The Wind Beyond the Walls of the Mind
Chapter 21
The Res Profana
by Gaius Petronius
DISCLAIMER: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the characters that appear on the show are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, the WB, Fox and Mutant Enemy, Inc. This story can be read on its own or as a sequel to H. P. Lovecraft's "The Haunter of the Dark" from which the Ancient Ones, the Shining Trapezohedron and the character of Robert Blake are derived.
The Wind Beyond the Walls of the Mind is set roughly in mid-season four shortly following the death of Doyle but before the creation of Adam and the death of Maggie Walsh.
Content Note: This part is rated PG-13 for a little raunchy language.
Professor Walsh sat behind her desk in a swivel office chair. Her office was barren of any personal objects, the walls white and blank with no pictures or photographs. She preferred it that way since she felt any decorations would only serve to distract from the important work of her Initiative command. Former command anyway, she mused. Finn had out flanked her once. She wasn't about to sit quietly and let him dismantle her years of careful work among the "hostiles."
Walsh folded her hands under her chin and glared at a computer monitor in front of her. There was an advantage to her confinement in that no one would interrupt her now. Her eyes were wide and her teeth clenched. She'd had no sleep but that was no bother. Every so often, with lightning speed, she typed in an entry on her keyboard and then studied the monitor intensely. Suddenly, she slammed her hand in anger on the desk in front of her.
"DAMN!" she shouted.
The noise attracted the attention of an Initiative Soldier standing guard outside the door to her office. The door opened and the Soldier, fully suited and armed with an automatic rifle, stepped crisply inside.
"Is there a problem, ma'am?" he asked without emotion.
"No . . . " Maggie Walsh answered, her voice dripping sarcasm, "There's no problem. Just a little setback in my cyber-chess game here. Do you play chess, Soldier?
"No, ma'am."
"Pity. Then you wouldn't understand."
The Soldier glared momentarily at Walsh. Seeing nothing that would arouse suspicion, he turned, left the room and shut the door behind him. There was a loud snap as the lock slipped into place. Walsh returned her attention to the computer monitor.
"You may have me in 'check' for the moment, Riley Finn," she said out loud to herself, "But you forgot one little detail. I wrote the security protocols for the Initiative systems, and all I need is a little more time with these strings of code . . ."
Maggie Walsh's voice trailed off. She put her chin in her clasped hands in front of her once more. As she glared at the monitor, her eyes widened and, in a moment, began to glow with the faintest crimson light. She quickly typed in another entry and hit the return key. Now satisfied, she settled back in her chair and grinned. All around, the red hue that began in her eyes now permeated the room, casting a glow up the walls and across the ceiling.
"There . . . that's better," the voice that emanated from her face whispered to the empty room.
On the main floor of the Command Center, Riley stood behind Hunter who was seated at the infra-red monitor. The activity in the Command Center was now fast and furious with soldiers and technicians moving equipment, testing systems and studying maps of Sunnydale and its nearby environs.
As Riley stared over Hunter's shoulder, he yawned and rubbed his eyes. Suddenly, Graham stepped up behind him and put his hand on Riley's arm.
"Hey . . . you're beat, man," Graham said, "Knock off for a few hours, okay? Get some sleep. We'll handle it here."
"I'm all right," Riley answered without conviction as he rubbed his bloodshot eyes.
"No, you're not!" Graham replied firmly, "You're barely on two feet now. By tonight, you won't know which way is up."
"He's right, sir," Hunter added without taking his attention away from the monitor.
"You, too?" Riley said, rubbing his face in his hands, "Okay, you guys win. But I want you both to take a breather at 0600 as well. I don't want anybody burned out around here tonight. Be back by dusk."
"You got it," Graham replied but Riley could tell from his tone of voice that his order was going to be ignored. Nevertheless, Riley was so exhausted that this well intentioned challenge to his authority was not about to keep him under the bright lights of the Initiative Command Center.
Without answering, he walked away slowly towards the steel staircase leading to the catwalk exit. Graham and Hunter watched him leave.
"Keep me posted if our bogie pops up," Graham said after Riley disappeared from sight.
"You'll hear me squawk, sir," Hunter grinned, quoting a favorite Howard Hawks film.
* * * * * * *
Tara's dorm room was dark with the shades drawn. Working by candlelight, the Wiccan assembled a selection herbs and ingredients on her desk. As she brushed a small mound of ground herbs into a tiny iron pot, there came a soft knock at the door.
"Come on in," she said quietly, not looking up from her work.
Quickly, Willow entered with several books under her arm. Her grin betrayed a little smear of jelly and powdered sugar around her lips.
"Hi . . ."
"Hi . . ." Tara answered as she put aside a little ceramic mortar and pestle she was holding.
There was a long pause as the two women waited, still nervous, for the other to make the first move.
"You got a little mess on your face," Tara finally said, pointing.
"Oh, yeah," Willow replied, wiping her face with her free hand and grinning slightly, "Donuts."
Willow set the books down on Tara's bed and approached her friend. Hesitating for only a moment more, the two slowly put their arms around each other and hugged tenderly.
"I was so afraid," Tara whispered into Willow's shoulder, "I didn't know where you were."
Tara pulled her head off Willow and looked her friend in the eye.
"And then the earthquake came and everything started shaking . . ."
"It wasn't . . . an earthquake," Willow said softly, looking down.
". . . I know . . ." Tara answered after a pause.
Uncertainly, Willow stepped back from Tara and stared at one of the burning candles.
"It almost broke through last night," she said, her voice tinged with fear, "Even without the planetary conjunction. It tried to get the Shining Trapezohedron. Faith and Xander stopped It."
"Faith?" Tara's eyes widened in amazement, "Isn't she the Slayer that went wild?"
"Yeah."
"Is everybody okay?"
". . . no . . . " Willow paused, shaking her head as she stared blankly at the candle, "Faith's unconscious. Giles won't say anything but everybody knows she's probably not going to come out of it. . . she could be dead by now. . . . and It nearly killed Mr. MacDuffie, too. He's hiding it, but I can tell he can hardly walk."
Tara now was frightened.
"What do we do?"
"Buffy's our only hope now," Willow answered trying to sound firm, "Giles says we have to do everything we can tonight to distract It, funnel off Its powers so that Buffy can seal It and the rest of the Ancient Ones back up in the Void. I need you Tara. We all have to work together on this one."
Tara straightened up, using her body to try and match Willow's attitude. "What do we have to do?"
"Giles wants us to work on spells that concentrate light and scatter darkness . . . and then link them together with magnification spells."
"That'll be real tricky," Tara answered seriously.
"I've got some of Giles' books here but there are some spells missing. And there are references to stuff I've never heard of . . . something called the Res Profana?"
Tara's eyes widened.
"I have," she answered and Willow was astonished as she saw Tara's hands begin to visibly shake.
"What is it?" she asked carefully.
"The 'Damned Thing,'" Tara answered, her voice weighted with a knowledge that Willow could see had her friend petrified.
"It's a book of black magic . . . horrible spells and incantations that some people say predates human existence. It's in a lot of different languages . . . some that can't be read anymore, if they ever could to begin with."
"It can't be that old," Willow said, surprised, "I mean, if people didn't write it, then who did?"
". . . not who . . . what . . ." Tara answered coldly.
A look of horror crossed Willow's face as Tara's meaning sank in.
". . . the Ancient Ones! . . ." Willow whispered.
"They were here . . . before." Tara said ominously, "It's incredibly dangerous, but it probably has the answers we're looking for."
"Do you know where it is?" Willow's voice trembled with both fear and anticipation. As Tara nodded, Willow felt her stomach suddenly leap as if she were riding in a car that took a bump in the road too quickly.
"In the basement rare book room of the college library, in one of the cages in the back. Somebody sent it out here from New England in the 1930's with orders that it be kept under lock and key."
"Well, let's go!" Willow said as she turned towards the dorm door.
"No!" Tara called out, suddenly frightened.
"What? Tara?"
"Willow, I don't know how to explain this but . . ." Tara stopped in mid sentence. She faced Willow and stepped up to within a few inches of her friend.
". . . please . . . trust me . . . just this once. Let me handle it. Alone."
"Are you sure?" Willow's eyebrows were raised in uncertainty.
"There's only one other thing I've ever been as sure of in my life," Tara answered softly.
She wrapped her arms around Willow and held her close. Willow drank in the warm softness of Tara's body and she shuddered too as she imagined there was a sense of finality in their every move and action. Both Wiccans remained in each other's embrace for a long time. Finally, Tara pulled away.
"Listen, I gotta go. I'll meet you back here by dark."
"That's okay. I'm gonna chase down some other books and stuff for the spells. MacDuffie's shop got wrecked last night," Willow grinned, "You know anyplace I can find bat wings and iguana toenails? The usual nasties?"
"Might try Hot Topic in the Mall," Tara suggested as she tossed her long blond hair off her shoulders, "You know the girl with the lip rings and purple hair, Emily? She keeps some stuff behind the counter . . . but it's not very fresh."
"Yeah, I got some bad tarantula eggs from her once."
"Eeeww!" Tara crinkled her nose.
"I think she does it on purpose," Willow said.
"Willow? . . ." Tara paused, her face again radiating uncertainty, "Will you promise me something?"
"Sure. Anything," Willow answered, puzzled.
Tara spoke slowly.
"If I'm not back an hour after sunset . . . don't come looking for me."
Shocked, Willow was about to protest, but Tara quickly interrupted her.
"No! Promise me! Get to MacDuffie's shop. Don't look back, just do what you can."
Willow was speechless, her mind now awash in sudden visions of a fiery red cloud reaching down from the sky and seizing her new lover. Unable to reply, she only shook her head in horror.
* * * * * * *
Buffy sat on a bench by herself in the UC Sunnydale Quadrangle. Exhausted, she leaned against the armrest of the bench and tried not to nod off. She struggled to concentrate on the students walking and running by between classes but the whirl of activity was almost too much for her drained mind.
Out of the crowd, Riley appeared and spotted Buffy. She didn't recognize him at first but only stared straight ahead. Riley walked up behind the bench and waited for a moment. Finally Buffy sensed his presence. Looking over her shoulder, she jumped to her feet and embraced him as she moved quickly around the bench, at the same time banging her leg against one of the seat slats in the process.
"Ow!" she complained, giving in to the pain.
"Whoa! Whoa! Careful," he replied as Buffy stumbled into his arms. He caught her and held her up. Her body was almost limp, and he worried at her obvious weakness.
"Hey, take it easy! Come on, sit down," he said reassuringly.
Riley and Buffy, their arms still wrapped around each other, both sat on the bench.
"I'm sorry," Buffy murmured, "I'm so tired."
"I can imagine," Riley answered as he held her tightly to keep her body upright.
Buffy looked in surprise at Riley.
"That thing tried to break through last night, didn't it?" he said, understanding her unspoken question.
"How'd you know?"
"The infrared scanners went nuts. It's targeted some little magic shop downtown, right?"
"Yeah. Mr. MacDuffie's place," Buffy said, now too tired to either protest or concoct a story to explain away the near disaster of the last few hours, "It's after something called the Shining Trapezohedron. It's a crystal of some kind that can open the gate between the Void and this universe."
"I'm not sure exactly what this all means, but I promised you I'll be by your side tonight," Riley said as he held her.
"Riley, no!"
"Yes. This is the plan," he continued, ignoring her fears, "I got four squads that are going to spread out in the cross streets north of that shop. When it appears, we'll move in and hassle it, then fall back and sting it like wasps all the way. We're gonna keep it busy . . . until you do what you have to do . . . whatever that is."
Despairing, Buffy leaned against Riley's chest and placed her arms around his shoulders
"Please, Riley, no," she whimpered as she felt the exhaustion and need for sleep overwhelming her body, "You'll all be killed. Why are you trying to do this?"
Riley spread his arms protectively over Buffy. She snuggled in closer as if he were the soft comforter on her bed back in the dorm room.
"Because," he said gently, "If you don't succeed in doing whatever you're going to do, what'll I have left then?"
Having been up almost forty eight hours straight was finally too much for Buffy to fight any longer.
". . . please . . . Riley . . . no . . . " Buffy cried softly as she surrendered and drifted off to sleep, " . . . I love you so much . . ."
"And that's why I'm going to do it," he answered confidently, "You said something last night that . . . about us being together on the edge of the end of the world. I don't know where it came from or what it was all about. All I know is that, if at that final moment we have each other, . . . then the world will never really end. We'll be together forever. I just know it. . . . Does that make any sense?"
Buffy didn't respond. She was sleeping peacefully in Riley's arms. Riley sighed as he realized she didn't hear a word he had said. He lowered his face so that his cheek rested in the honey blond hair on the top of Buffy's head. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
All about them swirled the everyday noises of the busy college campus, the voices of students, the roar of car engines in the parking lot, laughter and plans being made for weekend parties. It all sounded like any other noon time in a seemingly never ending sequence of daily life.
Only Buffy and Riley, like a pair of time travelers totally lost to the present, rested asleep in each other's arms as the world whirled by.
* * * * * * *
The Hot Topic store in the mall was cramped and clearly held too much merchandise for the narrow space it occupied. The aisles were lined with goth, costume and other leather and vinyl clothing, mostly in black and purple. A few display cases held plastic jewelry, pornographic greeting cards and jars of multicolored lipstick, glitter and makeup. One wall was entirely covered with rock posters and t-shirts. Korn glared down at the shop floor below and Rammstein was engulfed in flames. Overhead in the back of the shop a bank of black lights illuminated a variety of day glow products in an eerie green irridescence. Music blared from the store's sound system.
The shop was empty except for Willow and Emily, who sported purple hair which had been dyed too many times and a pair of lip rings. Dressed from head to toe in black vinyl, she lurked behind the counter around the cash register. Willow stood in front of the check out, holding a tiny screw cap glass jar that Emily had furtively passed to her. Gingerly Willow opened the cap and sniffed the contents.
"Hey, don't be so picky," Emily snipped, "You're in luck here. That's probably the last jar of weasel warts in Sunnydale!"
A stench emanated from the jar, and Willow suddenly recoiled as if she had been slapped in the face.
"Holy Shit!" the Wiccan exclaimed.
"What the fuck's wrong now?!" Emily complained.
Willow, shaking her head, only stared at the check out attendant.
"You gotta be kidding me!" was all Willow could spit out as she shoved the jar back across the counter to Emily.
"What?! . . . " Emily said in exasperation, "It works good when it's ripe!"
* * * * * * * * *
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