The Risks of Glory
Ch 6- A Hex?
When Dawn and Riley came in twenty minutes later, they found Buffy sitting at the kitchen counter. She had a look of concentration on her face and her hands wrapped around a cooling cup of coffee. It was obvious that she'd been crying.
As she looked at them, Buffy was sure that Dawn had had a nice good cry as well. If there was one thing the Summers sisters shared, it was looking like crapola when the waterworks came on.
"Hey, guys. I'm glad you're home," Buffy said. "Listen, Riley, could you maybe stay here for just a little bit. I need to run out and check on something; it might be related to my mom…maybe. I mean I'm not sure, I just need to really check."
"Are you sure I shouldn't come with you. For backup…"
"I appreciate it, but I can do this. And I don't want Dawn here alone with mom. She's been…she's…" Buffy struggled against more tears and Riley could guess that something had happened during the afternoon.
He stepped over to her and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Of course I can stay. Whatever you need."
"Has mom," Dawn audibly swallowed, her voice nearly choking, "is she getting worse?"
"Not really, Dawnie. I promise; it's nothing to worry about. It's just that the thing in her brain? It's making her say things. She doesn't really know what's coming out but it can be upsetting. In another day and a half, they'll take out whatever is causing this and she'll be herself again. Until then, promise me you won't take anything she says seriously. Either one of you. Remember, she doesn't mean them."
"O-okay," Dawn said, putting on an approximation of the resolve-face she'd seen Willow use when she was super-serious. "Okay. Is she upstairs?"
"Yeah. I got her to take her pain medication, so I think she'll be fine with a short nap. Um, I was supposed to start dinner, but there's T.V. dinners in the freezer. You can just follow the directions on the back of the box. Riley, I'm so sorry about dinner plans falling through this evening. I know how much you want us to have some alone time…"
"…hey, it's okay," Riley said with another quick kiss to her forehead. "If someone might be causing all of this, or at least taking advantage of it, then you should be out there investigating. Just promise me if you run into Adam, you won't try to fight him by yourself again?"
"I promise." Buffy gave him a quick kiss and then she gathered up her coat, a few stakes, and headed out.
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The ding of the bell over the door announced Buffy's arrival at the Magic Box. She immediately headed toward the back, giving Giles a nod of acknowledgment. He was busy with Ms. Book-woman again. It was the same lady that had been there over the weekend. Ahead of her and sitting at the large round table were Anya, Willow and Tara.
"Hey guys, any luck yet," Buffy asked. They had several books opened between them, along with the Orb of Mystery, warmly glowing away to itself.
"Not yet," Willow blew out a breath of frustration. "I mean, a little. We know that Wraiths won't be attacking us, at least not ones summoned by our ball-thingy."
"And, I'm almost sure it's not the Communist Orb," Anya added. "I still need to check another reference to be sure, if Giles ever completes his sale and gets over here to help me find the manuscript."
"Wasn't she here over the weekend," Buffy asked. "I could swear it was the woman that was hogging his attention before."
"It is," Tara smiled shyly. "Her name is Mrs. Mills. She's divorced, forty-five, no children. She's an assistant librarian specializing in the Eastern European Studies section at the U.C. library. And she's looking to re-enter the dating pool with someone who is intelligent, bookish, and has a sense of…knowing his place in the scheme of things."
Willow giggled, "Tara's been doing some match-making on the sly."
"Nothing sneaky, or anything," she protested. "I just thought, well, it's so hard for Giles to meet people his own age who also believe in the supernatural and are well spoken."
"And I already checked into her background on the internet and with a little bit of snooping on the school's network." Willow smiled warmly as she watched Giles and Lavinia discussing a vial of red liquid. "Nothing comes up suggesting she's a praying mantis, mummy, vampire, evil witch or hellspawn ."
"That was really sweet, Tara. But listen guys," Buffy grew serious, immediately placing everyone back into Scoobie-mode. "I've got some information, maybe. I think this Orb may be connected somehow to what's happening with my mom. The guard that gave me the Orb while I was patrolling? Well in one week, he went whacko. They have him sedated in the mental ward at the hospital."
All three girls at the table immediately jumped out of their chairs and backed away from the table. Giles saw, and excused himself from Mrs. Mills, though with a little regret. She was a delightful woman.
"…won't hurt us. I mean, we've been around it for a week and we're not babbling more than usual," Buffy was saying.
"What am I missing?"
"Oh, Giles…I might have a clue. When I found this on patrol? It was actually the security guard I met that handed it to me. He thought it was a glow-ball for parties…anyway, he's suddenly gone around the bend. I'm telling you, Giles. Something about it is making my spider-sense ding."
"Buffy thinks this is connected to Mrs. Summers," Willow said.
"Right. Like maybe somebody is putting a hex on my mom or something. Somehow this orb is tied into it…we just have to find out who sent it and what they're casting on her."
"B-Buffy, are you sure? I mean, you're mom seems to have a n-natural ailment," Tara said. She didn't want to burst Buffy's hope of a quick fix, but she wasn't aware of any spells that caused this sort of slow, drawn out brain blockage/tumor/thing. It was usually pretty quick, unless it's death by slow poisoning, but even then that wasn't a spell.
"Well, if it is a hex, then that means I was on the right track," Willow said excitedly. "See, I've been using some spare time to look up healing spells or potions. I mean, I haven't found anything quite yet. You'd think after centuries of wizardry, somebody would have come up with a sure-fire healing incantation by now."
"Let me see Mrs. Mills to the door then we can discuss this further. But Willow? I don't want you doing anything mystically to Ms. Summers until you talk to me…"
"He's right, honey," Tara said quietly. "I know you mean well, but those types of spells tend to have unintended consequences."
"They're usually a scam," Anya added. "A witch casts a hex then swoops in with a 'magic cure' for whatever is ailing someone. After she drains the purse of her victim and leaves, the 'magic' suddenly gets revealed as an illusion and the person dies anyway. I've seen it dozens of times…we have a Vengeance Demon, Mara, who specializes in revenge on hexing witches. Or I guess I should say, D'Hoffryn does."
"I appreciate the effort, Willow," Buffy said. "Keep looking, okay?"
As Giles rejoined them, Anya mentioned a trance sort of spell that might help Buffy. That brought up a memory for Giles and he realized the magician that Anya was speaking of.
"Buffy; that spell…that level of meditation can be quite difficult to achieve," he said.
"I get that, Giles. But this for mom; I'll do it. I've been training so hard with you, and I'm really close. What do I need?"
"Here," Giles said, "I'll get you the supplies. Anya can fill you in on the process."
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Buffy returned home at sunset with the wind once again kicking up. Fall was rapidly becoming winter and even in Southern California, a coat was necessary every day now. She entered to find an empty house and a note on the dining room table from Joyce. She had apparently felt much better after a quick nap and didn't want Dawn and Riley to have to eat crappy T.V. dinners, so she'd taken them out to eat. She apologized to Buffy for not waiting to see if she'd be home soon, but Buffy found herself relieved for the house's silence.
Racing up to her room, Buffy set down her supplies. She began a rhythmic chant as she poured the violet-red colored sand in a circle on her carpeting. She started to grimace at the thought of vacuuming it up, and then stopped her mind from wandering. Lighting a white candle, she sat cross-legged within the circle and ended her chant. From there she stared at the light as it glowed through her closed eyelids. Mentally, she reached downward and downward; picturing herself as a diver trying to reach the ocean's bottom.
After a while, and unnoticed to her, the sounds of the wind outside disappeared. Little itches of her skin vanished, and she lost awareness of her breathing. Her mind drifted on her, but not back to mundane things…it continued to drift into a deeper and deeper state of consciousness. Although she wasn't aware of it, she'd stopped reaching for the ocean's bottom and started to approach it automatically. There in front of her was a single bright point of light surrounded by a sea of darkness.
Buffy's mind drifted toward the point of light and then through it. In her bedroom, her eyes jerked open.
She stood slowly, the room brightening and fading with a white glow. All of the colors around her seemed more vibrant than ever before. She could hear her boots scrape along the carpet's fibers and they whispered echoingly with each step.
As she turned the doorknob, it too echoed. As if she was stuck in a cavernous room. Pictures on the wall almost became three-dimensional; like the people in them could step from the frames and be made flesh. As she stared in amazement at how every detail was as sharp and clear as etchings on a glass, her eyes were drawn to Dawn, smiling.
Dawn's image began to fade almost to the point of vanishing. And then it would reappear with the same detail as that of their mother, standing beside her. The effect was occurring rapidly and Joyce's image didn't do the same thing. Buffy stood transfixed and puzzled.
Downstairs, she heard Dawn's laugh and her mother calling her name; checking to see if she'd gotten home yet. She turned away from the odd acting picture and headed downstairs. On her way, she passed by Dawn, watching her sister fade in and out as her photograph had done.
"Buffy? Are you alright…you're looking kinda funny," Dawn said with an echo effect.
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, I think. I'm just a little wore out."
"You should have been here to go to dinner! We had the best lasagna, ever!" Dawn's voice continued to echo, but it was her fading in and out of view that had Buffy so disturbed. Dawn didn't seem to notice any difference and went on chattily, "I need to go to the bathroom, but mom wants to see you since you're home."
"Yeah, I want to see her too."
In the living room, Riley and Joyce stood together sharing a smile. They didn't fade in and out, but their voices were also doing the echo thing. Like her boots against the floor and the doorknob. Apparently, echo was part of her trance state. As Joyce and Riley greeted her, the photograph behind them revealed a picture of Hank. He was so young looking and had one arm around a four or five year old Buffy, while in his other arm was a baby. The baby, Dawn, was fading in and out, leaving Hank cradling a none-to-pleased house cat they used to have instead, and then a baby and then Mr. Meow-Meow again.
"Buffy?" Her mother drew her attention, "I asked if you've eaten, yet? Are you alright?"
Buffy's new sight revealed nothing unusual with her mother. There were no shadows, no fists, and no hands around her throat choking. Nothing but a soft, white glow surrounded her. The same as around her own hands, and around Riley. Even the incredible fading Dawn had shared the same glow, though hers was just the slightest tinge of green.
"Yeah, mom. I'm fine."
"Okay, honey. Maybe you should turn in early. You look a little spacey," Joyce turned and walked toward the kitchen. "I'm going to heat water for tea. Would you like anything, Riley?"
"Oh, no…but thank you Mrs. Summers."
Once Joyce was out of the way, and before Dawn came back from upstairs, Riley took a hold of Buffy's arm. "Buffy? What have you been up to? If I didn't know better, I'd think you'd been toking some funny plant."
"Huh? No. No, I'm…" Buffy pulled out of his grasp and picked up another photo. This one was more recent; from about a year ago. Buffy, Joyce and Dawn were all laying on their mother's bed. Joyce had set the camera's timer so that they could have a picture of the three of them. They were all wearing goofy smiles, and Buffy almost smiled again seeing the joy in their faces. Almost, except that Dawn was still fading in and out; she was the only one.
Buffy looked at the stairs and dashed to the foot of them. She stared up toward the second floor, her mind blanking out. She felt like she was on the edge of a great discovery…something to do with her sister and she was both afraid and desperate to know the answer.
Until Riley grabbed her arm, spinning her around and pissing her off.
"Buffy, I think you better come out with me and get some air. You're acting like you're high as a kite."
Buffy yanked her arm away, a little more roughly than she meant, but her meditation was wearing off. She could just feel it and she needed to know why Dawn was different than everyone else in the room.
"I can't, yet. I'm working on something."
"What? Buffy, what have you done?"
"Riley! I don't have time for you right now," she hissed and immediately regretted her choice of words. "I mean…I didn't mean that. It's just this is a Slayer thing…"
"No. I get it. I think you expressed yourself quite clear. Tell your mom I appreciated dinner. If you decide you suddenly have found time for me, you just whistle. I'm sure I'll come running." Riley turned and slammed out of the house. He wondered if maybe Sandy would be at Willy's tonight. He could use someone to talk to again.
Her mother returned to the hallway entry. In one hand she had a travel mug. In her other was her purse and she had on her coat.
"Are you going out?"
"Just for a bit, honey. I'm so much better, this is a good opportunity to check in at the gallery again and get some work caught up. Don't worry, I'll be careful. I have my pepper spray in my purse and I've been keeping one of your stakes in my inside coat pocket. I'll see you in a bit, sweetheart."
Buffy watched her mother go out the front door and then turned her attention to the second story. Climbing the stairs, she arrived outside Dawn's room. Down the hallway, she could hear the shower running.
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Outside the Summers' home, Spike stood behind the large oak in the front yard. He lit his third cigarette and waited. He didn't know why, it wasn't like Buffy was going to talk to him even if she did leave to patrol.
He'd already tried Xander, too. He'd gone to the apartment, but as soon as Xander had opened the door, he'd shoved a cross in Spike's face, scaring the bejeezus out of him. He hadn't even been able to utter anything, before the door was slammed back in his face. It was rude, really. He'd even used the cross that Spike had gotten him as a present after Dracula's assault. Spike had stomped away, hoping that Xander would hear his outrage; he wished that's what he'd felt. Instead, he just hurt inside in a way that a vampire wasn't supposed to hurt over a frickin' human. Any human!
So, here he was watching Riley storm out of the house and down the block. That, at least, made Spike's night. The stupid bastard must have shown up to try to patch things up with the Slayer after their blow out in the cemetery. Well, it didn't work, now did it wanker? Let's face it…you blew it. You should just put your drab olives back on and blow out of town. I'm just sorry I can't give you the exit you so richly deserve.
Spike's attention returned to the house as another figure exited. He felt a burst of hope, but it was only Joyce. He briefly considered stepping out of the shadow of the tree and saying hello. But, with Buffy in a snit, there was no telling what she'd do if he approached her mother these days. Instead he watched the bushes and the shadows around her car, making sure she got into her vehicle safely. He wished she wouldn't go out after dark, but like the rest of Sunnydale, she seemed to have a compulsion to test fate. He did notice her quick glance into the back seat and cargo area of the Jeep before she actually got in, though. There was no doubt about it, she was one smart cookie.
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Dawn entered her bedroom, redressed from her shower and with a towel wrapped around her long hair. It took forever to dry and she needed to brush it out almost right away or it would end up all tangled. When she opened her door, she found her sister in her room…without permission…looking at all of her stuff.
"Buffy? Who said you could enter my room?" Dawn was outraged in a way that only a fourteen year old could be. "You better not be touching my stuff!"
As Buffy turned toward her, Dawn noticed her glassy stare and the way she looked almost shocked. Her look quickly turned to suspicion and anger. Dawn was trying to figure out what the heck was going on when Buffy grabbed her…her fingers digging into the flesh of Dawn's arms hard!
"Ow! What are you, crazy?"
"Who are you? What are you doing to my mother?"
"God! Get off me! I'm going to tell…"
"If you have something to say, you say it to me! You stay the hell away from my mother! Now, what are you doing here?"
"What the h-…uh, heck are you doing here? This is my room! And I can talk to mom all I want…have you been doing drugs or something?"
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Buffy's trance broke just then. In front of her, Dawn appeared to be her normal self. The normal pain-in-the-ass teen she always was. Except, Buffy knew better, now. She'd seen the photos, she'd seen the room changing before her eyes; first a bedroom, then a storage room and then back. And finally there was Dawn's fading trick; she didn't know what the answer was, but there was something seriously mystical going on with this girl. In that moment, Buffy thought, she's not my sister. She's an imposter.
She pushed the thought away. If Dawn was an imposter, didn't that mean that her real sister was probably dead? She couldn't deal with that. She just couldn't. There had to be another answer, and she was going to find it.
Downstairs, the phone rang and Buffy pushed her way past her outraged…guest…to answer it. Picking it up, she was relieved to hear her Watcher's voice. If anyone could figure out what her vision meant, it was him. And he'd come up with something that didn't equal her sister being killed and replaced by a doppelganger.
"Thank god, Giles! Listen, I just did that vision thingie, and there was some weird…" Buffy felt eyes on her and turned to see Dawn glaring hatefully at her. "Uh…it's nothing. What did you need?"
"Are you sure, Buffy…" she could hear the puzzlement in his voice. It was important though that she not talk in front of whatever was looking at her. She didn't want it having any more information than it had already guessed.
"Yeah. I'll talk to you later."
"Uh, a-alright. Um, the reason I was calling is I believe we have the answer to our bauble. It's almost assuredly the Dagon Sphere. It's for protection…uh, to drive away…uh, 'that which cannot be named'. I don't know how it's gotten to Sunnydale, yet, but someone must have tried to send it to the Slayer for some reason."
"Okay, Giles. I'm going to go back to the warehouse. Maybe I can find something there."
"Now, Buffy, please be very careful. Usually things that go unnamed do so because of great reverence or fear. Sometimes both and that means it's probably very powerful."
"I got it. Thanks, Giles. Give my thanks to everyone else, too. I'll let you know what I find tomorrow. Good night."
Buffy turned to pretend-Dawn and watched her warily. She didn't look like something that would be feared or worshipped, but her vision and the arrival of a protective Orb was too coincidental to be a real coincidence.
"I have to go out for a bit and check into something."
"You shouldn't leave me here by myself, you know."
"I know. But I think you can handle yourself until I get back."
"What are you going to do," Dawn asked. Buffy tried to tell if she had some hidden undertone of menace in her voice or not. She just couldn't tell what or who she was dealing with.
"Nothing important. It's just stuff…"
"Slayer stuff," Dawn said contemptuously. "You really think it matters to me that you're a Slayer? I mean, nutso Faith is one too, so it can't be all that great, right? In fact, I wonder if you're just overrated."
"And just what is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," her 'sister' said. "Mom's going to be back soon, you know."
"I'll be back, first."
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End Ch 6