[A/N: I’m moving forward, that’s all I’m gonna say; because like I said in an earlier note, I have no idea how many chapters I have left. Not too many more, but one can never tell with me. And I’ve got another story to write after this one. Well, at least another one. Title (this time from a Van Morrison song title) and quotes are as attributed. Disclaimers in full force and effect.]

Previously: Buffy has a choice to make; Spike and Lawson are getting Connor back; everyone else is recuperating. This picks up where we left everyone.

Book Two. Chapter Seventy. Into the Mystic

The road now leads onward
As far as can be
Winding lanes
And hedgerows in threes
By purple mountains
And round every bend
All roads lead to you
There is no journey’s end.

Here is my heart and I give it to you
Take me with you across this land
These are my dreams, so simple and few
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands

Deep in the winter
Amidst falling snow
High in the air
Where the bells they all toll
And now all around me
I feel you still here
Such is the journey
No mystery to fear.

Here is my heart and I give it to you
Take me with you across this land
These are my dreams, so simple and few
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands

The road now leads onward
And I know not where
I feel in my heart
That you will be there
Whenever a storm comes
Whatever our fears
The journey goes on
As your love ever nears

Here is my heart and I give it to you
Take me with you across this land
These are my dreams, so simple and few
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands
Loreena McKennitt, Never-ending Road (Amhram duit), from An Ancient Muse




They had been walking for what Spike guestimated at two hours when the hounds began a series of soft barking yips. Spike put out a restraining hand, stopping Lawson in his tracks. “Hang on a mo’.”

Lawson waited, his eyes trained on the two hounds, who were now circling each other, barking louder. At the same instant, the dogs sat back on their heels, the yips subsiding into soft throaty growls. The slight breeze died down and Spike got a strange scent, drawing his attention to their left. He turned, coming face to fact with a blinding, pulsing bluish light. Shielding his eyes, Spike took an involuntary step back, his reflexive retreat from any bright light coming into play.

A lilting, melodic voice sounded from the light and it took Spike a moment to actually comprehend the words. It had been a very long time since he’d heard Scots Gaelic being spoken. “She’s a very lucky girl.”

He replied in English. “Wha’s that supposed to mean?”

A form started emerging from the light, and judging by the voice it was female. “It means exactly what I said. You are an uncommonly handsome man, William.”

The light flared again, causing both vampires to flinch and cover their faces, then died, lowering to a soft glow. Protective tears flooded their eyes. Coalescing into a shadowy figure, the light collapsed in on itself.

Both vampires blinked, gaping at the woman suddenly standing in front of them. She was tall, clothed in a midnight blue cloak. Embroidered with silver and lighter blue threads, the cloak was hooded, the edges lined with silvery white fur obscuring her face. Her dress was a pearly peacock green, visible every time she moved. “Greetings, gentle sirs. Welcome to Srath na siorruidh.”

Spike was frantically trying to remember his Celtic mythology. Before he could dredge up a memory, the woman waved a hand, dismissing his thoughts. “Why’re we here? This where the nipper is?”

“He is and he is not. In order to leave with him, three tasks you must fulfill.” She removed the hood, revealing her features to them for the first time. She was beautiful, long blond hair framing patrician features and vivid blue eyes. “The boy cannot return home unless you meet each challenge.”

“What the bloody hell? Wha’s all this about?” Spike wasn’t going to be lured into some slick game fashioned by Gods or Goddesses or Powers That Be because they wanted to tease and torment them before merely handing over the boy.

“It is not because you are unworthy.” She stepped closer, a brief smile playing about her lips before it was replaced with a grimmer expression. “The ruler over these lands requires payment for any being’s traverse. All we can do is aid your quest.”

Giving her a small snort of disbelief, Spike barked out, “Fine. Spill, it, your ladyship, so’s we can get on with it.”

“Very well. I’ve come to give you warning of what lies ahead.” She paused, waiting for a reaction. When no visible one was forthcoming, she continued. “Three challenges you will face. The first is Ynys Gwydr, where all is brought clear. A bridge between challenges you shall have to cross, and respite waits on the trail. Reach Caer Eryres for the second challenge; follow your feet to the next bridge. Lastly of all is the Ruithil na Claidheamh, where you must prove your prowess.”

Spike stared at her for long moments, his brain running through the translations sluggishly. It had been many long years since he’d heard the language spoken, and even then it was through the veil of childhood. His mother didn’t speak it well, only his grandfather had. And his grandfather had been dead since 1862. He seriously doubted Lawson knew the words, so it was for him to remember.

“Why are you helping us?”

“Because it is what she would want.”

The answer surprised him a little, because it was the first time his demeanor changed. His pose altered, swaggering a bit, and he stared at her, his eyes almost as fierce as hers. “She?”

“Your Slayer.” A slight smile played about her lips and she moved closer to him. “Though she did not ask our intervention, we give it freely. What was done was unplanned, the witch’s reach exceeded all expectations.”

“You’ve seen Buffy?” He couldn’t mask his concern and didn’t even bother to try. “Is she near?”

The woman was shaking her head negatively. “You cannot reach her from here. It is not yet time. She must face her own challenge now.”

“Jus’ tell me if she’s alright. Can you give me that much?” He hated how his voice betrayed him, but Spike would be willing to do a lot more than simply ask for word of Buffy.

“I can. She was well when I left her.” Opening her cloak, the woman drew out a sword, offering the hilt to Spike. “You will need this.”

He looked at it skeptically for a moment, before hefting it and testing the balance. “Lemme guess, this belonged to a great hero, an’ I should use it carefully, right?” He made a cut with it, hearing the whistle of the air rush past. “Wasn’t Grendel’s or Arthur’s now, was it?”

A low melodic laugh emitted from her and she shook her head. “Nay, none quite so grand, but it was wielded by a hero.”

“An’ you’re trustin’ me with it?” Spike glanced at her, a clear question in his eyes.

“With that and more. Demon blood makes you more, not less.” She opened her hand, revealing a leather pouch and a silver flask. “You will need these also.”

“More?” He was astounded by her open generosity.

“You shall have need of these before the end is near.” She laid the items in his hands, then brushed her fingers down his cheek. “You are uncommon, whether man or demon. Do not forget so.”

“Thanks, your grace.” His address made her smile and she inclined her head toward him, and then smiled at Lawson also.

“Time is upon you, William.” She squeezed his hand and pointed them to the path winding over a hill they hadn’t seen before. “Follow this path.”

“Fare thee well.”

The bluish light flared once more and then in a blink, she was gone.

Sharing a look, the two vampires set off, Spike setting the sword on his shoulder.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Giles herded the group inside, an eye warily on the rift behind him. He didn’t think they needed to stand guard, though he was certainly going to keep checking on it. His leg was beginning to throb, his exertions opening up Drusilla’s bite. Trying hard to keep the limp from Anya, Giles put his hand on the middle of her back, propelling her forward.

Despite her broken ribs, Wesley had carefully lifted Dawn into his arms. She half-heartedly protested, though she was secretly relieved. Nesting her head against his shoulder, Dawn finally gave in to the tears she’d been fighting all day. Safe in his arms, she was able to relax and let her guard down. Everything hit her, the sustained adrenaline rush collapsing in on itself.

Her family, Buffy and Spike were gone, hopefully not for good; but they were gone nonetheless. It was something she wasn’t willing to discuss, not even with Wesley. They were coming back, both of them. And Spike was coming home with Connor. She wasn’t going to think about the alternative.

By unspoken consensus, Giles and Wesley herded the girls into the living room. After rousting Xander none-too gently from the couch, Wesley laid Dawn down carefully, tucking a throw blanket over her. Tara slumped down on the floor, her head resting against the couch, while Giles eased into the big armchair. Every one of them studiously avoided looking at the playpen set up next to the Christmas tree, though they were all more than aware of its current state of emptiness.

Anya, along with Wesley, moved about quietly, making sure the others were comfortable. Blankets and pillows were brought down from bedrooms, and Anya set out cheese and crackers, although no one even nibbled.

Once Giles sat down, he stretched out his legs, easing his tired body into a more relaxed position. His uncharacteristic groan of pain brought it all home for Wesley, who turned toward him, yet didn’t actually look at him.

“Rupert . . . do you realize?” Wesley’s voice trailed off, and Giles grunted at first, then broke the silence.

“Still hasn’t sunk in. Can’t quite wrap my head around what’s happened.” He grunted again as Anya slid one of the dining room chairs under his injured leg. Sparing her a glance, he muttered, “Thank you, my dear,” And continued on to say, “Not quite sure it’ll sink in until everyone’s back.”

Wesley shook his head in agreement. Surprisingly none of them had suffered a major injury. The worst was Tara’s shoulder. It was beyond his imaginings that they’d actually escaped almost unscathed.

It was nothing short of a miracle.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“I don’t fuckin’ believe this shite.”

Spike halted, drawing Lawson’s attention. He’d been running through the woman’s words, trying to translate the place names she’d given and he exploded in exasperated anger when they reached the shores of a lake. Along the horizon was a small island, sparkling brighter than the lake itself.

“Bloody cryptic woman.”

“What?”

“Ynys Gwydr means glass island.”

Lawson half turned toward him, an obvious question in his eyes. “What exactly does that mean?”

“Not sure myself. But I do know we have to get across to that island.” Spike shook his head, looking around for a way to get across the lake.

“You mean like that?” Lawson pointed his hand over Spike’s shoulder, directing his attention to something resting at the shoreline. A roundish small boat. “I guess we’re supposed to use that.”

Spike turned to look over his shoulder, groaning. “Bloody hell.”

Whirling on his heel, Spike strode over to the boat, grumbling the whole time. Dumping the backpack, sword and duster in, he motioned for Lawson to do the same. The instant Spike pushed the boat into floating depth, he jumped in, and the hounds took off, barking loudly, into the water.

Within minutes, they were more than halfway to the island and it was becoming clear there was something odd about the place they were heading toward.

Neither man spoke, instead focusing their thoughts on the words spoken earlier. Unfortunately, none of the warnings were clear and Lawson had even less insight into the places than Spike did. Spike was beginning to think the warnings were going to prove less than helpful, anyway.

The woman, whoever she was, had meant to be of assistance, but perhaps she’d been unable to be as clear as she would’ve liked. Or perhaps he’d not asked the right questions. Too late to go back now. Only thing to do was go forward.

As they neared the island, Spike finally understood why she’d called the place “glass island”. Rocky quartz crystals formed the beach, while larger crystal formations loomed just beyond the first beachfront, and he detected no signs of vegetation.

“Doesn’t look very hospitable.” Lawson’s voice broke into Spike’s musings.

“No, so it’s a good thing we don’t need any of that. Though I am happy the sprog’s not here.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” The boat bumped against dry land, and both men jumped easily into the lapping water.

“Do like the chit said. Find the bridge an’ follow the path.”

Sam nodded, shouldering his pack. “Shouldn’t be so hard, chief.”

“I’ve a feeling might not be so easy-like.”

The dogs headed off after shaking the water from their fur, not waiting for the men to follow suit. Sharing a look, the two vampires did just that.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Xander sat dazedly listening to Giles and Wesley talk, trying to wrap his head around everything that had transpired. The two older men had progressed from their original subject and were now discussing their thoughts about Willow. Both were trying to be discrete, aware of Tara’s presence, but their collective need to analyze and chronicle kept overtaking their good sense.

At first Xander couldn’t follow their discussion, his head still ringing from the concussion and his broken nose throbbing in counterpoint. The words though, began sinking in, and he grew more and more upset with both of them until finally, his outrage got the better of him.

“No! Willow wouldn’t hurt anyone. She’s not responsible for any of this.”

Wesley looked over from his position by the Christmas tree where he sat, turning over one of Connor’s toys in his hands. “I wish that were true, Xander. Sadly, it is not.”

“How can you say that? Willow as only doing what she thought was right, saving Buffy from a hell dimension.” Xander struggled to his feet, agitation written largely in every movement.

“Perhaps in that she might have had the best of intentions, I’ll grant you. But,” Giles removed his glasses to peer intently at the younger man, “She quickly learned otherwise. And instead of attempting to make amends, Willow chose to compound her errors.”

“She had nothing to do with the loss of Angel’s soul. However, the spell she wove allowed all of us to forget he was about. Willow put Dawn in danger. As it was, Dawn’s boyfriend lost his life and she very nearly died.” Wesley got to his feet also, his own temper rising. “Willow knew what she was doing then, knew the dangers and ignored them.”

“Not exactly the mark of someone who is mindful of others.” Giles leaned forward, attempting to help Xander understand.

“She wasn’t thinking straight, that’s all. Everyone abandoned her, cut her off and ignored her.” Xander crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall for balance.

Giles was shaking his head in disagreement. “Had Willow shown the least bit of regret or remorse for her actions, no doubt given time she would have been forgiven.”

Xander was about to speak, when Tara’s soft voice cut him off. “She n-never apologized for anything, Xander. A-and. . . “ Stress and fatigue made it harder to control her stutter, though for once, she didn’t duck her head in embarrassment. “And anytime things went wrong in her opinion, s. . . she used ma. . magic to fix it.”

Tara had slow tears sliding down her cheeks and Wesley leaned down to grasp her hand in silent support. “Willow’s changed, Xander, from the girl you used to know and the one I fell in love with. She’s done some pretty unforgivable things.”

Xander exploded with anger. “Unforgivable?! Spike tried to kill us all and he’s been forgiven! What’s okay with that?”

Giles sighed, knowing this was a losing battle. “Spike is a different matter altogether, Xander, and you cannot compare his actions to Willow’s.”

Wesley chuckled humorlessly. “Spike may not have apologized and he may not ever. It’s his actions that make amends. It is one thing to say ‘sorry’ and quite another to actually mean it.”

“What the hell makes you think he means it? He’s only been doing this so he can be close to Buffy and the second she kicks him to the curb or that chip goes wonky, he’s gonna turn on her.”

Anya’s strident voice interrupted his rant, and her tones were no less belligerent than his. “He can’t turn on her, Xander Harris. I’ve told you this before, but you didn’t listen then. Maybe you’ll listen now.” She stood before him, her hands on her hips, a pursed look on her features. “You don’t listen to me Xander, and I’m really tired of it. Spike cannot hurt Buffy.”

“Ahn, you’re wrong. Spike isn’t a good guy and he’s going to hurt her sooner or later.” Xander swung around to face her and she took a step back away from him.

“No, Xander, it’s you that’s wrong. Spike and Buffy are mated. They can’t hurt each other, even if they wanted to. If something happened between them and they fought, they would still be bound together. Don’t you get it? That bond is unbreakable. It’s forever.” She was shaking her head, hurt and anger swirling in her eyes.

Xander reached for her, but Anya flinched away, stepping closer to the kitchen. “How can it be forever? She’s going to die someday and he’ll be out there, hunting and killing people all over again. He’s a killer. There’s nothing else he is.”

“He’s not going to do that. He won’t. Spike wouldn’t hurt any of us, not anymore. And if something happened to Buffy, he’d still have the baby to worry about, even if he survived her death.”

“Baby? What baby?!”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Spike’s and Buffy’s baby.”

“What!?” He whirled around, eyes wild and crazed looking from one of them to the other. “He can’t. She wouldn’t. That’s disgusting. He’s a demon and that’s. . . . “ His voice spluttered off into nothing and his gaze swung from one to the other, hoping for a different answer. When none was forthcoming, Xander spun around, muttering under his breath. “Disgusting. Demon spawn. How could she? Why would she?”

Anya stood staring at him, hurt filling her features. “I was once a demon. Am I disgusting too?”

He couldn’t answer her, his mouth opening and closing without any sound emerging. When he stood there for longer than a minute, Anya turned away, saying in a broken voice, “Maybe you should leave, Xander.”

There was nothing, until the sound of the front door slamming shut broke the heavy silence.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Faith struggled against the bonds holding her, bucking her hips wildly, almost growling her resistance. “Lemme go you crazy bastard.”

He answered her with a chuckle, his dark eyes twinkling with mirth. “Not really sure I’m gonna do that. You’re looking pretty edible right now.”

To punctuate his statement, Jenner nipped playfully at her hipbone, pulling at her flesh, sucking at it until a small purple rose bloomed on her skin. Faith writhed again, pulling hard on her bonds.

“C’mon, lemme go, please?” Though her words were pleading, her tone was anything but. Shrill, strident and highly aggravated, Faith just oozed anger.

Jenner looked up at her under his heavy brows, shaking his head negatively. “Nah, don’t really think that’s gonna happen.”

A roped was looped around Faith’s wrists, tying them together and the loose end was tied around the headboard. Her ankles were secured to the legs of the bed. Jenner ran a deceptively gentle hand from her wrists to her ankles, tweaking and pinching along the way.

She kept up a litany of curses, her voice low and husky. Faith lifted her head, dark eyes blazing. Jenner was biting at her belly, little nipping kisses designed to arouse. Once more she growled at him. “I’m so gonna hurt you when I get outta this.”

Jenner merely laughed out loud, almost idly remarking. “Might take a while.”

“Don’t care.”

He bit her again, this time after he’d changed into game face, sliding his fangs easily into the flesh just to the left of her bare pussy.

“Ow!” She bucked up, throwing him off her. “You fucking bastard, what the fuck!”

He let her blood trickle down his chin, not bothering to wipe it away. “Aw, honey, I thought you’d enjoy this.”

“I’m so gonna hurt you.” The ropes holding her hands gave a bit, the headboard creaking as Faith struggled to free herself.

He was grinning at her, wiping the blood away with his thumb. Jenner sucked on it idly before remarking, “I bet you’ll make it hurt so good.”

“Untie me.”

“Don’t think so. I’m having way too much fun.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not gonna last long, so don’t get all happy on me.” This time there was a loud creak in the wood.

“We’d have to get a lot dirtier to make me really happy.” He untied one leg, neatly flipping her over.

Faith shrieked with anger, burying her head into the pillow when Jenner slapped a meaty hand on her ass.

“Now this is fun.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The giant crystal beast heaved its arm-like appendage, knocking Spike cleanly off his feet. Practically flying backward, landing heavily in the largest pile of shredded crystals, Spike groaned audibly in pain.

Nothing was working, every blow from the sword clanged loudly then slid off, jarring his teeth and making his ears ring. Even the loose crystals Lawson kept firing at the behemoth did no damage. They were losing against a brainless, pulseless pile of shiny rocks. And that was pissing him off.

The teeth-rattling sound of crystals rubbing against each other sounded in his still veins, triggering a low rumbling growl of annoyance.

Enough of this shite. I’m bloody done playin’ bleedin’ games. Just need a mo’. . . . an’ a way to get this bugger.

Another direct hit on the head had the thing emitting an earthshaking roar, a great gaping maw of crystals splitting open on its head. Darker crystals winked and flashed, almost like eyes and Spike got a sudden burst of inspiration. So far, that area was the only vulnerable spot on the beast, and he’d be damned if he didn’t capitalize on it.

With an equally loud roar, Spike sprang to his feet, aiming the sword for the eyelike darker crystals. The sword penetrated a bit, then ground to a halt, and Spike’s momentum carried him up and over. As he was flying overhead, he pulled the sword free, then landed lightly on his feet. The beast roared again, deafening him, but Spike fought on, swinging the sword at the darker crystals. The maw opened again in rage, and thinking quickly, Spike jabbed his sword inside, jamming it into the opening.

Noise unlike anything he’d ever heard echoed through the air, loud and shrieking, something he felt all the way to his toes. All of them flinched, the dogs howling their pain and displeasure at the pitch of the sound. There was a crunching, groaning roll of thunderous sound, seemingly bouncing off the very air, then the creature exploded, scattering crystal dust and grains everywhere.

Heaving, panting for air, Spike wiped away blood, accidentally grinding small crystalline shards into the palm of his hand. He couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t sense anything either, until Lawson clapped him on the shoulder. Jumping slightly, Spike turned to face him. Sam was pointing out something over his shoulder, something that hadn’t been there before he destroyed the crystal beast.

A bridge. Arcing out over the water, no wider than ten feet and the opposite end shrouded in misty sunlight.

Spike nodded once and wearily headed out, Lawson and the puppies leading the way.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Is this what I want? Staying here would be . . . I wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore. I was done the first time – after Glory. I could have that again. Be finished.

Buffy stared down at her hands, her mind racing with thought.

What would I give to be at peace?

Well, that’s the question now, isn’t it?

If I do this, the last couple of months are gone.

Unconsciously she fiddled with the silver ring circling the base of her middle finger.

If I stay . . . . .






I apologize for the long delay, but I've been working on something else, and if anyone's interested in checking it out, it's at my live journal, under the name tangwstyl (heh, I'm the only one there, go figure).
http://tangwstyl.livejournal.com/ or you can get there thru this portal http://www.bringonthebloodshed.com/niamh/main.htm