"Buffy Summers," Ligier thundered. "What am I to do with you?"

She didn't want to cower. She wanted to deliver a snappy one-liner and cut off his head. Not being the whole Buffy kind of impeded that, leaving her to huddle under the demon lord's gaze.

"According to Oramus, he bid you to act in direct support of the Reclamation against a danger to it, and since Sacheverell's waking, if it were accomplished, would have been a disaster to all of us, Malfeas accepts his word. Nonetheless, the fetich death of a Yozi at the hands of an Exalt cannot go ignored. And do not protest that you were acting under compulsion when one of your gales blows into the Demon City unguarded!" Ligier roared. "I will not tolerate such folly!"

The Slayer would have snapped back at him. Buffy Summers, ordinary girl, lacked the power to stand beneath the supernatural weight of his authority. She didn't try to bargain or beg, but neither could she defend herself. So much for not wanting to be the Chosen One, she managed within the quiet of her mind.

"Here is my judgement: by not bringing this to my attention before you acted, you have violated the will of the Unquestionable-namely, myself. Because you acted in defense of the Reclamation and the freedom of the Descending Hierarchy, you will not be sanctioned as Kimbery's other Exalted have been. Your own Exalted nature will carry out your punishment, as usual." Ligier paused. "Carry this message back to your overself, little doppelganger, and do not return unwarded."

Buffy said nothing. But deep inside she was thinking as she turned away: So much for prophecy.

Chapter 75-Hell Rising From a Thousand Thrones

The chariot came racing across the dessicated cracked ground, leaving tracks of frost in the horses' wake. Buffy watched from the palace balcony, stomach fluttering. "I really thought she'd laugh and say no and offer me some minor prince or something."

"The hazards of bargaining," Giles mused. "Sometimes one gets precisely what one requested. Who knows? Perhaps you'll find her to be a proper match."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Giles, she's got all the morals of a vampire."

"Precisely."

"That was a low blow." Buffy shook her head at him, then vaulted over the retaining wall with a wink and a smirk to drop fifty feet to the pavement below. One of these days she was going to have to learn how to really fly.

Her timing was off. Mnemon took another five minutes or so to pull up. Still, she'd seen Buffy's leap. "Vulgar display," she said, but she said it with a smile as her chariot dissipated into mist in the dry air.

"Aw, c'mon," Buffy said. "Don't be a wet blanket at your own wedding party. That is what you're here for, right?"

Mnemon raised both eyebrows. "I'm here to negotiate the formalization of our alliance. Does that involve a party where you're from?"

"Usually." Keep it dry. Mnemon seemed to find that amusing. "No entourage?"

"Should I have returned with my entire army? No lesser honor guard would suffice, and I do not fear you. Now I did hope to be introduced to your friends. And to be greeted with a feast appropriate to my station." As best Buffy could read her, the Terrestrial was completely at ease. And completely honest, but she didn't believe that.

"Hungry?" Buffy asked disingenuously. "As a matter of fact, there should be food from my homeland just about ready in the kitchens. I've been buying Harborhead beef like it was going out of style."

"Quite hungry," Mnemon admitted, frowning slightly as if wondering what Buffy was getting at. Or amused by. "I'd love to sample your finest cuisine."

Buffy nodded agreement and poked her head through the palace door. "Lunch better be ready!" she shouted. Actually, she already knew it was, but she wanted to look in command and like a rube at the same time. Best if the most powerful woman in the Scarlet Empire underestimated her...a little.

"Amazing," Mnemon said. "And almost any sort of food might top this flatbread-meat and vegetables like you have here, but I can also imagine a sweet pastry variation for dessert-"

"Already out of the oven," Buffy pointed out.

"Beef, pork, chicken...I wonder about the spicy peppers that grow in the southwest..." Mnemon paused to shovel more pizza into her mouth. "...I suppose coming by fish here is nigh-impossible. Anyway, as I was saying, according to motonic theory the energies that power the Exalted also make up the substance of the world. To have them flow through you is to become more real. Therefore essence channeled through the body amplifies our appetites. If it didn't also make them similarly more efficient, we'd devour the world. So, to answer your question, no, the conventional energy requirements for the body are a negligible factor in this."

"Fascinating," Wesley said. "Would you try some chips?"

"Hmm?"

"Fried potatoes," Giles explained. "Soft inside with a faint crunch in the outer layer."

"Delightful," Mnemon said. "And what are those rolls with meat patties?"

"You want a burger?" Cordelia asked. "Here. Onions, pickles, tomatoes?"

"All of them. Good girl." Cordy bristled but assembled the sandwich. "It looks delicious." And Mnemon promptly dug in as if she hadn't eaten in a week.

"What's it like," Buffy asked, "being Exalted for four hundred years?"

Mnemon blinked. "I'm not sure I understand."

"It's like this. I've been the Slayer for five years. That's a long time. The average Slayer lasts about a year. There's only a few really big threats every once in a while, but the little ones are constant. I slayed vampires every night. Eventually one always gets lucky." She turned to Giles. "Who was the longest-lived Slayer in the records?"

"Well...ah, Semiramis lived out a normal human lifespan," Giles stammered, "that-that is, for a ruling queen in the third millennium BCE. Since the end of the Middle Ages? One lasted ten years in Indonesia, I believe. Since the Industrial Revolution, none longer than six, correlating with...with the increased focus on secrecy."

"They started training us not to flare our anima," Buffy explained, "till we didn't even know we had more energy to use."

"I'd say that was an atrocity," Mnemon said acidly, "but given they were mortals dealing with an Anathema, perhaps it was allowable." Her eyes widened slightly when everyone glared at her; then, after a moment, she laughed softly and shook her head. "Never mind that. What is it like after five years, Buffy?"

"I have more power than I know what to do with. I can eat literally anything. I mutate when my anima flares. I'm more than one person at a time. Just when I think I'm getting used to one new power I learn another. Even before I came here and learned what I was I was stronger, faster, and tougher than anything I knew of but some kinds of demons." Buffy gave her head a small sharp shake and laughed. "I barely feel human any more. And I guess I'm starting to get used to it, but...they tell me I could live for thousands of years like this."

Mnemon digested that-and a plate of fries-for a minute or two. "The Dragon-Blooded's powers are in some ways less than yours. I can go without food or sleep, even without air, but only for short periods of time. I can't undergo most of these transformations you're talking about. I do have a link to the natural elements, primarily earth, that you don't-and you can see in me how that grows stronger with age." Buffy nodded; hair aside, Mnemon resembled a moving statue of a woman. "I do have some idea of the loss of connection I think you mean-and yes, from time to time I discover some new ability, though it rarely startles me any longer. For one thing, I've learned to cultivate them carefully. Does that answer your question?"

Buffy considered that. "Yeah..I guess it does. So...these powers keep growing, keep changing me. And it's not all bad, especially as I get used to it, but when I try to think about the future..." She trailed off.

"I honestly don't know that any further explanation of Anathema is required," Mnemon said with wry amusement. "I don't believe I'll live long enough to transform in the ways you might. No Dragon-Blood will. I promise that I'll keep you from becoming a monster. We can write it into our wedding vows if you'd like."

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, but when she reopened them Mnemon was calmly sitting there, happily devouring a huge hamburger. "I'll think it over," she muttered.

"I know you have two different...cabals of allies," Mnemon explained. "They don't seem to mingle, for the most part. I really would like to meet both."

"Oh boy," Gunn said. "This is gonna get complicated." He picked at the remains of the pizza.

"I'm not from this world," Buffy began. "In my world the Slayer was the only Exalt. I saved the world from a baddie who wanted to make with the dimension-ripping and fell into the hole. So naturally, my friends came to rescue me. Only, then things got complicated. Guys?"

"Our entry into this realm damaged Fate," Giles said, "freeing up several Exaltations ahead of their time. Xander and Fred were the first to acquire them, then Anya and Willow. A copy of Buffy was Exalted as an Abyssal intentionally, and lastly Tara received Ma-Ha-Suchi's Exaltation. Have I got that all correct, Buffy?" She nodded to him.

"That leaves the four of us," Wesley said, "two vampires who have returned home, and Dawn, Buffy's supposed sister, who proved to be a raksha."

"The other group's a conspiracy of Infernals and deathknights who don't want the world to end," Buffy said. "I got snapped up the moment I fell into Creation. Cyan, Cearr, the Orchid-Eater, Gryfa Theed, a Captain...Feasalt, and possibly Sulumor are all willing to thumb their noses at the Yozis for personal power. A couple of Abyssals, Son of Crows and Meticulous Owl, have thrown in with us for pretty much the same reason." She didn't mention the friends of her friends just yet, let alone that they just might have the Black Heron batting for their team too. Claiming to be on good terms with a Deathlord? Not of the trustworthy.

"No doubt they have allies of their own," Mnemon observed. "Few people truly wish to see the world end, but many desire power."

"They're not all to be trusted," Buffy warned. Mnemon looked at her as if she'd said stone was hard. "Owl, for instance, specifically likes to talk about how he doesn't pity the Neverborn for suffering because he enjoys making people suffer. Of course, he also lies every three words or so."

Mnemon rolled her eyes. "Despot, I don't trust you. And you, if you are sensible, don't trust me. But if you have told the truth, you have connections to powerful allies across Creation, and that is what I need to help stabilize my rule."

"I'd have thought the Immaculate Order would be more useful to you," Gunn wondered. "You sure seem to buy into 'em."

"I believe that the Order promotes righteousness and stability," Mnemon said, "and I believe in the holiness of the Dragons. But with my mother gone and the Realm in upheaval, the people are losing faith. And large swaths of the Order are responding...counterproductively. The Wyld Hunt is neglecting some areas entirely and scourging others to no purpose. Heresies spread everywhere as people conclude the Order cannot-or will not-protect them. They are a tool I must fear will break at the first test, which I regret deeply but must accept. I can display my alliance with you for what it is-an act born of necessity-and so keep some support from the more pragmatic Immaculates, who will be of more use to me anyway."

Wesley nodded at that and said it was well thought-out, which Mnemon ignored completely. She stretched languidly and looked around the table. "Your hospitality in the matter of food is fitting to an ally of the Realm. But the body has other appetites of consequence to a marriage negotiation."

"Buffy said this was a political marriage," Cordelia spoke up. "I wasn't thinking the two of you were actually going to-" She broke off as Mnemon rose from the table and...swayed in her direction.

"I'm told you're a seer," Mnemon said. "Tell me what you see."

"Well it's not like it works that way," Cordy pointed out, emboldened again for the moment. "I only get-"

Mnemon's hand settled on Cordelia's shoulder. "If you are the Despot's friend, then surely by now you understand the desires of the Exalted." That marble hand moved to Cordelia's neck and forced her chin up until she was looking directly into Mnemon's eyes; Cordy's breath quickened. "For Terrestrials, some of these urges are stronger still. Fortunately, we have the charisma to...satisfy those urges...in a manner of our choosing." Cordelia's lips parted, and Mnemon bent down to kiss her on the mouth, producing a string of little pleasant whimpers before Mnemon broke the kiss. "Pleasant dreams, mortal. I have no interest in snapping Buffy's friends like a twig." She patted Cordelia on the head like a puppy and turned away, leaving her looking distinctly green.

Mnemon returned to her seat next to Buffy. "Is she always like that? And you tolerate it?" Beyond her, Cordy hopped up as if to flee the table, and Mnemon turned back to her, fixing her in stone-hard gaze. "Buffy, do you recall that how I forced you to release that supernatural enmity you made yourself feel toward me? Fear likewise can be transmuted, to anger or..." She gave Cordelia an incongruously flirtatious wink. "And yet since she fears her response all the more, it can only grow, just as your hatred for me was sustained by your own magicks and so fed back into increasing desire. Go on, child," she tossed off at Cordelia. "you don't interest me." With a little squeak of outrage, Cordelia fled the room. "That should keep her out from underfoot a while."

Buffy scowled at Mnemon, who took it in without changing. "That was...rude. At least. I mean, you didn't exactly take advantage, but you still-"

"I ran an annoying mortal off for making trouble," Mnemon said, her voice faintly tinged with exasperation. "I could have made her flee in terror. Instead, she'll have a pleasurable afternoon away from us. I don't understand your objection."

"Cordelia can be difficult," Wesley said nervously, "but she generally speaks the truth. I find she often punctures my illusions and makes me consider my situation with care. That's a valuable thing. Also, while you may not precisely have violated our world's laws, and in any case are outside their jurisdiction, your action could certainly be construed as inappropriate by our standards."

Mnemon groaned. "Well, we are not in your world, little man. Buffy, my goal was not to offend you, but if we are to be bedeviled by these mortals and their sense of propriety, is it possible we could speak in private instead?"

Buffy all but leapt from her chair. "I know just the place."

"You realize I was thinking of somewhere relaxing?" Mnemon said, taking in the circular stone chamber, its walls lined with weapons. "Such as your private quarters?"

"I promise you'll find this relaxing," Buffy said with a grin, "and my private rooms would never stand up to what we're going to do."

"Despot, I think we know one another's combat capabilities by now." She sounded grouchy. That was okay; Buffy was pretty grouchy herself.

"We know how we each fight a war. Forget war," Buffy said. "It's just you and me in here."

"I am surrounded by dematerialized spirits," Mnemon pointed out, "and you are evidently not even aware of that."

"Am now," Buffy said, raising her fists. "Leave them out of it...or don't, if you'd rather not. I'll kick their butts too."

"Were you not nearly killed in battle recently?" Mnemon wondered. "Surely you are not yet fully healed."

"Close enough," Buffy insisted. "Come on now, don't make me throw the first punch."

"If you must," Mnemon sighed. She flung out a hand, and the floor beneath Buffy exploded.

Buffy was already leaping backwards, turning a flip in midair. She caught a chunk of stone and flung it into Mnemon's face. It bounced harmlessly away, but by that point Buffy had the Scythe in hand. She lunged forward, stake-end aimed at Mnemon.

Mnemon put her hands together and caught the thrust. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Not many people where I come from can do that without cutting up their hands." Buffy pivoted the Scythe up suddenly, tossing Mnemon into the air. "I used it once on someone trying to end the world."

Mnemon came crashing down atop her. "Strange to have it turned back on you, I suppose." She locked her arm around Buffy's throat and put a knee in her back. "Not an armored stylist, I see."

"No, but my stylist says the simple hairdos are best." Too bad her hair wasn't with the animated right now. Instead she bent her arms backward till they were all but dislocated, clenched her fingers in Mnemon's hair, and bashed their heads together. There was an instant of disorientation, but Mnemon's lasted just a bit longer, and Buffy wriggled free.

Mnemon got to her knees, tapped her head on the ground, and set herself. The already statuesque woman stretched up still taller as stone ripped out of the floor to lock itself around her into an exoskeleton of living rock.

"You didn't use that one on me before," Buffy noted as her own eyes flared green and she began to grow.

"Is that a complaint? I had too much faith in my army, I suppose. Also, it. seemed more practical to threaten Gem...which in its way speaks well of you. You were concerned for your people." Mnemon lumbered forward and punched Buffy in the face with a rocky fist.

"Looks like a Thing versus Hulk match here. Mnemon, don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry." She returned the favor, but Mnemon was no more fazed than she was.

"On the contrary, Despot: become as angry as you like. You may have had combat in mind when I suggested privacy; I did not." She seized Buffy around the waist, then lumbered forward and slammed her into the wall. "But I believe Cordelia mentioned under her breath earlier that for you, this is like foreplay. Or 'first base', whatever that means."

"Oh, come on. Can't keep it in your pants till after the ceremony?" Buffy's arms were still free. She lifted them over her head and slammed them down on Mnemon's shoulders. Mnemon was driven down into the stone floor to her armored knees, reeling. "Okay, that was new."

"I'm not accustomed to requiring restraint in such matters," Mnemon said as she wrenched her feet loose. "That's a powerful style, better than the orthodox styles I know, but you seem to have little skill with it. I, on the other hand, have mastered mine." She burst into a furious rush of kicks and punches that hammered Buffy across the room blow by blow. "I expect better of warrior Anathema. I heard you were nearly killed by Dukantha only a few days ago. And then your mortal scholar dispatches him?"

"He got in a lucky spell," Buffy grumbled. She genuinely wanted to unleash the style's berserker fury on this royal pain in the ass, but the only time she could recall cutting loose with it she'd woken up covered in blood ape guts. She didn't thinkMnemon deserved that.

"You fight with too much restraint, Despot. I hear everywhere how reluctant you are to kill humans. You do not seem to comprehend this: unleash your worst." She seized Buffy by the legs and slammed her against the wall, deliberately grinding a half-healed burn scar against the rough stone. "I can take it. I am a daughter of the Scarlet Empress. I am the Chosen of the Earth Dragon. Stop insulting me!"

"All right," Buffy snarled. "You asked for it." In the back of her mind a warning tickle whispered that Mnemon was goading her, that this was a mistake...and then she realized why Mnemon was goading her and decided she didn't care. Rage flooded through her, rage to burn the world. She lunged at Mnemon, and Mnemon...smiled.

Buffy seized Mnemon's head to twist it off her body, pulled her close, and crushed their lips together till she drew blood.

"That is not how that style is supposed to work," Buffy said an hour later in the rubble of the training room. Most of the weapons were bent or in pieces and the floor was covered in gravel from the walls.

"Who cares how it's 'supposed' to work?" Mnemon chuckled. "I'm tempted to have another go. I'm not even tired." She gestured at the stone floor. "Benefits of being an Earth aspect."

"Lucky you," Buffy said with a cough. "Personally I feel like a nap. But..and I hate to say this...I'd do it again sometime. I take it the Earth moved for you too?"

Mnemon laughed.

Giles looked up as Buffy and Mnemon passed through the library, then sighed and began to clean his glasses. "Wesley is somewhere in the shelves. I'm sure he'd rather not be disturbed."

"That mortal knows too much magic already," Mnemon said, but she said it with a tolerant grin. "Shall we set a date, Despot Summers? I'd say tonight, but I'm not actually certain who has both the authority and the inclination to marry us."

"Eh, I always wanted a little fancy church wedding and a cute white dress." Buffy thought for a moment. "Maybe Anya'll do it?"

"You wish a former vengeance demon who punished unfaithful partners to officiate at your wedding?" Giles found all this darkly amusing, though he did understand the basis of all this dynastic foolery. "Wait. Now that I put it in those particular words, perhaps I see the function, if not the appeal."

"Because she's a heavenly official," Buffy pointed out, pouting a little. "Don't take the fun out of it. Anya's a Sidereal now," she explained to Mnemon.

"I don't know that your friends will carry the proper gravitas with Yu-Shan," Mnemon said. "Is she your age perhaps?"

"Anya just turned eleven hundred thirty-four," Buffy said smugly. "I told you, she was a demon for most of it."

For once, Mnemon appeared at a loss for words.

"It just appeared," Lucien explained, gesturing to the open field of copper roses. "As I believe it to be dread Sacheverell's new incarnation, I have remained here to await instructions."

"I approve your course of action," Orabilis affirmed. "I'm not certain it was necessary, but it was prudent." He studied the squat basalt tower. "It's taller than it appears from the outside, isn't it?"

"Yes," Lucien agreed. "When I look at it, I hear a name, though I can't yet make it out. Short and a little harsh."

"This is she," Orabilis proclaimed decisively. "The traces are faint but clear. This was Sacheverell. So far as I can tell my will is unimpaired, but we should conduct tests."

The Guardian of Sleep could only nod.

"Why have I been summoned here?" Calibration had ended with him bound here, and still his master had told him nothing but "Remain here till the time is ripe." When would the time be ripe?

The ghost in the fearsome mask only laughed, irritating him. His power was not yet fully built up after the summons, but he was angry enough to lay a hand on the fool anyway.

Nothing happened. "You're clean," he said, startled. "No righteousness in you at all."

The Mask of Winters' laughter roared in his ears.

"I found it in my mother's effects," Mnemon said wistfully. "I suppose she meant it for a true equal, if she ever found one."

Buffy studied the ring Mnemon held. The broad scaly band was a mixture of black and crimson threads that never quite mingled. It quivered and pulsed as if almost a live thing instead of dead metal. "Not sure I like it," she said uneasily.

"Well," Mnemon said, "I was planning to be the one to wear it. We'll find you a ring you prefer. I know you don't think well of me, but I regret Mother never had a chance to wear it."

"She's dead for sure, then?" Buffy said with a frown.

Mnemon nodded. "Don't spread that knowledge, Despot, but I found the body myself."