“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” Xander said as he looked out over the two-acre lot designed to look like a cemetery.
“It’s different now,” Willow said. “We tell the slayers ahead of time what we’re doing and we monitor the whole thing so it can’t get out of hand.”
“I’m not talking about that. Although I still think the crucifixion-”
“Cruciamentum,” Willow corrected.
“Whatever. It’s a bad idea, too. But this . . . do you think she’s ready.”
“That’s what we’re going to find out.”
Xander dropped into the pit. “Easy for you to say from up there,” he said sarcastically.
“Don’t worry, Xander. We have everything under control.”
“Easy for you to say from up there,” he repeated in the same sarcastic tone. He walked nervously throughout the faux cemetery. “Unleash the hounds!”
Several of the tombs opened and the area became full of people and vampires stalking about. Xander, Rona, Kennedy, and Andrew were playing the part of innocent bystanders. The vampires were the aggressors. And then there was the subject of the test.
Dana Johnson walked throughout the area, unsure whether this was reality or another horrible dream. After all, many of the elements seemed surreal. The night sky above was actually the ceiling of a cavern. The tombstones and mausoleums were made of plaster. And she, as always, was filled with a kind of dread and foreboding.
Unlike other slayers who underwent the Cruciamentum, a test of slayers upon their eighteenth birthday, Dana was not drugged. Giles had agreed that it would be enough for Dana to prove her mental stability in battle. Besides, Dana’s reaction to needles was, as Willow put it, not of the good.
Without hesitation or consideration, Dana plunged her arm out, dusting a vampire attacking her from behind. She spun, giving a high sweeping kick that knocked another vamp to the ground. She staked it and moved on.
“How’s she doing?” Giles asked as he stepped up next to Willow.
“So far so good.”
Xander, despite every urge to do the opposite, stepped toward the fray.
“Well,” Giles said as he watched from the platform above. “We’ll know for sure soon enough.”
The vamps crowded in around Dana and she became a flurry of action. A series of kicks and back flips got her free of the crowd. She shoved faux bystanders Rona and Kennedy out of the way. Her touch was by no means soft, but she was nonetheless effective. She quickly staked the three vamps.
Seeing Xander, she grabbed him and slammed him against a crypt. It was poorly made and cracked.
“Willow!” Giles said anxiously.
“Just wait,” Willow insisted.
“Xander,” Dana hissed, memories from Buffy flooding her mind. She shoved him aside, spun, and staked an approaching vamp. The area was now clear.
Willow bounded down into the training ground, beaming with confidence. “We did it!”
“Inconclusive,” Giles called as he strolled into the grounds behind Willow.
Willow looked at Kennedy. “Can you take Dana back to the cafeteria?”
Kennedy nodded uncomfortably. “Come on, Dana.”
“Still chock full of uncomfortable badness, huh?” Xander asked.
Willow shrugged. “She’ll be back on assignment soon. Then it’ll be better. Or at least long-distance uncomfortable badness.”
“Watcher-slayer relations are always complicated,” Xander said consolingly. “Look at Wood and Faith.”
Willow made a yuk face. “No thanks.” She turned to face Giles as the senior watcher finally caught up to her. “What did you mean inconclusive?”
“She recognized him, Willow. We still have no idea how she’ll function around innocent bystanders she doesn’t know.”
“Fine,” Will said. “Maybe we could grab some of the watchers in training. Get them to-”
“Absolutely not,” Giles said. “We’ve wasted enough time-”
“Wasted?” Xander cut in. “Dana’s made huge progress.”
“Yes,” Giles said. “With concentrated effort, Dana has made some progress. But in that amount of time with that amount of attention, another slayer could have made ten times as much progress. In the larger picture, this experiment has been a waste of resources.”
“She’s a girl, Giles,” Xander said. “A slayer. Not a waste of resources.”
Willow smiled inwardly. It was nice to see Xander grow more confident.
Giles looked at his watch. “Weapons class for college-age slayers begins in five minutes.”
Xander frowned and headed out of the pen.
“I’m sorry,” Giles said, setting a consoling hand on Willow’s shoulder. “I truly am. I know how you feel about Dana. I can’t say I feel much differently, to tell the truth. But Willow, there are greater things at stake her.”
“I understand,” Willow nodded.
*
Xander stepped into the classroom and set his book bag down. “Settle down girls. I know it’s hard to stay calm with such a ruggedly handsome teacher, but my good looks won’t keep you safe in the field of battle.” Xander raised his arm and a stake shot out from his sleeve. “This, however, will.”
The Watcher’s Academy was a tremendous complex in Montana. Between its buildings and grounds, it was roughly the size of Los Angeles. And that didn’t include the subterranean areas.
Xander Harris served as one of the instructors for weapons and tactics. Willow, of course, taught magic. Giles served as headmaster and a kind of watcher of watchers. There were many other classes and instructors. Watchers and slayers didn’t take them all. At the moment, the goal was to pump out slayers and watchers as quickly as possible.
As Xander began his lecture on building, maintaining, and using wrist-mounted stakes, Willow stormed through the hallway. She entered the large outer office that Xander shared with the other Weapons & tactics instructor.
“Riley,” Willow said. “I need your help.”
“With what?” Riley asked as he worked on repairing an old Initiative-issue tazer rifle.
“You used to say sure, no problem,” Willow pouted.
“You’ve gotten me in trouble enough times that I’ve learned a little. What do you need?”
“A phone number.”
“Any phone number?” Riley said with his farm boy grin.
“I need . . . I need the number of one of our weapons suppliers.”
Riley tensed. “Not to be rude, but . . . why?”
“I think he can help me with something other than weapons.”
“Oh. Because I thought you were . . . you know . . . gay.”
Willow rolled her eyes. “Why is it men always think . . . can you give me the number or not?”
“Some of them are picky about strangers calling them. Who do you want?”
“The Mechanical Engineering student at Stanford.”
Riley grimaced. “He really doesn’t like strangers calling him. In fact, he doesn’t even like me and Xander calling him. He only puts up with it because we’re basically paying his tuition.”
“Makes good stuff, huh?”
Riley raised his wrist. It had a long metal tube strapped to it. The tube was a long barrel, like one would find on a rifle. Riley squeezed and three small wooden bullets fired from it.
“He makes great stuff.” Riley said, removing the weapon. “So, what do you need with him?”
“Dana. Giles doesn’t want Xander or me sinking any ore time into her. But I think I get it now. Giles, Faith, and I can’t help Dana because we were tempted to evil by power. Dana’s not tempted by power. She’s not really even evil. She’s just . . .”
“Damaged,” Riley said.
Willow nodded. “We don’t need someone who’s recovered from evil to help her. We know someone who’s been where Dana is.”
“Why do you think this kid at Stanford’s been there?”
Willow bit her lip. She hated hiding things from her friends, but the secret she kept wasn’t her own. “I’m asking for a favor, Riley. Please.”
***
Willow rolled the phone number in her hand at least a dozen times. She still wondered about using it. She even considered calling the kid’s father for permission.
“What the hell. The kid’s legal.” Willow dialed. After a couple rings, she was greeted by voicemail.
“You’ve reached the room of Ozzie Paxton and Connor Reilly. If you’d like to leave a message, you can do that now. If you’d like to prank call us, you’ll have to try back again later.”
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