“Now whereabouts was this book you found?” Giles asked as Cordelia and Xander walked up next to him. The Thrumman house was dark and quiet, as it had been when they left.
“That’s strange, I thought I saw it land right over here,” Cordelia said, walking across the lawn.
“Land?” Giles asked.
“You don’t want to know,” Xander replied.
“My sandals are getting all wet,” Cordelia whined as she tip-toed across the dew soaked grass.
“Cordelia, if you were any more self-absorbed you’d collapse into a black hole,” Xander said.
“Hey, these are real leather. And if someone hadn’t been acting like an immature idiot, as usual, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Cordelia shot back.
“You can’t blame this on me,” Xander began hotly.
“Enough!” Giles interrupted and rubbed his temples. “We’ll split up and search the yard. The book has to be here somewhere.”
The three slowly walked through the yard, pausing occasionally to sweep their hands along the moist grass or look under a small shrub.
“Xander?” Cordelia said in a voice barely above a whisper as they passed close to each other.
“Yeah?” he said, his eyes still searching the ground.
“What if we can’t find the book?” she asked.
“Then we’ll figure out another way to end the spell,” Xander shrugged.
“But what if we can’t? I mean, what if they’re trapped in the story forever?” Cordelia continued.
“Don’t talk like that,” Xander glared at her, his eyes narrowing. He turned back to examining the lawn. “We’re going to get them out. Somehow.”
“You care a lot about them, don’t you?” Cordelia said, her voice suddenly small and tender, as if she were in pain.
Xander looked at her, momentarily speechless. Cordelia stood before him, her shoulders slumped a little, her long brown hair spilling over her face. Somehow, she seemed much smaller at that moment than he had remembered.
“Well, yeah, I care for them. They’re my friends,” Xander said, trying to shake off Cordelia’s sudden personality change.
“If it had been me and not them that got trapped in the book,” Cordelia continued, her eyes suddenly boring into him, “would you still be trying so hard to break the spell?”
Xander stammered incoherently for a moment, pinned under the Cordelia’s steady gaze. Then he locked eyes with her and a strange feeling came over him. He reached out and took her hand.
“Cordelia,” he sighed, unsure of what he was going to say next. Suddenly a shout rose behind him. Xander turned just in time to see a large man jump out of the shadows of some shrubs and grab Giles by the jacket. The attacker heaved a punch into Giles’ stomach.
Giles collapsed like a tent over the assailant’s arm. Swinging the limp body over his shoulder, the man turned to run for the darkness of the backyard. Both Cordelia and Xander could see by the yellow streetlight a contorted face and sharp fangs.
“Stay here,” Xander commanded and rushed after the fleeing vampire.
“As if,” Cordelia muttered, watching him run off. She ran to Giles’ car and flung open the passenger side door. Reaching into the back seat, she pulled out the duffel bag Giles’ kept for emergencies. Slinging the heavy sack over her shoulder she hobbled after Xander, catching a glimpse of him as he vaulted over the Thrumman’s back yard fence.
Xander came out on to the street behind the Thrumman house and looked both ways. The vampire was nowhere in sight. A slight movement caught his eye and he looked down at the wet pavement of the street. A circular sewer grate was being silently lowered into place.
Xander spun around at the sound of a crash behind him. Cordelia lay sprawled in a patch of ivy, trying to pull a duffel bag over the Thrumman fence.
“I told you to stay behind,” Xander hissed as he helped her to her feet.
“And just what were you planning to do if you caught up with the vampire, oh mighty slayer,” Cordelia said, reaching into Giles’ duffel bag. She slapped a stake into the palm of Xander’s right hand and a cross into his left. “Which way did he go?”
“He took the sewers. Is there a flashlight in that bag?” Xander said, striding over to the sewer grate.
“Just a pen light,” Cordelia said, pushing aside some garlic cloves to reach it.
Xander bent his knees and grabbed the grate with both hands, the blood rushing to his face as he strained to move it aside.
Moments later, Xander dropped down into a semi-circular tunnel. Cordelia shined the pen light around for him from above.
“All clear,” Xander said, after a moment. Cordelia carefully climbed down the rusty metal ladder to join him, balancing the duffel bag on her shoulder.
“Could this night get any worse?” she said, holding her nose.
A small greenish brook flowed down the center of the tunnel. Xander stood perfectly still, his head tilted as he listened intently. Far away to their right he heard a faint splashing.
“Come on,” he said, hurrying down the tunnel. “It’s up to us now, we’re everyone’s only hope.”
“But no pressure, right?” Cordelia rolled her eyes and tried to run after him as best she could in her sandals.
* * *
Angel slowed the horse to a trot as the landscape changed around them. They had left the rocky wastelands behind and were riding down into a green valley between two hills. The afternoon sun drifted through the hazy blue sky. A breeze puffed by them every now and then, sending the long blades of grass along the roadside whispering amongst themselves.
“Willow, how did we get here?” Angel asked finally, breaking the silence that had haunted them from the beginning of the trip.
“I don’t know,” the red head replied curtly. “I was studying with Buffy when there was a flash of light. That’s the last I remember.”
“Buffy,” Angel said, bending forward slightly and losing himself in thought. “The last thing I remember, Buffy and I were trying to keep the Judge from being assembled when we were ambushed. Buffy fell off the pier during the fight and we went back to my place to dry off. We --”
He fell silent and his hands gripped the reins tightly as if of some remembered pain. He shook his head.
“That’s it, that’s all I remember,” he said after a pause. He felt Willow stir behind him, her face pressing further into the back of his cloak. A moment later he realized she was weeping.
“You don’t know, do you?” she said between tears as he twisted in the saddle to look at her. “You don’t know what you’ve done.”
“Willow, what’s wrong?” Angel asked, a sudden tightness gripping his chest.
“That night -- the night you spent with Buffy,” Willow began, then faltered and started crying again.
“She told you?” Angel asked, not looking at Willow.
“It broke the curse on you,” Willow said, the words coming in a rush. “If you ever had a moment of pure happiness the curse was designed to break and you -- you....”
“How long?” Angel said in a strained whisper. “How long was I Angelus?”
“It’s been a couple of weeks now,” Willow said, wiping away tears with the dirty sleeve of her cloak.
“And I hurt Ms. Calendar?” he asked, looking into her eyes.
Willow opened her mouth, but she couldn’t force the words past her lips. Tears dropped from her chin into her hands.
They both heard the beat of hooves at the same time. Angel stiffened in the saddle and looked around Willow, swearing softly.
“What is it?” Willow asked, squinting at a cloud of dust that seemed to be steaming down the road towards them.
“Pursuit,” Angel answered. “Hang on!” Snapping the reins Angel urged his horse to a run. His stallion’s coat, however, already glistened from the hard ride out of the castle. It’s nostrils flared, gulping in and snorting out quick breaths.
“They’re gaining on us,” Willow warned him as they sped along the road. The hills melted away to flat farmland as they rode, and soon stalks of corn surrounded them on either side.
Something hissed by Angel’s face. He watched a crossbow bolt imbed itself in the road in front of him. More arrows fell down around him as he slapped his ankles against the flanks of his mount. There was a sudden cry behind him and Willow slumped forward against him, pressing him down.
“Willow? Willow, what’s wrong!” Angel yelled over his shoulder. He tightened his grip on the hands around his waist and began slapping the flanks of the horse, urging all possible speed from the mount.
A dark misty forest suddenly loomed up before him, rising like a ghost from the horizon. Without thinking he steered the horse towards it, while arrows rained down around him. It had been a long time since Angel had prayed, but he found that in this moment prayer came very easily. Willow still slumped against him, a dead weight on his shoulders. Angel forced the thought from his mind and concentrated on the mist shrouded oaks directly in front of him.
“Bobby, where are you?” Buffy called, wandering the deserted streets of the faerie village. She was quickly approaching the border of the town, where a strange fog always seemed to hang around the trees that surrounded the community.
Buffy was about to call Bobby’s name again when she nearly collided with a faerie that came speeding out of the forest towards her.
“What’s wrong?” Buffy asked, startled by the faerie sentry’s sudden appearance.
“Lord Angelus approaches,” the faerie called back to her without stopping.
Buffy felt her throat constrict as she watched the faerie zip to the park. Without waiting to see what the reaction to his message would be she plunged into the woods.
At first she was momentarily disoriented by the sudden change from light to darkness. Though the sun had been shining seconds ago, under the boughs of the thick- trunked oaks a sort of grey twilight reigned. Pushing on deeper into the forest, she stumbled upon two faeries, their bows drawn and golden arrows ready between their fingers.
Caelin flew up next to her, a short slender sword strapped to his side.
“How many men?” he asked the first sentry.
“At least six or seven,” the sentry replied, beating away the fog with his wings. “But things are strange....”
Buffy looked past the guards through the shifting mists and glimpsed a black rider charging towards them. Someone lay against his back, holding him in a loose embrace. As the horse galloped closer, the second rider’s grey hood fell away revealing loose red locks of hair.
“Don’t shoot!” Buffy said, interposing herself between the drawn bows of the faerie sentries and the looming form of Angel.
Angel’s horse exploded into the foggy oak grove, but pulled up short suddenly, nearly throwing Angel from the seat. Angel tried frantically to control the beast, yanking on the reins.
“What have you done to Willow!” Buffy shouted, stepping in front of the spooked horse.
“Buffy, you don’t understand,” Angel said, carefully dismounting and supporting Willow’s body as she slumped out of the saddle. A crossbow bold lay imbedded through the back of her shoulder and a dark brown stain was spreading across her cloak. Wrapping his arms gently under her neck and knees, he lay her gently down on her side.
“Look out!” Caelin cried. “To arms! To arms!”
Horsemen burst into the forest all around them, appearing like phantoms through the mist.
“Traitor!” screamed one clad in scale mail armor and slashed at Angel. Angel fell backwards away from the attack, the sword tearing through a piece of his black tunic. Magical darts hissed through the fog suddenly, like fireflies driven insane. Those men that were not knocked from their horses by the glowing arrows raised their crossbows and returned a volley.
Buffy dropped to the ground as the arrows arced through the air around her and crawled as best she could towards Willow. Angel unsheathed his sword and engaged the leader of the horsemen, drawing him away from Willow’s body. The steel blades met and sparked as Angel scrambled away from being trampled under the rider’s horse.
Buffy heard a high pitched battle cry somewhere behind her. The air became thick with the glitter of faerie bowshots. A shadow darted from behind a tree and ran between Angel and the leader of the horsemen.
“Bobby, no!” Buffy cried out as she stood up, heedless of the arrows buzzing around her.
The rider clad in scale mail suddenly leaned low and snatched Bobby by the back of his shirt. Bobby gave a small yelp and was hoisted over the saddle.
“Retreat!” the leader hollered as a bolt of light smashed into his sword arm, knocking his weapon away. Those horsemen that did not already lay unconscious on the ground spun their mounts around and fled from the forest, pursued by multi-colored darts of light. Buffy lunged at the leader of the horsemen as he turned to go. With one hand she grabbed the back of his saddle, her other hand straining to get a grip on the warrior’s armored leg.
With a short laugh, the horseman kicked out at Buffy, striking her in the chest. She collapsed to the ground, rolling over roots and dead leaves as the leader galloped away.
“Buffy, help!” she heard Bobby’s shrill voice call as the horse disappeared into the mist. Buffy clenched the damp dirt between her fingertips and slowly stood up.
She turned and stared coolly at Angel. He stood surrounded by faeries, their bows drawn and trained on his heart. He dropped his sword upon the ground and raised his hands above his head.
“Save your magic,” Buffy said to the faeries. “Your arrows won’t kill him.”
She knelt down next to Willow, closing her eyes and holding her breath while she felt for a pulse. A weak heartbeat drummed against her fingers.
“This my friend, the one I told you about,” Buffy explained to Caelin quickly. “She needs medical attention.”
“She will have the full benefit of Faerie Magic,” Caelin said. He and four other faeries raised Willow carefully into the air and raced off with her to the faerie village. Buffy watched them go, then stalked towards Angel. The ring of faeries parted to let her pass.
“Buffy, listen to me,” Angel said. “I’m not Angelus. I’m Angel again.”
Without a word, Buffy picked up Angel’s fallen sword. With a clean slice, she hacked off a slim branch from a nearby tree. Another slice left her with a crude six inch stake.
“This is between myself and Angelus,” Buffy said to the assembled faeries. “No one interfere.”
“Buffy, I didn’t want Willow to get hurt,” Angel said.
“Shut up,” Buffy hissed. “After what you’ve done to Giles and Ms. Calendar I ought to stake you right now. But first you’re going to help me get Bobby back.”
“Buffy --”
“Shut UP!” Buffy yelled, brandishing her stake. “Where are they taking him?”
“To Drusilla’s castle,” Angel replied, watching Buffy sadly.
“Can you take me there?” she asked.
“I can,” Angel replied. “Though we’ll run into Drusilla’s army halfway there. She’s planning an attack on the faerie village for tonight.”
The faerie warriors burst into talk, two of them hurrying off to find Caelin. Buffy waited patiently for the chatter to subside.
“I don’t care if we have to take on the entire country, we are going to rescue Bobby,” she said. “Get on your horse.”
“Wait!” Caelin called as he flew into the clearing. “I cannot allow you to go.”
“Drucilla has my friend,” Buffy replied. “I have no choice.”
“Lord Angelus has knowledge that may help save our village,” Caelin said sternly. “He must remain here so we can prepare for the Witch’s attack.”
A group of faeries materialized out of the mist behind Caelin. They aimed their bows at Buffy, their faces grim.
“I’m sorry,” Caelin said, “but this is the way things must be.”
Buffy grit her teeth and watched as the faeries escorted Angel out of the forest. Behind her, other faeries lifted the unconscious forms of the human warriors and deposited them back out into the sunshine of the grassy fields.
Buffy gazed out upon the green waves of grass, glowing in the afternoon sunlight, then looked back at Angelus and frowned. She hurried to catch up with the departing escort.
“How did you ride here through the daylight?” she asked as she drew up next to Angel.
“I told you. I’m human again,” Angel said, glancing at her out of the corners of his eyes.
Buffy was silent as they strode out into the sunlight of the faerie village. She watched carefully to see what would happen to Angel.
“What did I do that was so terrible, Buffy?” Angel asked. “Why do you hate me so much now?”
Buffy met his intense gaze. There was a haunted look in his eyes that she had never seen before. The sunlight beaded against his pale skin, and a light sweat still covered his brow from the fighting. She noticed for the first time the bloody bandage wrapped around his left hand.
“You murder Ms. Calendar, and you have the gall to ask me that?” Buffy said gazing at him with unflinching eyes.
Angel froze in place, his eyes widening into white pools. The faerie escort drew their curved daggers in alarm, but Angel paid no attention to them. He stumbled as if pushed and fell to one knee looking at the ground yet seeming to stare right through it. One hand clutched at his chest as though he couldn’t breath. Buffy watched his reaction, frozen in place.
“I’m sorry Buffy,” he said finally, his voice soft yet strained. He looked up at her and Buffy’s voice caught in her throat. Tears etched lonesome trails over Angel’s cheekbone. “I didn’t know.”
“Angel?” Buffy asked, taking a hesitant step towards him. Her numb hands dropped the wooden stake.
“Oh God Buffy, I’m so sorry,” Angel said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.” More tears fell to the ground as he squeezed his eyes shut.
Buffy threw her arms around him, her heart aching.
“No, Angel, its not your fault,” she said, hugging him close. “It wasn’t you.” His arms closed around her and his body was wracked with sobs. Buffy felt hot tears sting her eyes.
The faeries stood around them, looking at each other in bewilderment. Buffy forgot they were even there. She was too busy trying to calm the burning joy and fierce pain of her heart.
Drucilla giggled as she watched the tiny white lightening bolts arc from one hand to the other. Muttering a few more words of an incantation she pointed at the fireplace stacked with logs and kindling. A thin bolt of lightening split the air and ignited the wood with a loud snap. Soon a roaring fire crackled in the hearth.
Three knocks came on her study room door. Dru pointed her finger, still ringed with sparks, at the wooden frame with a mischievous grin, then thought better of it and simply called, “Come in.”
The leader of the group she had sent to capture Angel had returned.
“Well?” Dru asked. “Where is he?”
“Escaped into the faerie forest, milady,” the man removed his bronze helmet and bowed his head. “We pursed and engaged the faeries as best we could, but were overwhelmed by their sentries. I lost four men in the battle. However, the escaped prisoner was severely wounded by a crossbow bolt during the fight. She may even now be dead.”
“So in other words you don’t know for sure and you failed completely,” Dru said, her eyebrows contracting into sharp mountain peaks.
“Not completely milady,” the man swallowed and hastily reached out into the hall. “There were human children in the faerie forest. I grabbed this one before retreating.”
The man dragged Bobby into the room. The little boy stared open mouthed at the room with its shelves of books and adornments of human skulls. Dru looked thoughtfully at him.
“There was another girl, a young whelp with golden hair that tried to stop me from taking this one,” the rider spoke. “She was unusually brave and strong, but no match for myself.”
“Excellent,” Dru said, her face breaking into a smile. She bent her knees and lowered herself to Bobby’s height. “Come here, little boy,” she smiled.
“I wanna go home,” the boy said stubbornly, glancing apprehensively between the guard and Drucilla.
“That’s where I’m going to take you,” Dru said with a soothing voice. “I’m an old friend of Buffy’s. We go way back.”
Bobby hesitantly took a few steps forward. Dru extended her hand and he took it gingerly. Smiling, Dru stood and turned to the horsemen.
“Ready the men,” she commanded. “We march on the faerie village at once.”
* * *
Xander crouched low and stalked down the sewer passageway, a cross and stake gripped firmly in each hand. He walked carefully, trying to avoid slipping on the green slime that collected in pools on the floor. Cordelia held the pen light over his shoulder, disturbing the darkness ahead of them with its dim light.
“Now what?” Cordelia asked as the tunnel ended abruptly in a T-intersection. Water flowed past them in the channel, coursing from their left to their right. A small walkway to the side of the channel extended in either direction.
“This way,” Xander said, examining a fresh muddy print leading upstream.
The water rushed beside them as they continued on their way.
“Look!” Cordelia pointed as something flashed into the wavering circle of the flashlight.
“Giles’ glasses,” Xander said, picking them up off the cold cement and placing them in his jacket pocket. “We must be getting close.”
* * *
A large crowd of faeries were gathered in the park as Buffy and Angel’s entourage approached. The wounded of the battle had been laid out on the grass. Buffy was dismayed to discover that two of the bodies had sheets pulled fully over them. She broke into a run and pushed her way through the faeries that milled about aimlessly.
“Where’s Willow?” she demanded of a faerie guard with dark hair and a long nose. The guard pointed over to a body shrouded in grey clothes. Two female faeries, dressed in pure white robes stood over her, waving their hands slowly from Willow’s head to her feet. Although the girl’s face was ashen, Buffy was relieved to see her chest rise and fall steadily with each breath.
“Will she be okay?” Buffy asked the one of the faerie doctors. Her associate continued her motions, a soft pink glow surrounding her hand while the doctor turned to talk to Buffy.
“We’ve removed the crossbow bolt and are repairing the damage as best we can with our healing magic,” she said. “She was lucky that no vital organs were damaged.”
Nibbles suddenly crashed through the crowd, spiraling through the air on her wings, and gripped Buffy around the neck.
“I don’t wanna play this game anymore,” she wailed. “This isn’t fun. I want my mommy!”
“She’s been this way since she saw your red-headed friend brought in wounded,” Caelin apologized as he flew up to Buffy.
Buffy hugged the Faerie Queen and bounced her gently up and down, trying to soothe her.
“We’re going to be okay, Nibbles,” she said in soft voice. “We’re going to get through this, but I need you to be a strong little girl, alright?”
“But the pretty girl got hurt! And where’s Bobby?” Nibbles cried. “Can’t we go home? Can’t we stop playing now?”
“Willow’s going to be just fine,” Buffy said. “You have to listen to me very carefully, though, or else other people might get hurt. Are you going to listen to me?”
Nibbles nodded, trying to hold in her sobs. Buffy rubbed the little girl’s head and smiled, then looked to Caelin.
“I need every faerie in the village gathered here and silent within the next few minutes,” Buffy said. Looking over her shoulder, she watched as the sun descended towards the treetops of the protective forest. “We don’t have much time.”
“I’ll begin immediately, but may I ask why?” Caelin asked.
“The Queen is preparing to go to war,” Buffy replied.
* * *
Willow opened her eyes and stared into a dark boiling clouds high above. She yawned and tried to stretch her body when a white-robed person floated into view, hovering on thin crystal wings.
“I thought angel wings had feathers,” Willow said. “And where’s your harp?”
The small woman raised her eyebrows.
“Willow!” Buffy cried out happily and came running over the grass to her.
“Oh no, Buffy, you’re dead too?!?” Willow asked.
“No one’s dead, Willow,” Buffy replied with a smile and helped the girl to her feet. They hugged each other in silence for a full minute.
“What about all these angels?” Willow said when she finally released Buffy.
“They’re not angels -- they’re faeries,” Buffy corrected her.
“Oh, right. That would explain the wings,” Willow nodded and watched as the little people dashed back and forth through the village. Some carried wooden boards while others held hands in a circle and chanted strange words. Brief flashes of light illuminated corners of the village.
“What’s going on?” Willow asked.
“It’s a long story, but there’s about to be a battle,” Buffy answered.
Far away in the west thunder rumbled. The clouds began to take on the appearance of rolling mounds of charcoal. Caelin winged through the chaos of the village and approached Willow and Buffy.
“Hello, I’m Willow,” Willow beamed and extended a hand. “I’ve never met a faerie before.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Caelin said, shaking her hand absently and talking to Buffy. “The Queen’s orders have been carried out. However, the faeries involved in making the defenses have expended too much magic. I doubt they will be able to use their bows when they enemy arrives.”
“Let’s hope our plan works well enough that we won’t need them,” Buffy replied. “Could you take my friend to the Mushroom Palace? Nibbles will be glad to see her up and around.”
“This is some plan you’ve come up with General,” a voice said behind Buffy as she watched Caelin and Willow leave. She turned and smiled at Angel, once again wearing his jewel decorated sword at his belt.
“I’m just glad the faeries agreed to release you,” Buffy replied.
“Actually they still seem a little dubious about the prospect,” Angel replied, catching some dark glances from a group of faeries that hurried by. “If the Queen hadn’t ordered my release I don’t think they would have been so generous.”
“We owe this plan to your information,” Buffy said.
“I’m sorry I don’t know more about the attack,” Angel said.
“Believe me, what you did know was more than enough,” Buffy said, looking around to make sure all the preparations were going smoothly. A flash of lightening lit up the sky, followed seconds later by the dull roar of thunder.
Buffy walked up to Angel. He ran a finger down the side of her face and smiled at her.
“I missed you,” she said, her voice husky.
“You have to promise me something Buffy,” Angel said. The wind picked up, whipping around them as he spoke. “If we get out of here someday and I turn back into Angelus... you have to promise to kill me.”
“I don’t want to think about that now,” Buffy said, turning away from him. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her back to face him.
“Promise,” he said sternly. Then his face softened. “I can’t live with the guilt Buffy. And if I change back I can’t end it myself. Promise me.”
Buffy stared deep into Angel’s eyes. The storm was threatening to break all around them.
“I promise,” she whispered so softly that the wind nearly carried her words away before Angel heard them. His hand slipped around the back of her neck and he drew her forward. Their lips pressed together softly and Buffy wrapped her arms around him.
Horns blared outside the Western edge of the village. Those faeries that were armed or armored scrambled towards the misty forest while the remaining children and unarmed faeries rushed to their mushroom huts.
“This is it,” Angel said. “Be careful.”
“You too,” Buffy replied. She watched Angel rush off to take his position while she tried to swallow her heart.
Giles tried to remain calm as his head swayed sickeningly back and forth over the vampire’s shoulder. He guessed they were in some sort of sewer by the smell and the sounds of rushing water, though the tunnel itself was pitch black. He could only hope anyone trying to find him would discover the pair of glasses he had let drop from his pocket some ten minutes ago.
The vampire stopped and groped in the dark for a moment. Giles heard the soft click of a switch being flipped. Light burst into Giles’ eyes and he was dumped unceremoniously on the dank floor.
As the spots faded from his vision, Giles made out the image of the vampire towering over him. A single light bulb, rigged to hang from the ceiling by an orange extension cord, shed light on a rusty but well used ladder.
“Climb,” the vampire growled. “Spike wants you alive but not necessarily all in one piece, so no funny business. Got it?”
“Yes, quite,” Giles blinked, trying to make out the blurry image of the ladder rungs.
The vampire climbed up directly behind Giles. The ladder ended some ten feet from the bottom of the tunnel at a wooden door. Giles pushed on it and found it opened readily into a dimly lit chamber. He climbed up into a room laden with broken machinery parts and scorched boxes.
“The warehouse,” he breathed in recognition.
“Do you like what we’ve done with the place?” Spike’s voice boomed out from a corner of the room. He wheeled himself to a blackened wooden table, laden with various vials, flasks, and carved goblets. “We have you to thank for the design, actually.”
The vampire that had kidnapped Giles climbed out of the tunnel and shoved him towards Spike.
“What do you want with me?” Giles asked, squinting around. He made out two more shadowy forms on the other side of the table.
“I need you to read this,” Spike said, pointing at the heavy book on his lap, “so that we can get everyone out of the storybook to slay the Slayer.”
He held out the book with both hands to Giles. Giles opened the book and held it in front of his face at varying distances, trying to make out the words. Finally, he laid the book on the table and turned back to Spike.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you,” he said. “Without my glasses I can’t read a damned thing.”
A servant vampire grabbed Giles by the neck and slammed his head into the book, holding him there. Spike rolled his wheelchair up until he was nose to nose with the wincing librarian.
“I’m afraid you don’t have a damned choice,” Spike said pleasantly.
* * *
Drucilla’s hands danced in the air as she chanted, the howling wind whirling her red dress and cape around her. Lightening flashed in the blackened sky overhead, shining off the cold steel of nearly one hundred warriors. They watched in total silence as faint light specks began to gather around Drucilla’s hand. The tiny specks danced and darted about with the flashes of lightening until they surrounded each soldier in turn, forming a glittering shield. Bobby cowered in terror against the mane of Drucilla’s white horse, the storm and the strange lights filling him with dread.
Without warning the light specks winked out and Drucilla shouted above the roll of thunder.
“You are now protected from faerie magic! Remember, do not torch or burn anything in the village. We must have the secrets of the faeries intact. Go now and take what is rightfully ours so we may live in wealth and without care for the rest of our lives!”
The voices of the assembled men boomed out over the grassy plains just outside the faerie forest. They charged towards the foggy tree line as the first large drops of warm rain began to fall around them.
The twenty horsemen reached the edge of the forest first. Faerie arrows suddenly spit from between the trunks of the trees, flashing against darkness. The horsemen laughed and the foot soldiers cheered as the arrows bounced harmlessly off of invisible magic shells. The arrows stopped falling abruptly as the horsemen entered the forest. They reined in their horses and waited for the rest of the troops to follow, talking idly amongst themselves with absolutely no fear.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Go!” Drucilla commanded as she rode under the canopy of leaves with the bulk of the forces. The misty forest was strangely quiet and they saw no sign of the faeries as they progressed. No rain fell within the confines of the forest and the thunder of the storm echoed to them as if from far away. The army fell silent, gripping their weapons and eyeing the trees suspiciously.
Shouts sounded suddenly from behind the group.
“Damn this mist,” Dru hissed. She could hear the ring of steel but the strange fog obscured the rear guard of her troops.
Seeing her distracted, Bobby tried to slip off the horse. A thin hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck before he could swing his leg over.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Dru asked icily.
“To see Buffy,” Bobby replied, stuttering at the cold touch of her hands.
“You’ll see her soon enough,” Dru replied. “Stay put.”
A messenger ran out of the mists towards Dru, his cloak tattered and his armor smeared with blood.
“The faeries were hiding in the long grass fields as we passed,” he gasped. “They attacked from behind and even now duel with the rear vanguard.”
“Take a squad of twenty men and go back there,” Dru commanded the leader of the horsemen. Before the men had broken ranks, however, rainbow colored lights hissed down around them. Some of the men flinched instinctively, raising their shields against the faerie bolts.
The arrows were not aimed at the soldiers, however. They cut through barely visible ropes that had been tied around sweeping branches. The forest came alive around the army as the branches, freed from their bonds, lashed out towards them at great speed.
Dru cursed and pulled Bobby down against the back of the horse as a thick branch narrowly missed her face. The men were shouting and running in all directions as branches knocked their comrades to the ground.
Heavy rocks suddenly began falling with great force from above, ringing off helm and armor. Some soldiers backed themselves against the trunks of the trees, trying desperately to shield their heads with their arms.
“Head for the village, quickly!” Dru shouted above the chaos. “Out of the forest!”
Her men needed no further urging. Some even cast away their weapons and pieces of armor in order to run faster through the gnarled trees. The mists fell away without warning and the men stumbled into a heavy rainstorm. The dark shadows of giant mushrooms loomed ahead of them between lightening bursts.
A ragged cheer broke through the disheveled group and they charged towards the mushroom structures. The cheers quickly turned to shouts of fear, however, as the earth opened up and swallowed them. Faeries darted out from behind the buildings to throw weighted nets over the men who fell into the concealed pits.
Dru emerged from the forest to find her own troops running back towards her. She spoke a word of magic and pointed at the sky. A brilliant ball of light suddenly appeared, hovering over the village. Through the rain, Dru could make out the tarp covered pits the faeries had dug in a semi-circle about the village. A small group of faeries were making their way towards her. At that same moment, the rear vanguard burst into the clearing. Faeries darted in and out of the group, stabbing their thin knives at the men with quick thrusts.
“Gather around me!” Dru shrieked. She pointed a finger at one of the faeries and uttered a brief spell. A thin lightening bolt crackled out and struck the faerie down. She continued pointing, unleashing threads of light that carved deadly arcs across the battleground.
“Dru!” a call came from her left. Drucilla snapped her head around and watched as Angel slapped a sword out of one of her soldier’s hands and sent him running for the forest. Angel turned toward her and spoke. “Let the boy go.”
Drucilla laughed and pointed her finger at Angel, sparks crackling down her wrist. Angel jumped to the side, but the lightening bolt lanced into his shoulder and sent him tumbling to the ground.
“It’s been fun Angel,” she called to him as he struggled to stand. “But I think it’s time to bid adieu.”
Dru lowered her finger at Angel with a brief smile. She suddenly gave a shrill scream, however, as Bobby sank his teeth into her arm. The lightening bolt intended for Angel snapped harmlessly across the grass behind him, leaving a scorched trail.
“You little leech!” Dru hissed, wrapping her fingers around Bobby’s throat. “I think it’s time for you to die.”
“Think again,” a voice said as a hand gripped her wrist, forcing Dru to release Bobby.
“Buffy!” the boy yelled with a smile and slid of the horse. Dru tried furiously to free her wrist.
“I’ll be with you in a second Bobby,” Buffy said. “I just have to take out the trash.”
Swinging around she yanked Drucilla from the horse and sent her flying through the air.
“You’re not so tough without your vampire strength, are you?” Buffy said. She watched in amazement, however, as Drucilla slowed her descent in mid-air. Dru turned around and gave piercing scream of rage as she hovered above the ground. Raising her hands into the air, she floated on a sudden gust of wind high up above the battlefield.
Drucilla’s orb of light illuminated the bellies of the black clouds above them. As Dru continued to rant, the clouds began to collapse in on themselves and slowly rotated around each other. Thunder deafened the combatants as multiple lightening strikes set the roofs of the mushroom houses ablaze. Dru’s own soldiers began fleeing in groups towards the forest as hail and rain bombarded them.
“If I can’t have the faerie magic,” Dru screamed from above the village, “no one can!”
The swirling clouds spun faster and faster, and a dull roar pressed down from the sky as they collapsed into a whirling funnel.
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