, the instant the tendril touched the wood, it split open, spilling forth maggots and rotted vegetation. Willow made a face,
“Never seen a tree do THAT before,” she commented. Dusk cleared away the muck and slime with the tendril before dissipating it, not really eager to absorb the grime-encrusted tendril back under his skin. He craned his neck and peered into the tree,
“It’s partially hollow,” he told them, “There’s a really big hole in the center, looks like it leads straight down beneath the ground,” he turned to the group, his eyes fading back to their normal shade, “I’d say this is our entrance,” Angel frowned,
“So how do we get to it?” he asked.
“Leave that to me,” Buffy called out, coming up from behind them with a huge stone slab hoisted over her head. With a grunt, she threw the flat slab onto the quicksand-like ground. The ground oozed and flowed, slowly beginning to envelop the stone. She gestured,
“Come on, quickly, before the sludge that time forgot swallows it up,” Dusk leapt onto the sinking stone slab and perched gingerly on the edge of the entrance in the tree. Willow and Angel followed and Buffy had to leap, nearly not making it as Angel dove forward, catching her arms just as the last of the stone disappeared under the ground.
“I’ve got you,” he gritted through his teeth, hoisting her, she just nodded, keeping her legs bent so as not to come in contact with the noisome sludge. Carefully, he folded her up into his arms. She sighed in relief, sagging against him. He gently wrapped an arm around her. For a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, as she rested her head against his chest, his arms around her.
“Guys?” Dusk interrupted. Buffy and Angel sprang apart quickly. He gestured to the gaping hole in the center of the hollow tree. Willow peered down into it,
“How do we get down there?” she asked. Dusk smiled slightly,
“I’ve got this one covered.” Closing his eyes, he focused…and slowly, the shadows in the huge tree coalesced and swirled around the room. Dusk opened his eyes, once more pools of darkness and pointed to the gaping hole. The shadows flowed and swirled around the mouth of the pit, before forming a solid ring of darkness around the hole. Slowly darkness began to fill the ring and in moments, the ring became a disk of absolute darkness. Dusk lowered his arms and walked forward, stepping onto the makeshift platform; he turned, his eyes still dark,
“We need to get going, we don’t know how deep this goes and I don’t know how long I can keep the darkness cohesive,” he told them. They nodded, and, only with slight reluctance, stepped onto the disk. Buffy and Willow activated flashlights as the platform began to slowly descend into the bowels of the tree.
The darkness seemed to be choking, claustrophobic. Buffy and Willow were having trouble breathing the stale air, Angel didn’t have to breathe and Dusk didn’t seem to notice, too wrapped up in keeping them all from plummeting to their deaths.
“This is like the tree-house from Hell,” Willow commented dryly, then shuddering as the beam from her flashlight caught a large snake winding its way slowly up the inside of the tree, not more that six inches from her face. She whimpered slightly and moved closer to Dusk. Buffy leaned forward to peer at a large white stone, she shifted slightly and the stone fell backwards into her hands. She caught it and was nose to nose with a grinning skull. With a start, she dropped it; it fell from her hands and thudded onto the disk. She quickly pushed it off the platform with the tip of her foot, it tumbled end over end to disappear from sight. With a ragged sigh, she kept her eyes firmly on her feet.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the disk exited the tree into a vast, sand-filled cavern. Buffy looked up and around at the vast cave. The walls were made of brownish-blackish sand and seemed to curve upwards towards the ceiling, which was also made up of the strange sand, except for various tree roots, like the one they had exited. They drifted about thirty feet down before finally touching the ground. Buffy tested the sand with her foot, she sank slightly, but not dangerously and she leapt off the disk on to the thick sand. Willow and Angel followed and Dusk, dispelling the darkness disk joined them. He exhaled hard,
“That wasn’t easy,” he sighed wearily. They nodded and continued to pan around with flashlights, taking in the chamber. Willow whistled softly,
“This place is like a giant ant nest,” she observed. Buffy turned to her,
“Will, ping the stone again,” she whispered. Willow looked back at her,
“Huh? Oh right,” closing her eyes, she chanted the incantation, the first ping sounded off, soon followed by the second, somewhere behind them. Willow gestured with her flashlight,
“This way,” she whispered. Buffy and Dusk quickly flanked her, Angel guarding the rear, scanning the darkness with his vampire eyes. They walked a short distance and came upon a large wall with a series of small crawlspaces. Willow shined her light down the small holes,
“Dead end,” she reported. Angel kneeled down by one of them and inhaled,
“This one leads somewhere, I can smell something coming from it,” he told them quietly. Buffy crouched down and shined her light down the narrow tunnel, her light shined all the way through and she thought she could see another room in the distance. Buffy inhaled, a musty dry odor.
“I’ve smelled something like that before,” she murmured. Angel nodded,
“The Master’s domain, it’s the smell of death, ancient death,” he replied. Willow swallowed,
“Couldn’t it smell like potpourri or cinnamon or something nummy?” she asked forlornly. Dusk smiled and kneeled down by the entrance.
“Well, it looks like we crawl,” he peered into the dark, his eyes still rolling pools of night, “tunnel goes straight for about thirty meters, then seems to slant downwards sharply,” he looked back up at them. “Should be fun,” he commented wryly. Getting down on his stomach, he wedged himself into the tight cubbyhole and began to crawl. Willow followed, then Buffy and Angel.
“I hate this,” Buffy muttered before entering. Angel smiled,
“Sacred duty can be a real pain,” he told her wryly. She snorted in agreement and began to crawl into the tight space, Angel following.
They made it about twenty meters when they heard it: a soft scribbling sound, coming from inside the narrow walls. Dusk turned his head slightly, his nose brushing up against the wall of the narrow crawlspace. Their breath rasped loudly in the tight space sounding like death rattles. The only light coming from Willow’s flashlight, which was being nudged along by the witches nose, inch by inch, she frowned listening,
“Hey, what is that?” she asked. Buffy tried to shake her head, but didn’t have the room to,
“Beats me, I’m not the one who loiters underground if she can help it,” she cast her to her left, “Angel?” she asked. His voice came up from behind her,
“Sounds familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it,” he listened in the dark, as the scribbling sound got louder. It sounded not like one sound, but millions upon millions of tiny sounds. His eyes widened in fear,
“MOVE!” he yelled. Dusk, who didn’t bother asking, began crawling as fast as he could, Willow and Buffy following.
“What? What is it?” she had to yell to be heard over the growing chittering din.
“Keep going!” Angel yelled, “Don’t stop!” Dusk continued to crawl he reached the end of the crawlspace, where it slanted down at a forty-five degree angle. Swinging his legs down over the hole, he spun around to look…and immediately went deathly pale.
A steady rolling black mass of…something was pursuing them voraciously, chittering madly. He reached out and grabbed Willow dragging her towards the edge, she turned and looked back,
“Beetles!” she cried out in recognition. Buffy followed and Angel, flipped over onto his back as the swarm of insects advanced on them. Dusk turned to Buffy,
“Down!” he yelled. She looked down,
“We don’t know what’s down there!” she cried.
“Guys!” Angel cried, from his vantage point upon his back he was getting an especially good view of the swarming ravenous insects.
“Anywhere’s better than here!” Dusk retorted. Buffy nodded, and crossing her arms slid down the steep embankment. Dusk grabbed Willow and dumped her down the hole. Scrabbling, Angel retreated from the swarm and fell backwards down the shaft. Dusk crossed his arms, tucked his chin into his chest, and slide down. He looked up to see the beetle swarm boiling over the edge and begin to fall down upon him like rain. Yelling in terror, Dusk threw his arms up and with a humming CRACK a shield of darkness to manifested over his arms, like an umbrella against the swarm of insects. They piled up on the shield as Dusk continued to rocket down the tunnel. Finally he emerged from the tunnel into freefall and throwing his arms out, his coat exploded into a great wave of darkness. Heaving his arms, he came out from under the downpour of insects gliding away to his left. Looking down he saw the swarm of creatures raining down upon the ground beneath him to spread out in all directions, skittering away into the darkness. Looking around frantically, he sighed in relief as he saw Buffy, Willow and Angel perched on a rock ledge in the wall. Adjusting his cloak he glided over to them. Buffy and Willow reached out to pull him in as the insects continued to gush like a black flood out of the ceiling to their right. Dusk turned, his coat shrinking back to its normal size. Finally the insect storm began to slow then stop as the last creature skittered away into the dark. The four of them sagged against the stone wall in relief. Willow reaching out to hug Dusk tightly,
“I don’t ever, ever want to do that again,” she whispered hoarsely. Dusk just nodded and turned to Angel,
“You hear something like that before?” he asked. Angel nodded,
“I was once on a ship that had a serious termite problem. During the day, you could hear them chewing through the hull,” he sighed. “Of course, I wasn’t in a one foot by one foot shaft at the time being chased by millions of them,” Buffy smiled, shakily,
“Well, sacred duty can be a pain,” she reiterated his words to him. He snorted gently and looked around,
“Whole place smells like death,” he muttered. Buffy nodded,
“Not exactly Holiday Inn material,” she replied. Carefully, she began to crawl down the stone embankment to the sandy floor below. Angel caught her hand,
“Don’t,” he warned her. She frowned,
“Why not?” she asked. Angel gestured to the sandy floor,
“Old vampire trick, sleep in the earth,” he gestured to the vast sandy plain that seemed to stretch on forever, “A lot of vampires could fit in there,” he told her grimly. Buffy nodded and climbed back onto the rock embankment.
“Okay, so how do we do it? She asked. Angel looked around and pointed,
“This ledge seems to follow the wall all the way to the end of the cavern,” he turned to Willow. “Can you ping the stone again?” he asked. She nodded and repeated the spell, this time; the time between the two sounds was only seconds apart.
“We must be close,” she whispered, gesturing down the cavern, “This way,” Carefully, their backs against the sandy wall, they sidestepped along the ledge, careful not to dislodge any stones off the rocky catwalk.
“You know,” Buffy chimed in, “Not to toss a fly into your logic ointment, Angel, but wouldn’t the torrential downpour of insects have already woken up anyone snoozing in the ground?” Angel shook his head,
“I doubt it. Vampires that sleep in the ground learn to ignore sounds like that. It’s steady, regular sounds like footsteps that tend to get your attention,” he replied. Dusk, not taking his eyes off his footing on the ledge turned his head slightly to the vampire,
“You, uh…speaking from experience?” he asked.
“No,” Angel replied, “Just speculation,” Dusk nodded.
“Oh. Okay,” sighing he continued to sidestep along the narrow ledge. Willow leaned forward,
“Hey guys, I think I see the-” And with a snarl, a rotted corpse burst from the wall behind Willow, and tackled her to the sandy floor below.
“Willow!” Dusk cried, leaping from the ledge and landing before the zombie. It looked up and snarled at him, its face contorted in bestial rage. Dusk lashed out with a tendril, severing its head and sending it rolling away. The zombie fell dead upon Willow. Dusk raced over and helped her to her feet,
“Are you all right?” he asked rapidly. She nodded her head,
“Aside from being terrified out of my head, yes fine, thank you. How are you?” Dusk started to smile when his eyes fell on a patch of earth beginning to shift just above Buffy’s head.
“Buffy, Angel, DOWN!” he cried. They leapt off the ledge just as another zombie came bursting out of the wall above them. It landed in front of Buffy who rolled forward, and lashed out with her foot, catching the corpse behind the knee. The leg snapped off like brittle bone, the creature tumbled down. Buffy brought her foot up and then down in a vicious axe kick to the zombies head. There was a loud crunch and the creature lay still. Angel gestured to the floor,
“We got company!” he yelled and pointed. They all turned to look as clawed hands began working their way out of the ground. Zombie after zombie rose from the soft earth, snarling quietly.
“Okay, these odds suck,” Dusk commented. Grabbing Willow’s hand he turned to the others, “Run!” he yelled. Buffy and Angel joined them as they ran, dodging newly awakened zombies.
“Did I ever tell you…how much…I hated those…old zombie movies?” Buffy gasped as she ran. Angel shook her head,
“They never…bothered me,” he replied. Buffy shook her head,
“Well, than you just weren’t…paying attention,” she replied. He grinned and with a cry suddenly dropped from sight. Buffy stopped in her tracks,
“ANGEL!” she cried out. Angel looked down to see a vampire in brown ascetic robes rise from the ground before him. Angel leapt to his feet and lashed out with a fist, the vampire batted it aside and responded with a brutal punch, knocking Angel to the ground. Buffy moved to help, and fell over. Whirling onto her back, she gasped in horror as two pairs of hands grasping her ankles quickly became two zombies, holding her with terrifying strength, one of them placed an icy hand on her shin and suddenly a wash of paralyzing numbness engulfed her body. She fell limply to the ground, barely able to move her head as the zombies picked her up like a rag doll She looked up past Angel to see Dusk and Willow surrounded by zombies, his darkness tendrils were cracking like whips, severing heads where they came in contact with the shambling horde.
But they were surrounded and wouldn’t last much longer. Buffy moaned in fright as she turned her eyes back to Angel who was still fighting the vampire. Suddenly the vampire lashed out and placed a hand on Angel’s chest,
“Mortuus!” the vampire cried. There was a flash of green light and Angel howled in pain, falling to the ground, clutching his chest.
Buffy tried to call out again, but could only moan. Angel looked down disbelievingly at his chest, the skin there had become dark gray and corpselike and it burned like nothing he’d ever felt before. Wheezing he rolled over onto his back. The vampire looked down at him smugly before turning to the zombies.
“Enough!” he commanded. The zombies attacking Dusk and Willow ceased and stood silently. The vampire gestured to the fallen Angel and the paralyzed Buffy. Dusk saw this and sighed, he knew when he was beaten. Retracting his tendrils, he wrapped an arm around Willow protectively. The vampire smiled,
“Take them to the cells. Let them have their last few living moments spent in each others company,” he turned to Buffy and smiled thinly, “Take her to Mercurio,” he commanded. The zombies surrounded Willow and Dusk, although they did not separate them and herded them out of the room. Another pair of zombies picked up the moaning Angel and dragged him away.
“Angel…”Buffy managed to whisper. The vampire turned back to her and smiled,
“Not for much longer,” he replied smugly. He gestured and the zombies carried her away.


Buffy was brought to a squat clay structure. Two zombies stood guard, as she approached, they wordlessly pushed a rotting wooden door open. The zombies dragged her into the room, and closed the door behind them. Buffy was staring to get some feeling back in her body as the zombies dumped her limply into an oversized plush chair opposite a roaring fire. She looked around the room, taking in her surroundings. The room was dark, but clean, the only light coming from the crackling fireplace. Shadows danced on the walls as some sort of sweet smell hung in the air. The door opposite her opened and a shadowy figure entered. He was concealed by the flickering darkness in the room as the zombies bowed in reverence. One of the zombies handed him Mr. Pointy then rejoined his partner.
“Leave us,” a dry voice rasped. The zombies bowed once more and left the room, leaving Buffy alone with the man.
“Where are my friends?” she rasped, her mouth still numb. The shadowy figure shifted slightly to regard her,’
“The man and woman have been buried,” he informed her, “After the ritual tonight is completed, they will be transformed into my servants,” there was a pause and Buffy could imagine the evil creature smiling, “They will be powerful weapons in my army,” he mused.
“You bastard!” Buffy hissed through clenched teeth. There was a dry chuckle, rasping with decay.
“Perhaps,” the shadow shrugged, “As for the vampire, he is beyond salvation,” Buffy looked up suddenly,
“What do you mean?” she demanded. The creature began to step into the light,
“The effects of the grave rot are debilitating and painfully fatal,” he stepped fully into the light and Buffy gasped in horror.
What had once been a vampire was now a rotted shell, the skin on his face had melted off, making it looking like nothing more than a horrific mask, what remained hung like tattered shreds from his yellow skull. His nose had rotted off and the lips as well, revealing sharp teeth. His skin was yellow and gray and his eyes a milky white. Black clumps of hair stuck out in patches on his skull. The vampire put a skeletal hand on his chest and bowed,
“As you can fully see,” he finished, smiling grotesquely.
“What are you?” Buffy breathed. The creature rasped with laughter,
“Not all vampires are as blessed as your Angel. The price for knowledge of the grave can be high indeed,” he replied, his teeth grinding against each other in a sound that turned Buffy’s stomach.
“Mercurio,” she stated simply. The decayed vampire bowed again,
“In the flesh…or what’s left of it,” he smiled gruesomely.
“How…?” she asked in morbid curiosity. Mercurio cocked his head to the side, with a cracking of vertebrae,
“The powers that I wield, that my followers wield, it takes its toll on the body,” he explained, sitting down opposite her, “Your friend Angel, has felt the power, I imagine he’s not feeling well at all at this point,” he commented dryly, grinning a skull’s grin. He turned his attention to the stake in his hand, “This,” he gestured, “will be quite useful,” he assured her sinisterly. Buffy snorted, getting back some of her bravado,
“Why? You gonna give it back to me and let me turn you into instant soup-mix?” she retorted. Mercurio shook his near-fleshless skull,
“Not quite,” he closed his eyes slightly and a pair of zombies entered the room.
“Take her to the cell and keep her there until the ritual,” he instructed. The zombies nodded mutely and grabbed the slayer, roughly yanking her to her feet,
“I’ll be back for you, you great walking morgue!” Buffy yelled at him, “Count on it!” Mercurio smiled,
“Oh, I’m sure,” he replied quietly, stroking the stake covetously.

The zombies heaved Buffy into a cage made of bones and closed the door. She threw herself against the bars, but they held sturdy.
“Buffy?” a weak voice gasped. Buffy whirled around. Angel was lying in a cot facing away fro her.
“Angel!” she rushed to his side, weakly he tried to push her away,
“Don’t come any closer,” he warned. Ignoring his protests, he turned her towards him…and nearly died.
Angel’s face and body were aging rapidly. His skin had turned gray, his face wrinkled and stained with pockmarks, the skin around his face hung on his bones like wet paper. The brown of his eyes had faded, obscured by cataracts. He coughed and wheezed.
“Buffy…are you...?” He couldn’t finish and sagged against the bars. Buffy placed a hand over his eyes, trying not to notice the oozing sores leaking from his brow.
“Oh God, Angel,” she whispered, stripping off her coat and wrapping it around him. He coughed again and took her hand in his own wasted hand,
“I’m dying,” he whispered hoarsely sounding almost amused at the idea, Buffy shook her head through tears,
“You’re not dying! Nobody’s dying! I’m going to find Dusk and Willow and get you cured and we are getting out of here!” she told him fervently. Angel’s eyelids fluttered, his eyes rolled back into his head. Buffy roared and lashed out against the bars,
“What the hell did you DO to him?!” she raged. A vampire in brown robes smiled slightly,
“The powers of death have robbed him of his immortality,” he gestured to the decrepit Angel, “That is his body catching up with him for his centuries' unnatural youth,” the vampire smiled smugly. Buffy narrowed her eyes in hate,
“I’m going to get out of here, and I’m going to kill all of you,” she whispered, her voice lethal. The vampire smirked and gestured to two zombies. The shambled towards the cell door and unlocked it.
“I sincerely doubt that,” the vampire commented as Buffy was dragged out of the cell. Angel feebly reached after her and collapsed. Buffy shot an anguished look over her shoulder at her dying compatriot before being dragged to a large circle of fire. The zombies fastened her to a rack made of skeletons and left her there to wrestle against the restraints, which were skeletal hands. Mercurio walked towards her, smiling, holding Mr. Pointy in his skeletal hands,
“Good evening, Slayer,” he rasped, “I trust you have been made comfortable?” he asked mockingly. Buffy rolled her eyes,
“Question, Skeletor. Well actually two: One, does that whole ‘decomposing walking bone heap’ look go over well with the ladies and two, why do all villains feel the need to ask stupid questions?” she snarled. Mercurio smiled gruesomely,
“You are, of course, correct, I care little for your comfort” he bowed and turned to the assembled vampires. “Tonight, you will witness my transcendence,” he held up the stake, “with this,” he smiled. Buffy snorted,
“What are you going to do, stake yourself into a higher consciousness?” she asked sarcastically. Mercurio favored her with patronizing smile,
“Watch and learn, slayer,” he smiled and walked over to her, and with one quick movement, impaled the stake through her shoulder. She bit her lip and tried not to cry out as he slowly twisted the stake in the wound, causing blood to dribble out of her shoulder. With a snarl, he ripped the stake out of her, causing her to gasp in pain. He leered covetously at the dripping stake, before turning to her,
“The blood is the life, yes?” he put the portion of his skull that had once housed his nose to the gory stake and inhaled deeply, “But this weapon, it reeks of death, of young life cut short,” he leered at her, “It will be perfect,”
“It’s really…not in your color,” Buffy bit out. Mercurio just grinned and turned to a large plate on a bone pedestal. Placing the gory stake in the center, he brought his fingernails under a rotted tatter of skin on his cheek and slowly began to peel it back. Buffy felt sick as the rotted vampire finished and wrapped the strip of dead flesh around the stake. Gesturing to a set of torches, they burst to life as he began to chant, the acolytes humming mantra-like,
“Powers of death, hear me, your most impious servant,” he raised his hands over his head and brought them down slowly, fanning them over the plate, which had begin to sizzle for no reason, “Take this offering, of blood and flesh, call forth thy most polluted death. Phantasm most profane,” he chanted. Bringing a finger to his robes, he slid them off. Buffy choked back bile as she saw that almost his entire body had rotted away, leaving yellow bone and clumps of gray flesh, “Bring forth from death, to become my slave. Bring forth, o’ powers of decay, essence of murder and of pain,” his voice raised to crescendo, “bring forth death!” he screamed, holding his hands high in the air. For a second nothing happened and Buffy snorted loudly,
“Too bad, huh Merc? Don’t feel bad though, one should never pass up an opportunity to strip naked in publ-” she stopped as she felt a chill pass through her. She exhaled and gaped in surprise as her breath crystallized into chill mist. A slow moaning sound began to fill the room. Buffy looked around fearfully as Mercurio’s hideous face broke into a grin,
“She comes! At my command!” he whispered exaltedly. There was a low wail that blew through the room, whirling around the blade. The drops of blood dripping from the stake, continued to hit the pan, which was sizzling madly at this point. Suddenly the whole pan burst into green flame. Buffy’s eyes widened as a face appeared in the flame, a face she recognized,
“Oh God,” she whispered, “Kendra…” Kendra’s soul wailed in pain as Mercurio reached forth and, with a cackle of triumph, plunged his hand into her, pillaging her soul and absorbing it into his rotted body. There was a brief flash of light as Mercurio’s body was consumed in green fire. His laughter, at first rasping, became deeper and booming. Buffy gaped as new flesh began to stretch over his bones, regenerating decayed tissue. The acolytes had moved away in awe of the profane spectacle.
There was another ghostly wail of pain as the last of the green flame disappeared into Mercurio’s regenerated body. Mercurio collapsed onto the floor, hands over his face. What had once been a rotted corpse was now a fully formed, muscular black-skinned man. An acolyte cautiously stepped forward,
“Lord Mercurio?” he whispered. The man stood and faced Buffy. Buffy gasped, the face was a mixture of both Mercurio’s and Kendra’s features. The man opened his eyes, revealing green flames in their sockets,
“Not anymore,” Mercurio replied in a familiar Jamaican accent, before throwing his head back, and howling with wicked laughter.
Buffy stared at him in horror,
“What did you do?” she whispered. Mercurio shook his head and pointed,
“Oh no, my dear, what did YOU do?” he taunted, “It was YOUR blood that let me access the soul of a slayer, and YOU brought the item that let me chain her to this realm long enough to…” he grinned as his face changed into that of a vampire, “…suck her dry!” he rasped. Buffy paled,
“You…raped Kendra’s soul?” he asked in disbelief. Mercurio chuckled,
“Just the parts I wanted, the power, the strength, the rest…” he made a dismissive gesture, “…like so much spiritual refuse,” he replied grinning. Two acolytes wrapped him in a black robe. He smiled and stretched his arms,
“Ah, the feel of blood flowing through my veins,” he grinned manically and turned back to the slayer, “So this is what it is to be a Slayer,” he inhaled deeply, “It’s incredible,” Buffy shook with anger,
“You’re a freak,” she whispered, “You may have stolen Kendra’s soul, but you’re not a slayer!” she spat defiantly. Mercurio grinned,
“Oh, you’re quite right, I am not merely a slayer,” he flexed a muscular arm and reached out to grasp a stone. His hand glowed in green light and the stone crumbled into dust, “I command the forces of life and death. I can kill with a touch, I am not a slayer, I am a GOD!” he cried out. The acolytes fell to their knees in worship. Mercurio gestured to the hands of bone, holding Buffy’s hands, they popped open and Buffy stumbled forward. Mercurio grinned and beckoned,
“Come, slayer, once I defeat you, I wonder what power TWO slayer’s souls will imbue me with,” he laughed again as Buffy settled into a fighting stance, trying to ignore her aching shoulder and the fact that if she lost this fight, she’d not only lose her life,
She’d lose her soul.
Buffy snapped out a kick to Mercurio’s head, he blocked it and backhanded her hard, sending her to the ground. Mercurio smirked,
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” he taunted. Buffy did a handstand and kicked up with both feet, catching him under the chin sending him stumbling away.
“How’s that?” she asked before launching into a series of punches. Some were blocked but a few made it through his defenses, causing him to flinch. Mercurio grabbed her arm and twisting it around her back, shoved her towards the sizzling plate. She collided hard into it and sent it tumbling with her atop it. Rolling over onto her back just in time to see Mercurio’s foot descending in an axe kick. She gasped and lurched away the blow narrowly missing. She lashed out with a foot aimed towards his face he caught it and sent her sprawling away. She winced in pain as she landed heavily on her wounded shoulder. She tried to beat back desperation, it was like trying to fight a powerful vampire AND a slayer. Shaking her head to clear it, she did a handspring to her feet and spin round, sending a spinning back fist to the vampire’s jaw. He flew back and stumbled as Buffy resumed to offensive, raining blows on his head. He snarled, his face shifting to its vampiric visage in frustrated rage and he beat her to the ground, she fell on her hands and knees as Mercurio raised his bare foot and slammed it hard down into the base of the slayer’s spine, she screamed in pain as he slowly twisted the foot back and forth, the sound of cracking vertebrae filling the room, Buffy’s eyes opened wide, and suddenly focused on an object just out of her reach.
Lying next to the overturned plate, was Kendra’s stake.
Buffy made a lunge for it…and stopped short as Mercurio brought his foot up and back down hard on the back of Buffy’s knee. There was a resounding crack as Buffy’s kneecap erupted in fire. She cried out again in pain as Mercurio snatched her up by the throat, flaming eyes glowing green with glee.
“I wonder if I’m going to enjoy being you,” he taunted. Slowly, he put his hand over her heart and with an excruciating jolt green flame erupted from her chest, slowly pouring into Mercurio. He had his eyes closed in rapture as he drained Buffy’s life essence away. For an agonized moment, Buffy was inside him, he could see herself being killed. And someone was with her,
“Buffy, do not surrender,” Kendra’s voice called out from somewhere around her, “We are here,” Buffy’s eyes squeezed shut trying to block the pain. Suddenly the arm holding her shuddered as green flame leapt OUT of Mercurio’s body into Buffy’s. Mercurio frowned in puzzlement,
“How…?” he asked his eyes had gone from Kendra’s brown, to Buffy’s blue. Buffy suddenly felt a wave of power fill her. She opened her eyes, and gritting against the pain, held her hand out towards the stake, lying on the ground
“Sha me-en-den. Gesh-toog me-en-den,” she gasped out, frowning as some part of her brain realized that she wasn’t speaking English. Mercurio turned to her, in shock and wrapped his other hand around her throat, choking the life out of her,
“Die!” he cried, “Why won’t you die?” Buffy gasped once and with a convulsion that shook her whole body, the stake flew to her hand. With a roar, Buffy plunged the stake into Mercurio’s heart. Mercurio gasped in pain and shock, dropping the slayer, severing the soul draining.
“THAT’s what it feels like to be a Slayer,” Buffy snarled as the vampire put his hands over his head, green light showing through his skin as his body began to crack like hot stone doused in water.
“No! This cannot be! She…is mine!” he roared, “NO!” He cried out one last time and with a scream of rage and pain, his body exploded, sending decayed shards and vampire fragments spraying everywhere. Buffy shielded herself from the explosion and looked back. Kendra was standing there, bathed in light looking at her proudly.
“You did well, Buffy,” Kendra told her, her voice echoing oddly, “You’ve taken the first step,” the glowing soul smiled. “The others are waiting,” she gestured out past the acolytes, who were looking pretty worried at the destruction of their leader, “Find them,” Kendra continued, “And thank you,” Kendra leaned down and picked up Mr. Pointy, bringing it to her forehead in a salute, she began to glow, until Buffy could not look anymore. When Buffy’s vision cleared, Kendra was gone. Buffy smiled slightly,
“Thanks, girlfriend,” she whispered. Buffy slowly stood, hobbling up onto her injured knee; she turned to the assembled vampires.
“Okay, so who’s next?” she growled.
The vampires looked at each other, looked back at the bloody slayer and ran like hell.
Buffy stuck a leg out, tripping one of the fleeing vampires, he sprawled to the
ground as Buffy spun him onto his back,
“You have once chance to live,” she growled, “The antidote for the grave rot!” she demanded. The vampire gestured frantically to Mercurio’s chambers,
“In there!” he cried out. Buffy dropped the vampire and hobbled towards the chamber door. Shoving it open, she looked down at the two zombies, now reverted back to lifeless corpses, with a snort of derision.
“Next lifetime, Mercurio, delegate a little,” she turned and entered the study. Hobbling over to a shelf full of jars, she reached over and checked the nearest one,
“No,” she muttered tossing it over her shoulder, it landed with a crash, “No, no, no, no,” there was a pile of broken glass behind her. She reached out and her fingers brushed against a clear blue bottle, she stopped. Some…instinct told her that this was the correct vial. She took it down and uncorked it, inhaling deeply. The liquid smelled clean, like a snowy winter day. Buffy smiled and hobbled over to Angel’s cell. Unlocking the door, she limped and dropped to one knee, gritting in pain. She cradled the dying vampire’s head in her hands,
“Drink,” she whispered, putting the bottle to his lips. Angel licked blackened lips and gently began to swallow tiny mouthfuls of the elixir as Buffy gently tilted the bottle. The results were miraculous. The dead gray skin began to peel off, revealing fresh healthy skin underneath; the pustules closed and flaked off, his eyes cleared of the cataracts. By the time the bottle was finished, Angel didn’t look a hundred percent, but it was certainly an improvement. Buffy helped him to his feet, trying not to put a lot of weight on her damaged knee,
“Angel, are you all right?” he coughed and nodded, “We need to find the others,” Angel pointed to a large mound of sand in the center of the room,
“There,” he coughed, “That’s the burial mound, Willow and Dusk are in there,” carefully leaning Angel against the cell wall, Buffy hobbled over to the giant mound, and plunged both her hands into the sand, sifting them back and forth. She growled in frustration, it was like looking for a needle in the haystack. Suddenly Buffy felt Dusk’s presence, somewhere under the sand to her left. Buffy frowned, it was like hearing and smelling and seeing at the same time. There was fear, and lots of it, and anger and something else…something like obsessive drive. She raced over to the spot and began to dig. Her fingers brushed against something hard and she cleared away the sand, revealing a collection of white bandages. Digging rapidly, Buffy gripped the white bandages and slowly pulled a mummified body out of the sand. It was weakly thrashing from side to side. Buffy raced over to the wrapped up head,
“Shhh, Alec, it’s okay, it’s me,” digging her fingers into the material, she ripped it aside, unwrapping his head hurriedly. A few layers and Dusk’s eyes shined through. Reaching up, she gripped the edge of the material and jerked down hard. Dusk’s mouth and nostrils were exposed as he gasped loudly for air, coughing hard. He sucked down several more lungfuls of air.
“Willow!” he gasped out. Buffy nodded hurriedly and closed her eyes again, trying to focus on her friend. There…no, THERE, very faint. Buffy dove into the sand and dug madly. Angel came up and helped Dusk out of the wrappings. Buffy dug, feeling Willow’s presence slip away,
“Willow!” she cried out hysterically. Dusk was suddenly next to her, plunging his fingers into the sand, hurling sand away, Angel right next to them.
“I’ve got her!” Angel yelled. Carefully he dragged the mummified girl out of the sand. Dusk dove to her, ripping away the bandages. Willow’s face was ashen gray, her lips blue.
“Willow!” Dusk cried out. Angel put a hand to her chest as Buffy was frantically tearing the bandages off her.
“I can’t find a pulse!” Angel reported. Dusk leaned over and began performing mouth-to-mouth as Buffy began C.P.R.
“Don’t you do this, Willow!” Buffy sobbed, pounding her friend’s lifeless chest. “Willow!” she screamed. Willow lay still, Dusk was forcing her chest to rise with his breath. Finally he brought his mouth from hers, resting an ear to her mouth.
“Nothing!” he yelled. Buffy sobbed as she pounded her friend’s chest,
“No!” she cried, hitting her chest over and over. Angel held her hands,
“Buffy, it’s over, she’s gone,” he told her mournfully. Buffy struggled against him, sobbing and screaming. Dusk had a hand over his eyes, his fists clenched to the point that the skin on his knuckles split.
“Willow,” he croaked stroking her face tenderly. Bringing her head up, he buried his face in her hair and cried.
“I couldn’t save her…” Buffy whispered brokenly. Angel shook his head,
“Buffy, you did all you could,” he tried to console her, “You can’t raise the dead,” Buffy felt her heart stop, pulling away from him, she looked at him with shock,
“What did you say?” she whispered hoarsely. Angel frowned,
“I said you did all you could Buffy,” he repeated, Buffy shook her head vehemently,
“After that, Angel! What did you say?!” she shrieked at him. He flinched at her histrionics,
“I said ‘you can’t raise the dead’,” he repeated. Buffy whirled around to Dusk, still cradling his lover’s body, shaking with grief.
“Alec! Get Willow in the center of the circle!” she demanded. Dusk’s head shot up, his reddened eyes wide in puzzlement. She whirled around to Angel,
“Help me up!” she demanded. Angel hurried to obey,
“Buffy, what are you doing?” he asked as Dusk carried Willow’s body to the center of the ring of fire. Buffy ignored him and gestured to the bone rack.
“Alec, put her in there and lean it back!” she demanded. Dusk obeyed, puzzled as he fastened her body into the skeletal rack. Angel frowned,
“Buffy, what are you doing?” he asked again. Buffy whirled on him,
“Help me set this plate up!” she replied curtly, trying to drag the bone pedestal upright with her one good arm. Angel moved to help her, “Hurry up!” she screamed at him “It’s not too late!” Angel started and helped her move the pedestal back into position,
“Too late for what?” he demanded. Buffy turned to him,
“To bring Willow’s soul back from the dead,” she replied quietly. Angel’s eyes bulged in shock.
“Buffy, that’s…” he struggled for words.
“You don’t want to help? Fine, stay out of our way,” Dusk came striding over, he shot Angel a withering glance and turned to Buffy, “What do we do?” Buffy turned to him,
“Find Mercurio’s spell book, look for something that talks about the conjuring of spirits. We also need some of Willow’s hair, Willow once told me that for magic it helps to have a lock of hair from the person. Also an object of hers that’s really important, and some of her blood,” Buffy replied in rapid-fire succession. Dusk nodded and turned to Willow’s body on the rack.
“I’ll find the spell book,” Angel offered. Buffy nodded gratefully as he dashed into the study. Dusk carefully cut a lock of the witch’s hair with a shadow tendril and rushed over dumping it into the plate.
“Here,” he said hurriedly. Buffy looked up,
“Something that she had that meant a lot to her,” Dusk yanked off a ring she had given him and threw it into the plate with the hair. “And some blood,” Dusk turned and lashed out with a tendril of darkness, cutting a path across Willow’s collarbone, blood oozed out. He retracted the tendril and wrung it out, causing drops of her blood to drip into the plate.
“Got it!” Angel called out, hoisting a heavy book. He dumped it onto a table and began hurriedly flipping through it, “Soul restoration, soul summoning,” he growled under his breath. Without a word, Buffy shoved her fingers into the pages of the book and flipped them to the correct incantation. Angel looked up at her in shock,
“How did you…?” Buffy shook her head.
“No time. Go stand over there with Dusk,” she glared at him, “NOW!” she yelled. Angel looked at her uncomprehending before obeying. Buffy raised her hands over her head slowly,
“Powers of death, powers that be eternal, hear my plea,” she began. The torches on the wall began to flicker slightly, “Powers of bone, of blood, of earth and soil, I beseech thee!” she called out loudly, her voice echoing strangely in the chamber. “I summon forth the soul of Willow Rosenberg from beyond the veil!” she called out grandly, she held her hand out, “I offer fire!” Dusk placed a torch into her outstretched hand, she thrust the burning flame into the plate. The lock of red hair ignited, strange smoke began billowing out, “And blood!” she cried out, sliding her fingers into her shoulder wound, gritting her teeth against the pain, she removed her fingers, now slick with her own blood and flicked the blood into the plate. Her blood mixed with Willow’s as it began to pop and sizzle madly. A low wail began to fill the room, Dusk gasped as he noticed Buffy’s and his breath began to billow like steam out of their mouths.
“Spirit world, here my plea! Bring forth that which was taken, from this mortal coil!” Buffy chanted holding her hands over her head, “Bring me the soul of Willow Rosenberg, bring it now!” she cried. A white mist began to swirl around Buffy. Angel and Dusk gaped in astonishment.
“Bring it now!” her voice reached a screaming crescendo, and with a crack of thunder and a flare of light, the mist coalesced and slammed into Willow’s body. Her body arched its back, mouth and eyes open wide filled with glowing white light.
“BRING IT NOW!!!” Buffy screamed one last time. There was another flash of light, the whole chamber shook and reverberated with a thunderous rumble. Buffy, Angel and Dusk were knocked clean off their feet as a white shock wave, washed over them. The ghostly wail reached a deafening pitch, there was a loud slam, then silence. The torches lining the wall were extinguished as was the ring of fire. The bone pedestal was twisted and destroy, the metal plate warped and crushed. Buffy lay on her hands and knees, panting in exhausting, her hair sweaty and ragged clung to her forehead. Dusk and Angel got to their feet and looked at the bone rack which Willow’s body rest upon. For a long moment there was nothing, Dusk felt rage building in him; he opened his mouth to scream…
…And with a loud shuttering gasp, Willow’s eyes snapped open. She coughed hard and Dusk raced over to her, ripping open the restraints and dragging her into an upright sitting position pounding her back.
“Bring it up! That’s right!” he was commanding her semi-hysterically, his eyes streaming with tears. He kept pounding her back, Willow weakly held up a hand,
“Alec, you’re going to put me in traction if you keep that up,” she rasped. Dusk gasped and grabbed her face in both his hands, his eyes bored into hers with blazing intensity.
“Willow?” he asked, his voice shaking with emotion. Gently, Willow reached up and stroked his face,
“Miss me?” she smiled weakly. With a wild cry of relief, Dusk gathered the woman into his arms, holding her tightly, tears leaking out of his eyes. He kissed her head over and over.
“I love you,” he whispered hoarsely. Willow just nodded holding him tightly. Buffy was being helped over by Angel, she gathered the pair in a hug of her own, sobbing out her fear and pain and relief. The three just held each other for a while, crying and laughing at the same time, before pulling away.
“Does this mean I’m not the Scooby witch anymore?” Willow asked frowning. Buffy laughed and wiped away her eyes,
“Will, I don’t know how you do it, I feel AWFUL!” she laughed and winced. Willow’s eyes widened in concern for her friend.
“Buffy you’re hurt!” she cried, swinging her feet down, she jumped from the table, and nearly collapsed before Dusk caught her in a strong grip.
“Sweetheart, you just came back from the dead, let’s save the aerobics for later,” picking her up in his arms, he carried her as if she weighed nothing. She just rested her head against his shoulder. Dusk gave his sister a long look,
“Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely. Buffy smiled and nodded,
“Well, hey she’s been my friend a lot longer than your lover, but you’re welcome just the same,” she grinned. Angel wrapped an arm around the slayer, steadying her.
“What about the Everstone?” he asked. Willow suddenly looked up from Dusk’s shoulder.
“There’s something under the burial mound, like a door,” she told them. Dusk carried his newly revived lover to the burial mound and gently set her down, propping her up against the sand.
“I’m just going to help Buffy dig, all right?” he asked concerned. Willow smiled and patted his hand,
“Go on, silly, I’m fine,” she smiled reassuringly. Dusk smiled and kissed her fiercely, long and hard. Willow reached up to stroke his face as they kissed. Finally they broke apart. Dusk kissed her face with almost bruising force.
“You are so amazing,” he whispered. Willow stroked his hair; he caught her hand and kissed it before turning to Buffy.
“Okay, you rest, Angel and I will dig,” Buffy was about to argue when Angel growled at her. She sighed,
“Fine,” she replied. Angel rested her next to Willow, the two friends quickly joined hands, entwining each other’s fingers tightly around the others. They smiled at each other.
“That was pretty amazing, Buffy,” Willow commented “When did you start with the magic?” Buffy shrugged,
“I don’t know Will, it just…felt right,” she shrugged and rested her head against Willow’s shoulder, “I’m just glad it worked, the way I felt seeing you like that,” she shuddered slightly as Willow kissed her head,
“I’m okay Buffy, really I am,” she shrugged, “I mean, okay for having just arisen from the grave,” she quipped, Buffy laughed and gathered her friend up in a gentle hug, trying not to bleed on her.
“I love you, Wills,” she whispered. Willow laughed,
“I’ve been hearing that a lot today, I should die more often,”
“NO!” Buffy and Dusk both yelled, Dusk looking up from his work aghast. Willow smiled and shook her head,
“Only kidding, being dead once was enough for me for right now,” she smiled and stretched her legs out, resting her head on the slayer’s unwounded shoulder. Buffy rested her head on Willow’s and together they sighed contently in relief.
Angel and Dusk continued to dig for about an hour, before they felt something solid under the sand.
“Jackpot!” Dusk called out. Willow and Buffy both looked up as he and Angel cleared off the sand revealing a large door set in the ground with a rusted metal loop. Angel grunted and pulled hard on the loop, he strained and with a loud sucking sound the door opened, a blast of stale air rushed out, blowing Angel’s hair back. He set the door down parallel to the entrance and peered in, there was a long series of stairs winding down into it.
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s been in here for a very long time,” he commented. Looking back at Buffy and Willow, “Be a good place to hide something,” Dusk nodded,
“Okay, so let’s you and I go get the Everstone,” Angel nodded, before stumbling and sagging against the sand, his strength fading. Dusk hurriedly caught him,
“Whoa! Maybe not you, refugee boy,” he looked over at Buffy questioningly.
“Angel was super-aging, he’s probably still not over it,” she explained. She struggled to her feet, wincing in pain. Willow helped her up,
“And you’ve been stabbed and your knee looks all puffy and icky,” Willow observed. Buffy shook her head,
“Willow, I’m going down there, I want this damn stone,” she gritted. Willow nodded and wrapped the slayer’s arm around her shoulders,
“Well, then I’m going with you,” she replied, bracing the slayer. Angel got his second wind and came over to support Buffy’s other arm. Dusk dug into his pocket for a lighter and lit a torch, peering down the stairs.
“Okay, let’s do this thing and get the hell out of here,” Dusk growled.
“Amen,” the other three vowed in unison. Dusk took the lead with Angel and Willow helping the injured slayer down the stairs. After what seemed like an endless time of winding stairs, they reached another door, soft light could be seen emanating from the crack beneath the door. Dusk carefully reached out and pushed it open slowly, already conjuring darkness.
“Oh good, there you are,” a familiar voice called out, “Do any of you perhaps know a four-letter term for Christmas?” Dusk gaped at the sight.
The old man from the graveyard, Oliver, was casually sitting in a chair, a jumbo pen to his lips thoughtfully, peering down at a copy of the New York Times, he smiled up at him through his beard.
“Well hello Dust, Bunny, Wilma, Angelina,” he smiled and beckoned the stunned group into the room, “Come in come in, no need to be shy,” there was a bark and a black lab came trotting into the room. Oliver glared at the dog “Oh hush up, Mikey, be nice, these people have come a long way,” he flashed the group an apologetic smile, “Pain-in-the-butt dog,” he chuckled and sat down. Angel found his voice first,
“What…how…?” Oliver nodded,
“Well Angelina, those sound like very important questions,” he nodded sagely, “And for the life of me I can’t any answer of them,” he smiled quirkily at the group, “But, I can help you find what you came here for,”
“The Everstone?” Willow asked breathlessly. Oliver bobbed his head,
“You betcha, Wilma!” he grinned and got to his feet, before frowning down at the crossword puzzle. “You sure none of you know a four-letter term for Christmas?” he asked.
“Noel,” Dusk replied without thinking. Oliver’s bearded face broke into a wide grin,
“ ‘Noel!' ” he laughed and scribbled something on the paper, “Perfect!” he grinned to the pair, “Was voted three time crossword champion back in Crabapple Cove,” he chuckled and turned to the group,
“Well, you're looking for the stone or ain’t ya?” he demanded querulously. The group slowly hobbled towards him, Willow and Angel supporting Buffy, Dusk at point. The old man smiled and led them into another room,
“Yup, here we go,” he gestured to the room. The group peered in…and froze in astonishment. There was a large bonfire set in a great stone protector in the center of the room, surrounded by a glittering ring of white sand. Light shined from giant gold mirrors set in a circle around the chamber, each one facing a different direction, but that wasn’t the main attraction.
The room was completely filled with gems.
Big ones, small ones, of all shapes, sizes and colors, the group looked around in awe. Each stone glittered brightly in the firelight.
“I know I’ve seen this in a movie,” Dusk muttered. Buffy turned to him,
“Which one?”
“ ‘Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade',” he explained, “The last scene, Indy has to pick the right Holy Grail from a room full of grails.”
“Did he pick the right one?” Willow asked. Dusk nodded.
“What happened if he picked the wrong one?” Buffy questioned worriedly. Dusk turned to her with a grave look. Buffy’s face fell.
“I see,” she replied grimly. She turned to Oliver, “I don’t suppose you have any input to add?” she asked dryly. The old man smiled apologetically and shook his head,
“Sorry Bunny, free will and all that,” he replied, truly sounding sorry. Buffy sighed; she was in too much pain and too tired to get angry. Carefully the group fanned out through the room, peering at each and every gem.
“The Everstone is that which balances light and dark,” Dusk muttered to himself, peering intently at each and every stone.
“Maybe we should find a gem that’s made up of both light and dark stone?” Willow suggested. Dusk nodded,
“Give it a shot,” he replied. The group searched high and low but they could not find a stone that had both light and dark mixed together. Angel sighed,
“This is getting us nowhere,” he growled, kicking some sand from the ground sending the sparkling granules flying into the air. Dusk froze,
“Light and dark combined,” he looked down at the sand at his feet. “Light and dark inside us,” he looked around at the mirrors that reflected light, and with a shock he realized that there was no light except that from the fire in the center, which couldn’t be responsible for THIS much light.
“I’ve got it!” Dusk cried out hurriedly. “Light and dark, light and dark!” he screamed with joy. Everyone looked at him like he’d gone mad. He gestured,
“Willow, get to those mirrors, and focus all the light on the fire!” she frowned but obeyed. He spun on Angel,
“Angel, get another handful of sand, and get ready to throw it into the fire when I tell you. Buffy, get on the other side of the fire and get some sand too,” the pair looked at each other then back at him, “Just do it! Trust me!” Dusk yelled. They moved to opposite sides of the fire as Willow finished moving the mirrors, adjusting them so their light all shone into the fire. Dusk grinned and pointed at the cavern walls,
“Look! The light from the mirrors doesn’t pass through the fire!” he was nearly delirious with excitement. They others turned to look and gasped. Sure enough, the reflected light passed into the fire but not out. Dusk grinned and aimed his hand towards the fire, a darkness tendril emerging from his arm.
“Okay, on the count of three, Angel, Buffy, throw the sand into the fire,” he instructed. They nodded and readied themselves. Dusk grinned at the fire,
“Light and dark,” he repeated. “Ready? One, two…three!”
With a heave, Buffy and Angel hurled the glittering sand into the fire, and with perfect timing, Dusk lashed out with the darkness tendril. The darkness collided with the glittering sand, which glowed in the mirrors' directed light like a million stars. There was a bright flash of light as the fire roared and blazed up to become a towering inferno. There was a whooshing sound and the gems in the room all shattered, like worthless glass, a jolt of purple energy that shot up the darkness tendril, slamming into Dusk, knocking him back to the ground. Then just as suddenly the fire died. Dusk got to his feet carefully as he and the others peered into the blackened firepit.
And there, resting in some ash was a large egg-shaped gem with a thousand different facets. It pulsed and hummed softly, glowing light surrounded by a ring of swirling darkness. They group grinned,
“The Everstone,” Buffy breathed, gingerly reaching down to pick it up reverently. The old man threw his head back and laughed,
“Ha ha! Good for you! I knew you could do it!” he grinned triumphantly down at the dog, “You owe me ten bucks,” he declared smugly. The dog whimpered and fled into the other room. Willow walked over to Dusk, amazed,
“How did you know what to do?” she asked. Dusk grinned and gestured at Angel,
“Thank Angel, when he kicked the sand, I noticed that the light from the mirrors made the sand kind of sparkle in the air. It made EVERY grain of sand sparkle. There was no way that all the mirrors; the way they were positioned could make ALL the sand sparkle. Then I remembered how you make glass,” he grinned.
“Fire and sand,” Angel replied. Dusk nodded,
“And as far as the light and darkness goes. Well, that was just a guess,” he smiled wryly.
“And a darn tootin’ good one lad!” Oliver piped in, he slammed Dusk on the back, hard enough to knock him forward, “So, now that you got yer Everstone, what are you gonna do with the blasted thing?” he demanded. Dusk sighed and shook his head,
“Well, one down, two to go,” Dusk muttered. Buffy looked up,
“The Wordless Psalm?” she asked, Dusk nodded.
“That would be my next guess, yeah,” Buffy sighed, in had taken them weeks to find the stone, how much longer would it take them to find the other two items. Oliver noticed their glum faces,
“Hey! What’s with the sourpusses? Y’all did great! Darn fine work, each and every one of you!” he smiled through his beard and herded them out of the room. “Well, I’m willing to be you want to be getting back to the surface, don’t ya? I can’t blame you, I have awful neighbors, chanting all the time, raising the dead at all hours of the night,” the old man shook his head and sighed disgustedly, “That’s what I get for not getting myself a nice condo down in the Keys.” Buffy frowned at Oliver,
“You knew about the vampires?” she asked incredulously, “Who are you?” she demanded. The old man grinned and waggled his bushy white eyebrows,
“Me? I’m a Pisces, I like water-skiing, Italian food and long walks in the rain. You?” he replied. Buffy sighed and shook her head,
“I’m sorry I asked," she muttered. Oliver scratched his head confused,
“You don’t like Italian food?” he questioned meekly. Buffy tried to glare at the old man, but there was something about him that didn’t let her stay angry with him. She sighed,
“I’m a lasagna girl myself,” she replied. Oliver grinned,
“Ah, a spinach girl! Yes, I can see that now, builds strong bones, healthy teeth!” he nodded approvingly.
“Ummm…I think that’s milk,” Willow commented tentatively. Oliver spun around to face her,
“It is?” he asked amazed. She nodded, “Hmmm…you know that might explain why my Corn Flakes didn’t taste right, even with lots of sugar,” he frowned at her, “You’re sure it’s milk and not spinach that fortifies your body with nine essential vitamins and nutrients?” he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Willow nodded, and the older man harrumphed. “Well then, I guess I should stop trying to pour creamed spinach into my breakfast cereal,” he commented thoughtfully. Willow made a face.
“Excuse me, sir?” Buffy put forth, “Not to interrupt your fascinating, yet incredibly nauseating conversation, but we’d like to get out of here,” she informed him. Oliver bobbed his head,
“Oh sure thing, you want me to just magic you up there?” he rolled up the sleeves of his dirty white sweatshirt, “I know a couple of humdingers, eye of newt, brain of toad,” he frowned suddenly, “Or is it the other way around?” he muttered absent-mindedly. Dusk sighed,
“Is there another way out of here, all of us are in pretty bad shape,” he told him. Oliver frowned,
“Maybe it’s ‘Brain of mouse, eye of house,’ No. Wait. That’s not right either,” he looked up at Dusk, shaking himself from his musings “Whazat? Oh sure, a way out!” he grinned and gestured to a large pile of enormous green leaves on the floor, just below a very large hole in the ceiling, “Just ride those up to the top, you’ll be surface side in no time flat!” he assured them. Angel frowned at the old man,
“Ride them?” he asked puzzled. Oliver bobbed his head,
“You betcha! Best in foliage transportation there is. Warranty’s still good for another two hundred years,” he frowned and furrowed his brow, “I think…” Buffy sighed and hobbled over to stand on one of the gigantic leaves.
“Whatever, this won’t be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” she exhaled hard, favoring her uninjured leg. Dusk, Willow and Angel exchanged looks and sighed, hanging their heads in defeat, plodded over to the leaves, resigned to their fate that logic shall never EVER apply to any of them, ever again. Oliver grinned at them,
“Well, then, be sure to keep your trays in the upright position and your chairs firmly stowed and locked away,” he grinned, not noticing how badly mangled his imitation of the immortal airline advisory was. There was a bark, and Oliver turned to face a brown and white terrier.
“Oh that’s right, that reminds me!” lunging to the table, he snatched up the copy of the New York Times he was working on, he peered at the paper, “Does anyone know a four letter Hebrew term for ‘truth?” he peered at the paper, “And a three letter Hebrew term for ‘death’ that starts on the second letter of that first one?” he asked puzzled. He got blank looks from everyone and sighed, “Oh well, guess it’s not your fault. Too busy going to sock hops and drive-in movies,” he sighed and shook his head, “anyhow, enjoy your trip,” Buffy frowned,
“What do you mea-?” The last was lost in a shriek of surprise as Buffy’s leaf rocketed into the air carrying her with it, up the hole. Angel, Dusk and Willow had time to swallow loudly before their own leaves followed suit. Grinning and offering a mocking salute to the departing group, he chuckled and turned back to his chair. He regarded the crossword puzzle intently, penned the letter ‘A’, leaning back he stopped to admire his work.
Their names, everybody’s, was in the crossword puzzle. Buffy, Xander, Spike, Angel, Giles, Willow, Alec, Faith, Anya and Dawn, each one entwined with the other, forming a crossword puzzle, The ONLY thing on an otherwise completely blank version of the New York Times newspaper. Oliver smiled crossing the ‘A’ in Angels name. The dog barked again, and Oliver scowled at him,
“Oh hush up, Michael,” he turned and scowled at the paper, “You didn’t know ‘noel’ either,” Harrumphing, Oliver got to his feet, which were glad in bright white sneakers with yellow smiley faces on them and walked out of the room, the dog following.


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