Amy finished counting pull-ups at one hundred fifty and dropped to the ground. When Faith had left, she'd been lucky to make fifty, even enhancing herself with temporary magics. Now...
Amy rolled up her shirt to examine the six-pack that had developed there. Five Days' Darkness had been late to inform her that she could grant her own wishes, but now that he'd done so she was growing in power fast.
Lorne and some of the squad had intimated that using her power this way was selfish, but Amy disagreed. No matter how many cures she granted, she could manage only a tiny fraction of the population. She healed the dying and those in great pain; beyond that there were other tasks that needed doing to keep the world alive. And also...she was still human, at least for now. Amy had real psychological needs, not just preferences and quirks. She wasn't able to devote her entire life to healing even if she had the power.
Amy walked out onto the balcony. So far she hadn't managed to lift off and fly like Faith, but now she thought she had an alternative. It was energy-intensive, but it would last as long as she wanted it. "I want to fly," she murmured to herself, and closed her eyes.
Pain blossomed between her shoulder blades, pain and a grotesque shifting sensation as entire bones and muscle groups writhed into existence from her tissues. Her backless shirt shifted only slightly, shoved aside but not torn, and her new limbs itched madly as huge black flight feathers sprouted out of the skin. Amy spread wings wider than she was tall, the wings of a vulture larger than any that had ever lived.
By physics alone, even these wings were too small for flight, but then, they'd all pretty much transcended physics months ago. Amy climbed onto the lowest rung of the railing, then leaned forward until she toppled headlong. She dove, wings outstretched to catch the wind that whistled past her. She caught the wind, and the wind caught her, and Amy Madison leveled off into a high, circling glide as she felt for updrafts to carry her higher.
This was the life.
Chapter 72-Ascent
Kate Lockley walked among spires of crystal hundreds of stories high on streets that held no more pedestrians than a small town. Though transports flitted through the air in places, they didn't seem to account for a larger population. Either everyone was indoors or this city was nigh-empty.
The people she did see weren't entirely human either, she observed-or maybe it was fairer to say they were different from any humans she knew on Earth. Their skins were coated in a crystal carapace that sparkled in the light; even their hair was made of it. Larger gems studded the center lines of their bodies-at their chakra points, Kate realized after a moment-and sharp shards projected from their limbs. The crystal tended toward the blue, but variations here seemed random rather than some additional race division. Many of them had vague, confused expressions and were being led about by robotic creatures of all shapes and sizes; most also wore wireframe headgear that projected holographic displays for them.
Buffybot walked more confidently at Kate's side than Kate herself was capable of. The city was a welcoming, wide-open place, but its crystalline construction was alien to Kate; Buffybot seemed to feel right at home.
It took some moments for either of them to realize that the crowds-such as they were-were parting. A slender feminine figure was making her way down the street toward them from the central spire. Her body seemed entirely crystalline and translucent, though with a dark red-brown hue unlike anything Kate had seen here thus far. She wore nothing, but her body lacked obvious openings except for facial features. The other inhabitants bowed slightly as she passed.
"Welcome to my city," the figure said. "I am Omnideific Martyr-Om, for short. Greetings to you, Lunar Exalt; I know what you are but not your name. And you, Adaptive Heart and Hand of the Crafter Sublime...welcome home."
Buffybot tilted her head, looked into Om's eyes, and uttered a heartfelt, "What."
Riley glanced nervously at the Secret Service agents clustered around the doors. They couldn't take him down-well, at least it'd be a hell of a fight. The President herself would definitely take a hand, though, and then his odds dropped to near zero. Knowing her capabilities would help-so, of course, she kept them secret. He refilled her glass with wine.
"Thoughtful boy," Drusilla said at his other hand. She was a wild card of rapidly increasing wildness. According to Lorne, Darla's conscience had awakened slowly after she was made human; the same seemed to be happening to her grandchilde, but Darla had been essentially sane. Dru's intent might be pure as the driven snow and aim at his death on the orders of a mad whim or a glimpse of destiny.
"So," Lilah asked, "what is this about? You can't be leaving Sam for me, surely. And with ninety-nine women panting for you, even your Dragon-Blooded dick isn't likely to be leading you around. That means you want something else from me."
"He's thinking inside the box," Drusilla laughed. "And the inside wants out."
Lilah shook her head. "You're not that good in bed, Mister Finn. Though Dru speaks highly of you." She took a sip of wine. "There's nothing I want badly enough to let any more Exaltations loose. Too many are free as it is. Now if any of you had chosen to work for me, matters might be different."
"You have us now," Riley said, though he already knew her answer to that.
"I bought you," Lilah said, "and not all of you at that. Only Dru really wants to work for me, and she's bonkers."
"Does that maybe tell you anything?" Riley asked.
"Now is that any way to speak to your date?" Lilah responded lightly. "Exalted want to rule. It's in our nature. Of course you don't want me in charge over you. I'm not wasting any further effort on making more of us."
"Have you maybe considered that the Exalted were made to fight a war?" Riley countered. "If we've been released for a reason, maybe you need all of us free."
Lilah shrugged. "Then they'll be released for the same reason whether I want it done or not," she countered, "if that's their destiny."
"But you're going to stand against it."
Lilah's tone grew frosty. "I don't actually know what their destiny, or ours, is."
"Those such as we make our own fates," Drusilla teased. "The future isn't written." And, for some reason, she winked at Riley.
"So basically," Riley muttered, "I've been wasting my time."
"I don't know that I'd say that," Lilah demurred. "From what I hear, you and Drusilla had a good time together...and if you still want, I haven't said I'm not amenable, just that I can't imagine what you could possibly give me that'd justify releasing the remaining Exaltations. A roll in the hay isn't nearly enough."
Riley nodded and stood up. "Thing is, Lilah, you're right. Sam and the team have me buried in all the sex I could ever want. So...I'll happily just...let you finish your dinner." Hopefully she wouldn't notice how tight his pants were.
"Grandmum," Drusilla said abruptly, "let us not be rude to the poor boy. He did come all this way." She tugged on his right hand, then stood when he didn't allow himself to be pulled down and ruffled his hair.
Lilah made a grumbling noise under her breath. "Well, as the vote is two to one, I don't suppose I see any harm." She pulled Riley down with no trouble at all.
Justine sat around the glow of the cooking unit, Sarah Holtz at her side, and shot a glare at Daniel across the device. Holtz acted as if he'd missed it, but she didn't believe. Daniel Holtz missed nothing.
"How many years'd we tell the boy he was a shapeshifter because he was half-demon?" Justine muttered.
"They made a demon of my daughter," Daniel retorted, "and her life was restored by black arts."
"And what do you say about me, old man?" Daniel looked younger than when she'd first met him, but he was two decades older even discounting the time he'd spent in suspended animation. "You're the one who let a demon put you on ice for more than two centuries. Maybe you're possessed."
"This is not a productive line of thought," said the fourth of them. Itinerant Analog Calculatrix reached over the cooker and handed Sarah a piece of rubbery nutrient gel. "I see no reason to presume that any of you, absent son included, are empowered by demons. All of our powers alike derive from the Great Maker; only the form is different."
"Every good gift and every perfect gift comes down from above," Sarah quoted from the book of James, "from the Father of Lights, with whom there is no change or shifting shadow." Calculatrix nodded, though her eyes looked uncertain.
Daniel grunted. "So your ability to become a raven is a 'perfect' gift. And Justine's transformation into a badger." Justine took the opportunity to nod once, emphatically. There were few animals to hunt here, but her predatory form felt...incredible. Powerful. "And our mercurial witch here-"
"The term is t..." Calculatrix hesitated for no reason Justine could make out. "Protocol weaver. I don't...I can weave man-machine protocols," she said, pointing to the rotating ring around her "soulgem". For a moment there she'd seemed confused, but that had passed. "Those also come from the Maker."
"Your spells come from the Maker," Holtz said, voice dripping with derision. "Well, at this point I won't refuse help. Where are we going?"
"Down a little," Calculatrix said. She indicated the exit. "We're in a shielded relay station near the bottom of the Pole of Lightning. I'm going to trust that you, at least, can survive a brief trip down the shaft unaided. Each of us will protect one of the others, if they need us. Do you need us?" Sarah nodded at once. Justine felt more reluctance, but in a moment she agreed as well. No point dying this close to safety. "At the bottom is the city of Sporish. The gates will provide adequate shelter while you get authorization to enter. Are we ready?"
"Let's go," Justine said, not waiting for Daniel. She took the robot-woman's hand and let herself be led to the door.
Calculatrix's hand was as warm as if she were the human she claimed to be. She lookedhuman...almost. But her skin was a shining, fluid metallic coating, almost a liquid yet not quite. Here and there, metal engines with moving parts protruded from her limbs and torso. She was tall, and though she was fairly slender her stern face would have made her imposing even if she looked entirely biological.
If the station where they had camped was cavernous, the shaft it opened onto was so vast it could hardly be seen as a place. Rotating cylinders the size of buildings lined the huge pipe, itself turning slowly, and lightning shot between them individually and toward the relatively slender cable in the center-itself as big around as a whale. And the sight repeated upwards as far as the eye could see. Below, it extended several stories before terminating in a many-spired floor...or roof.
Calculatrix led them on a path between the cylinder layers to a ladder, and beside it a cluster of thin cables. "It'll take forever to climb all the way down," she said, "because of the arcs interrupting us and because the ladders are never continuous for more tham a few levels. Daniel, watch what I do." She put one arm around Justine, grabbed hold of the cables, and leapt into the void.
Justine was pleased not to have made so much as a squeak. From above there came an "Eep!" as Daniel seized Sarah and leapt. Then the cables twitched back into place as Calculatrix dodged a massive bolt of energy. She looked up just as Daniel shot past, having been too high to need to dodge.
Another searing bolt forced Daniel into cover. Calculatrix kept going as the lightning narrowly missed her feet. Arcs flared all around them, and they swung and twisted on the cable as they dodged past energies that could have incinerated them in an instant.
Impact. Justine instinctively tried to roll with it, but Calculatrix was in the way. Their knees bore up under the force of it just fine, though. Beside them, Daniel and Sarah touched down a little more lightly. "I see the hatch," Sarah said. "Over here?"
Calculatrix nodded indulgently. "That's it, yes. Allow me, however. Opening hatches from the Pole of Lightning into a city takes authorization, for obvious reasons."
Justine glanced up into the sky. Pure power crackled down into the spires from the infinite heights of the Pole, bolt after searing bolt. None came anywhere near the floor, but she'd seen the things that fed on the power conduits here. No, she wouldn't want them loose on a city. Not even one.
"It is evident that I am what is conventionally considered 'dead'. And yet my consciousness continues to exist."
A year ago Harmony would've had no trouble at all ignoring the speech. If she weren't trying to surreptitiously free herself, it would have put her to sleep. Only...the ghost was pondering the mysteries of its existence, and it was actually kind of cool and romantic. The monologue gave her the chance to escape, but it was so...distracting.
"Death, therefore, is not properly 'death' as many humans and demons conceive it. I am what is considered a ghost...and records indicate that ghosts can continue to interact with the world. Therefore I can interact with the world. In what sense, then, am I dead? Other than, of course, the purely biological."
Santangelo rolled her eyes and continued trying to burn through the plasticized ropes that bound her. Gwen looked as if she had already freed herself and was only pretending to still be tied, while Shoat merely sat there in grim irritation.
"In principle, of course, I am subject to the same controls that typically afflict ghosts-yet in life I know that my self-awareness surpassed that of any common demon. In appearance I am unchanged, yet surely I am a unitary being here, in that-"
Harmony sighed. Clearly the ghost-demon-cyborg who called himself Adam was going to rant all night rather than actually attack them, and she was getting impatient. Blind Edge, unfortunately, had vanished after a stretch of wandering through the sterile white hospital corridors, but that was all right. She had another spell she wanted to try out, and the ghost of a unique bio-mechanical kinematically-redundant demonoid would be a useful thing to have around.
She touched her fingers together, then pulled them slowly apart, producing a shining silver thread. The thread rotated and shifted, gaining volume and mass, becoming a thick iron mace. Harmony waited till Adam turned to stalk away again before bursting the cord he'd tied her hands with.
He heard her coming. He was definitely still superhumanly aware. She could say that much for him.
"You are not a robot," Omnideific Martyr said patiently. "You are not an Alchemical Exalt, nor any conventional form of machine spirit. The records of you within Autochthon's thoughts suggest that you are a behemoth-a unique creation of the Great Maker. You were birthed in Creation as a simple lump of semi-sentient crystal before he fell into slumber here and were left to gestate like an egg."
"But Warren made me," Buffybot protested. "I'm only about two years old."
"This biomechanical shell you wear may be this Warren's creation," Om said, "but not the thought core which rests within it. I can feel your emanations from here. This body is...like a suit of clothing and a vehicle for your true form. An encounter suit."
"All right," Kate said impatiently. The chair was comfortable and the view of crystal towers spectacular, but they needed to get back. "What did Autochthon make her for?"
"As best we can discern," Om said uneasily, "she is somehow key to easing his illness. I don't believe she can cure him, of course-I'm not certain anything short of fetich death could accomplish that-but she may be the means to end this low point of his cycle. And before you ask, no, I don't know how."
"Why are there cybernetic zombies stealing bodies from the morgues?" Buffybot asked. "We need to stop them."
Om groaned deeply. "Ralacken must be building an undead army from them. Ralacken, the Gremlin City, aims at the death of Autochthon and his transformation into a Neverborn. He would not balk at killing Gaia first, though. He may well seek to gather souls as well, to make Apostate Exalted of your people. We have taken heroic souls from among you in the past as well."
"At least there's only one of him," Kate suggested, but Om shook her translucent head.
"We cannot be certain of that," Om said. "The Machine God's body is vast, and Ralacken builds on the older legend of Erlik, who may have really existed. Or not, of course. There may be others, too, more secretive than Ralacken."
"We'd love to help you," Kate said, "but we need to get our own house in order. If you'll let us go, we can shut down the body-snatching ring. That'd be something."
Om turned to glance out over her towers. "I cannot go with you. This place is my true body. But I will give you what assistance I can. The oldest gateway to your world is here; that is why you were brought to me. We have stores of weapons and other technology that may help you as well." She put one sharp-edged hand on Kate's shoulder. "Do not presume to have infinite time. This Age, I think, draws to an end. You must act, and soon."
"I'll do what I have to do," Kate said firmly. Om seemed to have some knowledge of Earth; she had to understand Kate's reluctance to accumulate personal power.
"Do so. Now...come with me."
Amy flung needles of solid white light at Robin, probing at his defenses, but they shattered on his riot shield. He was no match for her, but he wouldbe a tough nut to crack. A quick slash cut into his side, but the Slayer's son had taken worse and recovered without a scar.
Amy arced a solid wave of light at him-or rather, at where he had been. Robin had learned to move with greater-than-human speed; she knew that, but so far she hadn't managed to compensate, not with him. A second barrage missed again, and she was forced to parry his daggers with a sheet of hastily-conjured metal. Her third attack caught him off guard as a boulder materialized and slammed into him-yet somehow, he held his ground against the massive rock.
She took a moment to examine him, but he was suddenly on her before she could move, seizing her by the throat and bearing her down. Robin was a fairly big man, but now he felt as heavy as a sumo wrestler. Amy struggled in his grip and finally had to conjure up grease on her body to slide away from him. At least it evaporated the moment she was free. "What the heck is that?"
"I wouldn't know," Robin said. "Makes me denser somehow. Heavier and stronger. You should be able to learn it, but it's not a path I'm familiar with from any of you."
"Doesn't slow you down any," Amy observed as he feinted right, then slashed at her.
"Sure doesn't." A foot swung under her as she moved, forcing her to jump over it; a bubble of force stopped the fist that might otherwise have smashed into her jaw.
"I can probably learn it too," Amy suggested. White fire seared his left hand despite his attempt to dodge. "It's got to be an Infernal thing."
"You know," a deep, barely familiar voice said, "before I left I'd have been real concerned hearing that from you. Especially considering you've made some kind of deal with Lilah Morgan and moved into the old Wolfram &Hart building."
Angel was abruptly shoved through the doorway by a bleach-blond vampire in a trenchcoat, and that vampire was in turn shoved aside by Faith. "Oi!"
"Ames!" Faith said, and rushed over to slap Amy on the back, a maneuver complicated by the huge wings. "I didn't mean to be gone so long! I got turned into a centaur, and anyway I didn't know time was passing faster here." She ran her fingers through Amy's flight feathers, an unpleasant tickly sensation that made Amy ruffle them. "Maybe I should've just come on. I didn't learn much an' I didn't bring B back."
"You brought me," said an unfamiliar girl with golden-yellow skin and a gemstone on her forehead. "I'm not exactly chopped liver, am I?"
"Heh, nope! Ames, Robin, this is TARA. She's...um, she's on our side. You've sort of met, Amy." Faith took Amy by the arm and pulled her closer.
"Um," Amy said, "I don't think I remember you. How've you been?"
"Reincarnated cyborg," TARA said. "You?"
"Rat. You've got me beat," Amy admitted.
TARA studied her. "I don't think I remember you either. No offense, it's been a few thousand years. I was Willow's girlfriend in the incarnation you'd've seen."
Amy shrugged. "'S'okay, I don't remember you either. This is Robin Wood. He's new to the group."
TARA nodded. "Don't think we ever met, but Faith mentioned you, Robin. She said you were half-caste. Your mom was a Slayer?"
Robin gave a curt nod. For some reason he'd gotten really tense since the group arrived. And where'd the blond guy go? He must have slipped out. "She was," he said. "I didn't think I'd inherited a thing from her till the last few months, other than my sparkling personality."
"I take it she's been dead a while?" TARA said. "I'm not surprised, but I am sorry."
"Don't be," Robin said. "You just brought me her killer." Something intangible passed between him and TARA, and TARA's expression darkened.
"He didn't tell me that," TARA said. "Do you need my help dealing with him?"
Faith scowled. "Hey, Spike's reformed. Kind of. I mean, he's got a chip in his head but he's been nothin' but good Creation-side."
"Reformed?" Robin said skeptically. "And you trust him...why, because he's been brainwashed or something?"
That same barely-visible flicker passed between Robin and Faith. Magic? "When you put it that way, it does sound kinda dodgy," Faith admitted.
"Faith," Amy started. "Hey, um...maybe you better tell me what you know about Spike."
"AKA William the Bloody," Robin cut in. "Soulless killer, like all of 'em...present company excluded," he added coldly, with a wary glance at Angel. "I don't care if he's been making paper dolls and giving away candy. He still killed my mother."
If not for that flicker...if not for Amy's own horrible relationship with her own mother...Amy gritted her teeth and shrugged it off. "Robin," she said through clenched teeth, "I don't know if you're meaning to do that, but stop it."
"No," Angel said. "He's right. I know what a bastard Spike is. I made him what he is today. I can't ask you to forgive me, Robin...but I'll help you kill him."
Harmony was feeling woozy and weak and she really wasn't certain why. Her aura was shining gold and purple and made big fancy unicorn pictures whenever she did anything, and to her that made it sound like she was at the top of her game. Obviously not, though.
"Harmony," Shoat said, "you're using too much magic."
"But I thought the Exalted had plenty of magic for everything!" She hadn't really been keeping track of her reserves because so far she hadn't needed to.
"Harmony," Shoat said patiently, "necromancy burns a lot more energy than regular Exalted powers. And you're not regenerating it down here like I am. I'm not sure about Santangelo."
"I'm good," Maria reported. "It feels perfectly natural to me."
"Look, Harm, if you've got anything left you'd better conserve it." Shoat sounded put out. "That stone will give you a little, and Five Days' Darkness says we may get some from the superhero fanboys. But we won't find out till we break camp tomorrow."
"Isn't there some way I can get more?" Harmony wasn't sure she had much of anything left, and they still had a long way to go. "I could give you guys power if I had any."
"Not any kind of an expert here," Shoat said crankily. "I know what Five taught me 'cause I'm an Abyssal. You're not. You don't belong down here."
"We'll watch out for you," Gwen said, "but Harm, you really should've planned this out better. If we say we need to turn around, you'd better turn around. Got it?"
Harmony sighed and stared up at the cavern roof. At least it was rock right now. This was suddenly turning into a disaster. "Okay," she grumbled. "Do what you gotta do."
Stephen clambered atop the barren, rocky island. So far no one knew he was gone. He'd picked up a few comfortable fish shapes. Less useful than demon forms, but much less disturbing to wear.
Angelus had, if he'd heard right, gone to somewhere in Britain, but Stephen was certain he'd return to LA eventually. And if not, he'd find a way to track the demon down.
Stephen articulated the word carefully. "Qwrdmlzf," he said, and the world ripped open. Perfect.
He leapt through the portal.