DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fanfiction produced for entertainment purposes only. Angel, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the creations of Joss Whedon and copyright of 20th Century Fox and Mutant Enemy, Inc. Nemesis is an original character from my Watchtower Gargoyles series. Briarley and Prophecy are original characters from my Witchhaven County series.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter contains major spoilers from the final episode of Angel. There is also some violence.
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Chapter 7: For A Single Heartbeat
By Shadow's Mirror
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Lorne's voice rose into the air with all his heart, soul and gift lending it power. His song wove around the combined music of the River of Time and the four spell-singers on the L.A. rooftop with apparent ease. Only Lorne knew how much effort it took for him to keep singing as his power touched the awesome magics that had been gathered. For a moment he thought his voice would fail him. Such power… He had never felt anything like it before. Fear flooded through him but he ignored it, focusing instead on the memories of his friends. When his voice suddenly merged with the rest of the music, he knew he had found the key to the spell.
As Lorne sang, he kept his gaze locked on the images shimmering in the air above the river, but his mind was focused on the music and what it was telling him. It wasn't all good news. Apparently, he would have only one chance to do what he had to do. If he messed up, there would be no way to save his friends from the fate planned for them by the Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart.
He didn't know how long he stood there singing, watching the battle progress on the aerial screen in front of him. It was probably only a few minutes. It seemed like hours. Then he felt it coming. A shift in the music that he instinctively knew meant the moment he had been waiting for was approaching. Then… it was there! It was now or never!
Lorne gave it everything he had. Suddenly, his was the tune that the rest of the music followed. His voice rang out, overwhelming the song not just with its strength, but with the power that pulsed through it. Power that stunned the very air around him into silent stillness.
Power enough to make the River of Time stop running.
It lasted for no longer than a single heartbeat. Then the river resumed its flow as though it had never been interrupted and Lorne sank to his knees on the riverbank, his magic and energy drained like never before. Even as he panted for breath though, his ruby eyes remained locked on the scenes playing out above the flowing water.
The battle had never been going in their favour, but they'd somehow managed to keep themselves alive for almost ten minutes. Considering what they were up against, that was nothing short of incredible. But now it looked like their luck was beginning to run out.
Spike had learned the weakness of the demons attacking him, but with them knowing that he knew, it wasn't helping him much. Skilled fighters, they knew how to keep their weak points protected when they had to. Still, Spike was no slouch in the fighting department either. He'd managed to take out three of the five creatures, but it had come at a high cost. One of them he'd only managed to kill because it had dropped its guard as it lunged for him. He'd had to make a split-second decision whether to defend himself or attack. He'd chosen to attack. Now the creature lay dead on the ground before him, but it's sword strike had left Spike's left arm numb and useless.
Wincing in pain, he tried to keep going but he was all too well aware that his movements were beginning to slow. He couldn't keep fighting much longer. Not with the same intensity. Even his quips had stopped. When the remaining two creatures were suddenly joined by five more, he was moved to speech though. His curse filled the air, mingling with their battle cries as they charged towards him.
Angel still fought at Spike's back, but his movements had also slowed considerably and he too was now concentrating on the battle rather than wasting his strength talking. During a momentary lull in the fighting, as his opponents had been forced to literally stop and clear a path to get to him, Angel had managed to pull out the sword that one of his previous opponents had pierced him with. He'd been about to throw it away when he'd noticed what a good sword it was. Shrugging to himself, he'd kept hold of it. Since then, it had saved his unlife more than once, as had Spike's earlier comment on the weakness of the Knashifesh demons.
If Angel hadn't known where to strike, the eight Knashifesh who had stepped up to face him would have been a definite problem. As it was, there was a very good chance that they might kill him yet. He'd taken out four of them, but the others were wary now and they were taking great care to keep their necks protected. When they began to charge him together, he knew he was in trouble. Tightening his hold on his sword, Angel prepared to defend and retaliate.
A short distance from where the two ensouled vampires were fighting, another ancient creature fought the demon hordes that the Senior Partners had dared to send against her.
Illyria's battle cry rang through the night air, overwhelming the sounds of battle almost as effortlessly as it had in ages long past. Also as in those lost times, the mere sound made her opponents cringe with fear. Unfortunately, that was all they did. Illyria scowled as the fools continued to attack her. There had been a time when she had been able to send such creatures into the depths of madness with her voice alone. Apparently that was yet another of the powers that had been taken from her.
She was distracted from her musings as the six trolls that she was facing suddenly moved back. Illyria noted the looks of satisfaction on their faces and a strange feeling raced up her spine. Before she could put a name to it, four large creatures with long furry snouts, quills and iron grey armour charged towards her. She parried their attacks with ease and returned them, taking out two with swift strikes to their unprotected necks. Illyria knew these demons, and their weakness was laughable. They were nothing to her. She had ruled while their kind was still evolving up from the primordial ooze.
Illyria did not pause to wonder why only four of the creatures had attacked her when their intelligence would have made them realise that so few would never be enough. She charged forward, raising her sword to strike. The movement off to her right came almost too quickly for her to register it before she felt the blade sink its sharp teeth into her side. She glared at the two smirking pieces of bait and lashed out, anger making her movements swift and precise despite the agony that the motion caused her. It was her turn to smile as the two fools fell to the ground, but her smile was grim and tinged with irony.
The lure-and-strike had been around since even before her! To think that one such as she, who had once ruled over such pitiful creatures as these, should have been tricked in such a way! It was insulting! It was humiliating! It was not something that she would forgive. She turned her attention to the one who had dared strike her, but as she turned she did the unthinkable.
Illyria stumbled.
Her sudden weakness shocked her, but when she glanced down at the sword sticking out of her side she understood. It was a weapon almost as ancient as she was. One that had been forged for one reason, and one reason alone.
To destroy her kind.
For only the third time in her incredibly long life, Illyria knew fear.
Gunn ducked out of the path of the oncoming sword and winced as almost every part of his body reminded him that he was going to die that night. Not that it was a surprise. He'd known it from the beginning. As soon as Angel had told them about his plan and he'd agreed to be part of it.
Like Angel and the others, Gunn's year at Wolfram and Hart had given him considerable knowledge about the true extent of their power. You didn't mess with that kind of power and expect to live through it. What they'd done earlier in the night had been the equivalent of hitting Illyria with a waterbomb. It would irritate her enough for her to seek revenge, but it did nothing more than make her mildly uncomfortable for the time it took her to dry off.
Unfortunately, the Senior Partners' idea of 'revenge' was annihilation with a large side order of pain.
Gunn glanced around, making a note of his adversaries. He was facing three trolls whose faces would stop traffic (and not in a good way), two eight foot anteater/porcupine thingies and something that bore a striking resemblance to a Chihuahua except that it was dark green and had glowing yellow eyes. As his opponents began to close in on him, Gunn tightened his hold on his sword and prepared to fight.
He knew he was going to die, but he was determined to take at least a few of these things down with him! Deciding to go for the most dangerous-looking of his opponents first, Gunn struck out towards the dark green Chihuahua.
Perhaps it was part of the song-spell, or perhaps it was merely a quirk of Destiny that caused all four of the champions' fates to reach such climactic points in their battles at the same moment in time. Whatever the cause, the moment came… and time stopped for a single heartbeat.
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