Author's Note:

Howdy all! Sorry for the lateness between chapters but I've been extremely busy lately and I just haven't been able to write as often as I did before.

Anyways, just wanted to take a moment to let you all know that I will be responding to any and all questions you may have in the reviews section of the story. That way it won't interfere with the overall flow of the story (which would be a lot faster if I could get my bearings, but, alas, I digress). Let it all out there and I promise I'll do my best to answer as soon as possible (which I have already done for some).

Thanks again for the wonderful reviews, folks. You have no idea how much your words affect me and the way I write the story. Thank youfor sticking with this little story and giving it a chance. I apologize in advance for anything that may seem off in this chapter, since I haven't written a single word on this or any story for about 4 months... maybe more. So, with that in mind, enjoy this next lil' offering (hopefully). I'll try to have new chapters soon. Very soon.

I hope... ;-)

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Chapter X: The forest in the desert.

The wind blows across the desert's sky. The night is young. The air cool. A black car seemingly flies above the sandy silhouettes and dunes, pushing forward across the Earth towards an unknown destiny. Through its right window a hand slowly twists and turns, dancing with the currents, feeling the flow of the force they carry. It's 10:15 pm Los Angeles time, and it's been seven minutes since they left the office.

Calmly listening to the plethora of voices that cry in whispers, Wesley retracts his arm, covering his mouth with it just as he releases a weary yawn. Hamilton looks towards the rear-view mirror, then back at the endless mountains of dust before him.

"Tired, sir?" he asks.

Wesley shrugs. He turns his attention towards Hamilton who doesn't shake his sight from what lies ahead. "You can say that, yes," he finally responds.

"Don't worry, sir. We'll be there soon."

Wesley scoffs then looks out the window again. "You said that twenty minutes ago."

"No, I didn't. It's only been five minutes."

"Wesley pauses for a moment in an attempt to register the information. "Huh. Right," he scoffs. "Felt longer."

Hamilton sighs. "You know, sir, we are playing with every conceivable law of Physics. Interdimensional travel takes time to master. It's not like we're tearing a gap in reality, or waltzing through time, this is serious magicks we're dealing with."

They remain silent for a few interminable seconds.

Wesley scratches his chin. "So, by your implication, you're saying that I don't understand how complex this is?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. I'm just saying a midget in a fuchsia-colored tutu can tear a gap in reality. It's easy. I mean, if Angel's kid did it..." he says chuckling. "All I'm saying is," he continues more collected, "that you don't appreciate the complexity of the situation. You understand the magicks, but you don't appreciate the time they take."

"Why would I want to appreciate the time it takes you to get us to where I want to go?"

"Because this is a wholly new experience for me."

"You're not going to get all Born-Again Christian on me, are you?"

"What? Is there something wrong with that?"

"No," he says after a pause. "I just don't feel like taking that kind of excitement right now."

"Suit yourself. I'm rather enjoying the intrigue."

"I don't doubt it," Wesley responds coldly.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence pass.

"How much longer till we get there?" asks Wesley.

"I already told you," scoffs Hamilton.

Wesley snickers. "You are such an easy target."

"Said the man with the most collective screw-ups in recorded history."

"I think Julius Caesar, Napoleon and Hitler had plenty more than I do."

"All how you look at the glass. Sir."

Wesley shakes his head in dismay, then turns his gaze towards the darkness outside. Marcus drives onward with a gleeful smirk. After a long while Wesley starts feeling his attention dissipate and his head numbing increasingly, when a couple of shadows underneath the moonlight begin rising ahead in their direction. Hamilton pushes the accelerator and the car blasts towards the gloomy figures in its path.

The car rushes into a dark forest that seems to have grown in the desert. The trees themselves are a wonder to behold. Their trunks rival the strength, grace and beauty of the Statue of Liberty, yet for all the awe it inspires it instills a quivering sensation of fear. They stand tall, like vigilant giants that stomp their feet at the unwelcome ants that crawl their way through their midst. Their branches extend in every direction like claws reaching for ones very soul. Their leaves dance with one another in a hypnotic waltz as they slowly rain down upon the lone dark road crossing their forest.

Yet perhaps the most impressive feature of this surreal and frightful place is the bushels of blooming black roses that grow to the sides of the road. The petals glow underneath the moonlight, gleaming in a majestic splendor of dark silvery light. Wesley stares at them in wonder when he feels the Circle symbol embedded upon the top of his left-hand burn as if provoked by the presence of the roses. He looks at it as he closes his hand into a fist. He looks up to Hamilton beside him and sighs.

"Are we there yet?" he finally lets out.

Hamilton looks at Wesley and a quiet laugh escapes the confines of his jaw. He points towards the large black tower ahead that seems to resemble an unbreakable thorn spiraling out of the Earth in an endless dance towards the Heavens, far beyond the reach of the trees that surround it. He drives around the immense structure and parks beside the lone entrance lighted by two silver torches with glimmering black fire. Hamilton looks towards the entrance through Wesley's window.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Like there's no tomorrow," Wesley responds.

"Excellent," Marcus says as he opens his door.

They both step out of their car and steadily make their way towards the silver torches. Wesley stops before them and turns towards Hamilton with uncertainty in his eyes. Marcus turns around and notices that the black car they were driving has vanished. He looks back at Wesley, who, in turn, shakes his head and walks inside.

"Never seem to get used to that," he says as he steps into the foyer of the dark tower.

"Kind of cool, if you ask me," responds Hamilton.

"Have you ever wondered why I hardly do?" Wesley retorts after a brief pause.

"Not at all, sir. I find that my insights are often too complex to be understood even by great minds such as yours. But, no worries, I have since learned to cope with that knowledge."

"I'm very happy for you."

"Why, thank you, sir," Marcus answers with a smug grin. "That really means a lot to me."

Wesley shakes his head with a smile curled firmly on his lips as they press onward towards a pedestal that stands in the middle, lit by torches set circling it all around the walls. The tower itself, however, is a hollow and empty shell. Wesley and Hamilton walk towards the small pillar and Wesley places his left hand firmly on its top. A loud, clanking noise rumbles across the tower and before them a staircase lit by torches appears, leading into the ground. They walk towards them and proceed inside. Wesley looks at his watch and is slightly shocked when he notices it reads 10:19.

As they make their way in forceful silence across the downward spiral torches light themselves ahead in order to show them the way. Minutes seemingly fly as they continue down the never-ending staircase, yet the watch remains the same as when they begun their descent. After a long and tiresome walk they hear a soft huffing noise coming in their direction. They stop in their tracks and after a while a built black man in running shorts passes them by with a smile and a wave.

"Howdy," he says as he continues his race up the stairs.

Wesley looks at Hamilton. "Morning jogs," responds Marcus callously.

Wesley releases an exuberant sigh and continues downward. After a long while they reach the bottom and a large black door circled across its shape by a ring of black fire. As he stares at it in wonder, Hamilton walks past him and opens the door. A wall of bright, pure light hits Wesley across the face like a mile-high tsunami.

Hamilton smiles and signals him onward. "Shall we?" he asks with a smile. Then, without any possible hint of hesitation, Wesley walks inside. Hamilton follows and the door slams shut.