"How far is it?" Willow asked. Tara could sympathize, though she knew that of the three of them, Willow might well be having the easiest time of it. She was the only Exalt, after all. The undead horse loped along at a pace that would have killed any living beast and that left Tara bouncing in the saddle. At least she knew how to ride.

"And how much longer?" Buffy asked. They had more than one reason for haste. Buffy was able to maintain many more duplicates now, enough that she seemed to have forgotten this one, but at any time Buffy could return from Malfeas and scan this one's mind. It was actually easier to think of this duplicate as Buffy than the original. The original had tried to get her and Willow to join in her bedroom escapades before leaving with Sweet. Not that Buffy wasn't very pretty, or that Tara couldn't at least imagine multiple partners, but Buffy had casually just told her to come along, and she'd have done it if the mystical display itself hadn't warned her what was happening. She'd have been even more outraged if she hadn't known Buffy wasn't in full control of that power; it was still just possible that she hadn't intended to magic-roofie anyone. Buffy had apologized, and she still seemed not to want her friends hurt, so Tara had accepted ber apology...with reservations.

This Buffy had apologized much more sincerely. She was a lot closer to the Buffy Tara had known, though from time to time she reminded herself that Buffy had already been changed by being the Slayer years before they met. It was easy to imagine that the Buffy who was probably boinking Sweet at this very moment was an evil duplicate, instead of the other way round.

But that wasn't the truth, now was it?

"We have days more of travel," Son of Crows called back. "We can reach my mistress sooner by entering the nearest Shadowland and taking shortcuts through the Labyrinth, but that risks drawing the attention of both the Neverborn and the First and Forsaken Lion. The Neverborn may not mind the Hanged Scholar or myself, but they will certainly object to you mortals. As for the Lion, if he were to learn whose I am, he would surely slaughter us all."

"Take the risk," Willow said. "If we don't get out of this plane of existence before Buffy returns, she may decide she doesn't care about us either. We're just about the last tie she has to...well, anything."

Son of Crows narrowed his eyes. No doubt he was surprised that Willow cared so little about the Neverborn's wrath. Since Exalting, Willow seemed ready to let the world burn to take care of her friends. That almost sounded positive, until you remembered how Buffy had been willing to do the same for Dawn-and how futile that had been.

"Tell us why your mistress is so eager to ally with me," Buffy said. "I'm not on par with a Deathlord."

"You may well be," Son of Crows argued, "though not any other save the Black Heron. You cannot match her in personal power-to try would be foolish-but she rules naught save an empty fortress since her punishment for failure. You are Despot of Gem, 'Anathema' like myself, and yet allied with Mnemon, if only to keep you from stabbing her in the back while she struggles for control of the Realm. An alliance might well benefit the Princess Magnificent more than you, to be honest."

"Why haven't the Neverborn just destroyed her?" Willow asked.

"No doubt they have some use for her," Son of Crows said without much conviction. "Perhaps they reason that only if her ingenuity can overcome such handicaps is she worth retaining. I don't know."

"So what do I get for helping her?" Buffy asked. "Making deals with the undead isn't exactly my mobile operation."

"Mode of operations," Willow said under her breath, "or modus operandi if you want to do the Latin thing."

"But you have helped ghosts finish their earthly business before," Tara reasoned. There was no way Buffy ought to help the Black Heron destroy the world, no way that this Buffy would, but maybe if the Neverborn had been that harsh with her she could be talked into betraying them back.

Son of Crows added, "If she can succeed and regain favor, she would be ally on par with Mnemon at least." He glanced around, scenting the mountain air. "We are approaching the mountains of the Thousand-and with it, a small outlying shadowland. Are you sure you want to try this?"

Willow turned to look at Tara and Buffy encouragingly. The last thing Tara wanted was to enter the underworld, and Buffy looked more frightened than Tara had ever seen her. But then Buffy said, half to herself, "If she notices me I won't even get this much of an afterlife," and pointed onward.

What could Tara say to that? She spurred her mount forward.

Chapter 36: The Essence and the Descent

"You did what?"

"Your mouth's hanging open, Cearr. I followed my orders from Ligier: hold Gem by any means necessary." Hell, if she'd found her freedom an hour earlier she'd have done the same thing and stressed less about it. It was the most elegant solution.

"Mnemon's armies were seriously damaged by the hekatonchiere Illyria, and by their ongoing engagement with Buffy's other forces," Sulumor added. "She could still have taken Gem by force, but she judged the cost would have risen too high. With heaven in disarray, she chose to snub the Immaculates for immediate advantage."

"I'll have to change some of my plans," Cyan murmured, "but you were quite right. It's not as if the Realm were some absolute bastion against the Yozis. In theory, perhaps, but not in fact, not any more."

Buffy handed her a snifter of chalcanth. If the Yozis disapproved, they had a funny way of showing it. Ligier had stared for a few moments before telling her to go enjoy a few days' honeymoon. She raised her own glass and downed the last of it.

"Personally, if the Unquestionable approve, I can't complain," Cearr said. "You know that three out of Kimbery's other five Princes have been executed for treason against the Reclamation? Totally unprecedented."

"Well, they say two," Cyan argued, "but the third was killed somewhere near the Haltan border. Don't even know what he was doing there. They're giving all three to new Yozis."

"So?' Buffy got up and began fiddling with a recording device she'd bought, supposedly a relic of the First Age. Music that vaguely resembled classic rock, only with atonal bits thrown in, filled the room.

"Not 'different Yozis"', Buffy," Cyan explained. "NewYozis. Everyone wants in on the Reclamation. They say even one of Sacheverelli's Second-Circles tried to get in on the bidding for him. No chance of that happening, of course."

"Metagaos won the first bid," Cearr said, beckoning to Marzi. Buffy motioned the neomah to go over and sit on his lap like he wanted. That was what neomah were for, after all. "Some rich kid in Nexus. We're still waiting on her to come out of her Chrysalis."

"Tell me it's an ummuhan," Buffy joked.

Cearr burst into laughter as he idly groped Marzi's ass. "An ummuhan for a Coadjutor! That'll be the day! Nah, he went the safe route, sent a dethwok. Dunno what Metagaos is gonna do with a Scourge, but I guess we'll see soon enough."

"I daresay Metagaos knows what to do with obsession and madness," Sulumor said a bit stiffly. Probably there was some inter-Yozi rivalry there that Buffy wasn't aware of. Marzi gave her a pleading look, and Buffy pointedly rolled her eyes at the demon. Did a succubus seriously expect help from her?

She was still the Slayer, after all.

Seaspray flew as the bow of Approaching Obsidian Shores cut through the water. Fred could have activated a screening field to keep it out, but she was enjoying the feel of cool mist on her face. Inevitably now, they were going to ask the question.

"How was he in bed?" said Peleps Kolohi.

"Yeah," Renjin said. "What was that saying of yours? Inquiring minds want to know."

Fred groaned and stared out across the seemingly endless expanse of ocean. She hadn't been looking forward to this. "Let's just say that the lady orcas have probably been getting some beta loving on the side. Or maybe they like that sort of thing, but to this human girl he was rough and out of practice with the foreplay. No offense intended."

"The Dread Pirate would seem to have interesting tastes in men," Renjin said with raised eyebrows.

Fred shrugged. "I'll be honest, I don't know what's going on there except for Xander having Amyana's Exaltation. Maybe she liked it rough."

"Fair enough," Renjin said. "So what's the plan?"

Fred glanced around, but the deck was clear. Tya and Luthans alike found it odd to have most of their seagoing duties inside, but they were adapting. "Most interdimensional travel in this neighborhood runs perpendicular to Fate, and the Loom doesn't interfere. But we need to travel almost parallel to Fate, so the Loom resists our passage."

"So we're going somewhere that the Loom has less influence," Kolohi said thoughtfully. "The Underworld or the Wyld?"

"There's some risk involved," Fred said, "but there's a shadowland much closer than the nearest Wyld zone. Captain Redfang's going to investigate it for Skullstone agents while I'm testing my prototype."

"I thought you just needed to say words," Renjin wondered.

"I've been thinking too narrowly," Fred admitted. "Mishiko told me to sacrifice the idea of going home, and at first I thought she was telling me I would spend the rest of my life here, as Queen of Luthe maybe. But I'm the first person to really understand this kind of travel. I'm a pioneer, and one who could live thousands of years. If people can step from world to world like crossing a room, where's home? What is home anyway?"

"That's a big epiphany," Kolohi said, "but what's it got to do with you needing a device?"

"I don't know if it's a good idea to make a permanent portal between my old world and Creation," Fred said thoughtfully. "But in principle, this prototype will let me establish a portal that lasts longer than a few minutes. One day I'll be able to make permanent gateways between worlds that are relatively safe for each other. Also, if Fate still resists the portal, the ring will help it last a little while."

"I was wondering..." Renjin began.

"Of course I'll let you see Earth," Fred said, grinning. "I don't know if it's a good idea for you to stay, but-"

"Earth sounds interesting enough," Renjin said, "but actually I was wondering if I could see Pylea."

Fred shuddered briefly, but then...well, even if the Groosalugg's reforms had totally failed, what did she have to be afraid of anymore? And Pylea was full of "heroes" roving the land looking for adventure. She didn't think there were any Exalted there, but perhaps there should be. It could hardly make matters worse. "Sure," Fred agreed. "Why in the hell not?"

"It matters what she thinks of us," Anya explained, fastening her shirt buttons. "I want her to see Xander as her friend from high school."

Xander, handing her the suit pants, nodded. "We don't want her to think this is because I'm a Solar and she's an Infernal. She's always been an Infernal. I want her to see the guy she made into a hero treating her as the villain."

Anya fastened her belt and began to pull on the black jacket. "Me, though, I'm Anyanka. She has to see me as someone with authority. So Xander and I made this suit to get the point across. This is who I am now: Anya Jenkins, Agent of Heaven."

"She cares about that?" Iron Siaka studied the small black object in her hand. What Anya said made sense, in a way. She'd never face a ruler as a street urchin, unless the task was to awaken his compassion or something like that. But... "She's an agent of hell."

"Unless Buffy has changed just completely, she cares. If she sees me as an agent of legitimate authority, and not just being obstructive for my own power's sake, she'll listen." Anya took a moment to tidy her collar. "You should've seen the hoops she jumped through trying to get the Watchers' Council to help her sister. Not literal hoops. Sometimes I confuse people that way. Here."

Iron Siaka handed her the pair of dark lenses in the black metal frame. "We should have taken some of these to Gem." Anya slid them on easily. "You look good like this."

"No," Anya said. "I'm Exalted. I make this look good."

"We left swift riders from Gem at the nearest Gate," Siaka said. "We should use them."

"Thank you for the unnecessary but very good advice, Iron Siaka." Anya stood and straightened the perfectly-tailored black suit. "Now listen to your elders. This is a diplomatic mission. Even if it goes tits-up, we will be helping Xander, not killing Buffy on our own initiative. Follow orders. Xander's orders, I mean, because you should be following mine as a matter of course. Do you understand?"

Iron Siaka grumbled under her breath. "I understand. Can I have a suit like that?"

"Sure," Anya said. "When you grow up."

"If it does come to an invasion," Xander asked, "how do we move my soldiers? I've got a navy and zero land transports."

"In five hours when Sad Ivory is done with it," Anya explained, "the Calibration Gate is gonna open on Luthe and you're going to welcome your troops to Yu-Shan. They'll be quartered in a vacant part of the city, where they can incidentally take out any, um, volatile elements. Within six days, they leave by the same gate, either to go back to Luthe or to occupy Gem while we pummel Buffy's ass."

Xander raised one finger. "Excuse me for sounding like Giles, but that is not an image I'm comfortable with and probably not the one you intended."

Iron Siaka leaned in close enough to make him uneasy and murmured, "Right there with you."

"Isn't this dangerous?" Buffy asked, holding up her tray of roast rabbit.

"It is," Tara agreed. "But if we're going to do this, we can eat or starve. Besides, you know about the locusts, don't you?"

Buffy's eyes widened. "What about them? I ate some on the way to Malfeas the second time."

Tara heaved a deep sigh. "They don't work at once, but they make you more sympathetic to the laws of hell and to the giver. So Sulumor in this case. Unless you ate a lot more of them than I know of, you can't blame your actions on them, Buffy. You were still you."

"Should you not be grateful that I feed you?" Son of Crows asked, apparently honestly.

Willow nodded. "That's fair. But when it's a magic thing...well, we have legends about that. In fairness, they're about the Fae, mostly."

"The Fae?" asked an unfamiliar voice.

"Come on out," Son of Crows muttered. "The trouble with diplomats, Scholar, is that we do what we were designed to. This is Meticulous Owl. Owl, this is the Scholar Hanged From the Tree of Life, lately Exalted and supposedly abandoned by the Walker in Darkness."

Meticulous Owl hobbled his way around a rise in the rock. Though he wore a mask to emulate his name, something distorted about his features could not be so easily concealed. "Buffy Summers, Despot of Gem." His eyes narrowed. "Decoy of Gem. Son of Crows, has she fooled you so easily? This is no Exalt."

"Depends on how you look at it," Buffy said. "If you can tell that much, look closer. I'm a copy. Sorry the toner's a little thin."

The Owl stumped closer, peering into Buffy's face. "Hmm," he finally said. "Yes, I see it. An old friend of our new Salina. And Salina's new lover," he added, turning to Tara. "Caught in the web, aren't we? Our friends are all we care about, and in neglecting our duties we doom ourselves further." Lastly he took Willow by the chin. "Unimpressive. The Walker may have bern right to toss you aside."

Willow's forehead bruised and bled, but Meticulous Owl only rolled his eyes. "The Crow and I have been trying to bring our masters together-he on a smaller scale, of course. The Black Heron was no fool. Ill luck and a touch of rashness did her in. She should be back among their councils, such as they are. As for you, Despot...our aims are neither yours nor the Yozis-rest assured, I know the difference-but for the moment they are compatible. Destruction is the beginning; we differ only on when to stop. Tell me, what can you offer the Princess Magnificent?"

Buffy fiddled briefly with a strand of her hair. This could come apart at any time. "I just signed a treaty with Mnemon. If the Black Heron needs a place to hide anything from the other Deathlords, I've got nothing but space. I also have Yozi weapons on offer. I can run military maneuvers to give her cover. I might even be able to get her some demon troops."

"Rumor says two of your demon advisors in particular," Son of Crows said, "are undead."

"Yup. Can confirm, can't tell you how they were made, can't offer you any. Sorry," Buffy said, smiling faintly. "Not for sale."

"What about you?" the Crow asked the Owl. "Can you persuade the Lion to release her?"

"Alas," Meticulous Owl said, "I still cannot produce that. But if your mistress has a candidate in mind, I have procured a Monstrance and Exaltation. My master does not care for Moonshadows, and curiously fails to keep track of those given him. It need only be delivered."

"We'll get it to her," Willow said. "I'd like to talk to her in person, if that's possible."

Meticulous Owl bowed mockingly low. "It can be arranged. She is not so tightly bound as that. As for communicating anything without the First and Forsaken Lion hearing...well, one ought not trust in mere charms. But it can be done."

"Get the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe in the same room," Buffy said, "and we'll figure out the rest." Willow groaned and facepalmed. Tara tried not to laugh; a Monstrance was no mere wardrobe.

"And what can you do for me?" the Owl asked Buffy.

"I don't know," she responded. "What do you need?"

Meticulous Owl smiled a smile full of glimmering teeth.

"All right, listen up, soldiers!" Xander knew he should feel uncomfortable doing this...which was to say that on some minimal level he did. All told, though, it was bizarrely natural. "We are about to go where few mortals have gone before! You are going as an act of cooperation between the Bureau of Destiny...and me, the Dread Pirate Roberts, Zenith Caste, Exalted of the Unconquered Sun!

"Therefore I expect all of you to be on your best behavior, you got that? Don't think being Dragonblooded will get you anywhere, there's no love lost between the gods and your kind. It sucks, there it is, deal with it!

"In two, count 'em, two minutes the Calibration Gate is gonna open on this deck right here in front of you, and you're gonna go through. Weapons down unless you're an MP. MPs be alert for hostile deities but do not engage unless I give the word! If I do not give the word, put up your riot shields and hold! All right...be ready...there it is!"

A burst of cool wind, a flash of light, and there it was, a monolith of silvery metal etched with grey yet fitfully-shimmering iron. Five black jade steps led up to the golden gates, which swung slowly open. A great lion sidled slightly to the right, growling under its breath.

"All hands now departing for Yu-Shan! Stay in formation and make no hostile moves. These are your gods, oh Luthe, so...behave...yourselves."

"Wish I had Xander to examine the geomancy here," Fred sighed. He had an intuition about buildings that she hadn't realized would carry over to manse construction. Of course, he was still just beginning, and she wasn't planning to make this permanent anyway. Still, it needed to work.

They had reached a crescent-shaped isle that seemed composed largely of beach. It might have been a great vacation spot, if the sand were a color other than dull grey, the trees had borne unshrivelled fruit, and there had been no permanent whirlpool at the lagoon center.

"Whirlpool goes down into the Labyrinth," Renjin said, studying the instruments. "Do we need to open the portal there?"

"No," Fred murmured. "I think anywhere will do so long as we don't want a permanent gate. This might be a good place for one, though, if we decided to make one."

A gaggle of sweaty sailors came staggering out, bent under the weight of a metal platform. She'd been forced to scavenge a bit of starmetal for her circuitry, but the majority was ordinary lead. The most important thing was to avoid unnecessary energy flux.

"Here goes nothing," Fred said as she raised the starmetal ring into position. "Qrdmlzf!" The ring buzzed and hummed. Lightning crackled through the center...and fizzled out. "Humph. Must not have pronounced it right. Or really there are a thousand things that might be off."

Kolohi groaned. "Fun times, Fred. Fun times."

Willow walked through halls that were neither soulsteel nor dreamstuff nor starmetal. They had been carved out of death itself, torn by the flailing minds of dying Primordials. One minute they were floored with tiles veined like marble; another they were a mazy natural cavern, rough-bottomed and barely-navigable.

Tara walked huddled in on herself, and DoppelBuffy was hardly better, skittering along nervously and staring. Son of Crows and Meticulous Owl walked boldly, aware that they belonged here, but even they seemed perpetually on their guard.

Willow would have none that. She could feel the ebb and flow of the nonenergy that made up these caverns. If she chose, she could make them dance to her whim. Had their destination been their own choice, she might have done so. But for now, she had to be cautious Willow, had to let the tunnel choose its path at the Neverborn's will. They had a goal.

She rounded a corner that should have taken them almost a hundred-eighty, back the way they came, and instead her feet came to rest on crumbling scree. Beyond lay only a great black vortex orbited by vast cyclopean island-buildings, and its center was not even black. Even her own jet-black eyes shied away from the nothing at the vortex's heart.

Here. You have come, the two of you. Here. Beyond us lies nothing, the end of hope, an end most hoped-for. Here, Son of Crows. Here, Hanged Scholar. Behold the Crowd of Gods. Behold the Decreator. Behold what we are denied: Oblivion.

Speak your names. Speak, and forsake them forever.

You are ours.