A/N: Wow, so it's been a bit of a stretch since I've had to introduce a chapter to this story, huh? Sorry that it's been so long, but you know how that goes – I figure if I get you guys to drop in a read a chapter now and then, I've done my job.
So, this is going to be a two-chapter update; I'm finishing up the second part of this update as we speak. I'm not sure if I'll be updating again by the end of today or if I'll wait till tomorrow, but either way, in the next couple of days, there will be another update. But take heart in the fact that the insanely long chapters are done! Hopefully forever.
Special thanks, as always, to all my reviewers.
So, with all that out of the way, let me present (lame drum roll sounds):
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
the Passion of Angels and Demons
Chapter 20
The Dance of Souls
(or, The Choice)
"If the Stoírm is allowed to finish its plan it will use Xander as the Doorway he was prophesied to be to open the way to Atlantis, where Pandora still lives, join Xander's body with the fount of human evil, and unleash Armageddon upon the face of the Earth. Despite my personal feelings on the matter, I can no longer argue with the decision of the entire Council…including myself.
"Alexander Harris must die."
The Lady of the Lake's voice rang out, loud, clear, and utterly unshakeable in the ruins of Giles' apartment.
"I dare you to try," Angelus snarled fatally, his demonic visage rendered even more horrible by the vicious wounds on his face, his yellow eyes enraged, his vicious fangs bared in a death-grin. Despite the fact that he could barely stand at that moment it was clear to everyone that he would fight to the death to protect Xander, and he would do his damndest to ensure that at least of the attackers would die with him.
"You can barely stand without shaking, vampire," the Lord of the Isle spat coldly. "Stand aside."
"And you can't use your fancy magic in this apartment, pussy," Angelus said with a deadly grin. "Care to see how long a little weakling like you would last against a hurt vampire without your spells to hide behind?"
"Unfortunately," the Lady said loudly, cutting off the Lord's enraged return, "the vampire is right. Despite these seven's wounded state, without our magic it would be a fight that none of us can afford right now if we wish to retain our strength."
"Now that we have that settled, we'll be saying good day, and you can clear out of here," Angelus said flatly.
"No. The decision does not rest with a demon," she returned. "The decision rests with the Slayer."
Buffy froze where she stood. She'd known this was coming, somehow, from the intensity in the woman's blue eyes she'd known that this was going to come down to something between them. There was a dart of understanding that was growing between them despite how much Buffy tried to damp it down, tried to ignore it. They both were facing the exact same dilemma.
They loved Xander – to Buffy Xander was like the brother that she had never had, always there for her even when she was at her worst, always cracking jokes in an attempt to cheer her up even when the odds were utterly overwhelmingly set against her. It had been Xander, a frightened sixteen year old boy, who had shoved a cross into Angel's face and demanded that the vampire take him to the Master's lair to save Buffy's life.
To Marie-Claire, Xander was like a son, almost, or a favorite pupil. Marie-Claire had rescued him from not only death but from his parents as well, even for a little while. She had fought to protect his life because she'd seen how precious the humanity in him was. She'd seen that bright Xander-smile that could cheer everyone around him up, she'd seen his genuinely helpful nature and his stupid white-knight complex that led him to try and save everyone around him no matter if he loved them or not.
And yet…
Buffy was the Slayer, the Chosen One born to not only slay vampires and protect humanity from demonic evil, but to protect the world from that evil. She knew without being told that everything that Marie-Claire had said was true; she didn't need Giles to verify it, she could feel it. And it was the only explanation that fit everything and made sense. And if the story was true, then so were the consequences.
The Stoírm demon must be stopped, it was as simple as that. And the only way to truly stop him the way that he should have been stopped, eons ago, would be to…to end the bloodline that gave him the power to potentially enter this world yet again. And the only way that blood would stop…she knew exactly what Marie-Claire was asking her to decide, because it was what everyone was asking her to decide.
She was the Slayer, and it was she at the end of the day, no matter how physically and emotionally exhausted she was, who had to decide the decisions that could potentially affect the entire world. She'd learned that lesson early and she'd learned it hard; deciding to skip one night of patrol in Sunnydale and four of her classmates would be dead the next morning, victims of a horrific demonic ritual.
No matter how powerful or influential Avalon was, no matter the sacred trust that they had been burdened with since Ferro had founded the magical island, this decision was going to be laid at Buffy's feet, because she was the Slayer, and the decision was too painful for Marie-Claire to make herself. Buffy felt suddenly so angry. She was only seventeen years old! Why the hell did she have to deal with this?!
"No!" Buffy snapped, jerking backwards from them. "No! It's not fair!" She was aware that she sounded like a whining child but at the moment that was what she was. A child! "You can't waltz in here from your stupid magic whosit and tell me to decide to kill my best friend! You can't! It's not fair!"
She was horrified to feel tears starting to build in her eyes, and she turned away from the overwhelming pity in the Lady's eyes. She didn't want pity; she wanted to go home and crawl into bed and forget that this nightmare was actually true and it was happening to her, again.
"I am truly sorry, Buffy," Marie-Claire said after a moment. "I can't begin to understand how hard this has all been for you…but you understand that in my position I can't afford to take personal feelings into consideration."
"Screw that, screw this and screw you," Cordelia said angrily, stepping forward. "You can't just come in here and say, 'let's get with the killing!' You said you've, what, 'bound' this thing before, right? Why can't you just do the same damn spell again? I mean, we just keep him away from fang face over there and what's the big deal?"
"It's not that simple, girl," Mathu snarled. "Can't you see? A mad vampire broke the Binding Spell in one night, simple as that, with an old vampire blood rite! The power of the bloodline, matched with whatever insane intervention the Tiocfaidh ár lá did to the boy and his mother has changed him, made him fulfill the prophesy of the Doorway! He can never be Bound; the threat must be eliminated before it destroys us all!"
"That's my friend you're talking about, you son of a bitch!" Cordelia yelled right back. "He's a human being and we can't just kill him because—"
"That is no longer your friend!" Mathu said angrily. "Look at him! The creature has taken him over, from the inside and out! Listen to me – I understand, the boy is your friend and you do not want to hurt him." For the first time since she'd met the little worm she heard some feeling in his voice. "But believe me when I say that you would be doing him a kindness – the beast has taken him over from the inside out. If there is even the slightest chance that his soul is still alive in there he would be suffering immense pain as it was boiled away as the Stoírm killed it in order to control the body."
There was a resounding silence in the apartment.
"Mathu is right," Marie-Claire said after a moment. "There's almost no chance that Xander is even still alive within the confines of the body."
"But there is a chance, right?" Willow said after a moment.
"Yes," Marie-Claire said hesitantly.
"You guys keep a watch on him – keep the sleeping spell up," Willow ordered, her voice ringing with unusual authority. "Ms. Calendar, come with us," she tossed over her shoulder as she led her friends out of the apartment with her. Jenny looked up in surprise and, after a moment, hurried after them. Willow, still not talking, led them past Giles' kitchen so they could all crowd in to Giles' small bathroom.
Angelus and Drusilla both recoiled from the window and ended up crouching in the tub, which looked so ridiculous that Buffy was tempted to give into a fit of hysterical laughter that was threatening to bubble up inside of her. She resisted and sat down on the toilet. Willow stood near the window while Giles blocked the door. Oz, after a moment, took up position on Willow's left side, blocking the vampires in the tub from being able to touch her without getting past the werewolf first.
Angelus sneered at him, but froze when Cordelia, casual as anything, sauntered over and perched herself gracefully on the edge of the tub. Drusilla looked up hungrily but Cordy regally ignored her and began examining her nails, not a trace of fear anywhere, despite the fact that both vampires could smell it coming off of her. She'd make one hell of a vampire, Angelus found himself thinking reluctantly.
Giles turned the lock in the door and murmured a few dusty, ancient words. The door made an odd squelching noise and the air seemed to grow a little tighter around all of them. "That will keep them from eavesdropping," he explained.
"I wouldn't be too sure," Jenny said softly. She was by necessity at the sink, uncomfortably close to Rupert. She was carefully not looking at any of them, unable to meet their eyes. Instead she turned to the mirror and traced a sigil onto the looking glass and murmured a few words of her own. The mirror turned a shocking shade of blue, an odd sort of ice, and then resumed its usual reflective properties. "Now they won't be able to see or hear."
Giles nodded to her, avoiding her eyes in turn. It was awkward, them being so close together again, and everyone in the bathroom felt it. Buffy couldn't help the small pang of guilt that went through her thinking of her part in adding to that awkwardness; instead she focused on the problem at hand. "Okay, Will – what are you thinking?" the Slayer asked.
"Well, from what we heard," Willow began, a little flustered now that all of their attention was on her (Cordelia was still inspecting her nails, looking mournfully at the one broken one on her pinky). "From what we heard," she started again, her voice a little stronger now, "the Binding Spell can't be used again. Whatever's in Xander's blood, Angel…did his thing and now that part of Xander's blood is awake, that's the way magic works – it can't be put back to sleep again."
"Of course not," Angelus said coldly. "Xander's immortal now."
There was a dead silence in the room, as if in a funeral; you could have heard a pin drop in the living room.
"What?" Buffy whispered, her voice dangerous.
"Didn't you listen to a word that the witch said out there, Slayer?" he snapped. "I Claimed Xander, and through that Claim he has been made immortal for as long as I exist."
"Which won't be for much longer," Giles snarled, stepping forward, his eyes glinting dangerously.
"Oh, bring it on, Watcher," Angelus said contemptuously, itching for a fight.
"Separate," Willow's voice rang out coldly, and before anyone could say anything Angelus and Giles were moving, being pinned to opposite walls by invisible hands. It was clear that the spell was taking a toll on Willow, even more of a toll than her body could take at this point, but still she kept it up. "Let's review the facts. Xander is out there, his soul maybe dying as the thing that put the 'evil' in 'devil' takes him over. If the thing does succeed in taking him over, then not only will all hell break loose but every human in here will die and every vampire on earth will likely be made into slaves, if they manage to not starve to death with all the humans dead.
"We have this one chance to maybe fix all of this without having to murder Xander, who everyone here cares about in one way or another. I do not have the time or the patience to deal with your two's pissing match. If you're done hosing down the bathroom with testosterone, I may have figured out a way to do this. Now, everyone shut up and let me finish!" Her skin was pale, her eyes dark and angry, her hair seeming to glow an even brighter red. Her entire figure radiated authority and anger.
"We'll be good," Cordelia said meekly after a moment, staring up at Willow. The young witch visibly relaxed, some of the tension draining out of the room as Angelus and Giles were released from the holding spell.
"What did you have in mind, Willow?" Jenny asked.
"Do you guys remember when the cursed hyenas were shipped in to the Sunnydale Zoo?" Willow asked.
"Cursed hyenas?" Angelus asked, his eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on his face.
"Yeah," Buffy said with a sunny grin on her face. "They shipped in about a week after you killed your Sire." Angelus froze in rage at the memory, but he swallowed the anger as Willow turned a threatening glance at Buffy and then at him. He had no choice but to respect the witch's power; weak as he was he couldn't fight her.
"In any case," Willow said, "the hyenas were already prepossessed of demonic intelligence, a rare breed of predatory animals that had been imbued with magicks by humans called Primals. Xander was possessed by one."
"Yeah, so?" Buffy asked.
"Well, he's possessed now," Willow said, looking to Giles now. "I think that we have this one chance, while Xander's soul still has the potential to be alive, to attempt a trans-possession like the one we did then." She looked a little hesitant about the validity of the idea but Buffy was already staring up at her with hope.
"Willow…we had a night of research before we spoke to the zookeeper who finished out knowledge of how to complete that," Giles said gently. "We don't have time or even the right lunar phase to create a reversal of Angel's ritual."
"I know that," Willow said. "The key thing is that Xander's soul is alive inside of him – back then, you weren't so hot at spell casting and I hadn't even started training in witchcraft yet. Now you can help, we have Ms. Calendar with us to help me, and I can cast the spell that I have in mind!"
"What spell, Willow?" Jenny asked urgently.
"The Tripudio d'Animus," Willow whispered.
"No," Jenny said flatly, and she was echoed a moment later by Giles saying "Absolutely not!"
"Why not?" Angelus demanded. "That has more than a chance of actually working—"
"I understand that you have no regard for anyone's life but Xander's at the moment, but clearly you've forgotten the part of the spell wherein if there is even the slightest mistake made the person entering the other's soul is likely to die, leaving their body in a vegetative state for the res t of their lives," Giles snapped.
"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Buffy demanded impatiently.
"The Dance of Souls," Drusilla said, her voice rising strongly, her eyes shining. "Open a door to the Doorway, the witch wants, call him out of his cage."
"What?" Cordelia asked irritably. "Speak English!"
"She wants to put the Slayer's soul together with Angel's demon and send them in to little Xander's possessed body so they can find his soul and exorcise the demon," Drusilla said, her voice ringing with a resounding 'duh.' They all stared at her. "I will be helping," Drusilla said calmly after a moment. "When do we start?"
"NO!" Giles snapped. "We can't risk—"
"What am I going to have to do?" Buffy asked, looking up at Willow.
"Buffy," Giles tried again. "This ritual almost never works right – as weak as we all are it stands a very good chance of not only killing your soul but killing Willow, the primary caster, and even any who help her. We can't go through with this half-cocked."
"What about me?" Angelus asked. "I don't have a soul to risk—"
"You stand a chance of being rejected by the Stoírm if we lose control of the spell. You'll either be murdered within Xander's body and your body will turn to dust, or you'll be magically ejected from Xander's body and your body will burn to ashes when your demon tries to reenter it," Jenny said flatly.
"Okay, so I think that we've all accepted that the risks are worth it," Cordelia said after a moment. When Giles raised his voice to protest she spoke over him, "or, we've accepted that no matter what anyone says Buffy and fang face over here are going to do it anyway. But there's another angle here that we all have to consider, no matter what."
"What?" Oz asked.
"What happens if this doesn't work?" Cordelia asked bluntly. "Willow said that we have this one window of opportunity, right? If this stunt doesn't get the job done, then what are we going to do? Not to mention that Willow isn't exactly running at full mojo right now."
"We'll do what we have to do," Buffy said quietly.
"Like hell," Angelus started with a vicious snarl.
"Yes, like hell," Buffy said sadly, not yelling at him, which stopped him. "If this stunt doesn't work, as Cordelia says, I'll be dead and so will you. There isn't anything left to say; we're the strongest here. It'll be left in the hands of Avalon, and they'll make sure that it's done right. Then Kendra will come up and take over the Hellmouth for me."
She said it without any emotion in her voice, just stating fact. She'd accepted it by now – one Slayer dies the next is called. She'd been faced with that fact when Kendra had first shown up in Sunnydale. When Xander had resuscitated Buffy after her brief death at the hands of the Master, no one had known that Buffy's death, even though it was only for about a minute or two, was enough to pass the Slayer legacy on to Buffy's successor. For the first time in all of existence, there was more than one Slayer on the face of the Earth. Kendra was a beautiful Jamaican girl with no last name; she had been given up by her parents to her Watcher when Kendra was a child to train as a Potential Slayer.
Although having her around had unnerved Buffy a great deal, it had also been something of a relief to know that should she ever lay down the mantle of the Slayer, she had a warrior as capable as Kendra to replace her. Kendra tended to fight by the book, without much imagination, she was still a very powerful, very dangerous warrior, and her first arrival in Sunnydale had led her to win a fight against Angel, nearly kill Buffy, successfully fight off Spike, and then kill an assassin from the Order of Terraka, which were no small feats.
"Buffy," Giles began softly.
"We're doing this, Giles," she said flatly. "It's Xander. You know as well as I do that if any one of us were in his position he'd already be doing this spell with or without our help. We'll do this, and if it doesn't work…then you guys will do the only thing that you can do for any of us kill the demon that did this in the first place, and save the world."
"Alright," he whispered, refusing to look her way.
"I think the cheerleader had a point," Angelus said after a moment. They all stared at him. "Slayer and I can go another couple of rounds if we have to but the witch can barely stand. We're going to do this but we need to make sure that the whole idea isn't a waste. Get someone else to cast the spell."
"We don't have anyone else!" Willow said angrily. "Giles dabbled in magic before but this is going to take someone who's at least training for being a full-fledged witch!"
"The Gypsy was training for it on Avalon, wasn't she?" Angelus demanded, pointing at Jenny.
"I don't have near enough training, power or control to even try the Dance of Souls," Jenny refuted. "I can guide Willow in her efforts if she needs it and focus the power that she's going to summon, but being a funnel is about all I can promise."
"As much as I hate to admit it," Giles said, I can appreciate Angelus' point. We need someone who hasn't been through what Willow's been through, if we're really going to do this."
"Giles—" Willow began angrily.
"Willow, I am not saying that you're weak. What you've done up to this point demonstrates an extraordinary amount of power and talent waiting to be tapped within you – but they must be tapped at the right time," Giles said strongly. "Every witch, no matter how strong, needs to recharge, to ground themselves and regain their energies. You've been casting healing spells since last night, on to this morning, with only a slight sleep before you joined the fight against a demon overlord, put it into a magical sleep, shielded a spell from the Lady of the Lake…it's more than a wonder that you're still on your feet!"
"There may be something that I can do about that," Jenny said after a moment, her face tortured.
"What?" Buffy asked, not gently but not unkindly. She didn't know what she felt towards the Gypsy at this point, but it wasn't hatred. If anything, it was understanding – Jenny too had been forced to keep a secret, to hurt herself and her friends in order to fulfill her duty to her destiny. Buffy could relate all too well.
"It will require betraying all of my training and my teachers…" Jenny trailed off. "We'll go out there and announce our intentions. If they won't help us, then I'll cast the spell." Her voice was strong and sure, and for the first time since she'd walked into the apartment she freely met their eyes. She'd made her choice, once and for all – and she was standing with them.
"Thank you," Buffy said, and Jenny nodded gratefully.
"Very well," Giles said, and said the spell to unlock the door and break the protective silence around it. The envoy from Avalon was standing much as they had been before the Slayer's group had walked into the bathroom and held their council (there weren't many non-destroyed areas to sit on or in), and now they looked up, their eyes unreadable as Buffy and Angelus led the way in, side by side.
"Have you come to terms with your decision?" the Lady of the Lake asked after a moment. It was a loaded question; clearly she meant the decision to side with the Moon Coven and destroy the demon, but it had a hell of a hole in it that allowed Buffy to look at her with utter strength and resolution and say, "Yes, we have."
"Very well," the Lord of the Isle said, standing up and taking point, the Master and Mistress of the Guard behind him. Larana, the Seer, sat on the stairwell, her eerie blind eyes trained on them all, her expression dreamy. She didn't say a word, but Buffy had the feeling that the girl knew everything and more and for some reason was going to let them go through with their plan.
"We'll need you to follow our instructions—" Marie-Claire began, also moving into position.
"We've made our decision," Buffy said flatly, and she moved with her friends in V-formation behind her to stand like an arrow pointing straight at the Lord and Lady, blocking Xander's unmoving form from sight.
"You must be joking," Mathu began, but Buffy moved her hand in a 'shut up' motion and the man fell into a shocked, sulky sort of silence at the blatant disrespect. But then, Buffy was the Slayer, at times a horrific job, she who gave up her life to stalk cemeteries, destroying the worst of this world, protecting humanity. Seventeen years old and this girl had prevented three apocalypses already, giving her life up for one of them. She had earned her right to expect a little respect from other mystical authorities.
"We're going to try something, and if our plan doesn't work, then we'll…we'll do everything to help you to kill the Stoírm," Buffy said.
"What plan, Slayer?" Marie-Claire asked. "Don't you realize that we aren't running on an infinite time schedule? This decision is hard for me too – not as hard as yours is but I care about Xander, too! You think I come here with joy in my heart? No matter what happens here this day the demon will still have won a victory against us, will have taken something precious from us all. But I know that I have no choice but to do this thing!" The Lady of the Lake was practically shaking, her eyes like she was about to start crying, a polar opposite to the Lord of the Isle, who was practically radiating fury.
"We have enough time to try this," Giles said, and it relieved Buffy that he was still standing strong behind her in her decision. She loved Giles – at times the Watcher was more like a father to her than her own. But she also knew that he would rather see anyone else in the world hurt than his loved ones. If he truly thought that Xander was a lost cause he would have found a way for Buffy to not risk her life.
If he could have found a way to remove the burden of being the Slayer from Buffy's shoulders, he would have a long time ago.
"Try what?" Marie-Claire was asking in frustration now.
"Tripudio d'Animus," Giles said. The color drained from her face and she stood there, frozen and unable to speak for quite a pause.
"Are you mad?!" she hissed after the moment had passed. She looked like he'd gut-punched her without warning; even the rest of her group looked as shocked as a nun who'd heard her first curse word. "Are you completely insane?! Do you even realize how many of our number have died attempting that spell, at full health, under the right circumstances, in situations less dire than this?! How the hell do you expect to pull this off?" Her voice was growing thick with a French accent in her agitation.
Buffy paused. Apparently Willow hadn't been completely truthful with all of the risks involved with the spell – it was starting to sound utterly impossible.
"I'm going to cast it," Willow said, stepping forward bravely.
"You have gone mad, Watcher!" Marie-Claire shrieked. "That you would even allow this lunacy to enter into her head! Look at her! She has used more magical energy than I have ever seen in a girl her age and still be standing; she looks like a bird could kill her with a broken wing! She's barely more than a novice and you would allow her to try the Dance of Souls?! I thought you a man of heart as well as mind, Rupert Giles; clearly I was wrong," she finished off, cuttingly. Giles blanched for a moment and Buffy felt herself going red with rage.
"Don't you talk to him like that!" she said angrily, stepping forward. "And don't talk to Willow like she's a child! She's been through more than any of you in the last year and she's still standing, ready to do this for her friend. We've got one chance to do this before we have to go to last resort and murder someone we all love – are you going to help us or are you going to get the hell out of my way?" Buffy demanded, her eyes glinting dangerously.
"I would help if I thought this fool's errand stood half a chance," Marie-Claire said. "I implore—no, I beg you, Slayer: do not do this thing!"
"Sorry, Lady," she said blithely, unmoved. "Guess we're doing it on our own then."
"Janna, by the Oath of Allegiance to the Holy Isle, I command you to stop them at once," Mathu said flatly, his voice ringing with authority. And that simple phrase had the power to stop everything. Oaths sworn in magic were binding in more ways than one; to break one had the potential for horrific results. The Oath of Allegiance was the most sacred of these. It was the oath that Jenny had taken to obey the orders of the Moon Coven, and if she were to disobey those orders then she would be cast out of the magical world, less than nothing, not even considered a practicing witch.
It was, in some ways, all that she had left to her – Rupert certainly wasn't going to welcome her back with open arms any day soon. Her tribe was furious with her for allowing Angelus to break free, leading to the horrific death of her uncle Tomas. She still had nightmares about walking into his tiny hotel room to see his body, drained of blood, torn open and eviscerated, desecrated, with the words WAS IT GOOD FOR YOU TOO? scrawled on the walls, a love note from Angelus.
She had nothing left but her holy vows. She h ad been cast away from everything that gave her life meaning; even teaching had lost its joys when she was confronted with Willow, Buffy, Xander and Rupert every day of her professional life. She remembered the peace and solitude that you could find in the rich forests of Avalon. She imagined working one of the great earth magicks there, spinning herself into the woods, becoming a wood nymph, a dyad to live amongst the trees and know nothing but the calming pulse of the Mother and Father surging through her.
To forget. Some days, that was all she wanted.
"My name is Jenny," she said, her voice strong, allowing no uncertainty into it. Yes, she wanted to forget. But she couldn't. She wasn't a true Gypsy, never had been; when her uncle had came to her and demanded that she serve the purpose of vengeance even though innocent people would get hurt she'd been disgusted. Xander was an innocent and more, and she loved Rupert, more than she'd loved anyone in her life. Yes, her life was painful right now – but it was through that pain that she knew that she was alive, and in the end, that was the greatest gift that she could ask of any god.
She had made her choice.
"Janna…you can't do this." Marie-Claire's voice was reasonable, despite the fact that she looked like Jenny had slapped her. "You can't help them through with this insane plan!"
"I have to," Jenny said calmly. "I'll accept the consequences of my actions, milady, and I'm sorry that it's you I'm doing this to. But I have enough on my conscience without knowing that I could have helped save this boy and instead stood by and helped you kill him without trying."
"Very well," Mathu snarled, his fists clenched. "Speak not in our presence again, Gypsy. You've disavowed your oath to the God and Goddess, to—"
"I've disavowed my oaths to you, not to God," Jenny cut him off. She was breathing as fast as if she'd run a mile, her mind already whirring with the spell that she was about to perform, this forbidden spell. She felt Rupert's concern behind her and she was again washed in a calm surety of her love for the reserved Englishman, that she had made the right choice. She'd followed her heart, and that was the most she could do.
"It matters not," Mathu pointed out after a moment. "The Lady is correct in saying that you cannot perform this spell, novice, and none of Avalon will aid you. Your plan is doomed to failure before you start."
"I'll rip it out of you if I have to," Angelus hissed through his fangs. The vampire staggered to his feet, baring his fangs like an animal as he clenched his fists.
"You wouldn't dare, vampire," said the Lord of the Isle.
"He isn't wrong," Jenny said, a tear finally breaking from her trembling eyelashes to fall hot on her cheek. They really didn't have a chance against her spell, because the oath Willow had evoked from them prevented them from so much as defending against an attack, leaving them vulnerable to her attack. Jenny felt a wince of pain as her pupils dilated, a rush of warmth as the power of the earth shot through her body, leaving her weak as she gave into it. Too late they recognized her invoking posture; the Master and Mistress of the Guard futilely moved in front of their protectorates.
"Lord of Earth and Lady of Fire
I call their power unto me
Cast their magic from soul's pyre
Through the air, wild and free!"
Jenny gestured toward the Master and Mistress; simultaneously their legs buckled and their eyes rolled backward into their heads. The Mistress cried out in pain, briefly, and then she collapsed next to the Master, already unconscious. From their hearts an intense red light, flickering like fire but radiating pure power, rose, burning through the air. Then, it slammed into Jenny's chest with the power of a freight train. Screaming in pain, she vaguely felt herself hurled through the air as Rupert dove behind her and caught her before she fell.
"NO!" Marie-Claire was screaming, somewhere in that hazy background. But Jenny didn't hear her – in fact, she didn't feel much of anything just now but a sort of heated haze flickering through her awareness, tingling like electricity as her power banks soared past how much she could contain. Her senses shot out and she could feel the imprints of everyone in the room, her mind shying away from the alien strangeness of Drusilla and Angelus (but Angelus loved Xander, so strange and twisted and dark)—
To Buffy, a core of solid strength within a vulnerable girl close to breaking, to Rupert, full of light but tinged with darkness, battling a tendency toward darkness within, to Oz, so genuinely calm, a tranquil pool that rippled with love for Willow…and Willow, a beacon, a torchlight of pure magical power that made Jenny's breath catch in her throat (she'd never dreamed that Willow could hold such power within her but it was there, Goddess, it was there); to Cordelia, strong and proud Cordelia with a pure heart, to Xander, faintly there but still a beacon of something like happiness on sunny days underneath a darkness so strong it made the bile rise in her throat.
It was enough. She lifted her hands and called on all the power within her body and shot a burning red flicker to Buffy, who screamed in utter agony as every bone in her body telekinetically smashed itself back into alignment and healed; to Angelus, who roared in pain as his demon fed on the power like blood, healing what it could and so hungry for more; little flickers to the others, who sighed as a sort of soothing heat healed little cuts, little exhaustions, not as bad as the Slayer, no, not as bad – and then there was the big rush, the enormous flame that seared into Willow's heart.
The young witch threw her head back and cried out—not in agony, no, not like Jenny—cried out in exultance, in utter pleasure as her feet slipped from the ground. "Willow!" Oz shouted, but there was a note in the air like a song as Willow's hair lifted from her head in a phantom breeze, the red haze of magic encasing her body like flame as her eyes drifted closed. Drusilla's eyes were huge and dark with the Sight as she moaned, pointing at Willow, who finally, slowly, drifted back to the ground, standing tall, her aura radiating something fierce and strong and true. In the silence of the ruined apartment Willow opened her eyes, and they were glowing a deep crimson.
"Great Goddess," the Lady of the Lake whispered. Marie-Claire stood on shaky feet, trembling as Willow closed her eyes and sagged into Oz's arms. "Jenny, what have you done?"
"What I had to do," Jenny muttered faintly. Her body was still pulsing at the rush of magic and her muscles were so slack that she doubted she could stand. Rupert gently lowered her into a sitting position and moved her hair from her eyes.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers with concern as if they were in their own microcosm, cut off from the grand act of betrayal she had just committed.
"Check on Willow," she answered. He squeezed her hand and she had enough in her to be grateful for that before she shut her eyes.
"Is she okay?" Cordelia asked.
"She'll be fine after she wakes up," Giles answered. He took his glasses off and vaguely wiped them on his dirty shirt. "The spell that she performed was…incredibly forbidden. It's likely she'll be exiled from the magical world after that."
"As well she should, the traitor," Mathu rejoined. His lips were curled back in a sneer. Cordelia turned to Giles and cocked her eyebrow.
"So, he can't do anything magic-wise to me because of the thing that Willow did with the thing?"
"If I understand you correctly, no he can't," Giles answered, blinking.
"Cool!" Cordelia exclaimed brightly. Then she turned around and slammed her fist into Mathu's face. "Ow!" She shook her fist out and muttered mutinously as he stumbled back, clutching his nose.
"She bode my nobe!" the Lord forced out thickly.
"You deserved it – oh my God, I broke a nail!" Cordelia moaned.
"What just happened?" Willow stuttered. She blinked slowly and pushed herself a little away from Oz, standing on her own on shaky legs. "I feel like…I feel great!"
"Jenny ripped the magical energies of the guards and sent them to you – after healing the rest of us, somewhat," Giles explained.
"Oh," Willow said, chewing her lip. "Isn't that wrong?"
"To say the least," Marie-Claire cut in, her eyes blazing. "You insane plan has led one of Avalon's own to break one of the greatest of our laws – have you any idea the penalty for performing that spell?"
"With all due respect, you are not on Avalon any longer, Lady," Giles rejoined, his eyes flashing with steel and meeting her gaze head-on.
"No, and neither is she," Marie-Claire said after a moment. "Nor will she ever be allowed to set foot on the Holy Isle again for the rest of her days. However, as Jenny is now incapacitated, I will take her place."
"Pardon?"
"I will lead the Tripudio d'Animus," she elaborated.
"Out ob de question!" Mathu exclaimed thickly, pinching his nose. "You are de Lady ob de Lake! You cand pud your libe in danger bor dese bools!"
"I won't be," she told him. "I'll only be leading it. Every risk of the spell will rest on the witch casting it and the participants. We will accept your terms, Slayer, not that we have much choice at this point. I will do what I can to help the spell, and if and when it does not work, we will continue in our original objective."
"Fine," Buffy snapped. She bit down on her lip in an effort to not scream as she moved forward. Her entire body felt like long, thick needles were being driven through every nerve ending. She needed to sleep for about a week. Maybe two. And then eat lots and lots of chocolate.
"Before we begin, however, I'll make sure you understand what you're doing." Marie-Claire drew herself up regally, every inch the Lady of the Lake. Buffy felt like she was about to be on the receiving end of one of Giles' longer lectures.
"We don't have time—" Angelus began, stepping forward with his lips curled over his fangs, but the Lady held up a hand and narrowed her eyes.
"We'll make time for this fool's errand, vampire. I cannot use my magic on you, that's true, but there are thousands of strength and endurance tests the Lady of the Lake must pass before she's capable of handling the Great Magic. I will fight you, I will win, and I will end you." Their eyes met, witch to vampire, and Angelus paused. There was a genuine core of strength in this woman, a fire and steeliness to her eyes that made him think twice about taking her up on her challenge. Finally, he lifted a hand, a king acquiescing her to continue. She smirked insultingly at his attempt at regaining the upper hand and deliberately turned her back to him, as if to say I have no need of fearing you at my back. His fists clenched.
"The Dance of Souls is an ancient enchantment conceived centuries ago, allowing one person to merge their essence with another person's. This was usually for the purpose of healing or to extract vital information, but always in an extreme situation such as this," she began, her voice slightly hoarse after the hours of talking she'd already performed this morning. "As any who have studied magic already know, there exist myriads of ways to join minds, but the Dance of Souls is different. It joins the essences, the true souls of the people it includes in the spell.
"This is extremely dangerous, for obvious reasons. Should anything happen to your Soul-Self during the spell, your body will retain the damage. Should your Soul-Self be lost during the spell, your body will remain in a permanent vegetative state without a soul within to animate it. And should your Soul-Self die during the spell, or have something go wrong while extracting or retracting your soul, you will die, instantly and painfully."
"Fun," Buffy said gamely. "When do we start?"
"Don't be stupid," Angelus said. "You can't do this."
"Why not?" Buffy demanded, wheeling around.
"You're the Slayer," he elaborated. "Whatever happens after this, you're the only one that's going to be able to handle it. They're going to need you undamaged."
"And when the hell did you start caring about whether or not I live or die?"
"I don't," he said simply. "But if you were hurt in this and Xander woke up he'd blame himself." Buffy looked away from him, but not before he saw the hurt flash across her face.
"So who do you suggest do this, then?" Giles asked.
"Me," Angelus said. "Obviously. I don't have a true soul to risk, and the spell needs to be cast on someone Xander is…close to." His voice dripped innuendo.
"You bastard," Giles snarled, starting forward with his fists raised.
"Giles, stop," Willow said. "We don't have time for this!"
"Both of them are going to do it," Jenny said tiredly, pushing herself to a sitting position. Every bone in her body felt leeched of strength; she wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep – but she didn't have the time for that luxury. Everyone stared at her. "The spell's never been performed on more than two people, so there's more chance of success. Also, none of us trust that you didn't do this to Xander on purpose, so that way Buffy can make sure you're not causing more damage than you already have. You're both going to be in there, so that means you'll have to work together if you want to get out."
"It's as good a plan as any, where this spell is concerned," Marie-Claire conceded. "Watcher, do you have any supplies left?" She surveyed the destroyed apartment.
"Yes, in the chest," Giles said. "What do you need?"
"Candles, of any kind, a cord, some oil, and a ritual blade," she said. "Jenny, can you draw the Circle of Psyche around them?"
"Yes," Jenny nodded, struggling to her feet. Rupert rushed forward gallantly to help her up, and she gave him a smile as she brushed him away. He looked hurt but there was nothing she could do about that. It was time to learn to stand on her own two feet. She went to fetch the chalk from Giles' cache of magic supplies.
"I thought Psyche was the goddess of soul mates," Willow said.
"That part was only tacked on as part of her marriage to Eros," Marie-Claire said distractedly as she started going through the supplies Giles was giving her. "Psyche is the patron goddess of all things to do with the human soul."
"What do we do?" Angelus asked.
"Strip," the Lady instructed.
"Excuse me?" Buffy asked.
"I need to perform the fastest purification ritual I can think of and for that I need you naked; now strip!" Marie-Claire commanded impatiently. Angelus sighed and started shrugging his clothes off without much fuss. Buffy looked around in embarrassment as Giles and the others averted their gazes. She glared at Angelus.
"Nothing I haven't seen before, Buff," he offered cheerfully as he shrugged his shirt off his shoulders, unbuckling his belt. Her cheeks burned with rage and humiliation as she jerked away from them. Giles made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, but he didn't say anything.
Once they'd stripped, Marie-Claire sprinkled salt over Buffy. "In the name of the God and Goddess, I purify this girl – may she bring only light, strength, and power to the spell." Buffy felt as if her skin was tingling and she fought the urge to start scratching her skin. Marie-Claire, meanwhile, moved on to Angelus. "In the name of the God and Goddess, I purify this vampire – may he bring only strength, power, and clarity to the spell." The salt, where it hit Angelus' skin, made a sizzling noise and he growled in pain as angry red welts rose from where the purification spell had struck him; his demonic face rippled away the illusion of humanity and he bared his teeth.
Oz was holding Willow's hand as they stared into each other's eyes, whispering to each other as they thought of the possible parting that was to come. The scene was too intimate, so Giles looked away to see Cordelia staring at Xander's form determinedly.
"What is it?" he asked her.
"I'm remembering Xander like this," Cordelia said quietly. "I want…I need to remember him like this, in case this doesn't work and they have to…and I have to lose him."
"It's going to work. Buffy won't allow it to not work," Giles said flatly.
"I wish I had your faith," she said simply, and turned away, but not before Giles saw the tears shimmering in her eyes that she would not allow to fall. Cordelia was far too proud for that. He knew that she would hold it together, perhaps better than Buffy herself, until the end of this nightmare. Once again he found himself astounded at the depth of Cordelia's strength that she almost never revealed.
"We need to begin now," Marie-Claire said calmly, but Drusilla, silent all this time, stepped forward.
"I will be helping," she said calmly.
"You're insane," Marie-Claire pointed out reasonably.
"And you're a Wiccan," Drusilla said brightly. "You can't work with demonic essences. I can, and the stars whisper to me what must be done. I will guide Daddy through his journey."
"Milady, we can't trust—" Mathu began, clenching his fists.
"We don't have a choice," Marie-Claire bit off coldly. "Do you honestly know what to do with him?" She gestured at Angelus. Drusilla nodded calmly, every inch the queen. "Very well. I'll follow your lead when it comes to the vampire."
"He must sit at Little Brother's heart," Drusilla said. "The Slayer must sit at his head."
"The two seats of the human soul," Marie-Claire nodded. "Why not the other way around?"
"Because he loves Xander," Buffy said quietly. She stood, crossing her arms to shield herself, looking not so much like a child as the chaste goddess of the hunt, distant and removed from everything around her. "It'll help him get a foothold in the spell."
"Yes," Drusilla said, nodding approvingly as if Buffy was a student answering a teacher's question correctly. "And the Slayer is his best friend, while the little witch is his other best friend. He needs every anchor that he can get."
Something unreadable and not easily understood in that moment passed through Buffy and Angelus when their eyes met. Oddly, he looked away first. Giles longed desperately to gather his Slayer into his arms and let her cry, but he knew that she couldn't allow that. She needed to be strong. For that, he hated Angelus even more. Willow, meanwhile, gripped Oz's hand as tightly as she could, and he kissed her gently, his love an anchor to everything she held dear. But she forced herself to let go, to give him one last brave smile. And then she turned away and went to help. She knew Oz's eyes would never leave her, the brave young werewolf protecting her to the last.
"Sit cross-legged. Close your eyes and try to relax as much as possible," Marie-Claire said as they directed the two to their positions. Marie-Claire took the candles that Giles had procured and set them in a circle as Willow drew a circle around the candles with chalk. Drusilla took the chalk from Willow and began tracing arcane symbols around it as Marie-Claire cut strips of cord. The first she tied from Buffy's wrist to Xander's, the second from Angelus' to Xander's, and the third she tied from Buffy's arm to Angelus', forming a rough triangle tying the three together.
"Alright. It's time to begin. Willow, are you ready?" Marie-Claire asked. Willow nodded determinedly. Drusilla moved and stood behind Angelus as he sat on the floor to the left of Xander, closest to his heart; Buffy sat to the right, closer to his head – the two seats of the human soul. Willow stood at Xander's feet, her feet spread, her hands crossed in front of her in the spellcaster's position. Marie-Claire moved to Buffy's side, creating on oddly shaped circle within the confines of the Circle of Psyche Jenny had invoked on the floor.
"What I'm going to do now is join a small portion of my mind with yours – to give you a sort of knowledge of how to perform the spell. Meanwhile, everyone not involved needs to stay outside of the Circle for the duration of the spell…no matter what you might see or hear. Do you understand?" She glanced around the room. Mathu nodded tersely and Laurana, the Seer, kneeled next to the groggy guards and nodded serenely. Giles, Jenny, Cordelia and Oz all nodded, but Oz sent Willow a look loaded with meaning. Willow smiled gently at him and turned her attention away.
"Begin," Marie-Claire said softly, and breathed out. A breath of wind whispered through the room, filled with the scent of apples. Willow felt a sensation, as if her mind was being brushed by a butterfly from a distant land. She closed her eyes and opened herself to the sensation. The Lady of Avalon's mind was a foreign thing, filled with light and magic that Willow could barely dream of. She gasped, caught in the feeling of the magic as it moved around her, shifting the air like currents. As soon as she was open, though, a dark force, beautiful and stately as a raven's flight, touched the joined light of Willow and Marie-Claire's minds.
Drusilla, Willow thought, and though she couldn't explain how, the darkness agreed. Her breath caught as she suddenly felt a splinter of the dark vampire's madness, a startling gasp of pain and rage and sorrow and hatred and also a calm serenity that encompassed the splintered pieces of a mirror that was Drusilla's mind, one that Angelus had so cruelly shattered so long ago. Willow was surprised that a small darkness within her responded to that part of Drusilla, allowing them to work in synchronicity. Marie-Claire obviously disapproved, but it would work for the spell.
Willow took another deep breath and thought, ignite. The candles around the circle sparked, burst into flame. She sensed Giles take a startled step backward, but the Circle's energies began to build like a cauldron around her. There was nothing left but the magic.
"As above," Marie-Claire began, dipping her finger in the rose oil and tracing arcane figures on Buffy's chest and forehead.
"So below," Drusilla finished, tracing the same figures on Angelus' brow and chest. The oil shimmered in the flames, smoke rising to create a sort of incense that carried with it the scent of burning roses – magic. Willow breathed it in and felt a surge of wild power flowing through her, absently felt it as her feet left the floor, her hair blowing in a phantom wind. She felt the dark knowledge of Drusilla melding in the back of her mind with Marie-Claire's magical knowledge, and she drew on this now, joining them all together in the Circle, focusing all the energies on the Xander/Stoírm's enchanted form within the ruins of the apartment.
A silvery glow emanated from the candles, rising in an ethereal mist that drifted towards everyone in the Circle. No, Willow thought, and her psychic form directed the mist toward Buffy, Angelus and Xander, leaving Marie-Claire and Drusilla outside the sphere of its influence. Buffy gasped as the warm mist drifted over her skin, and Willow felt Angelus' psyche start to fight it off. She sent a soothing tendril of magic over him and he slowly relaxed as the Mists of Psyche penetrated his mind. The enchantment had begun.
"By spirit and soul I invoke thee,
Power of the great goddess Psyche
Let your power fly within this Circle
Grant those who seek to journey their request
Within the Circle lies one lost to thee
A soul overtaken by the king of the damned
Let the fires of the Circle rise to their greatest heights
Send their souls unto their flights!"
Willow threw her arms wide as the Circle sealed itself off from the rest of the living room in a blinding flash of light; winds flew from it and knocked Giles, Cordelia and Mathu off their feet. The light crossed around like heavenly fire, emanating a song, a chant, a whisper that sounded like Greek but was nothing that Giles could make out. He stared in awe through the lights at Willow, hovering above the ground, directing the power as a conductor would a symphony. The light touched Willow's fingertips and shot from their like the arrows of Eros and hit Buffy and Angelus in the heart.
They cried out simultaneously as the light bore out something silvery and beautiful from Buffy and a darkness so cold and horrifying from Angelus that Cordelia gasped and backed away – the essence of the demon. At the core of Buffy's essence Giles saw that self-same darkness reflected, and he shuddered at the affirmation of the dark knowledge of the Slayer's origins. But there was no time for reflection, for the song, the power-chant of Psyche had reached its fever pitch and Buffy and Angelus' essences swirled around the Circle like birds in flight. Drusilla threw her head back and cried out in something akin to ecstasy as Marie-Claire looked frankly terrified.
The figures circled around each other in a timeless dance until Willow conjured a thread of blood-red light from her fingers and directed it straight to Xander's heart. The essences swirled once more in a brilliant tornado and then plunged directly into Xander's being.
Like marionettes cut from their strings, Buffy and Angelus' bodies hit the floor. Willow remained in the air as Marie-Claire and Drusilla slumped, trembling. The lights of the Circle slowly receded in brilliance but maintained a steady shield from the rest of the world. "It's done," Marie-Claire said. Her voice sounded almost as if she were speaking underwater, slow and removed from the rest of the world. "Now it is up to them."
Giles held Jenny in his grasp as Cordelia, exhausted, collapsed against a wall, her eyes on Xander. Oz kept his gaze on Willow, ever her protector. Mathu stood, glaring like a hawk as he fixed his eyes on the magic in front of him, while Laurana sat, divinely calm, with the unconscious guards. "Now it is up to them," the blind girl repeated, but no one heard her in the midst of the loudest silence any of them had ever experienced.
A/N: So, there you have it – the first new chapter of the Passion of Angels and Demons that I've been able to churn out for quite some time! Be expecting the next new chapter soon!
See ya!
PyroPadawan