Chapter 16.

Dawn's use of the word 'terrifying' for Strega proved to be no overstatement, as both Buffy and Spike learned to their shock. The Samarian may have been just as taken by surprise as were the three remaining Kridjatori but he rallied with a speed that was truly remarkable. The four fighters launched themselves through the large skylights amid a hail of glass, crouching low on landing and moving swiftly sidewards so that Giles and Gunn were able to follow with a volley of crossbow bolts aimed at the 'bearcat' Dawn and Adanar had insisted was a greater danger than the oversized and well trained Kridjatori fighters.

The creature had been chained against the return of the slave taking party and although fatally wounded by the bolts it would not die immediately. It screamed and threw itself against its massive bonds until the thick steel reinforced cement pillar it was chained to creaked and bowed alarmingly. Strega was in no position to release it as he found himself facing Buffy and Spike, positioned between his pet and himself and whom he quickly realised posed the greatest threat to his own life he had faced in almost a decade.

Buffy and Spike found themselves barely within sword range of the ex-paladin before having to parry lightening fast flicks from the whip that appeared in his left hand. Moving together, Slayer and vampire edged him further away from his beast and began to slowly circle him, studying his moves and seeking a weakness. They did not have to spare a glance at each other to know that if there was a weakness in their opponent's skills it had to be as minute and brief as Dawn and Adanar had surmised. Raising an eyebrow and sounding somewhat bored Strega asked,
"What is this; the vampire has a soul andthe human partners a demon? How very unusual, especially as I see you have fought beside each other many times."

"Our best fights have been with each other; wouldn't you agree pet?"
Spike found his flurry of blows easily parried and he was forced to back off. Buffy managed to draw first blood on the Samarian; a small gash to a leather clad arm. Strega cursed and sent her reeling from a well placed kick to her midriff. As he followed, Spike drove his booted foot into his thigh and almost bringing him to his knees.

The blond Slayer felt her ribs gingerly before informing the Samarian,
"Not bad but Spike has a much harder punch when he's not getting his own way. It's best to try and steer clear of those boots of his too. Oh wait; that's mainly when he insists on dancing with you. Two left feet, you see."

Dawn and Adanar had an advantage over the slower responding Kridjatori and were able to land the first blows and draw the first blood. Adanar landed a telling strike on the first Kridjatori he first faced, cleaving a deep wound to the back of the demon's thigh, severing a large muscle and hobbling it so that they were able to fight the other two one on one. Dawn drew blood on her opponent as she dodged and danced nimbly in and out of the demon's reach. The Kridjatori roared and raged in pain and frustration as he swung wildly. To Giles, Gunn and Willow watching through the skylights above the girl was moving with all the swift power as he Slayer sister, while the Ganaru moved little, standing as solid as a mountain and swatted the sword coming at him away as if it were a particularly irritating fly.

They didn't have the fight going their way for too many minutes as the Kridjatori recovered from their shock and began fighting back with strength, speed and cunning. A well parried sword blow sent Dawn staggering backwards dangerously close to the snarling bearcat, so that she was forced to twist in mid air and roll out of reach in an ungraceful scramble. She came to her feet and launched herself back towards her foe swearing loudly in Kridjatori and startling him into taking a closer look at her. He parried a blow but she struck back with speed to open a gash on his upper sword arm.
"You know our tongue?"

"Well now, it doesn't exactly stretch the brain to learn to grunt like an animal, does it?"
She slowly edged him in an arc and delivered a flurry of strikes that he parried without realising she was forcing back towards the bearcat.

"You wear Badri leather and he is .. It can't be!"
He lowered his sword as he realised who he faced and Dawn stepped in neatly and dealt a killing slash to his stomach. The demon stared down at his bulging entrails before sinking to his knees and staring up at Dawn in disbelief.

Keeping her sword poised and ready for another strike if needed, she smiled at him mirthlessly and stated,
"Yeah, it most definitely can be. I won twenty eight fights in the Death Ring fighting solo and another thirty with my pair-brother. They called me Kana but my name is Dawn. See my pretty knife? Oh, you're no fun; dead already."

She kicked the still kneeling body in the chest and the bearcat snagged it, tugging it closer. Dawn watched and muttered,
"Only enough brains to kill and eat. Don't even realise you'll be dead before you get that down your throat. Ooohf!"

A huge hand snagged her ankle and she paid for her lapse in concentration with a heavy fall that drove the breath from her as the pain of torn muscles burned outwards from her right shoulder. She dodged a sword strike by more chance than skill as she rolled away. The injured Kridjatori had managed to crawl back to the wall and was hauling himself to his feet, a rough bandage stemming the bleeding from his thigh.

She bit her lip against the pain of her shoulder and told him angrily but honestly,
"I so deserve that! Damn it, I think you could have dislocated my shoulder! That makes it pay back time, big ugly!"

Adanar spared her a frowning glance as he was forced to back pedal from a flurry of blows, his shirt clinging wet with blood from a shallow gash to his chest. Nodding as she turned to face her new opponent, the Ganaru felt his limbs growing heavy with exhaustion and he thanked his Gods that the creature he faced appeared to be in a worse state than himself. He would have liked to see how Buffy and Spike were doing against Strega but wouldn't allow himself to be distracted as had Dawn. The tired Ganaru moved back into the fight.

The three bystanders were restless. Used to being part of the fight, they were finding it hard to stand back watching developments. Gunn thought out loud as he watched the bearcat feeding on the dead demon,
"Five bolts in its hide and the damn thing is stopping for a snack? I should go down and find the one's that missed it and finish the job!"

Giles shook his head,
"They need all the space they have down there. It'd be hard to get a clear shot with the way they are being tossed about. Dawn and Adanar are fighting like Slayers but I'm beginning to think it's going to take all four of them to beat Strega. Willow, can you see that black sword of his?"

Willow winced as Spike had his leg tugged from under him by Strega's whip. The slaver loosened the lash with a flick of his wrist and it fell free while blood oozed from the circular cut on the blond vamps leg. She answered Giles,puzzled,
"He has it strapped to his back like Dawn wears hers. Why doesn't he use it? There's a lot of power there; more than an ego sword should have. It's very powerful, Giles!"

"How much power do you have left, Willow? We made need a spell or two unless they kill this fellow soon."
Giles sounded worried.

"Adanar gave me these yesterday, thank the Goddess! I charged one with power and he charged the other with his healing magic."
She showed him a simple chain with two of the precious Berdea crystals that she had worn tucked away under her top. Giles was relieved and Gunn whistled as the crystals glowed as the little witch touched them with a gentle finger.

Adanar's opponent died with a scream fading into a bloody death rattle as the Ganaru's sword pierced his heart and was withdrawn. A hasty glance to where Dawn was battling a fading Kridjatori allowed him to take a few well deserved, deep breaths as he cleaned his sword on the dead demon's shirt automatically. He turned towards the more serious battle as Spike dropped to the floor, stunned and weak from a series of whip slashes. Buffy hastily wiped her eyes clear of blood that fell freely from a gash to her forehead and dodged a swift sword stroke.

Strega showed signs of tiring also; he stumbled a little and his shoulders dropped into a slouch as he backed away briefly in order to catch his breath. He glanced towards his pet and his rage grew as he saw that it would not last much longer. As he and Buffy swayed and feinted, the slaver growled to see the last Kridjatori go down from a slashing downwards stab Dawn delivered with her black-bladed knife. That damn slave girl and her Ganaru pair! How was it that they were alive and here?

He dodged and parried a blow from the tiny blond woman; a mere girl really. Hadretz and the others must be dead or else they would have been back by now. At least, Hadretz was to have returned after indicating the slaves to be taken. Strega sensed the others on the roof and felt a twinge of concern at being able to feel the magic power of one who waited there. No matter; his focus must be this human female who fought as well as he himself. One of the Slayers that fool Hadretz had fantasised about? Time enough to discover the truth after he killed her, he thought, as he stepped up to deliver a flurry of blows intended to send her into the paws of his dying bearcat.

Buffy was forced back slowly as she parried and dodged, aware of what he was attempting to do and fought just as hard to keep clear of the beast. She moaned as his whip snaked painfully around her sword arm and the blade fell from her hand. Having trapped her, Strega began reeling her in with a cruel smile. She tried to dig in her heels and unwind the leather cutting deeply into her arm, watching warily as he dropped the sword he held, reached over his shoulder and unsheathed the blade Dawn had told them about; the ego sword. The black blade throbbed and seemed to send out a shadow that widened and deepened as the Samarian held it towards her. The menace from the thing was palpable and drove her to more frantic efforts to free herself.

Adanar gasped, looked for Willow and called to her in a voice hoarse with shock and fear,
"Willow! The blade; the blade is a soul-stealer! You must … "

His voice stopped as Strega muttered a word or two and pointed the sword in his direction. As her friend hit the floor twitching violently before becoming ominously still, Dawn made her move. Having slowly manoeuvred to gain his blind side, she silently launched herself into a low dive towards his knees. Yelling with pain as her injured shoulder connected with his hard leather boots, she heaved herself to her knees, sending him sprawling and causing him to lose his grip on both the whip and his sword. Spike roused himself enough to crawl to Buffy and drag her back from the reach of the bearcat as she fought to free her arm of the whip's leather thong.

Strega and Dawn found themselves laying stretched full length, belly down and with barely a foot and a half distance between their faces. Both had lost their weapons and reached for the one that was closest; the soul-stealer ego blade laying not more than two feet from their outstretched arms. Dawn felt as if she was swimming in molasses and terror. The baneful power from the blade made her skin crawl and her mind scream with revulsion. She levered herself higher on her damaged arm and forced her hand closer to the hilt.

"What? No! Noooo!"
Strega screamed in disbelief as the sword, his sword, evaded his fingertips even as they touched the hilt, slid towards his opponent and into her hand. Dawn sucked in air as the hilt seemed to mould itself into her grip and a new strength pulsed through her tired body. She pulled herself to her knees and looked from the sword in her hand to the cowering Strega, her face twisted into a mask of disgusted horror. The Samarian backed away on hands and knees, his eyes never leaving the sword that had come to him whenever he had called it, only to desert him now for this slave, this human, and he knew his soul was lost.

"What have you done? This was a weapon made to do good, to protect the weak and you have forced it to do evil. You have made it do foul things; things that have sent it half mad and sick with horror. It and every soul you trapped in it."
Dawn's face reflected a great struggle but only he and she knew that the voices of those he had trapped in the sword with its original ego echoed through her head. Ignoring the agony every movement caused her shoulder she let the hilt of the sword slip back in her hand so the blade rested along her outstretched arm.

"Free yourselves! Take him!"
Screaming in rage and hate, she gave her wrist a swift twist and the blade slashed forward, leaping from her hand to fly point first into and through the Samarian's throat, pinning him to the wall. He spewed blood and should have died instantly, but the blade shattered and many shadows leapt from it and they all watched as the whispering, cursing shadows tore and ripped at Strega's soul even as it left his dying body. Somehow he managed a final, tortured scream that caused them all to turn their faces away, while out over the docklands demons and humans alike shuddered and felt the chill of terror against their minds.