Part 8:

Buffy did not know how long they had tried to find their way out of Dys. It felt like years to her. From the outside the walled city that was the sixth circle of Hell had looked big. From the inside, though, it appeared to be endless.

It did not help, of course, that they had to hide almost constantly. Some way or other the Furies, the rulers of Dys, had learned of their presence and were looking for them. They did not know why. Maybe Pluto, ruler of the fourth circle, was still mad at them and had convinced the Furies to exact vengeance for him. Maybe they were just interested in the living walking among the many dead of their city. Maybe they had reasons all their own.

Buffy knew but one thing. She hated having to hide. It did not freak her out like it had in the fourth circle, maybe she was getting used to it, but she still did not like it. For too long they had been forced to hide, to sneak. She was the Slayer, damn it, and even after all this time down here it was still hard for her to accept being the prey now, not the hunter.

The streets of Dys were like a labyrinth, telling them apart was almost impossible. Burning graves lined both sides, the damned souls inside them screaming as the flames devoured them alive over and over again. Dys was the final destination for those who had put themselves up as gods or committed atrocities under the cover of religion and faith. Buffy did not doubt that many of the people here deserved punishment for the things they had done in life. Still, she had a hard time imagining that anyone deserved this, no matter what he had done.

Maybe it was this impotent rage she felt, combined with her distaste for being reduced to mere prey, which caused them to be captured by the Furies. She did not know and Angel would certainly never put any blame on her, of course. Maybe it was nobody's fault. Maybe they had been lucky to remain free for as long as they did.

It did not change the fact that said freedom was now at an end.

The Furies were creatures of terrible beauty. Looking at them caused tears of blood to run down Buffy's cheeks and they found great pleasure in making her weep. They needed but days to discover the bond between her and Angel and made use of it for themselves, separating the two of them for long distances of time until Buffy was reduced to a shivering wreck and Angel was almost insane with worry for her.

The Furies tortured them endlessly, both in body and in spirit. Neither of them would later be able to tell how long they had spent in Dys' dungeons. Years, certainly. For a time they both went insane, the only way to protect themselves from the horrors all around them. Buffy forgot all about Earth, forgot her own name, the only thing that was real were the Furies, the tortures, and her need for her mate, whose name she had forgotten as well. Angel was barely more than an animal, a demonic beast willing to rend everyone and everything into pieces that stood between it and its mate. The Furies took great delight in playing games with them.

One day they escaped. Neither of them was certain how they did it, the memories of their time at the Furies' mercy dim and repressed. For months afterwards one or sometimes both of them would wake from sleep, almost insane with fear and terror, thinking that they were still imprisoned, that their freedom was nothing but a dream. They needed time to remember their own names, to remember the purpose of their journey, to remember where they wanted to go.

They both made a vow to themselves and each other. No one would ever imprison them again. No one would ever separate them again. And from now on in they were done with hiding.

#

"I hate this," Buffy said, not for the first time. "Thanks to Post we can't even go to the library anymore. And she is always sitting in my chair. My chair! I bet she knows it's mine, the bitch."

Angel shared her frustration. The Watcher's presence was making things harder for all of them and considering all the things currently on their plate they certainly did not need this added complication.

The sun had gone down but half an hour ago and they would soon meet with Willow and the rest of the gang at their apartment, both to destroy the Glove of Mhynegon and to perform a tracking spell that should tell them where to find Amy. With a little luck two of their problems would be dealt with tonight.

"Giles and Faith have no choice but to tolerate Post," Angel reminded Buffy. "If the Council decides to remove Giles as Faith's Watcher it would lead to all kinds of trouble. I don't think Faith can take being uprooted again this soon."

Buffy sighed. "I know. I just hate this. Remember that we promised ourselves that we would never hide again?"

Angel nodded, he certainly remembered. In some ways their time in Dys had been the worst part of their journey, if for no other reason than their lengthy separations at the Furies' hands. They had stayed true to their promise after that. All through circles seven, eight, and nine they had refused to hide.

Like with so many other things, though, returning to Earth had changed things for them. Angel knew that Buffy was getting frustrated with having to hide her eyes behind contact lenses all the time. Now they had to keep their heads down because of a snotty Englishwoman who seemed to think that Sunnydale should come to a stop at her say-so and could cause no end of trouble for them if she found out they were both still alive.

It was one of the reasons they were out this early. They both needed to work off some frustration.

"You'd think with a big new vampire leader in town the undead would be a bit more active." Buffy looked around the cemetery they were patrolling. There was not a demon in sight.

"Many of the local vampires still don't know about my changing back," Angel reminded her. "They might be staying low until the question of leadership in Sunnydale has sorted itself out."

Buffy gave him a worried glance. "If that Khan guy wants to be the new big bad on the Hellmouth he might decide to get rid of the competition, Angel. Real or imagined."

Angel nodded, he had thought about that as well.

Their thoughts were interrupted by a growl hailing from one of the nearby crypts. Buffy and Angel shared a quick smirk, their bodies singing with the anticipation of battle. They moved as one, slipping through the shadows with barely a sound to be heard.

Inside the crypt someone had wrenched open one of the coffins and was busily searching through the interior, throwing away bones and ripping withered clothing. His back was turned to them, but seeing as he was at least eight feet tall and wore a huge ax strapped to his back there was little doubt about what he was.

"Lagos, you think?" Buffy whispered to Angel.

Giles had not been able to supply them with an illustration of the demon in question, but what little they had read of him seemed to support Buffy's theory. Lagos was supposed to be a warrior demon, big and strong, though not among the great thinkers of the late 20th century.

"I'll go and ask him," Buffy finally decided. They both stepped out of the shadows. "Hey, ugly!"

The demon turned around, snarling at them. Neither of them was very impressed. Buffy unsheathed her sword and twirled the gleaming blade in her hand, smiling broadly.

"You're just what the Slayer ordered."

Fighting alongside Faith was slowly restoring Buffy's taste for puns. She still did not run her mouth like she used to, but she was already a far cry from the deathly serious warrior who had emerged from Hell a few months ago.

Angel drew his own sword, but held back for the moment. Buffy needed to let off some steam worse than he did. Lagos, if that was whom they were facing, snarled once more and then lunged for them. Both of them easily evaded his hulking frame, Buffy slashing her sword down in a vicious arc to draw first blood as he barreled past her.

The battle did not last long. Lagos was strong and tough, evident by the fact that their kicks and punches did little to hurt him, but he was not impervious to a steel edge. It took Buffy and Angel less than three minutes to maneuver him into a position where he left himself wide open. One sword stroke later his head rolled across the floor of the crypt, his body crumbling where it stood.

Buffy regarded the fallen demon for a moment, then sighed disappointedly.

"I was expecting more of a workout here," she huffed. "Post sure made this guy sound a lot tougher than he turned out to be."

"Let's just be thankful he did not get his hands on the Glove of Mhynegon. I suspect things would not have gone quite that easy."

He checked his watch. "We should probably head home, Buffy. The others will be coming soon."

The Slayer picked up Lagos' huge battle-ax, slinging it over her shoulder. If nothing else she was still getting a little trophy out of this very disappointing workout.

"I hope this Living Flame thing doesn't mess up our living room. We just got everything arranged perfectly."

"We'll put some sheets over the couch first."

TO BE CONTINUED