Tara stood quietly on the deck of Luthe. Fred stood before her; Anja, the Sage, Kolohi, and Renjin surrounding them. Stephen had apparently gone without a word; that was a little worrying, but he was free to go as he chose. Leviathan was also not in attendance, preferring to keep his continued presence hidden from the Luthans.
Fred touched her face, her neck, and scribed a few final designs there. "I name you Glamorous Alabaster Sorceress." The native Lunars muttered a little at the mention of glamor; they had not forgotten its older meanings, since the Fair Folk also used the term. No one interrupted, though.
A silver crescent flared to life on Tara's brow. "This was not an easy testing," Fred said. "And not only because I'm new. Tara, you're not a warrior by nature, though I've seen you fight. You're a great witch by the standards of our time, but we've lost a lot. The truth is, your greatest strength is in your heart, and the way you touch the hearts of others. You may not see it, but I think that one day you'll be a leader people will follow without having to be told. You inspire, you enlighten, and you capture hearts. Welcome to the Silver Pact, Sorceress."
Fred hugged her awkwardly, and the other Lunars, one by one, came forward and greeted her in their own ways. Anja and Renjin also offered hugs; Kolohi gave her an odd fist-to-chest salute; and the Sage, strangest of all, kissed her on the forehead. Then the Sage and Anja made their departure for Thorns via some sort of magics Tara wasn't familiar with, striding onto a sort of moonlight bridge that vanished into the sky.
"I'm sorry about that f-fiasco with the fleet," Tara said quietly.
"I took you there to test you," Fred said. "You didn't know enough about command, but the navy did follow you. That's not entirely a failure, especially since you handed command over when you realized it was going wrong."
"You'll improve," Renjin said. "At least, you'll improve if you don't quit. Even the Exalted don't get better without effort." He clapped her on the back and strolled off.
"Changing Moon," Kolohi said, "may we fight together again some time. You're good ranged support. Where'd you learn?"
"With B-Buffy," Tara admitted. "Crossbow as much as magic, at least at first."
"I'm going to find you a good Haslanti crossbow," Kolohi told her. "I want to see you shoot. We'll talk again soon." And she left Tara and Fred alone.
"Willow was upset that she couldn't come," Tara said sadly. "I should get back to her. She wasn't happy I didn't like Faith's face on her, either. Faith's p-pretty, but she always scared me. And then...she, um, she...Willow still feels d-dead to herself. It didn't work very well even when she tried another face."
"I'm sorry," Fred said. "Can I do anything to help? Talk to her, maybe?"
Tara pulled her close into a hug. It was supposed to be a friendly hug, but now she was all up in Fred's body heat, in her scent. She could feel herself warming up, and pulled away. "I just...I need someone to be close to. Buffy's not here, and Willow's the problem, and-" She broke off. "We agreed."
Fred nodded hastily and with great vigor. "Yup. We agreed. We aren't going to...to do any more kissing or...anything like that." She leaned in close again. "Right?"
"Right," Tara said determinedly. "Because we're taken."
"I'm not exactly taken," Fred disagreed. "I'm not really in...any sort of real relationship. But you are."
Was she? Really? Anymore? Tara slumped forward again. "I don't know. Willow's so...obsessed with the Exaltations now...and I mean, she has reason but..."
"She's learning a little," Fred said. "About possible structures and...things. Like why Exaltations amplify the things about us they do. Our abilities and, um...our feelings..."
"Our feelings," Tara agreed absently. She knew it was time to pull away, but Fred seemed to havs a gravity of her own tonight.
"...and I'm saying that if we were to...I mean...you could make a case that it's not entirely our fault." She kissed Tara on the forehead, a sudden, startling kiss that made Tara look up. The next kiss landed on her lips, and this one didn't break. It was too hot here, too tight. Suddenly Tara had her hands on Fred's shoulders and was forcing her down. "Inside," Fred squeaked. They couldn't go inside. If they went inside they'd find a room, and there would be more kissing, and more than the kissing, and then there would be a world of bad. Tara's mouth wasn't paying attention, they needed to stop kissing now.
She tried to push herself away from Fred and realized that they were sliding off the deck now, slipping under the railing at a spot where the city just sloped down into the sea. Her clothes were going to get soaked, except suddenly they melted away, all of them, which was an even worse mistake because now she was naked with Fred all entangled in her arms and legs and they were still kissing, in the water now, underwater, and...and...
No one had to know.
Chapter 74-Prayers to Broken Stone
The Exaltation is a tool.
Hypothesis: the Exaltation is a simple tool, like a vessel full of power.
Alternative hypothesis: the Exaltation is a complex tool, like a computer.
There had to be a way to distinguish between them. The ancient Exalted had made very little progress, but not none at all.
Willow sat cross-legged on her bed, disguises gone. If the Exaltation was simply a vessel full of power, then the direction for that power had to come purely from her. But in that case, why did the texts divide every manifestation into formalized "charms"? Why couldn't she just spray it about to do whatever she thought of-or at least, destructively?
The power suffused every bit of her. It determined her appearance, even apart from any specific charm. Far more Exalts were beautiful than ugly, and those that were ugly were strikingly so: case in point. Just being an Abyssal made you look corpselike-though some lucky ones, like Shadow, looked like corpses perfectly preserved. No Solars looked that way.
That called to mind the image of a switch. Maybe it was more complex than that; then again, maybe not. Willow fumbled around at the controls she had already learned. Faith was gone, but-
flick
Golden light beamed down on her, beamed from her. The disc on her forehead shone like the sun. Her brittle greying hair grew out lustrous red, cascading over her shoulders. Her leathery skin became soft and milky-white. Her withered face filled out, cheeks plump, nose restored, lips rosy. She could feel the blood pumping through her, her dessicated body growing...um, fluid.
A wave of lust washed over and through her. ...But that was okay, that was called libido, it was the life urge. See, Mom, I did listen!
She hopped up off the bed and opened all the doors. Tara wasn't here, not even in her private rooms. "Towers of Azure, can you locate Tara Maclay?"
"Tara Maclay is not on board this station." Okay...maybe the Lunar ceremony thing was still going on. Or maybe she'd gone out to hunt. Thinking of Tara hunting was strange, but she wasa country girl.
"Um...where was she last?" Maybe she wasn't far.
"Tara Maclay departed this station off the starboard plaza deck fifteen minutes ago." Hmm.
Willow took a lift up to the plaza. Maybe Tara was back by now.
Only the wake of Luthe marred the smooth open surface of the water as far as she could see. They'd entered a huge gap in the archipelago that their maps didn't seem to account for, probably a Wyld manifestation.
Fred's head popped up over the side. She'd sprouted gills in her cheeks and neck. Fred had been really helpful to both of them, even though Willow had kind of hidden herself away most of the time lately. Tara appeared a moment later, and the two of them climbed onto the deck.
They were naked.
Well, they'd all been naked a lot lately. Creation didn't go in for swimsuits much, especially where Exalted were concerned. And anyway, Tara had been experimenting with her ability to shapeshift her clothes.
Fred looked around furtively before kissing Tara on the mouth.
Rage boiled up inside Willow, breaking through the mute button her emotions had been on lately. She knew it wasn't fair-she'd neglected them both lately, neglected all her friends while she searched for a cure. Not to mention, she'd done the same thing with Xander just a couple. of years ago. She had no right-
As if against her will, her hands shot up, and she heard a cry of incoherent rage. Knives shaped like lightning flew from her hands. "Angry now!"
This wasn't her. This wasn't her! But Willow couldn't stop.
Fred dropped flat as Willow-a Willow who looked like a living girl!-flung golden knives at her. It had been so long since she'd seen Willow like this she almost believed it was an impostor. Only, well...Willow had motive right now.
Fred shapeshifted into a cockroach. Much harder to hit that way. What had happened exactly? The Willow who was attacking looked as if she'd become a Solar. Which Lytek had said was possible, though he had no clear idea how. And Willow had been studying Exaltations, so maybe...
Just as she finally worked it out, Tara and Fred had given in and made weird freaky underwater love. And she'd caught them. Great timing for all concerned.
A lightning dagger passed by just above Fred. She was going to have to fight back, try to apologize, or let Willow kill her.
"Willow, stop!" That was Tara, clinging to Willow's arm. "It was a mistake, it's as much my fault as hers, we just...Willow, I love you.".
"But you haven't wanted to be around scary dried-up Willow," the new Solar snarked bitterly. "So you found yourself a shiny new girlfriend who was still pretty enough to, to screw. You couldn't have waited twenty more minutes, because that's how close it was, the AI told me."
"You haven't wanted to be around us!" Tara snapped. This side of her wasn't one you got to see very often. "And I do mean 'us', she's your Lunar mate and I'd have let you g-go if you wanted her instead, I don't know what I'd have d-done but I would have! But you went and hid in your room even though I told you it was all right!"
Willow smashed both hands into Tara's body and sent her sprawling with a dagger in her chest.
Fred flung the web she'd been constructing over Willow, buzzing around her hands to wrap them and pull them tight, and dropped onto the deck in human form next to Tara. Aaand she still hadn't picked up the stupid clothes trick. Still naked. Drat!
Tara sat up and pulled the dagger free with a wince, pinching the wound shut. "I c-can't believe she did that. She attacked me. Willow..."
"I-I didn't mean it!" Willow stammered. "I'm so sorry, it's Fred I'm mad at, not you, and...and..."
Fred began to apologize. "You're right, it's my fault I should've handed her over to a different Lunar they'd have done it, any of them really, and I-"
"Stop," Tara said, and put a hand on Fred's mouth. "Willow. I know that the Exalted have...mental p-problems, maybe all of us. So I'm giving you one chance because it m-may not be your fault. I want your apology, and I want your plan to have this not happen again even if you're crazy. If you haven't recovered, fine, I can wait, but you stabbed me. So until I have b-both of those things, we're not g-girlfriends, we're not even friends, Willow."
For a moment, Fred thought Willow was going to put a dagger through both their hearts. Then she crumpled to her knees and began to sob. "Tara...oh god I'm so sorry. I can't believe I...please please don't leave me I couldn't stop myself."
Tara tangled one hand in Willow's shiny red hair. "I believe you," she said sternly. "I won't hurt you. But I have to have your plan not to do that again, Willow. Was it the...the change?"
"I don't think so," Willow said, "I've been obsessed with you two and fixing my Exaltation and...um, kinda with Buffy and the Scoobies after that but I was too busy working...for weeks now. It just hasn't ever gone away and I saw the two of you and it all...turned wrong, I guess." She stopped to twirl her hair around in thought. "I...Raiton said this sort of thing could happen if I tried to live among the living. It's my fault."
"What did she say exactly?" Fred asked. "Maybe we can...work around it somehow."
"Live in the...the image of death, she said. Which...I can do the goth thing, I guess, but it has to be something I really associate with dying, not just black clothes. Don't use my name. Kill things-demons and bad people and thinking monsters are okay, but they do have to be, well...people. Not just animals or ooky monster...animals." Willow began to smack her forehead. "Can't think of anything 't even know if it still applies now."
Fred knelt down in front of Willow. "Tara, is it okay if I make a suggestion?" Tara nodded emphatically, so she went on. "Anya and Xander are in some sort of...open relationship thing, and didn't Anya used to...y'know...curse unfaithful men? I'm not saying exactly the same, but...Willow...I love you. I'm your Lunar mate. And it's not the same as between you and Tara, how could it be, but...what if we were to...to agree to...to...share?" The last word came out in a tiny squeak. Tara went bright red. "If Anya can manage it, surely you can too."
"I-I-I c-can d-do that," Tara said faintly. "If it means no more fighting. Willow?"
Willow had gone extremely pale. "I guess if we're all together and I'm not jealous then being...fixated...won't be a problem the same way. Right?"
Tara nodded. "Okay then. If we can do that then it's settled and we're okay. And if...if there's obviously something that went wrong and one of us is not...in our right m-mind then we can re-plan things, okay? But if it's not like that, if there's any hitting or stabbing and it's on purpose I'm breaking up with whoever did it. Even b-both of you. Okay?"
"That's a lot of okaying," Fred said, trying to lighten the mood just a little. "But that plan works for me. Oh, and, um...if I lock myself in my room don't come in unless there's a Neverborn on the loose, all right?"
"I'm with the okayage," Willow said quietly, "what with it all being my fault and I'm getting off light."
She looked as if she might say something else, but then a hatch opened and Xander popped out in his boxer briefs with a naked Cynis Megara riding on his back. "Aw hell," he muttered. "Sorry to interrupt-"
"Who's interrupting?" Megara said lazily. "Let's join 'em."
"-But the Dragon-Blooded especially and everyone in general are breaking out with the orgies and we might be in yet another Wyld pocket?"
Fred knew her face had gone crimson; Tara's certainly had. Fred pulled Willow to her feet. "Xander," she said, "good news!"
"With the Wyld pocket? Because while this is fun it's...Willow?" Xander raced over, Megara clinging for all she was worth, and lifted Willow into the air. "Willow...wow. And wow, and multiple wowage indefinitely. Is...is it real? Like, for keeps?"
"I don't know," Willow murmured. "Something doesn't feel right about it. But at least I look alive, right?"
Xander nodded and put her down. "The Ampata look is definitely wrong for you. So is there a reason you're the one who's not naked and...your wrists are tied and don't answer that, I don't need to know." He winked and made a click with his mouth. "All good with the Dread Pirate Roberts. Play nice." He turned and carried Megara back inside.
"Should we...um, take further advantage of the Wyld pocket?" Fred asked. "And maybe this time of live Willow?"
"I'm g-game," Tara stammered, still beet-red. "Willow?"
Willow burst out with a grin from ear to ear. "Yes, yes please can we please?"
The next morning Fred and Tara woke up curled around a mummy. Small favors, though. Small favors.
That had not gone well. They were supposed to fight, then separate and be picked off one by one. Still, it never did to underestimate the bond between Solar and Lunar.
Fred had been her first target, but Willow was perhaps more interesting. And Tara reminded her of herself nearly as much as the Dreamer did. Shy little girls all, hiding behind masks, pretending they feared power. She had been like that.
Well, she would have her way. Raksi was the fly on the wall. She would see what she needed to see and try again.
It was only a matter of time.
"You're impatient," Ahn-Aru said. "Sidereal magic is rarely flashy. We are meant to be subtle."
"I'm tired of subtle," Anya complained. "I can do it when I have to, but where's the fun?"
Sad Ivory smiled. "I understand. Well, let us be blatant, then. Follow my gestures." Her left arm thrust abruptly at the dummy, encircled by yellow and crimson ribbons of light.
Inexpertly, Anya tried to duplicate the strike. No light show. "You are missing the point," Ahn-Aru said, not unkindly. This time she lashed out just as violently with her right leg. The same display spiraled around it. "This is a Sidereal style, Anya. Your thoughts and emotions are far more important than the precision of your gestures. I know this move will be difficult for you to learn."
Anya shook her head and muttered under her breath, then tried with her right arm. Zilch.
Sad Ivory raised an eyebrow and head-butted the dummy. The same effect swirled around her head. Even her head!
"I'm not getting what you're doing," Anya grumbled. "You're not using the same strike twice."
Ahn-Aru shook her head. "But I am." She turned and picked up a thingie. A whatchamacallit. It might have been a sword. It might have been a cat-o'-nine-tails. She flicked it vigorously at the dummy. Scarlet and yellow ribbons mingled with the blades. "You fail because you don't understand the principle involved. Yellow Dragon Flight is the essence of the male principle, or yang. It is aggression. It is fire. Until you can express that principle in your thrust, you will continue to fumble."
Anya groaned. "How am I supposed to do that?"
Ahn-Aru pressed her lips together as if struggling not to laugh. "I was under the impression that you knew the male principle of essence very well, Anya Jenkins-Harris."
Anya blinked. "Oh. Oh! Wait. You made a martial art out of that?"
"More than one," Sad Ivory acknowledged. "But this one is the most refined. Now, Anya, pay closer attention. We will do this all week if we must. Only then can you attempt to make use of the feminine principle in the Black Dragon Coils block."
"That's ridiculous!" Anya snapped. "You know as well as I do that feminine power is more basic than male."
"And therefore harder to master," Ahn-Aru said with a glint in her eyes. "Come now. Try. You can do this."
Anya grunted and pulled her right arm back. Xander. Atop her. Ready. She was waiting. He wasn't going to. Wham-bam. Her arm shot out.
Nothing. Ahn-Aru shook her head and began to say, "Better, but-"
Anya thrust again. And again. And again. Why stop? Xander wouldn't. Not until they got what they wanted. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
A blaze of red and saffron encircled her arm. The dummy's head went flying in a burst of orange light.
Sad Ivory raised an eyebrow. "All right, then. You're a quick study."
"Nope," Anya chuckled. "Just...like you said...familiar."