The group sat down quickly, and Willow took a deep breath. "If your eyes
aren't closed," she instructed urgently, "They should be on the bowl. Keep
your gaze on the bowl at all costs. Do *not* look at Buffy. It could kill
us and it could kill her. Stay still. Stay quiet. Concentrate on what I
say."
Her hands shook slightly as she went on. "We pray to thee, Gods, hear our
call. Combine our strengths to shroud the one in battle. Cover her,
Spirits, with the unity of our circle. Enjoin us and make our strengths
hers."
The roar of vampires, the soft sounds of Buffy grunting, the shriek of demons
disintegrating into dust pierced the air.
Sweat beaded Willow's forehead as she continued. Xander trembled. Tears
slipped from Cordelia's eyes. Oz clenched his hands into fists. Angel and
Giles looked stubbornly at the bowl, not willing to let the pain of
concentration mar Buffy's chance at survival.
~Do *not* look at Buffy... Do *not* look at Buffy.~
* * * * * *
Buffy was in the middle of an onslaught. Vampires came at her from every
which way, dust clogged her lungs and stung her eyes. Stubbornly, she kept
moving, working her way through the crowd of them. No funny words, no puns,
just simple stakings in every direction as she tried to make her way to the
grave across the cemetery.
It was happening there.
She didn't know exactly what, but something wriggled in the back of her mind,
waiting to be recognized and remembered. Something... And that something was
happening at that very moment.
Another staking, and another. Breathe, move forward.
Two vampires came at her back, stupidly howling with gusto-- didn't they know
that she could hear them coming?-- and she quickly spun and ducked, tripping
the first one so he tumbled over her head in a clumsy heap. She sprung up
fast, flipping in a neat somersault over the second, and staked him in the
back before he realized that she was no longer in front of him.
As the first groaned and began to get up, she kneed him in the chin and when
he fell back down, slid her hand in a smooth arch downward, letting the stake
give death yet again.
She kept moving. ~Always keep moving. Can't stop. Keep moving.~
Most of the vampires were minions, newly raised and inexperienced. Easy
kills. But there were some... She could feel the power coming off of them.
They were older. Not quite as old as the Master, maybe-- she was pretty sure
that there were even a couple younger than Angel-- but still old enough to
stay out of her way as they tried to....
Tried to what? The thought slipped from her mind again as she staked another
vamp. The crunch of leaves behind her alerted her and she swung around,
catching the fist that was rapidly nearing her face. Mechanically, she
twisted the wrist until she heard a loud snap and then kicked the inside of
the vampire's leg outwards, effectively breaking his knee. She grabbed his
hair with one hand as he went down, holding him up, and with the other hand
reached behind herself and took hold of the small battle ax strapped to her
back and swung it around, beheading him. His blood stained her face before
he dissipated but she didn't stop to wipe it away before she began moving
again.
She smiled as she embedded her stake into still another vampire's chest.
~Now *this* is just like old times.~
And then there was peace for a moment as the vamps backed off, still
surrounding her, but only eyeing her warily. They were ready to attack, of
course, even ready to die for what was happening tonight. But were they as
ready as she was?
In the sudden stillness, she caught a glimpse of the older vampires, still a
few hundred feet away from her and guarded by many. One of them, the oldest
she knew, sprinkled water on the ground until the dirt sizzled and smoked.
Another read from a scroll and some chanted at the appropriate intervals.
And then the fog cleared from her mind and she remembered, remembered that
they were trying to raise the Old Ones, remembered that the future of the
world rested in her fighting hands upon that night and moment. Her eyebrow
cocked and she started moving again.
~Keep moving. No matter what you do, keep moving. Keep moving.~
* * * * *
"Shouldn't you be able to, like, see her in the bowl or something?" Cordelia
gritted out, pain etched across her face.
"You're the psychic," Willow pointed out, her voice rough. "Now shut up."
Steam rose off the bowl as it worked its magick on all of them, on Buffy, and
the water sparkled from a light that seemed to exist underneath it, making
the petals that drifted on top seem to glow. Willow started whispering in
Latin, letting all of her strength leave her body to bind the spell.
Giles sucked in his breath.
And then everyone who had been closing their eyes opened them and looked at
the bowl, where the petals of the two flowers were beginning to float.
They dripped water and shined in the dim moonlight, luminescent, and twirled
gracefully through the air. Slowly, piece by piece, petal by petal, they
began to come together. One here and one there and soon they were in the
shape of a flower. Neither rose nor carnation but somehow both, the most
beautiful aspects of each, hovered in the air above the bowl of water,
droplets falling off of them like diamonds.
"It's working," Willow sighed in relief, her shoulders sagging, her gaze on
the flower. "It's really working. She's protected."
Angel's mouth tightened at that as he looked at the piece of artistry before
them, and he nodded to himself, catching the tears filling his eyes before
they fell.
~She's protected.~
aren't closed," she instructed urgently, "They should be on the bowl. Keep
your gaze on the bowl at all costs. Do *not* look at Buffy. It could kill
us and it could kill her. Stay still. Stay quiet. Concentrate on what I
say."
Her hands shook slightly as she went on. "We pray to thee, Gods, hear our
call. Combine our strengths to shroud the one in battle. Cover her,
Spirits, with the unity of our circle. Enjoin us and make our strengths
hers."
The roar of vampires, the soft sounds of Buffy grunting, the shriek of demons
disintegrating into dust pierced the air.
Sweat beaded Willow's forehead as she continued. Xander trembled. Tears
slipped from Cordelia's eyes. Oz clenched his hands into fists. Angel and
Giles looked stubbornly at the bowl, not willing to let the pain of
concentration mar Buffy's chance at survival.
~Do *not* look at Buffy... Do *not* look at Buffy.~
* * * * * *
Buffy was in the middle of an onslaught. Vampires came at her from every
which way, dust clogged her lungs and stung her eyes. Stubbornly, she kept
moving, working her way through the crowd of them. No funny words, no puns,
just simple stakings in every direction as she tried to make her way to the
grave across the cemetery.
It was happening there.
She didn't know exactly what, but something wriggled in the back of her mind,
waiting to be recognized and remembered. Something... And that something was
happening at that very moment.
Another staking, and another. Breathe, move forward.
Two vampires came at her back, stupidly howling with gusto-- didn't they know
that she could hear them coming?-- and she quickly spun and ducked, tripping
the first one so he tumbled over her head in a clumsy heap. She sprung up
fast, flipping in a neat somersault over the second, and staked him in the
back before he realized that she was no longer in front of him.
As the first groaned and began to get up, she kneed him in the chin and when
he fell back down, slid her hand in a smooth arch downward, letting the stake
give death yet again.
She kept moving. ~Always keep moving. Can't stop. Keep moving.~
Most of the vampires were minions, newly raised and inexperienced. Easy
kills. But there were some... She could feel the power coming off of them.
They were older. Not quite as old as the Master, maybe-- she was pretty sure
that there were even a couple younger than Angel-- but still old enough to
stay out of her way as they tried to....
Tried to what? The thought slipped from her mind again as she staked another
vamp. The crunch of leaves behind her alerted her and she swung around,
catching the fist that was rapidly nearing her face. Mechanically, she
twisted the wrist until she heard a loud snap and then kicked the inside of
the vampire's leg outwards, effectively breaking his knee. She grabbed his
hair with one hand as he went down, holding him up, and with the other hand
reached behind herself and took hold of the small battle ax strapped to her
back and swung it around, beheading him. His blood stained her face before
he dissipated but she didn't stop to wipe it away before she began moving
again.
She smiled as she embedded her stake into still another vampire's chest.
~Now *this* is just like old times.~
And then there was peace for a moment as the vamps backed off, still
surrounding her, but only eyeing her warily. They were ready to attack, of
course, even ready to die for what was happening tonight. But were they as
ready as she was?
In the sudden stillness, she caught a glimpse of the older vampires, still a
few hundred feet away from her and guarded by many. One of them, the oldest
she knew, sprinkled water on the ground until the dirt sizzled and smoked.
Another read from a scroll and some chanted at the appropriate intervals.
And then the fog cleared from her mind and she remembered, remembered that
they were trying to raise the Old Ones, remembered that the future of the
world rested in her fighting hands upon that night and moment. Her eyebrow
cocked and she started moving again.
~Keep moving. No matter what you do, keep moving. Keep moving.~
* * * * *
"Shouldn't you be able to, like, see her in the bowl or something?" Cordelia
gritted out, pain etched across her face.
"You're the psychic," Willow pointed out, her voice rough. "Now shut up."
Steam rose off the bowl as it worked its magick on all of them, on Buffy, and
the water sparkled from a light that seemed to exist underneath it, making
the petals that drifted on top seem to glow. Willow started whispering in
Latin, letting all of her strength leave her body to bind the spell.
Giles sucked in his breath.
And then everyone who had been closing their eyes opened them and looked at
the bowl, where the petals of the two flowers were beginning to float.
They dripped water and shined in the dim moonlight, luminescent, and twirled
gracefully through the air. Slowly, piece by piece, petal by petal, they
began to come together. One here and one there and soon they were in the
shape of a flower. Neither rose nor carnation but somehow both, the most
beautiful aspects of each, hovered in the air above the bowl of water,
droplets falling off of them like diamonds.
"It's working," Willow sighed in relief, her shoulders sagging, her gaze on
the flower. "It's really working. She's protected."
Angel's mouth tightened at that as he looked at the piece of artistry before
them, and he nodded to himself, catching the tears filling his eyes before
they fell.
~She's protected.~