The Deeper Well was silent as the Old Ones slept on unaware of the turmoil above and the encroaching ice age of Novica's rule. All but one who waited. She waited for the sign. Far below the bridge in the coolly lit tunnel which divided the earth, a dim light shone redly from a glittering ruby.
Hear me.
Fred looked dimly over the railings and felt the breeze prick at her cheeks where fresh tears still trickled. Her breath came in slow shallow bursts, her heart aching with incomprehensible grief. As she watched a tear fell from her face and down through the earth.
It fell and fell until a ruby sparkled with moisture and its light grew strong.
Levinia was rising.
From the heart of LA the darkness spilled thickly like liquid and the struggling grey light retreated further from the city. It was winter now over California and it would only be days before the cold would spread further, reaching out across the states to Texas and beyond. The news networks were stunned, sending reporters and cameras to each city, fighting with the weather to reach their destinations and shoot their story. Snowmen lined the suburbs and sledges whipped down hills. Snow piled high, wind drove blizzards. Airports closed. Roads were inaccessible. Ice draped its claws over buildings and dangled in crystals from roofs, and the curiosity which filled the residents of the mid west was quickly replaced by apprehension. LA had been dead and silent for weeks, and now that death was spreading. Adults lost track of the seasons and days, children stopped playing in the streets and behind frozen windows their faces peered out with fear at this new cold world.
Deep in the Cotswolds the Deeper Well was peaceful the landscape above it unremarkable and welcoming. A meadow of rich grass sparsely populated with trees stretched back towards a forest filled with life and birdsong, oblivious to the graveyard below where Illyria's essence lay entombed. Early spring sat mildly in the English countryside but even as nature went about her business the landscape changed. With a slow movement like the trickle of water or the steady rise of the moon the woods grew cold. The dew which lay undisturbed on the meadow began to glitter with frost and above the oak which marked the Deeper Well the sky became dark. With frightened calls the birds flew upwards and away, their instincts driving them from their sheltered branches and in their hurry they abandoned the eggs and chicks they nurtured. Their babies' high cries echoed painfully across the meadow until at last they fell silent in bitter death.
From the depths of the Well Novica emerged unscathed by battle and the world froze hard around him. He looked cheerfully at the morning spread before him and with a sweep of his arm drove the light from the day. The first few snowflakes fell cautiously from the sky and settled on his human face, retaining their individual form, unmelted on his skin. It had been an unfortunate distraction, this detour to England, but it had its benefits. Illyria was gone, one less annoyance, one less deluded creature trying to prevent his destiny. Without their very own Old One, Team Lorne over in LA would be even more at a loss. He wanted so badly to play with them, until they were so exhausted they practically handed him that soul. He'd been so close to getting it, if he had only had another moment before Illyria smashed that glass and severed his distant hold on it. He had begun to taste its power but it had struggled hard to
remain within the Slayer. Another few seconds and he would have tasted it completely, he would have fulfilled the prophecy and the world around him would by now be empty of souls. Now he had to find it again.
Disgruntled he reached out with his mind to the Lost Ones who served as his eyes, it felt like falling, hurtling down a narrow channel before their sight hit him. Several dozen were drifting blankly in their cage, their vision lighting on nothing in particular but sending him images of his followers and demons. His mind took another direction, rushing hard down a path that led to Spike, somewhere dark on the outskirts of LA. He was moving fast, alarm beating hard in his chest. Novica raised his eyebrows and sent out a quick enquiry only to be met with a harsh and foul mouthed rebuke. The vampire was shaken and in no mood to have his thoughts played with. Novica frowned and ordered him back to the destroyed Wolfram and Hart building. He'd deal with whatever ailed him there. Finally he swung his inner eye towards Miranda. With Spike fleeing from the scene he had no choice to rely on the empty vessel he had sent to siphon off the soul. He felt the rush again as he hurtled towards her eyes and then…
'Ow!' his voice was high and indignant, the only sound in the frozen meadow. He concentrated and pushed again, the rush towards the eyes. 'Ow!' he repeated. He raised one hand and rubbed his brow pityingly. There was something stopping him, something inside the Lost One which drew up barriers like drawbridges and held out hard against his efforts. Closing his eyes in concentration he approached again with more caution and the thing within Miranda pulsed warningly in his direction. Novica smiled softly.
I see you, he voiced at the being. I see you little soul. The power behind the barrier hit out suddenly, a jet of protective anger which sent the Old One tumbling back towards his consciousness in the Cotswolds field. He reeled slightly and then let out a high laugh.
'Interesting!' he said to himself, his mood restored once more, and he opened the Shadow Path to LA.
-- --
'Found some!' the little boy trotted merrily down the cold paving slabs which covered the church aisle. His footsteps rang out noisily and their echo bounced off the high ceiling and ornate windows of their temporary shelter.
'Well, aren't you just a little wonder!' Lorne praised. Toby staggered forward the last few steps to where Lorne waited for him, propped on a pew with a kneeling cushion at his back. The child dropped an armful of thick candles into his lap, the last slithering uncontrolled from his grip and rolling with a crash under the wooden seat. He immediately dived for it as it ran away down the unseen incline of the church floor. Lorne watched him scuttle off with a cautionary 'Don't run off too far back there it's dark!'
He smiled softly, each time he looked at the kid he felt such a rush of relief that he'd got through to at least one of them, one Lost One saved, about a hundred more to go. His smile fell, probably more by now, Novica drank from them every day, there had to be hundreds, maybe thousands. The sadness reached his eyes and his dropped his head, shifting uncomfortably in his place. His wound was healed but the ghost of the arrow still pierced his
back. He began to stack the candles by his side, they needed all they could find to fight back the growing darkness which had fallen over the cemetery outside with frightening rapidity. And it was cold. Horribly cold.
Movement and Sasha sat by him, slipping one arm over his stomach and looking up sadly into his face.
'Still smarting?' she asked of his injury.
'Uh-huh, you?'
Her eyes swung to the altar where Aviline stood pensively, her frail borrowed body weak from Miranda's neglect. She stood with her arms folded tight around her and her head bowed so that her features were obscured by the mane of auburn hair which cascaded over her shoulders. Sasha felt her emotions churn uncomfortably and nodded a hesitant answer to
Lorne's enquiry. Her physical injuries were more or less taken from her by Aviline's power but she didn't know where to begin with the deeper wound her child left behind.
Lorne cast his eyes over Sasha's profile.
'It's not quite how we pictured it is it? I mean with the apocalypse and all I wasn't expecting a private room in a nice clean hospital but I was kinda expecting a baby,' he followed Sasha's line of sight to where their daughter stood. Sasha swallowed hard trying to steady her voice.
'It'll be OK. I mean, she's ours right. Her soul is ours even if her body is…'
Lorne caught her thought and squeezed her shoulder. 'Oh she's ours alright, and she's pretty amazing. Been here not an hour and already brought both of us back to life and saved the day. Definite slayer genes there…' his brightness was only partially false and his voice was tinged with pride.
'It's you she reminds me of,' Sasha said quietly.
'That's kind of inevitable, her being green and all.' Lorne smiled bashfully. 'At least she didn't get my horns.'
'Maybe she would have,' Sasha said, her voice faint, 'If she'd been born instead of ripped from me, if she'd had a chance to…'
Lorne shushed her gently and drew her closer to him. 'We could have lost her completely, we thought we had remember, she's here and that's all that matters right now. She's here and she's got a heck of a lot to try and deal with what with being born and being so special. Now it's our job to be there for her…' he looked deeply into his daughter's aura and sensed the damage painfully. He swallowed, suddenly filled with uncertainty. It was too early, it was too soon and he wasn't sure she would survive it. 'It'll be OK,' he said more to himself than to Sasha.
A clatter of feet and Toby was up and running again, right for Aviline whose back straightened at the sound. Keeping her arms clasped around her she turned cheerfully, her smile so strikingly reminiscent of Lorne's that Sasha couldn't help but smile in return as she caught her eye.
'What?!' Aviline asked Toby, laughing, 'What is it?'
'Come see come see!' he jumped enthusiastically, 'I found toys!'
'Toys?' she frowned with curiously, but even from his seat Lorne could see her eyes light up just a little.
'We have to remember she's a child,' he whispered to Sasha, 'She has the same growing up to do as any other, the same experiences to gleam from the world. We can still give her some of those.'
Sasha nodded against him and watched as Toby grew impatient and began dancing on the spot.
'Out the back! Lots of toys, animals and people!' and then he grabbed for her hand. He was so quick Aviline couldn't react and dodge him and as his little fingers closed over hers she yelped and drew away. Toby looked frightened and cowered and Lorne was on his feet immediately. With wide red eyes mirroring his, Aviline looked up at him and started to back away towards the altar again, hiding her hands behind her back like a guilty child.
'Sweetie?' Lorne began moving closer, 'Did you hurt yourself?'
Aviline looked left and right for some sort of escape but saw only Toby's fear and Sasha's concern further back in the church. Hesitantly she brought her hands out in front of her, slowly turning them so that the palms faced upwards.
'I didn't know it would hurt,' she said as Lorne looked down. 'I would have done it anyway, if I'd known,' she added quickly, 'but I didn't. Don't be mad. I didn't want to leave you there like that… I thought I could help.'
Softly Lorne cupped the backs of her hands in his and looked down over the angry blisters which scarred her palms.
'When you healed us…' he said.
'It burned.' Aviline looked at him apologetically. 'I didn't know it would do that. I'm not ready yet. I'm not whole. I'm waiting.'
Lorne frowned in reply and pushed his feelings of alarm to one side. She was hurt, that was all that mattered.
'What are you?' Toby asked innocently his eyes wandering in awe over her face and burned hands. The question lay heavy in the stillness of the church, and it was Sasha who heard it the loudest. As she stood apart from her new family she watched as Lorne reached out and pushed the hair behind Aviline's ear, cupping her face and reassuring her that he'd sort it all out, sending Toby to the font for some water. A bitter jet of feeling hit Sasha's guts, as the little boy ran past her, somewhere between love and envy and drenched in a gnawing and unrelenting suspicion.
Shame clouded her feelings and she sat heavily on the pew. How could she feel this way towards the being she had carried so briefly, the little life she'd felt ripped from her and all the pain that it left behind. Sasha thought of the glow in her belly and the joy and strength it had brought her. There was no evil there. Things were muddled and frightening right now but it wasn't the fault of the baby, of Aviline. She shook her head and looked back with warmth at her daughter and Lorne, trying hard to make everything fit.
-- --
'You must eat,' the Keeper moved stiffly to Fred's side and crouched against the wall. With one hand he offered a bowl filled with porridge.
'Collenberries,' Fred mumbled, 'It tastes no good without collenberries.' A giggle escaped her and she clapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes lifted slowly to where Illyria's
sarcophagus sat squatly, heavy and lifeless with the old one sealed within. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered.
'You are weak, please try to eat,' the Keeper persisted, taking her small hands and wrapping them around the bowl. He extracted a spoon and placed it in the mixture, pointing its handle towards Fred hopefully but her eyes remained fixed on Illyria's casket.
'She can't come back,' Fred said.
'No, the rituals state…'
Fred ignored his explanation. The truth of Illyria's' demise was vibrant within her. Her link to the demon was still viable, faint and useless but still intact. She sensed Illyria's end and she knew within that she could not return.
'You cannot stay here,' The Keeper said gently, his own voice tired and fragile, 'This is no place for a human being, you belong with your friends and your family.'
'I have no family.'
The Keeper raised his eyebrows in surprise.
'I have no friends,' Fred went on her eyes dry, 'I had her… I thought she had taken everything from me when she consumed me but I was wrong. '
'Then go back to them, you have people waiting for you and the shadow paths will take you there,' he looked earnestly at her face. He had spent so long underground with the dead, he feared the living and the entanglements of life but at the same time he craved it. He could crave her if he let himself but this girl did not fit this tomb, she was beautiful and young and alive. That she had escaped the Old One was nothing short of a miracle and he could not begin to fathom why she now grieved. He had to make her see that she needed to return above ground. The Keeper knelt by her on the cold earth and gingerly laid one hand on her arm. She felt like ice, her skin so pale it seemed transparent. As he talked he was aware of the creeping frost which snaked down the walls of the chamber at Novica's command. If she did not leave soon she would be imprisoned her in this frozen hollow.
'Please, he's growing more powerful, you'll be trapped…' The Keeper struggled to persuade her and she cut through his words.
'I belong here now,' Fred said, her voice distant, 'I belong with her.'
One by one the pale lights of the Chamber died.
-- --
The followers rushed to serve him as he emerged from the shadow paths bringing with him a gush of cold air. Novica batted them away with a dismissive gesture his thoughts intent on more important demands. He glared angrily at his broken mirror before gesturing to his robed magician.
'Fix it,' he said.
'But the magics needed are…'
'I don't care if they are as rare as hen's teeth fix the damn thing. It looks all shattered and ugly…' he grimaced, 'It ruins the line of the room.' The demon magician looked confused. 'Oh why do I bother?' Novica exclaimed, 'I need it fixed!' The demon backed away bowing and motioned to some followers to aid him. They surrounded the mirror and began a low and mildly panicked discussion about the mirror's restoration. Novica growled in their direction and the discussion immediately picked up speed.
Over at the enclosure the colour of blood spattered the white room floor. Spike was taking out his frustrations on the Lost Ones. Novica tutted and joined him, parting the magical enclosure with a gesture and stepping within its joyless confines.
'That can't be fun,' he commented, 'I mean they just stand there…' he looked at the victim in spike's mouth, she stood upright and motionless with his jaws sealed around her jugular. Novica snapped his fingers and she began to struggle under the Vampire's hold. Spike's moan of encouragement sent a chill through Novica which warmed his heart.
'That's better isn't it?' he winked and drifted around the enclosure. The girl in spike's arms cried out in pain and Novica listened absently to her protests and struggles as he talked.
'The soul is in the Lost One,' he said, 'I tried to use her eyes and the soul stopped me. Foolish thing, hiding in one of them…' a thud and Spike dropped the empty victim to the floor.
'Yeah well I wouldn't call her foolish if I were you she's pretty powered up.'
'I saw you running for your life Spike,' Novica mocked him cheerfully, 'it was a scream I tell ya!'
Spike eyed him viciously. 'You didn't see this bird up close, she's…'
'Scary?'
'Well… yeah actually.'
'So you don't want to go back there and…'
'Oh no, I'm not your whipping boy, girl's got some mojo going for her that I don't want to be a part of.'
Novica considered this for a moment. 'They're in a church?'
'Yeah. East side of the city.' Spike turned on the spot and followed Novica's pacing with his eyes. 'I'm not going over there without a little back up. I know you want this girlie's soul for your big bad plan but I don't fancy taking her on alone.'
Novica stopped and looked at him a sudden inspiration in his eyes. He motioned a circle in
the air between him and the vampire and within its circumference a talisman formed slowly, gradually becoming solid. It dropped and Spike caught it.
'Take that with you,' Novica said. 'And when you get there let it do the work.'
Spike looked at the spindly brown talisman with obvious doubt. 'Me and a stick versus the green super-being?'
Novica smiled indulgently. 'She will have a weakness. You just have to find it. And that 'stick' as you put it will keep her occupied while you do.'
Spike looked back at the stick. 'And you're sure I won't get my ass fried in the process?'
'Absolutely.'
'And why aren't you doing all this, again?'
'Because I'm very busy and important,' Novica said tartly with a roll of his eyes, 'now get going.'
Spike shrugged and pocketed the talisman, sauntering out of the enclosure with new purpose. Novica shook his head with a sigh and muttered, 'Minions, they're all so…' he lashed out and grabbed at the nearest Lost One, spinning her in his arms until he could get a firm hold of her head. With a quick movement he wrenched her jaw around so that a sharp crack indicated her neck had snapped. 'Frustrating!' he concluded, 'You're all so frustrating!' He dropped the Lost One and walked casually to his throne.
-- --
The sarcophagus hovered by the bridge suspended on the Keeper's magics. Fred stood by the entrance to the chamber, her body supported by the buttresses which held the ground above their heads. The sapphires on Illyria's coffin glowed dimly with a false life injected by the rituals which now sent her deep into the hole in the world. The Keeper had found little objection from Fred when he had told her that the sarcophagus must return to its resting place, but now he cast worried glances over his shoulder at the girl. Her grief ran deeply and her movements were as unpredictable as her mood. She was one moment quiet and reflective, the next hurling the bowl of food across the room and shrieking with pain. When he had finally restrained her from the sarcophagus she had fallen limply into his arms in a faint. Illyria's' use of her body had left scars which would never heal and he secretly wondered how long she might survive, empty as she was. He looked at her again and satisfied that she remained passively by the door he began to lower the coffin.
The channel through the earth was dim below them, and the Keeper wondered if the battle between Illyria and Novica had drained some of the power from the graveyard of demons. Only the faint blue light from Illyria's tome lit its descent, jewels gleaming in the darkness from other graves as she passed. It was as though something was draining the light from the well, taking it from the air and storing it away, hidden and unreachable. He closed his eyes and guided her in the dark with the power of second sight, steering her clear of impediment and danger as a father might his child. Slowly, slowly until she reached her place and settled amid the others. The pale blue light died and Illyria was silent beneath them. The Keeper
opened his eyes and drew a long breath. The ruckus of the battle was over and peace was returning to the Deeper Well in what form it may. He felt exhausted and unready for the next steps, aware that Novica's power was growing and that his ice age was penetrating the earth above his head. With luck the Old One would leave him be, continue his reign and see no need to interfere with the ancient workings of the well. The Keeper was impartial in all disputes and wars but he felt the beginnings of a struggle at his heart whenever he looked at the girl.
The girl.
He turned just in time to see her race for the edge of the bridge and hurl herself into the pit below and the Keeper's hollow scream echoed off the tombs of the Old Ones as she fell, the dim light chasing after her and leaving him in darkness.
-- --
She opened her eyes with a sudden startled motion. Something was different and very, very wrong. The last she remembered was dodging flying rubble as she raced along a corridor, desperately seeking her friends. She'd felt a sharp pain as something fell and she'd tasted blood. Cautiously she reached up with one hand and tried to feel for the damage she was sure she'd find on her head.
'Oh…That doesn't feel right,' she said her voice wondering. She tried to push herself from her resting place and let out a confused yelp as she moved away.
Willow looked down at her body, trapped and tangled beneath the remains of the Hyperion Hotel. She must have been there for days, slowly fading. Her hair was thick with dirt and her skin smudged with bruises and scrapes. Willow's spirit sighed and her lips moved in an irritated motion from side to side.
'If there's one thing guaranteed to piss off a Wicca,' she muttered, 'it's being dead.'
-- --
Lorne wrapped the last make shift bandage around his daughter's hand.
'I hope you realise how much I must love you, this is the last of a rare breed of designer shirt now totally extinct because we needed bandages. You'd think I'd have learned really, all the time I've spent sacrificing my wardrobe in the face of evil,' his tone was light and jovial and he tied a knot in the brilliant coloured silk to finish the job. When he looked up Aviline was crying.
'Did I hurt you?' he said suddenly concerned.
'I hurt your shirt,' she replied.
'Oh silly!' he laughed, 'It was so last season anyway an there's nothing better for a Mystical wound than some pure spun silk from the silkworms of er… well I don't know where the silkworms for it came from, I think possibly a zoo in San Diego or… oh who am I kidding I
don't know where silk worms come from!' Aviline smiled at him.
'China,' Sasha offered.
'See, mommy knows all that stuff 'cos she actually went to school, unlike daddy who bunked off to hang out down by the watering hole with the girls and…' he stopped his eyes wide, 'And um… discuss wild flowers and things.' He looked with panic at Sasha. 'This being a dad thing is trickier than I thought.'
He patted Aviline on the shoulder and started to tidy away the remains of his shirt.
'Going to have to get you some clothes,' Sasha said, 'Won't you freeze?'
'Well there might be a cassock I could borrow out back,' he laughed and pulled his jacket tighter round him . 'But personally I think I'd rather freeze.'
'Just have to help you keep warm then,' Sasha snuggled closer and slipped her arms under the jacket to where his warm green skin lay bare. He wriggled under her touch, his flesh ticklish.
'Stop that!' he protested meekly, 'Think of the kids!'
Sasha was struck by a fit of the giggles and he soon joined her struck by the strangeness of their situation.
'Unmarried and responsible for two children in the space of a couple of months…' he said, 'My mother would be so disappointed, which might actually be an improvement from her usual very disappointed. I'm so glad you don't have to meet my mother… she'd eat you alive… quite literally…'
Sasha listened to the soothing rumble of his voice in his chest and watched as Aviline joined Toby on the steps before the altar. Feeling sorry for her he had retrieved the toys he had discovered earlier and set them up for her to play with. It seemed that in the simple mind of a five year old boy it was more than obvious that Aviline was a child in need of a playmate and now she sat gratefully with him as he explained both the nativity and Noah's arc in mixed bursts. Sasha wasn't entirely sure he'd get either story straight as the animals came visiting the baby Jesus two by two but she couldn't help but be warmed by his gesture.
The feeling vanished as doubt hit her again. 'Her own power burned her,' Sasha said suddenly. 'Where does all that power come from?'
'Well you and I make a pretty unusual set of parents sweetie, but I get the feeling there is something else at work here. I don't have anything like the psychic powers she's demonstrated and that was just in utero, god knows what she can do now.'
'And slayers are chosen not inherited, so I'm doubting this stuff came from me either, besides, slayer stuff is all about strength and violence and she's kinda.. well… peaceful…'
'Not all of it is about violence,' Lorne said. 'But I get what you mean.'
'What do you see when you look at her Lorne?'
He tensed under her body and she sensed it, the feeling adding to her doubt. 'What do you mean? I see our little cupcake.'
'Is that all? I mean, in her aura, her destiny?'
'Well I haven't made her do any karaoke yet honey, I think that concept is a little scary for a newborn. But I will make sure she's educated in the ways of Aretha before long…'
'Lorne stop sidetracking.' Sasha pulled herself up and looked at him. 'Don't you sense it?' She saw it then in his eyes, the flicker of truth and her heart leapt. She had been hoping so hard she was imagining things, just a scared new mom in a weird situation.
'Yeah I sense it,' he said, 'But it doesn't matter to me. I love her.'
'She's not ours is she?' Sasha said quietly, 'parts of her are yes, she's a part of you and me, she has something of each of us, but deep down, her essence, all that extra stuff, the psychic business, the healing, that's not us Lorne… doesn't that worry you? Aren't you scared? We're in the middle of an apocalypse we can't be sure of anything.'
He looked away from her and she saw his jaw set hard as he tried to rein in his feelings. 'Please don't doubt her; just look at her.'
In front of them Aviline was on her knees, utterly rapt by Toby's attempts at theology, giggling and laughing, trying to sweep her hair out of the way with her bandaged hands. Her aura sparkled in the soft colours Sasha had seen in the mirror during her pregnancy but beneath it something else lurked. She didn't have the skill to look that deeply and she was aware that she was challenging Lorne to do so.
He remained silent and she wondered whether to push the point further. She looked down at Toby and as though aware of the gathering quiet the boy began to hum the tune to the lullaby Lorne had sung to him. Every now and then his voice would break out with a word or phrase from the song.
La...la...la… day for you… la…la…la…
It was so easy for Lorne to look into the destinies of others, and it was a gift she at once envied and feared. She wouldn't want that responsibility herself but she longed to be able to see into their daughter.
'Make her sing Lorne,' she asked, 'For me. Please, just read her…'
Lorne withdrew his arm from Sasha and got to his feet. 'No, I won't do that, she isn't hiding anything, and whatever the 'extra' is in her, it doesn't change how I feel or anything I would do to protect her in all this.' He was looking hard at Aviline and Toby.
'Lorne…' Sasha began the anxiety high in her voice. She had struggled since Aviline's emergence, certain that she was just traumatised by her birth or emotional and drained from the last few months, but she couldn't put aside this growing doubt that something wasn't right
with their daughter. She got up and grasped Lorne's arm, pulling him away from his path which headed to where Toby had set up stall. 'Please, I love her, I do…. but I need to know what's going on.'
He unclasped her grip and stepped away his brow suddenly lined in concern and his voice distracted. ''But' isn't a word I want to hear in that context….Unconditional love, sweetie, look it up in a dictionary.'
-- --
She felt as though she would never stop falling. It wasn't frightening when there was no hard landing to scare her. The sarcophaguses around her flicked by one by one and her descent was slow and gentle. Fred felt as though she was dreaming, her arms reaching out every now and again seeking something and all the while the light around her growing stronger. It pooled around her body and cushioned her against the sharp edges of coffins and jewels.
Illyria had been here before, she felt it, and Illyria was guiding her now, somehow, from beyond her tomb. She had a task that needed doing, or checking, or finishing. Fred couldn't decide which, and she didn't know what the task was. But she'd know when she found it, the tomb she was looking for. The name beat again and again with each second that she fell.
Levinia. Levinia.
-- --
Spike's heavy boots crunched through the snow leaving tracks which were soon covered by fresh flakes. The church sat tall on the horizon, the spire dark against the deep grey of the sky but with no stars to shine and glint in its windows. Instead through the ice encrusted glass the colours were etched out by the candles Lorne and the others had lit inside. Spike dropped his cigarette into the snow and stamped on it.
'I never liked churches,' he said, 'Not like a good crypt,' he cast his eyes around to see if he could find one but the snow hung so thickly on every shape that it was hard to tell in the gloom. 'Too many bloody crosses lying around waiting to hurt a guy, too much holy water dribbling out of everything.'
Will you get on with it? Novica's voice said suddenly.
'Alright alright keep your robe on,' Spike sniffed and started to root about in his pockets. 'Ah, here we go, nice little magic stick, what do I do with it?'
Novica sighed. Spike waved the stick about in the air experimentally. Suddenly Novica took hold of his arm and threw the talisman far into the cemetery causing spike to rear back off balance. He crashed to the ground on his behind.
'There was no need for that,' he growled to the backdrop of Novica's giggles. 'Now what?'
Watch.
The talisman flared suddenly like a firework and vanished just as quickly. Spike made a
scoffing unimpressed noise and then the ground began to rumble.
'Oo,' he hazarded a guess, 'earthquake?'
Not quite.
A hand erupted from the snow and grabbed at Spike's ankle.
'Neat,' he said.
-- --
Inside the church Lorne had grabbed for Toby and headed for the door behind the pulpit, directing Sasha under the door frame on the opposite side of the building close to where they had been resting. Aviline ducked under the heavy altar and watched mesmerised as the church shook to its foundations, grabbing for support instinctively with her bandaged hands and drawing back in pain and surprise. She held the altar cloth up so that she could see and tried to gauge each parent's reaction in turn. She looked at Lorne bracing himself and holding Toby against his legs as lumps of stoneware began to split away and fall from the pulpit. The little boy cowered, burying his head somewhere close to Lorne's knee and wrapping his little arms around his leg. Lorne placed one hand over the boy's hair protectively and the child's aura changed subtly. A wave of emotion came over her that she couldn't understand so she looked away and towards Sasha.
The slayer was casting her eyes backwards and forwards around the church, to each window, to each possible entrance. She was looking for danger and from where she hid Aviline could feel the power rising in her mother, she sensed, as she did that this was a mystical force and that the trembling church was the first of their problems. Sasha dropped her eyes and looked hard at Aviline, her aura a mixture of aggression and love which made Aviline's stomach flip with nerves.
'Say there,' Sasha ordered, 'drop the cloth and stay out of sight.' Her voice was more commanding than angry but Aviline flinched at the sound and dropping the cloth drew her knees up to her chin and closed her eyes against the din. It wasn't supposed to be like this. This wasn't how it happens. She had thought the slayer could keep her safe long enough, she'd tried her best to guide her and bring her to this church but Novica had followed. This empty shell she rested in now had followed and it had all gone wrong. And now she was stuck in this being, and not in the body she should have been born to, and her hands burned because it could not contain her powers. She was scared to use them again, it was all a mess.
The first tears began to trickle done Aviline's face. A strange sensation which choked her and made her head throb. She'd wanted a chance to be born to them and loved, and to be born complete, half Lorne, half Sasha, how it should be. Not like this. Like this she didn't fit.
-- --
Spike whooped with joy, kicking the zombie at his feet to one side. It crawled off in the direction of the church, its bare arm bones pulling it forward in sickening lurches.
'This rocks!' he cried with delight and sensed Novica's approval. 'Deeply cunning plan, Big
Bad!'
You wanted back up… Novica mused smugly. They'll wear themselves out on the dead boys and they you can go in and clear up the mess. I will get that soul…
'You know prophecies can be a bit vague… there was that whole Shanshu deal about the vampire with a soul, couldn't have been me, couldn't have been Angel, could've been both at a stretch depending which translator you used and that Wesley was always a bit rusty…'
Is there a point to this? Novica said
'Yes,' Spike said dramatically, pausing and wishing the damn god was there so he could look him in the eye, 'my point is, are you one hundred percent this bird has the soul you need?'
Well even if she isn't the soul she's an interesting snack isn't she?
'Can't argue with that…'
Of course I'm sure she's the soul! Bit of a coincidence if she wasn't right? Humanity and power? The product of? Demon… slayer? It's her!
Spike rocked on his heels as he watched a zombie smash another window. He imagined the glass raining down on Lorne's smug little green face and had to restrain himself from running in there and helping out with the destruction.
Not yet Spike, let them do their stuff first. Novica retreated from his mind.
'Yeah yeah I know,' Spike said to himself, 'Don't mess with the green chick stil she's well and truly knackered. Not likely,' he scoffed, 'She gives me the serious wiggans.'
'Not as serious as the wiggans I'm gonna give you,' the voice said.
-- --
The noise from outside her hiding place was getting louder. Windows were smashing, Toby was screaming and from her left Aviline heard her mother fly into action. Terrified she peeked out from under the cloth, aware that if she just tapped into her power she could destroy every one of the creatures who attacked her parents. But if she tapped into that power then what? She'd destroy Miranda's flimsy body in one blow and then everything would be finished. For her, for her parents, for Toby… she squeezed the tears from her eyes and willed Sasha to keep fighting, just as she had willed her to fight as she had been ripped from her belly.
But she'd lost then hadn't she? Sasha hadn't been strong enough.
-- --
Spike yelled like a girl and was met by cheerful and derisive laughter. Willow floated before him in the darkness of the cemetery, her form brilliant with white magic and interrupted every now and again by a zombie which blundered through her ghost en route to the church.
'What are you playing at Spike?' she asked, directing flame at each zombie in turn to stem the flow a little.
'What the bloody hell?' he cursed at her.
'I'm dead,' she said lightly, 'you were so busy dragging prophecies and Lost One's out of the debris you forgot about me!' she directed a little magic his way in punishment and he jumped as though electrocuted. 'If you'd bothered to look you could have found me but instead I spent a good long week dying slowly.'
'Oh.. right… sorry about that.'
Willow sent another jet of flame towards a zombie.
'Suppose you're going to help them out now?' Spike said nodding towards the church.
'I don't need to,' Willow said, 'I just need to keep you occupied.'
'Hate to mention it Red but there's a whole lot of brain munchers on their way inside to munch brain. I don't need to help out.'
Willow smiled sweetly and zapped him again. 'Dead people know things that you don't.'
'Hey I'm undead too.'
'Yeah but I'm on the other side, it's a whole different level of dead, we get privileges…. I get the big picture, and I know that those zombies won't pose much of a threat in just a moment…' around her the trembling stopped abruptly and a final flurry of snow fell from the sky.
Spike took this lull as a signal to head for the church and Willow responded quickly blocking his way and tethering him with magic. He struggled as though his wrists were bound behind him and then dropped to the ground as though his knees had been kicked out.
'What's happening?'
'Well technically speaking, the beginning of the end, of the end of the world,' she grinned the bright smile of the schoolgirl she once was.
'Eh?'
Inside the church the zombies dropped in dozens from the shattered windows and advanced slowly on Lorne and Sasha. They would kill them both, and the boy and she couldn't let it happen. Her love for them overrode her own needs. Aviline had no choice; she stepped out from under the altar and every unseeing eye in the building turned to her.
-- --
Levinia. Levinia.
Fred's fall was slowing to a halt and she opened her eyes against the breeze. She was almost level with the casket now, pink granite and rubies and smaller than the others. She felt the ghost of Illyria move her and she reached out to touch it just as she had a year before when the Old One had consumed her. Was that what she was asking, that this new being consume Fred now? She hesitated her hand above the central jewel. If it was then could she bear it. She had no concept of what lay within this sarcophagus, only that Illyria wished it to be released. Did she trust Illyria that far?
She thought of the alternative. An empty existence as a discarded shell. She knew she could never go back to being just Fred, that the damage was done. She couldn't function alone in this body any more. Maybe this was her salvation.
The thing in the casket was ready she could feel it. It had joined Illyria in urging her to move. It needed her human touch to release it. With a sudden purposeful movement Fred drew a deep breath and pressed down on the jewel.
The Deeper Well erupted in flaming light, flying upwards with mystical force and scouring the hole in the world. She was dimly aware of each sarcophagus igniting in turn, crumbling in the wake of the light's intensity, her head spun and the brilliance hurt her eyes until she squeezed them tight shut and tried to cover them. Overwhelmed by the power from the casket Fred blacked out and as she did so Illyria's voice came to her.
It is done.
When she came to it was on the cold frozen grass above the Well, her face was wet with the melted dew and from in front of her she could feel heat, heat pouring through the ground and air and thawing the meadow. Cautiously she opened her eyes. From the entrance to the Deeper Well the light poured skywards, driving back the heavy clouds and darkness and destroying Novica's little corner of England. Sunshine poured from the sky and warmth returned as fast as it had vanished. The stream poured upwards for a moment more and then vanished.
Debris rained down from the Keeper's chamber. Artefacts blasted into pieces, papers and volumes of prophecy scattered on the wind. Fred was propped on her arms, half collapsed, gazing at where the light had been. The sudden silence of the meadow, interrupted only by birdsong brought tears to her eyes. Was that it? Illyria's task? She tried to right herself further but slumped back to the wet grass. No Old One possessed her now, she lay as empty and as desolate as before and sobbed into the earth.
-- --
Willow jerked Spike around as though he were on a leash.
'Look,' she said sharply.
The light screamed like a comet across the sky and headed straight for the church. In its wake the sky shone bluely and the snow clouds melted away.
'Bloody hell. What in god's name is….'
Levinia, Novica's answer came sharply and his voice faltered.
-- --
The first of the zombies was almost on her and at close range Aviline could scent his decay. She looked briefly at Lorne and back at Sasha who flew expertly towards the creature, a roundhouse kick aimed squarely at his head.
'Why aren't they dying?' Lorne called, Toby quivering behind his legs.
'Zombie's don't die until the source of their power is destroyed,' Sasha said between blows. 'Look for a talisman or a sacred object.'
'A scared object?' Lorne said in despair, 'We're in a church!'
'They came from outside, it'll be there!'
'We can't go out there!' Lorne belted a zombie hard across the jaw and watched him stagger back and right himself again with an inhuman groan.
'Got a better idea?' Sasha was tiring. The creatures weren't fast but there were many of them and they were strong in their own plodding way. She let one zombie slip and he grabbed at Aviline's damaged hands. 'Move!' Sasha yelled at her, 'For God's sake move!'
Aviline steeled herself for what she knew would be painful. She concentrated on her powers and prepared to throw them hard against the zombies, she'd buy Lorne time, they'd get out of there with the boy. On the count of three.
'One,' she said.
Sasha stared at her aghast for a moment. Why wasn't she moving? The zombie had a hold of her and was dragging her down off the altar steps with spittle gathering at its mangled lips. Sasha kicked another out of the way but they were clustering close to her. She couldn't get to Aviline and a mixture of fear and fierce protective instinct caused her to lash out wildly at the creatures around her.
'Two,' Aviline said, the weight of the zombie pulling her forwards. Lorne yelled at her to move, to hit out, anything. She let her eyes meet his briefly and saw the pleading and worry rich in his aura, but he was being driven back by the undead and couldn't come to her aid. This was it, she had to do it herself.
As she drew breath to count the final beat, it hit her. The thing she had been waiting for. She thought it would never come, her birth had been premature, she hadn't had time for this but here it was. Something had triggered it just in time. Aviline kicked hard against the zombie and sent him flying to the ground. Encouraged by her daughter's effort Sasha hurled herself back into the fight with renewed vigour, oblivious to all else but the mission.
It was Lorne who witnessed it all as though in a dream. He scooped Toby into his arms and retreated against the wall his eyes fixed on Aviline. She was glowing, with the healing power
that had saved him and Sasha just hours before, but this time it did not stop at her fingertips. It poured down over her body and shone in her eyes. Her smiled widened and an eerie confidence filled her. It wasn't going to hurt this time. It wouldn't burn.
Through the high ceiling of the church the light erupted like a waterfall and rained down over the zombies, it threw itself hard around the walls and blasted the undead through the windows they had broken. The tallest window which had remained untouched shattered outwards and glass hailed down onto the cemetery slicing into rising zombies and cutting into Spike as he knelt helpless imprisoned by Willow. In his mind he could hear Novica cursing.
'Do something!' Spike encouraged, 'What the hell is going on?'
The clouds above churned and parted, fighting back and forth, the skies now blue, now red and purple, Novica's colours battling with the light. Spike felt him struggle and fall back, withdrawing from the churchyard and waiting instead outside its boundaries. He erected barriers with frightening speed, sealing the bubble of light around the church with his darkness so that it shone like a snowglobe on display.
'Great! Absolutely great!' Spike threw at him, 'Just going to let it happen are you?' But Novica was out of reach and would not respond to him.
'He has no choice, she's too strong for him,' Willow said.
'Who? This Levinia bird? This beam of holy light?' his voice dripped with sarcasm and incredulous arrogance.
Willow yanked at his magical leash again and merely smiled. 'She's his opposite and equal,' she explained, 'I was told she was coming,' she said smugly.
Spike growled irritated at Novica's abandonment and Willow punished him again. 'Spike I'm disappointed in you,' she chided, 'After all that effort to get your soul you let him take it from you. When all this is over I'm going to teach you a lesson or two. What would Buffy say if she knew…'
Spike flinched as Willow's smartly aimed blow hit the nerve he'd been ignoring since this began. She saw it and saw through his bravado. 'Nothing new you can show me Red,' he grumbled his eyes fixed on the exploding church. From the ground around him a few final zombies were emerging. 'it's not over yet anyway.'
In the church Aviline's eyes whipped round in the direction of Spike. Although he was hundreds of yards outside she could sense his words. She remembered the arrow that had pierced Lorne's back and Spike had colluded to take her from her mother. Her resentment brewed deeply within her and then she quelled it with ease. It didn't matter now.
'It's over when I say so,' she said and counted, 'Three.' A beam of light fired through the door of the church and focused on the talisman. The little firework display it had shown at its activation was triplicated now and it soared high into the air before exploding into vibrant red sparks.
'Oh sod it!' Spike called.
Willow's ghost applauded. 'Pretty!' she said.
-- --
Her tears couldn't last forever. Slowly cold and damp edged into Fred's bone and she drew herself up from the ground. Around her the meadow was strewn with papers. As she tried to steady herself with long deep breaths a movement caught her eye. The Keeper was approaching through the grass. Fred squinted in the sunlight as he moved towards her.
'You look different in daylight,' she said simply.
'Everything does,' he replied, 'usually better but I might be an exception,' he tried a laugh but Fred's face remained downcast. 'I cannot leave this place,' he said, 'I am bound to this meadow while the Deeper Well remains vulnerable. I have much to do here.'
Fred looked past him to the entrance and mumbled. 'I guess you do.'
'I need you to take this,' he said holding out a battered volume, 'take this to them and it will explain all. I was foolish not to see Illyria's plan…'
'Her plan?'
'Illyria knew Novica's weaknesses better than any being; I should have seen her thinking when she discovered the child.'
'What are you talking about?' Fred knit her brows with effort, she was tired and drained and hopeless, she wanted nothing more to do with this mess. She wanted to just end.
'Here,' The Keeper handed the volume to her. 'See for yourself and then take it to Lorne and the others, they'll know what to do and you'll see her for yourself.' He opened the Shadow Paths behind her and waited.
Irritated Fred looked down at the heavy bound leather book. The cover was heavily marked but the title could be seen clearly enough. In ornate lettering the word which had been resounding so clearly in her mind was seared across the leather.
'LEVINIA,' it read. Fred mouthed the world and looked up at the Keeper suddenly alert.
'Now look again,' he intoned, the spring breeze ruffling his hair and carrying his words to her. He faded softly into nothing and as Fred looked back she saw the letters move and realign.
'AVILINE.'
'Bringer of Light,' The Keeper's words whispered over the meadow.
-- --
The whirlwind of light was settling, its movements slowing in the church. Hesitantly Lorne and Sasha moved towards the altar where Aviline was waiting, the glow around her cooling.
As they approached the light did too, moving past them in a smooth rush and gathering over Aviline's heart, she seemed to absorb it and then in a moment the brilliance dimmed and the church was bathed in the sunshine of the day outside. She looked down at them nervously.
'Hi,' she said.
Lorne raised his eyebrows, 'You want to explain yourself young lady?'
Aviline screwed up her mouth and shuffled her feet. 'Wasn't supposed to happen like this,' she said. 'I wasn't supposed to be born yet.'
Lorne made a gesture of exasperation. 'You can't leave it like that!'
'My real name is Levinia,' she began, 'I was an Old One like Illyria, and Like Novica but different. They worked for darkness and my name means 'light.' I was the only one among the old ones to represent that side and I didn't last long. Novica murdered me and Illyria revenged my death.'
Lorne kept his eyes on the floor and waited.
'They were my parents…' she said tentatively, 'and in that way I am still their daughter. My powers come from them.' She saw them flinch. 'But I am more yours than you know, you are my mother and father, you gave me this life, where my beginnings were don't matter when I look at you both. I… I love you and I'm not ready for this life yet… I need you to help me.' Her voice became unsteady.
Sasha sat heavily on the step and after a second Aviline crouched down to be on her level. Slowly the family gathered there with Toby hovering mesmerised nearby.
Aviline pushed on with her explanation, keen to finish it and rid herself of the pain it caused her. 'Illyria saw potential with you,' she addressed Sasha,' when she saw you were pregnant.'
'So she took my baby and replaced it with you?' Sasha said darkly.
'No, no I'm still your baby,' the hurt was audible in Aviline's voice, 'My soul is half of you, half of Lorne, just like you saw in the mirror. Illyria only gave me memories and borrowed power at first, to protect me and you. When she entered your body as part of your plan to defeat Novica she saw my soul and prepared me best she could because she knew it might be the only way. That's how I could guide you through the tunnels.'
'The psychic powers,' Lorne said to himself, 'I knew they were too great to come from me.'
Aviline looked at him sadly, 'Some of them are yours.'
'And what happened just now?' Lorne asked.
'After her death Illyria knew that it would take something big to defeat Novica. She'd failed so she arranged that the casket which held Levinia's essence be triggered so that the transference of that power to me would be completed.' She looked back at Sasha whose expression showed nothing but resentment.
'She didn't want this,' Aviline said, 'She hoped it wouldn't have to be this way… she never intended to hurt me, or you, its just what had to be done to win this war against Novica,' and she became thoughtful before adding, 'If I had been born naturally I'd have had your features, your hair, Lorne's smile and eyes. I'm your daughter with Levinia's gifts… please… you and Lorne are all I've got…'
-- --
Fred tumbled trough the shadow paths and crash landed in the cemetery.
'Hi Fred,' Willow greeted her.
Fred's brown eyes widened with shock. 'Willow!' a surge of joy rushed through her and for the first time in days she felt alive. 'I thought you…'
'Oh I'm dead,' Willow grinned, 'it's not so bad really, it has its perks.'
Fred looked confused and said 'Oh.' She looked at Spike still on his knees. With the sunlight restored over the cemetery Willow had cast a makeshift spell over him to prevent him burning to a crisp. A small raincloud hovered over his head and let fly heavy drops of water which battered off his leather duster. He smiled at Fred bitterly with a sharp twitch of his lips.
'What have you got there?' Willow asked.
'Prophecy,' Fred said, 'Does the name 'Aviline' mean anything to you because it was the weirdest thing, I was looking at this book and…'
'Lorne's daughter,' Willow said.
'Oh is it going to be a girl?'
'It is a girl, she's in there… long story…' she said in reply to Fred's stunned silence. 'But trust me I have it on good authority from the Powers That Be that she's going to work wonders. Big powerful godly mojo...' she hesitated, 'its just a pity about the other stuff…' Willow quickly regained her smile and faced Fred's next query.
'But the book said… Aviline and Levinia? They're they same person?'
'Yes and no,' Willow said gliding towards the church and encouraging Fred to accompany her. 'But for the purposes of this apocalypse, kinda yes.'
Fred trotted after her, heavy book in hand, ' Um… OK then..' she drawled, 'I'll go with that…'
-- --
In the white room the mirror flickered back into life and the robed magician breathed a sigh of short lived relief. In his rage Novica sent purple rays of magic blasting into the Lost Ones'
enclosure before storming over to the glass.
'Levinia' he cursed, 'Damn it why didn't I see it coming? You!' he hurled electricity towards the magician who dodged it just barely and spent the next few moments trying to extinguish his robe. 'Why did you let this happen?'
The demon stuttered inarticulately.
'I need that soul and she will not stop me!' he hauled one follower out of his way and threw him against the podium. His eye caught the mirror, the protective dome of light shone high over the church obscuring his view but through its brilliance he spotted the witch and Illyria's old shell moving towards the door.
'They know something, they collude with her in there,' he said angrily. 'Why can't I see?' he cried in frustration spinning on the spot and raging back up to his throne, 'Dammit I will not be shut out for long.'
His eyes fell on the figure of Spike, still magically bound and helpless outside the church with his raincloud drizzling over his head. Novica smiled slowly.
'Oh Spikey…' he whispered.
-- --
Aviline's explanation over, Sasha sat in a confused daze, the warmth of the sunlight pouring through the shattered window hot on her neck. Lorne watched as motes of dust danced above her in the air.
'I knew there was something,' Sasha said, her pain causing the words to tumble and jar in her mind.
'Me too,' Lorne said quietly and Sasha looked at him sharply. She was still stinging for their conversation earlier in the day.
'You knew?' she asked suddenly certain. He looked up at her with an apology in his eyes.
'I couldn't say could I? How do you explain to the woman you love that your daughter's part Light Goddess from the beyond.'
Sasha just looked at him in disbelief. 'I can't take this in,' she said, her hands clasped over her ears. 'I just don't get it, and how did you know anyway, you refused to read her.'
'I read him,' Lorne said and looked towards Toby. 'And then I pieced together the facts. Novica is looking for something, and he thinks it Aviline. A soul from a prophecy; if he drinks it he can destroy humanity.'
'You got this from Toby?' Sasha asked.
'Yes, when he was singing earlier, the lullaby. Knocked me flat for a bit to be honest.'
'And how does his destiny fit with all this, with her and Novica and god knows who else?'
'He's the soul,' Lorne said simply. 'He's the key to it all.'
Aviline laid a hand on Sasha's shoulder. 'Toby is the soul Novica needs to fulfil the prophecy, not me. He thought it was me because I was born of you, a slayer, and Lorne, an empath, that I equalled the union of power and humanity. But that isn't it at all. For Toby to be here now his soul had to be reborn and that happened when Lorne reached out to find him. Lorne's humanity and his determination not to give up on him, and Toby's resilience, his will to survive. That's a different kind of power. Novica was so fixated on Lorne, on me and you that he didn't notice he had the thing he needed right under his nose all this time. The only Lost One who came back, who escaped, and he just let him go. And he still has no idea.'
They all turned and looked a Toby who was standing wide eyed and gazing round the wrecked church in trepidation. He shuffled between a zombie carcass and the steps in an attempt to reach Aviline.
'I told you he was a miracle,' Lorne said. 'I told you if you needed hope, just look at him.'
Sasha looked but all she could feel was loss. Everything was falling to pieces. The Lost Ones trapped with Novica, soulless and empty, doomed. Spike deprived of his humanity and used as a pawn for evil. The Hyperion destroyed and Willow missing. Fred unseen for days. Lorne shot with an arrow, making bandages out of his clothes, on the run from the creature which stole the human face she had fallen in love with months before. It was crazy, an alien world she was losing her grip on. And now this, this final insult to injury, striking her at the most tender part.
She didn't want a goddess for a daughter, she didn't want her child's soul to occupy the empty shell of one of Novica's victims. She wanted to carry her and give birth and raise her, to see her grow and develop, to recognise Lorne's features in her face and encourage her personality. She wanted to teach her things and watch her blossom, but instead here she sat, fully grown, half Lorne, half Sasha, half Illyria's child. Sasha stood with a rapid awkward movement and tore her hands through her hair, she couldn't bear this feeling. If Aviline had died being ripped from her womb it would be better than this. She burned with anger and pain and primitive overwhelming hurt. She lashed out as he approached her but when she felt Lorne's arms wrap round her body she sobbed hard into his jacket repeating a mantra over and over again until her anguish echoed off the walls of the church..
'I don't want this,' she cried. The pain sat like lead over her heart and choked her, 'I just want my baby… I want my baby…'
Aviline lowered her head, a single tear falling silently onto the stone below and her voice barely audible above her mother's cries.
'But I'm right here.'
