No one heard Buffy. The fight across the room continued, despite Jack's efforts to separate the combatants. Placing both palms flat on the bar, Buffy leaned over the counter and sniffed. "Fire!" she announced again – with even more emphasis.
Whether the others actually heard her, or they saw the first wisps of smoke floating near the ceiling wasn't clear. However, several of the young men raised their heads and looked around. The sound of sniffing intruded on the battle noises. "Fire!" one of them echoed.
Buffy wasn't satisfied with that. The smell of the smoke scared her. Fire was bad. It burned and it hurt. Nevertheless, she leaped over the bar and began hunting for the source of the blaze. She had to dodge the milling forms of the other patrons. They'd finally been diverted from the fighting by the new threat.
Panicked grunts and pointing fingers replaced the howls and wild punches from a few minutes earlier.
Ignoring it all, Buffy followed the smell. It led her out of the main barroom. She coughed as the smoke grew thicker while she paced through a dark, narrow hallway. The stench of urine mixed badly with the odor of the fire. Her nose wrinkled in distaste, but she kept going.
The heat made its presence known. Buffy placed her hand against the wall and now followed the warmth. It wasn't necessary. She saw the blaze before she actually discovered the source.
Yellow flames licked along the bottom edge of the door down the hall to the right, and thick black smoke billowed from around the frame. Buffy stopped and grunted in fear. Fire was bad. She retreated a step; the need to flee jangled her nerves.
"Buffy! We can't get out." The panic in Jack's voice spun her around. She stared at him in confusion until he waved her toward him. "Please. You have to help us!"
Some inner urging got her moving in his direction.
He gripped her arm and dragged her back into the barroom. The destruction was worse than before. Not a single chair or table was intact. The young men who had been brawling now held makeshift clubs and battered at the walls and exits. The smoke, which had previously only darkened the ceiling, now swirled through the entire room.
"Out," Buffy said sternly to Jack. She pointed at the main door.
Jack shook his head. "We tried. It's locked from the outside.
Driven by that inner voice, Buffy ignored Jack and ran to the door. She shoved on the silver push bar with no effect. Growling, she then threw herself bodily into the heavy metal door the next time. It still didn't work.
They had to get out. That need pounded through her. The fire was bad. Turning her head, Buffy glimpsed the flames beginning to spread toward the side wall of the bar. Whimpering deep in her throat, Buffy scanned the rest of the room. There were no more exits.
Then a mug shattered against the wall next to her.
Buffy watched the tiny shards drop to the floor. Raising her hand, she stared at the nearly healed cut from earlier. "Bad beer," she mumbled at the memory. Striding forward and shoving one of the others out of the way, Buffy hefted the remains of a table.
She looked up at the small series of windows near the ceiling. "Out." With a twist and a grunt of effort, the table flew through the air – and through the glass. Buffy turned back to Jack and pointed at the now open window. "Out."
Faith was the first to respond to Willow's despondent question. "Fuck, Red, B could be a hundred different places." She held up one hand and started ticking a few of them off. "The Pump, the library, the Grotto, X-Man's…"
"Thank you, honey," Mrs. Summers interrupted. "We all know she might be at those places. However, if she were, I believe she would have answered her cell phone."
"Right. Sorry." Faith's leg wiggled under Willow. "You're thinking we need to go out and look, ain't you?" She set Willow on her feet and hopped up. "Then let's stop talkin' and start doin'."
Tara watched the three women grab purses, wallets, and… Her eyes went wide as Faith stuffed the dagger she'd been sharpening into a sheath built into the waistband of her pants. "D-do you really thi-think you'll need th-that?" She pointed at the weapon.
There was another series of looks exchanged between Faith, Willow, and Mrs. Summers before Willow offered a hesitant, "I did say Sunnydale wasn't safe, remember?"
Yes, Tara remembered. However, it was still daylight outside and there were four of them. It didn't make sense.
"Look, T, let it go. If you still want answers later, I'll give 'em to you." Faith rocked on her heels and met Tara's eyes. "We got other things to worry about right now."
Flushing at the comment, Tara slowly climbed off the couch. "B-Buffy might b-be in trouble," she said. "I underst-stand." Even with her shields pulled up, Tara sensed the anxiety in the room. This wasn't a joke to them.
Tara could almost see her mother's impatient and very worried look, urging her to stop hiding and help her new friends.
"I mi-might be able to h-help you find her." The words slipped out before Tara was really ready for them.
The three women already heading for the door froze. "Honey?" Mrs. Summers turned to give her a questioning look. "Do you know where Buffy is?" The unspoken, "And why didn't you say something before now?" rang in Tara's head.
"No!" she protested quickly. "B-but I'm a wi-witch. I kn-know a spell that helps f-find th-things. If I c-cast it, it might le-lead us right to her." At least, Tara hoped it would. She'd never actually used the spell to find a person – only a lost locket and her pet cat.
Her statement galvanized the other women. They returned to the living room and gathered around Tara. "Really?" Willow was the first to say anything. "You can do a spell like that? Can you show me how? It would come in handy for, you know, when we lose or need to find…uh…stuff," she continued excitedly.
Faith gently put a hand over Willow's mouth. "Sorry, T, Mrs. S. She gets carried away, like I said before. You need anything for the spell? Red's got some magical crap in the bedroom."
"A…a few things. Salt, a kn-knife. Um…some-something of B-Buffy's, too, if you h-have it." It wasn't absolutely necessary; however, now that she'd made the offer to help, Tara wanted to make sure it worked.
"No big. B left some clothes here the last time she stopped by." Faith gave Willow a sheepish grin. "I kinda ran into somethin' meaner than me and B used her shirt to stop the bleeding." She actually flinched away from Willow's laser-like glare. "Anyway, it's stashed in the back of the closet. Ain't got around to washing it yet."
Mumbling escaped from under the hand Faith still had pressed over Willow's mouth. The mumbles turned into words when Willow stepped away. "Stop your bleeding? We are so going to talk after this, Faith." She stomped down the hallway with Faith staring forlornly after her.
Although she was secretly amused by the exchange, Tara stuck to business. "Faith, w-we need to m-move the couch, too, so I c-can cast the Cir-Circle." It was far too late to back out now.
Giving one last glance at the now-empty hallway, Faith dragged the heavy couch out of the way as if it weighed nothing – and then moved the end tables and lamps for good measure. "That enough room for you, T?" She waved a hand at the empty space in the middle of the room. "If it ain't, I can just take everything into the hall."
"Th-that's fine, Faith," Tara told her softly. She walked into the clear area and paced off the Circle. As she stood staring at the carpet, Tara ran the words of the spell through her mind. It was a simple spell. She could do it…even with an audience.
When Willow hurried back in with the supplies clutched in her hands, Tara was almost convinced of her own ability.
Taking the box of salt and the steak knife wrapped in a bloodstained silk blouse from Willow, Tara glanced at all three women. She didn't know how much any of them knew about magic so she stuck to the very basics. "Once I ca-cast the Circle, you can't cr-cross it. No m-matter what."
Faith started to object until Mrs. Summers raised a warning hand. "We won't, honey. I promise." Tara saw her lips thin in resolution. "What else should we do… or not do?"
"Th-that's really all." Tara tilted her head. No. It wasn't. "And, w-well, the spell uses f-fairies to search for the ob-object. Bu-Buffy. Th-they c-can get car-carried away, and they m-move really fast." She remembered barely keeping up with the tiny blue lights the last time she'd cast this spell. "Wh-when you see the blue lights, b-be ready to go." The advice was as much for herself as for the others. Taking the Circle down quickly had never been easy.
Three heads nodded in agreement before Willow, Faith, and Mrs. Summers all moved back a few steps. Their avid interest in the spell made Tara twitch. Goddess, what had she been thinking? She had enough trouble talking without stuttering.
Blocking that thought as best she could, Tara set the shirt and knife on the floor and opened the box of salt. She backed slowly in a mostly circular shape, pouring the salt as she intoned softly, "Goddess Diana, grant that this Circle remain hallowed ground. Aid us in our search for our lost companion. Ward this space against those who would do us harm." As she spoke the final word, Tara finished the salt circle. Silvery waves of light sprang from the floor and grew in height until they reached the ceiling. Cut off from her audience, Tara took a moment to use an internal mantra to regain her calm.
Finally, Tara knew she was as ready as she would ever be. Now she retrieved Buffy's blouse and the knife. Holding one item in each hand, she lifted them to shoulder level. "Aradia, Goddess of the Lost, the path is murky; the woods are dense, and darkness pervades. I beseech thee - bring the Light!"
Tara reached across her body and nicked her wrist with the knife. Blood dripped from the shallow cut, staining the edge of the blouse she clutched. "I beseech thee – bring the Light!" she repeated.
A gasp from one of the trio behind her (and the sudden drain on her energies) let Tara know the spell had been a success. She slashed her right hand in a short, sharp downward arc. "Begone!" Tara commanded the magical barrier around her. It wasn't the recommended way to take down the Circle, but it would have to do. She kept a close eye on the magic as it grounded and dissipated safely.
"T, we ready? Them lights is already down the street," Faith called out.
"R-ready." Tara had to sprint to keep up with the rest of the searchers as they rushed outside. They didn't follow the fairies down the sidewalk the way Tara expected, and she nearly asked why – until Mrs. Summers unlocked the door to a Jeep sitting in the nearby parking lot.
In minutes, the older woman zipped down the street with the twinkling green lights less than a block ahead. "Hang on, girls!" The Jeep weaved around a slower-moving car and took an abrupt right as the fairies changed directions.
"Fuck me!" Faith grabbed the roll bar and stood up. "Mrs. S, step on it."
"Did you see Buffy?" Mrs. Summers asked over the squeal of the tires as the Jeep surged forward.
"No." Faith's right hand pointed to something in the sky. "But I bet I know where to find her." Black smoke rose in a cloud from a nearby building. "Where there's fire, there's B."