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Chapter 23
Bad Company
Erin the Vampire Slayer flowed through the complex sword form with a fluid grace at odds with the mask of cold, stony intensity etched into her classically beautiful features. The blade in her hands described arcs of silver fire in the air as the enchanted blade cleaved phantom targets effortlessly and precisely.Discipline. Focus. Dedication.
Those three words had been drilled into her daily from the moment she inherited the job of Slayer. And unlike the Buffies she knew in Pubspace, she’d willingly accepted the responsibility, embraced it even, but at the cost of almost everything else in her life — family ties, friendships, any hope for anything even remotely resembling a normal life. True, Xandra and Willow had remained by her side throughout, but they were both in their own way as much outcasts from the mainstream of life as she was.
Through it all, though, she persevered because she deeply believed that she made a positive difference in the world, that her actions helped save lives and even, from time to time, the world itself. That was before Flynn, before Pubspace, before GHOST and her damned Event Projections and probability analyses. Now she was here, on a backwater Earth orbiting on the fringes of statistical significance, and nothing she did, no Outcome Projection she tried, no hypothetical Event Chain she ran through the equations, no Hail Mary pass into the end zone of statistical modeling, seemed to change the one central fact that she would fail here, and her failure would doom an entire world.
And in the end, what would it matter anyway, she wondered? Of what significance was the loss of one Slayer, one world even, against the multitude of parallel incarnations of both? A drop in the bucket. Was that what her whole life had been? Her whole calling? All the loss and risk and nights of terror and loneliness? Did it all amount to no more than a single drop in an infinite ocean?
Erin finished her sword form and let the blade fall to her side. Then she sat down, her back against the gym wall, and wept quietly
* * *
“I think they’re headed away now,” said Xander.
Buffy nodded and slowed the Desert Patrol Vehicle to a halt. Angel followed suit and pulled alongside her.
“Looks like they’ve given up,” said Buffy, watching as the giant creatures drifted off in search of something else to consume. Arcs of cobalt blue magical energy occasionally flashed around their tentacles and within their bulbous, translucent bodies.
“Anyone mind telling me what the hell those things were?” asked Xander.
“Ether Phages. I told you,” said Lillith.
“Right,” said Xander. “That’s a great name. I’ll remember it if I ever decide to be Dungeon Master again. In the meantime, try being a little less obtuse and explain what the hell an ‘Ether Phage’ actually is.”
“They’re parasites. They feed on psychokinetic energy. I haven’t seen one in a very long time. They’re First Ones,” said Lillith.
“Well, whatever they are, they’re behind us now,” said Buffy, turning from the receding school of Phages behind them to the massive stone city before them. “Time to pay attention to what’s ahead.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Dys, the second greatest city in Hell. I’d take you to the first, but Buffy sort of destroyed that one,” said Lillith grandly, spreading her arms to encompass the city of black stone that lay before them. She was standing in the passenger seat of Angel’s Desert Patrol vehicle.
They were a mile from the walled city of Dys, a dark and brooding metropolis set in a wasteland of white sand tinged red by the ruddy, indirect light that permeated the infernal plane.
“Spare us the tour guide speech,” said Angel.
“You need to develop a more positive attitude on existence, Angel,” said Lillith. “It’s easy, once you figure out that the universe is all just one big joke perpetrated by an insane deity.”
“Shh,” said Buffy, looking over at her husband and her soul sister. “I can feel Elisa. Can you feel the ether trail, Lillith?”
Lillith smirked. “Of course. Aftereffects of the enjoinment, remember? If you can feel it, I can too. She’s inside with Spike. I don’t think Cade’s anywhere, though. So let’s bring it on home, baby. This place is just not my style. Too … too … oh, what’s the phrase?”
“Too life-threatening?” suggested Xander.
Lillith looked back at the Chaos Storm making its seemingly inexorable progress toward the city. “You do have a point there. To wit, we’d best be finding Elisa and Spike and getting our butts into that Sanctuary, and soon. Lead on, Buffy. Through the main gates, and everyone keep those trigger fingers limbered up. No telling what we’re going to find inside.”
* * *
“Where are we going?” asked Cordelia for the third time as she and Willow rounded another corner in a seemingly endless series of tunnels.
“There’s a level four isolation chamber in here somewhere. If we can get to that, we should be safe. It’s completely self-supporting,” said Willow as she maintained a steady jog through the base.
“Will you please slow down?” pleaded Cordelia, slowing to a halt.
Willow stopped and looked back to see the vampiress with her back against the wall, hands on her hips, breathing hard.
“I thought you vampires had superior stamina and constitution, Cordy. You think maybe it’s time to go with the low-fat, low-cholesterol blood?” she asked.
Cordelia’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, excuse me Miss Nanotech. Some of us don’t have an army of weird mechanical bugs inside us making us into the Six Million Dollar Woman. For someone who’s been dead for eighty five years, I think I’m doing okay.”
The sound of wrenching metal and a crash in the distance effectively brought the argument to a halt.
“We run now. Argue later,” said Willow.
Cordelia nodded as she glanced back in the direction of the noise. “Yeah, I’m definitely seeing the light on the running thing.”
* * *
The Desert Patrol Vehicles purred through the specially baffled mufflers they used for quiet running. The muted exhaust note soughed and burbled in echoic waves from the stone walls and building that lined the streets of Dys. The streets were unnervingly quiet and empty, but there were signs that the inhabitants had gone neither willingly nor easily.
Occasional corpses of various demonic creatures provided obstacles here and there along Dys’ thoroughfares, and more than one building had been damaged by something — by Ether Phages, Chaos Storms, or one of the other creatures Lillith mentioned now and then, Buffy imagined. But there was no way to tell. All that Buffy knew was that nothing alive or undead seemed to populate Hell’s second largest metropolis anymore.
So she could more easily communicate with Lillith during their search for Elisa and Spike, the Elder Powder had switched places with Xander, so now Angel and Xander somewhat broodingly shared the second buggy. Lillith appeared to find the entire notion of throwing the two men together to be a great deal of fun. Buffy definitely did not.
“Oh relax, Buffy. They’re grown boys. They’re quite capable of being civil to each another on a temporary basis.”
“I’m not sure I want to bank on that,” said Buffy. “Civility hasn’t exactly been the defining characteristic of their relationship over the years. Too bad, really. They might seem worlds apart, but they’ve always had a heck of a lot more in common than they think.”
“They aren’t enemies in every universe, you know,” said Lillith. “Sometimes they’re even close friends, if you can believe that. It almost always all depends on how the other interpersonal relationships fall out. You guys just happened to hit on one of the most volatile combinations, statistically speaking. The Buffy/Angel pairing combined with the Xander/Cordelia/Willow/Oz quadrilateral is always inherently unstable. And it gets really bad when Faith gets into the mix too.”
“What’s Faith got to do with it?”
“Nothing, at least not in your Reality. Be grateful for it. That poor girl usually ends up in big trouble, and causes just as much as she gets. Now, Kendra, on the other hand …”
“Lillith, could we please put the ‘Melrose Place’ stuff on hold for now? I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Turn right at the next cross street,” Lillith said casually.
“You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. You’ll find them about a hundred yards that way somewhere,” said the Elder Power, pointing vaguely off in the indicated direction.
“Human or not, you’re still one of the more annoying people I’ve ever met,” said Buffy.
Lillith flashed a smile at her. “I try.”
“You succeed admirably.”
“Anybody ever tell you you’re a real bitch?”
“Only the people who really get to know me,” said Buffy as she made a turn onto a broad avenue and pointed the Desert Patrol Vehicle toward a towering spire at the end.
At the base of the tower, seated on the broad marble entrance steps, were Spike and her daughter. Spike was casually smoking a cigarette, his gun drawn and resting on his lap.
“Nice to see you, cutie,” he said as the two Patrol Vehicles slowed to a halt several yards from them. “I do believe I have someone here you’ve been waiting to see for awhile.”
Elisa rose.
The two women gazed at each other across a lifetime’s gap of time and experience, and yet Buffy felt the connection with this girl who looked so much like her, felt it on a level so fundamental that it transcended the years and the distance.
“Mom?” asked Elisa tentatively, starting toward her.
Buffy swung out of the vehicle and with a mix of fear and joy moved toward her daughter. Angel hung back with a look of immense relief on his face, apparently not willing to interfere in Buffy’s reunion.
The two women stopped within feet of each other, neither one certain about what the next move was, about how to connect across the gulf that had separated them so long ago. Then something wordless and profound passed between them and all the doubts and hesitancies were swept aside in an instant as mother and daughter embraced.
“I’ve missed you so much,” said Buffy softly.
“Me, too. Me, too,” said Elisa.
Buffy looked past her toward Spike. “He didn’t … I mean …”
“What, hurt me? Spike?” asked Elisa. “Nah, he’s a big old pussycat once you get past the bad boy riff.”
“He’s dangerous.”
Elisa laughed. “Oh, this is great. Twenty seconds into the mother/daughter reunion, I’m already getting the dating lecture.”
Oh my God, thought Buffy. I’ve become my mother.
Lillith emerged from the Patrol Vehicle and interrupted them. “Sorry to be my usual pain in the ass self, but we’d best break this up for now and hunt up some shelter. It’s not exactly Mayberry out here.”
Elisa looked back and forth between her mother and Lillith in disbelief.
“’Lise, this is Lillith, who your father probably told you about. As you can see, she’s doing her Buffy Summers impression again,” said Buffy.
“You … you’re an … ‘Elder Power’, is that the term?” asked Elisa.
“More or less. Less at the moment, I think,” said Lillith. “Which is why I’m really not eager to be out here when the Phages or various and sundry other First One nasties come out to play.”
“This is all just too weird,” said Elisa.
“Welcome to my life,” said Buffy.
* * *
“And just how long are we supposed to sit here? We’ve already missed two scheduled openings on the wormhole,” said Cordelia.
Willow frowned at her from across the isolation chamber they’d retreated to. It was a sterile, self contained environment designed to isolate anyone who was possibly infected with an infectious agent like Ebola or Marburg or, in this case, something more exotic that the M-7s had no doubt been cooking up in their little conquest of Earth. In the context of the current crisis, its main benefit was that it was heavily reinforced and had its own oxygen supply. Cade’s people had even restocked it with rations and water, perhaps anticipating the possibility that contagious agents might be brought over from Hell.
“Thanks, Cordy. I wasn’t aware of that. It’s really great that I have you here to substitute for my watch.”
“In a snippy mood, are we?”
“I’m going to snip you a new one if you don’t stop acting like you,” said Willow.
“Fine, sit there on that bench and be mean. But could you be mean in between coming up with a way out of this mess? Doesn’t Cade have something in the armory we could use?”
“I’m sure he does, but the armory is a good two hundred yards from here. Other than my stun gun, we don’t have weapons. What kind of chance do you think we’re going to have?”
“And what kind of chance do you think Buffy’s going to have if we leave her stranded in Hell, huh?” asked Cordy.
Something in the tone of her voice caught Willow by surprise. There was genuine feeling there, real concern.
“You really care about her, don’t you?”
Cordelia nodded. “Buffy saved me, Willow. I was a monster and she made me a person inside again. I owe her the world for that even if that’s all she ever did for me. But it isn’t. You remember what it was like for you in high school, not being part of the popular cliques, always being on the outside of everything?”
“You’re not winning me over here, Cordy.”
Cordelia continued as if she hadn’t heard. “Well, imagine being an outcast for almost your entire life, being hated and despised and sometimes even hunted. Through all of that, Buffy stuck with me. She defended me, she helped me, she was my best and often my only friend. We didn’t always agree on things — heck, a lot of the time we fought like cats and dogs. But we always knew that we’d be there for each other when the chips were down. I have to be there for her this time, Willow. I just have to be.”
Willow found herself touched by the emotion in Cordelia’s voice, and Willow knew that she could have honestly said many of the same things about her friendship with Buffy Summers. Cordelia was right. She had to be there for Buffy. They both did.
Willow stood up and said, “C’mon. Let’s get to the armory and find something to kick these things’ asses.”
* * *
The darkly majestic, domed edifice that was Dys’ Cathedral Fortress brought back old memories of another city, another Cathedral Fortress, and of the loss of friends old and new in yet another battle against the forces of decay and destruction. Buffy felt those old sadnesses stir inside her soul. They never really left, just grew more distant with time, silent markers on the long twilight road that was her life and destiny.
She shook herself out of her bleak thoughts and glanced over at Angel and Elisa. The past was the past. The future had yet to be written — after all, if it was all in flux all the time then it wasn’t immutable and preordained. She could change things, make the future a brighter place for her and those she cared for most.
Ahead of her, Lillith pushed open one of the towering metal doors that led into the Cathedral. The giant portal swung silently into a darkness that carried within it a sense of vast antiquity and great space.
It was strangely cool inside as they entered into the domed central chamber. Dim magical lights, some of them waning to near extinction, shed insufficient illumination on the scene, but it was enough for Buffy to make out the salient architectural details of the place. Massive stone supports rose from the polished obsidian floor like ribs to support the weight of the dome. Vaulted corridors led off from the perimeter into the impenetrable gloom of other parts of the Cathedral. Alcoves along the wall contained various relics, books, and pieces of statuary. Several stories above them, galleries ran along the perimeter of the amphitheater.
Her attention was diverted by Lillith, who was standing in the center of the chamber, turning full circle, her flashlight playing among the corridors and alcoves, but her mind seemingly elsewhere, probing something unseen.
The flashlight beam settled on a large, upright stone slab set into the wall.
“That’s it. The entrance to the Sanctuary,” stated Lillith confidently. Almost absently, the Elder Power conjured several balls of cold light and sent them to hover near the apex of the dome, banishing the gloom and bathing the amphitheater in magical light.
Buffy studied the door from distance. It was inscribed with a multitude of runes, and clustered around it were the crumbling remains of dozens of demons large and small, and on the slab itself were deep grooves and gouges where the creatures had clawed desperately for the safety, real or imagined, of the Sanctuary. She moved to the door and ran her hand over it, tracing along the runes etched in its surface. She closed her eyes and smiled as she felt the intricacies and power of the magical ward coursing through the enchanted stone. It had been a long time since she’d been able to feel magic like that. Magic was gone from her world, of course, and she’d never been perfectly in tune with it in the parallel universe. It was a nice feeling to have her old abilities back.
Finally, she opened her eyes and stepped back. “We’re not going to get through that any time soon.”
“You might be surprised,” said Lillith.
“You have a way through it?” asked Angel.
“I need a disjunction sledge,” said the Elder Power, looking around the room. “That might get us through.”
“Do I really need to ask the follow up question?” asked Buffy.
Lillith smirked. “A disjunction sledge is just a large piece of ferromagnetic metal that’s been enchanted in a particular way that aligns the magical lines of force impressed on it. What happens is that when you use it against a ward, those lines of force intersect, or cut, the lines of force used in the ward and disrupt them long enough for the sledge itself to damage the spell substrate, which in this case is the stone door. The theory is basic thaumaturgy, but the execution is tough. Magical force lines don’t like to be ordered at that level. I can do it. I just need a big piece of iron or steel. A long pipe or rod maybe.”
“How about an ether sink off one of the buildings?” asked Angel.
A smile lit Lillith’s face. “If you weren’t already married, I’d kiss you. Not that a little detail like that’s ever stopped me before.”
“I left my Elminster’s Glossary of Arcane Terms at home,” said Xander. “What’s an ether sink?”
“It’s like a lightning rod, but for conducting ether discharges instead of electricity. Any time you get cyclonic ether activity like you see in Chaos Storms, you can get arcs of magical energy. They can be very dangerous, so buildings are usually fitted with ether sinks to safely ground them.”
“Ah. I see. Or don’t, as the case may be,” said Xander.
“You’re cute when your befuddled, Xander,” said Lillith.
“I’m befuddled a lot, you know,” said Xander.
Lillith grinned and turned to Angel. “Well then, tall, dark and gorgeous. How about you and me scrounge up an ether sink off one of these buildings?”
When they were gone, Buffy turned to Elisa.
“Elisa, I think we really need to talk,” she said to the young woman.
“I think we’ve needed to talk for a very, very long time,” she answered.
Spike looked at Xander. “C’mon, mate. Let’s play tourist and see what this place is all about.”
As he followed Spike from the room, Xander said, “I brought my camera, you know. All the kids back home are going to be so jealous when I show them the pictures of what I did on my summer vacation.”
“Don’t go too far,” warned Buffy.
“We won’t, Mother,” said Spike.
When they were gone down one of the side passages, Buffy moved closer to her daughter and sat down beside her on a large stone plinth that had become separated from its pillar. She felt awkward, uncertain, as if she were asking someone on a date for the first time, or performing something difficult in front of a large audience. She suddenly felt very small and vulnerable.
“So,” she said.
“So,” echoed Elisa.
Buffy smiled self-consciously. “It’s not easy, is it?”
“Not really, no.”
“Elisa, it’s been seventy five years for me and fifteen for you, and there’s nothing I can ever say or do that can make up for the time I missed. I wish there were, but there isn’t.”
“But there was, Mom. Why did you come back now? If you could come back sixty years, why not seventy-five? Why didn’t you come back to me when I still needed you, damn it?” asked Elisa, a double edge of anger and bitterness in her voice.
“I wanted to. Desperately. But then someone told me something I’d never realized — that if I did that, I’d be killing you and creating another Elisa Summers in your place. I couldn’t do that, couldn’t take away everything you made of yourself, all the experiences and thoughts and hopes that make you uniquely yourself. That doesn’t mean that I could just let you die for a madman’s vision of absolute power, though. I had to change that part of the past. Does this make any sense to you?”
Elisa nodded slowly. “Unfortunately, yes. I want to be mad at you as much as I want to love you, but the thing is, I do understand. I’m happy with who I am, with my life, with the happy times I’ve shared with Dad. I wouldn’t want that to all go away, but I can’t help wondering what it would have been like to have you in my life growing up.”
“Neither can I, Elisa. I’ll always wonder, and it’ll always be the greatest regret of my life. But this was the only real choice, the only choice I could possibly live with.”
Elisa swallowed hard. “I know. I understand it in my head. It’s my heart that’s having problems with it. But I think that’ll change. It’s just going to take time. I don’t know you and you don’t know me, and we’ll need time to change that. I spent my whole life waiting for this. I’m certainly going to make the effort now that it’s come true.”
Buffy took her daughter’s hand in hers, and was glad she didn’t stiffen or pull away. “You’re a stronger woman than I was at your age.”
Elisa smiled wryly. “Somehow I really doubt that. I seem to remember that you were out killing demons at my age.”
“Maybe, but I was running from my own, too. They’re harder to face. I still hide from them more often than I should.”
“You’ve been my hero for so long,” said Elisa. “I’ve always dreamed about this, but I’ve never known what to expect. I mean, my mom, the Dark Slayer who defeated the Master at sixteen, who blew up the Judge, who defeated Lillith Prophet and the Avatar of the Elemental Abstract in single combat, who helped turn the tide in the M-7 war — half of me always thought that if you came back, you’d come striding in like Death riding a pale horse. But I can see already that’s not who you are. You’re a real flesh and blood person, and I like that. I like it a lot.”
Buffy smiled. “All too human, that’s me. No hero, that’s for sure.”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong. You are a hero. Don’t you realize what you represent to people, Mom? If a spoiled brat teenager from L.A. can take on responsibility for the whole world and win, then that means any of us has it inside us to be a hero, to make a difference. Like it or not, Mom, you’re a symbol to everyone who knew you, living proof of what we can be if we try, if we never give up, if we take responsibility for our lives and fight the good fight against the darkness all around us. You have no idea what your example meant to me growing up, what it’s meant to Willow and to Dad and to everyone else who fought with you. It even set Xander straight.”
“I don’t think I’m very comfortable with being a hero or a role model or anything else. Lord knows, I wouldn’t want anyone to follow my example. I haven’t exactly been an exemplar of nobility and integrity all the time,” said Buffy.
“I never expected you to be,” said Elisa.
Buffy playfully tousled her daughter’s hair. “How’d I ever get such a smart daughter, huh? Must’ve come from your father’s side.”
Elisa smiled. “I dunno. I think I got a pretty good set of genes from both sides. So, how ’bout you tell me a little bit about my mom?”