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Part 8
Faith and Tara picked their way through the branches that hung across a little travelled pathway to the far right of the huge garden that backed up to the house. Faith had already explored the garden from top to bottom, even when she knew that she was supposed to be indoors. But somehow, the fresh air here and the solitude had appealed. But, she looked back as Tara let out a gasp of indignation as a branch snagged at her long blue skirt, exploring was no fun unless it was with someone else. Especially, Faith grinned wickedly, someone who wasn't really dressed for exploring.
Faith herself was dressed as always, in dark pants and a cut-off dark top, covered by her old faithful denim jacket. She was always ready to go, always ready for anything that might be thrown at her. It was her way; to be prepared, to be ready, like a runner on her own personal starter blocks. All she needed was the pistol shot to alert her into action.
She looked back at Tara again, who was struggling with a twig that was holding on for dear life to her oversized cream sweater. Try as she might, Tara could not disentangle herself from the branches that were grabbing at her. Faith moved over and gently but firmly removed the offending branches from Tara's clothing. She received a grateful glance from the blonde witch in return, and turned away quickly so Tara couldn't see her embarrassed blush. It just wasn't Faith's way to be nice to someone like that, and expect no recompense. She felt stupid, and was sure she looked pretty dumb too. But Tara had that air about her, the Slayer couldn't quite pin it down, it was just the way the blonde was. You kinda wanted to help her or something. She shook her head as Tara passed by, dispelling the thought. Stupid.
The two girls emerged from the path into a small round clearing. It was a circular patch of grass that had been left to grow, and was ankle deep. Soft feather tip blades of grass brushed against Tara's bare ankles as she padded toward the centre of the circle where there was a stone seat. It was a simple structure, but carried with it weather beaten signs that showed its age. Standing in the middle of the circle, it was so simple, so pure, that Tara sensed the nature humming from it immediately. When she lowered herself onto the stone seat she looked up at Faith, her eyes glowing with pleasure.
"This is a beautiful spot Faith," she commented, noticing that the Slayer had been watching her carefully. Tara laid her hands in her lap, the drift of some unnamed flower's scent floating past her nose. She breathed in the air, filling her lungs with its clarity. From far away, there was the sound of birdsong in the summer air; but here in the glade nothing stirred. Not even the summer breeze could penetrate the peace inside the circle. Tara looked again at the Slayer and nodded, "Really beautiful."
"You think?" Faith shrugged out of habit, unwilling to commit herself to anything that might suggest she could find nature a thing of beauty. Sometimes her pride let her down like that, and chide herself inwardly as she might, she could never bring herself to relax completely.
"I do. Why, don't you?" Tara's eyes turned on her now, probing and curious. She was still cautious around Faith, but her nature was getting the better of her. Something was bugging this girl, she was sure of it. Sometimes, Willow had once told her, it was better to be direct about some things. If you wanted to find something out, just ask. Looking at the statements fleeting across Faith's face right now, Tara decided that maybe today wasn't the time.
Faith shoved her hands into her pockets and looked down at the ground, kicking at an invisible piece of turf with the steel toecap of her boot. What was it about this girl that made her want to spill everything? She raised her shoulders to shrug again, then realised what she was doing and instead flicked her hair back with an easy motion of the neck.
"It's okay I guess," she admitted slowly, "I kind of stumbled on it one day when I was out walking. The old guy, Myrddin, suggested I do a lot of walking. Said it was good for my rage." She pulled a hand out of her pocket and waved it in the air in a gesture that was more dismissive than offensive.
Tara watched as the Slayer turned to survey the high trees around the glade, her gaze skimming their tops, waving gently in the wind. The blonde witch leant back slightly, feeling the cool, uneven surface of the stone press against her hands as she placed them flat on either side of her body.
"And does it?" she asked quietly, her voice carrying in the stillness of the place. Faith swung around to face her, a look of confusion in her eyes. "Does walking help the rage?" Tara further enquired.
"I guess." Faith moved towards the blonde and slumped down onto the grass in a fluidic motion, sitting cross-legged at her feet. She pulled up a blade of grass and turned it over in her fingers. "I mean, I've felt less like killin' people since I been here," she ended with a laugh that was hollow and yet loaded with meaning. Tara understood what she was alluding to; that first murder, and others that Faith had committed over two years ago. The dark haired girl was looking down at her hands like she still had blood on them. A frown was working its way across her brow as she bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. She jerked her head up to look at Tara. "D'you think it ever goes away?" she asked in the hushed tone of one in a confessional, "I mean," she drew in a deep breath, "will I ever be able to forget? Move on? Do something good?" Her deep brown eyes pleaded with Tara for absolution that the other girl just couldn't give.
Tara leant forward, resting her elbows on her knees so that her head was inches away from Faith's. "I don't know," she said simply. "Maybe if you try hard enough to forgive yourself first others might follow."
Faith stared at Tara for what seemed like a very long moment, letting her words sink in. Then she let out a low whistle and grinned. "Red's sure got her work cut out with you ain't she? I bet you don't let nothin' get by."
"What do you mean?" Tara smiled back, the corners of her eyes crinkling merrily.
"Just that you see a whole lot more of what goes on than you let on."
"Well I watch people." Tara sat back again, planting her hands firmly onto the seat once more. "My parents," her smile faded slightly, but enough for Faith to notice, "told me that to watch people is to learn who they are, what they can become. It's not always evident at first what's really going on in someone's head. But if you stick around and look at them properly, pretty soon you get to see what they're about."
"So can you see what I'm about then, oh wondrous mind reader?" Faith leant back on the grass, propping herself up on one elbow. She stuck the blade of grass into her mouth and chewed on it casually. She was enjoying this little introspective chat more than she thought she might.
"I know you're sorry for what you did. That you want to change. Otherwise you wouldn't still be here."
"Well I reckon that's wicked obvious." Faith snorted.
"No. I mean, really sorry. You regret hurting people; people you cared about. Maybe you still do." Tara spoke quietly, her tones almost complimenting the soothing air of the glade.
"Can't get attached to people in my line of work, Tara. Not the done thing. Somehow they always end up getting hurt…or…or killed." Faith swallowed hard, remembering her first Watcher with shame and regret. She took the piece of grass out of her mouth and flung it to one side. "Nope," she repeated, "Can't go around getting attached to people when you're a Slayer."
"Buffy does."
"Yeah? Well I'm not Buffy!" the words exploded from Faith's mouth as her shoulders hunched over at the mere mention of the blonde Slayer's name. "I wish to god I was, I mean, I wouldn't be here right now would I? None of this would have happened. Your girl wouldn't hate me the way she does…" she shook her head, her dark eyes snapping shut for a second, "Damn I wish I'd done this some other way, but no, the hard way or no way, that's how it's always been." She let out a sigh, "Guess you kinda get used to something so much that after a while it don't seem so unusual anymore huh?"
"You can always choose to change things though." Tara said, leaning her head back and closing her eyes against the blue-whiteness of the sky.
"You know, it's funny what you remember from being a kid. When most other kids were running around with new toys at Christmas, playin' outside and showin' off, I remember watching them, wishing I could be just like them." A sadness crept into Faith's tone as she recalled the painful memories that flickered like cinema images through her mind, "And every time I asked my mom why I couldn't have new shoes or new toys like the other kids, she always used to tell me, that's the way it is Faith. No use in tryin' to change what is fact. I guess that's how I feel about what I've done. No use trying to change what is fact," she repeated slowly. "Couldn't change my mom, not even when she was sober and awake. I'm just following her down that road to self destruct city."
Tara lifted her head and looked once more into the swirling brown depths of Faith's eyes, realising for the first time, what really lay beneath the swagger and bravado. Somewhere inside there was that little child still waiting for the new toy. The one she had never had, along with the love and care she had never had.
"See, when I met the mayor…he cared for me in a way. Sorta like the parent I never had." Faith said grimly. "I know he was evil an' all…but he looked after me, said I made him proud." She squinted up at Tara, "That sound kinda kooky to you?"
"Yes. No. Yes and no." Tara said, smiling. "I guess the need to belong is what we want most. I know I do," she shrugged almost apologetically.
"Well hey, with Red for a girlfriend and you being a witch, not much chance of you not fitting right in Sunnydale then." Faith gave her that lopsided grin again.
"Well…" Tara began, then stopped. "Yeah, you're right," she beamed down at the Slayer. "Willow is wonderful and takes me to the Scooby meetings and I've got to know Buffy pretty well so…" she trailed off, noticing the flash of alarm that widened Faith's eyes. "What?" she prompted.
"Buffy." Faith said simply. "B. The best friend I never had." The way her voice caught on Buffy's name spoke volumes to Tara as she looked down at the girl in front of her. Just another girl, like her. Not a Slayer; no more a defender of the world and all things good than she was the chosen Wiccan. Just a girl. A girl who was hurting real bad about someone she cared for very deeply. An image of Willow flashed through Tara's mind and she wondered, half in horror, what would have become of her had she and Willow gone their separate ways. Being apart was something she barely gave time to, even if she was going to have to soon. When she was not with the redhead, she felt as though something was missing, the lack of the musical laughter at her side, or the brush of fingertips on her skin thrilling her the way it did, it all confirmed to her just how much she loved her girlfriend. And always would.
Looking at the dejected figure of the dark haired Slayer on the ground in front of her, Tara realised something she had never suspected, something never hinted at or alluded to by any of the other Scoobies. It was painted all over Faith's face now, as she sat staring at the ground, chewing at her bottom lip again. Faith was in love with Buffy. Faith loved Buffy. Still.
Sighing, Willow closed the huge book in front of her and stretched back on the bed where she had been perusing old copies of enchantments. Myrddin had suggested she catch up on some reading, so she had duly done what the teacher ordered. Tara had already known a vast quantity of the reading material, which Willow supposed was only natural. Tara was so talented, so knowledgeable that the redhead felt that a competition between the two of them was a farce in itself. Tara was the better witch. Tara knew more, was more comfortable reciting incantations; hell, she'd led spells between them more than once.
Willow leant back into the bed, feeling the lumpy, pliant mattress sink beneath her. She closed her eyes briefly and thought about the last couple of nights she'd spent without Tara by her side. All of this no sex thing was really starting to get to her. It wasn't that Tara didn't love her, she knew that…it was just that Tara seemed distant in a way. There were very few opportunities for them to be a couple here, there was always someone watching them, someone with them. Quality alone time was fast becoming an issue. Last night, when the two of them had been snuggling in Tara's room, a knock on the door and a polite reminder from one of the Council representatives had sent Willow skulking back to her room, a scowl planted on her face. It was almost as if the Council didn't want them to be together.
Sitting up, Willow pressed her lips together in a firm line. She'd see that that didn't happen anytime soon. She and Tara both knew this was for keeps. Nothing and no one was going to split them up. They had both said much the same to each other. A smile crossing her lips, Willow got up off the bed and walked over to the huge window. The day stretched beyond, glistening sunshine off the lawn at the back of the house. A movement caught her eyes. Looking down, Willow felt her heart sink down to her stomach, then rush dizzyingly back up into her throat.
Tara was walking across the lawn, a wide grin across her mouth as she was listening to whatever the figure next to her was saying. Faith was talking animatedly, her hands waving around wildly as she was telling Tara some tall story, Willow assumed. Her eyes narrowed as Faith leant closer to Tara, before both girls burst into laughter and shook their heads.
Several emotions whipped like chains through Willow's heart, weighing her down for a split second, then dully crashing around her. The strongest was jealousy. For the first time, Willow was jealous of Tara being with anyone else like that, of anyone making her smile so easily, laugh so much. Trust Faith, the thought entered her head before she had a chance to evaluate it, that's just like her to steal what she can't have for herself. She turned from the sight, trying to keep the tears that echoed at the back of her throat, picked up her jacket and marched towards the door, her face set in grim lines.
<
Myrddin had watched the two witches before; he had made them perform a simple spell so he could assess their power and had found that he was more impressed than he had originally suspected. Their conjoined strength was something to behold, not since his days as an initiate in the hill of Wales had he seen magick executed with such gratifying simplicity and natural talent. He remembered those days with a certain fondness and pride. When dragons walked the earth, magick had been revered. Of course, he reminded himself, demons came in rather more accessible forms too, dragons had been the only ones stupid enough to show themselves to mortals. These days, it seemed that demons were getting cleverer and humans were getting more stupid. Time teaches us all, he thought grimly to himself, the image of the woman imprinted in his mind, yes, time has been kind to Morgan Le Fay, she's much more powerful than she ever was.
He turned to where Willow and Tara were sitting opposite him on the veranda outside his room and looked at them evenly through bright eyes. Something was different today. These two were not at ease. Before, they had revelled in each other's presence, drunk each other in like elixir. But now, something was keeping them apart. The redhead, Willow, she was looking straight ahead, waiting for him to begin. The blonde, Tara, she was gazing down at her hands, clasped together in her lap, reticent and uncertain.
He shook his head slightly, whatever had passed between them was of no consequence to him. Magick was the purpose they were here, and magick was the nature of the lesson.
"It's time we began your training proper," he said, eliciting their attention to his movements. He walked towards the wall of the veranda and gazed across to where the trees brushed against one another at the end of the lawn. "I need to test you, you need to perform individually. I know that together," he turned to face the two of them, hanging on his every word, "you are powerful. But you won't always have that bond. Sometimes," he sat down on a wicker chair that creaked beneath him, "witches are alone."
Willow glanced across at Tara, wishing she could take the dejected look of her girlfriend's face. The only words she had spoken to her since their arrival here had been harsh. She had demanded to know what the heck Tara was doing with Faith. The blonde Wiccan had stuttered, alarmed at Willow's response to what she considered a simple stroll. She couldn't get the words out, couldn't tell Willow that Faith was sorry, needed forgiveness, needed acceptance. In her head it was all so simple, but her nerves and her mouth meant that she only got halfway through the sentence before Willow had held up a hand and said she didn't want to know about it anyway.
And that was the way it had been left, the awkwardness of jealousy hanging over them like an axe waiting to fall. Tara knew that Willow was jealous, she wanted to explain about Faith and Buffy, but it was impossible to talk to the redhead when her eyes were flashing with a green she'd never seen before.
Myrddin spoke, alerting both their wandering minds once more. "There is great evil in this world. Great powers that threaten the very fabric of our collective as witches. The Council is under much pressure to protect what we are and who we are from an evil that will expose us in the worst way possible, perhaps even," he paused for a minute, observing the two attentive faces in front of him, "destroy us altogether. One of you will be chosen to defeat the evil. One of you will stay and work with the Council and myself in the old ways. But only one. It is a strain on any friendship." He glanced away and half-smiled to himself, "It is a strain on any relationship. Are you ready? Are you sure?" Once more his piercing gaze returned to them.
"I am." Willow blurted, her eagerness and anger pushing the words out of her mouth before she had time to consider the consequences. She leaned forward in her chair. "I'm ready."
"And you?" Myrddin turned to Tara, who sat biting her lip and twisting her fingers together.
The blonde Wiccan raised her head and looked into his gaze. She had never been surer of anything in her life since the night when Willow had appeared at her door with a candle in her hand. Those feelings of certainty rushed through her now. It was like a calling, an undeniable vocation.
"I am," she nodded. "I'm ready."
Part 9
Faith fell into step beside the two witches as they walked back from their first training session with Myrddin. Both girls were tired and had hardly said a word to each other as they wandered slowly down the corridor towards their rooms. They had a half hour before their evening meal to rest and change. Mrs Betts had said that evening meals were a big deal here at the Council, and the first night Willow and Tara had sat down to eat, they had realised just how much. Vast tables stretched in front of them, cutlery lined up in three rows beside each white gleaming plate. The other resident Council workers didn't make conversation, hardly even looked at each other as they ate in silence. Willow and Tara had giggled at first, trying to adjust to the solemnity of the situation. Mrs Betts had leaned over the table and admonished them quietly, telling them that 'this was how it had always been done' and 'tradition was nothing to be scoffed at'. After that, the two had taken mealtimes more seriously, even pulling out their best clothes to wear.
Their thoughts were elsewhere as the dark Slayer followed them down the corridor that led to their rooms.
"How'd it go with the old guy then?" she asked lightly.
Willow scowled at her and shrugged, noticing that Tara gave Faith one of her best smiles and slowed her pace a little.
"That good huh?" Faith grinned. "He really puts you through your paces though…had me jumpin' all over the damn place the other day."
"He asked us to levitate a chair, on our own," Tara began, almost breathlessly with the memory, her eyes sparkling at Faith as she spoke, "So it was like, all magicky and stuff…I mean…it was kinda hard at first but…"
"Hard for me you mean." Willow spoke suddenly, stopping in the middle of the corridor. Her eyes gleamed in the dim light of their hushed surroundings, her voice sounding loud and abrupt. She looked between the two girls in front of her, watching as Faith raised her eyebrows to herself and shoved her hands into her pockets. A frown crossed Tara's face as she watched Willow's obvious discomfort. "It was all kinda easy for you Tara, but I really struggled." She remembered how it had taken her three times as long as Tara to float the damn chair, how Myrddin had encouraged her much more than Tara. Magic was starting to come less easily to her without her girlfriend. Somehow it only worked properly when the two of them were together.
"No…Willow…you did it in the end though." Tara protested feebly. She had seen how much effort it had taken for the redhead to perform the spell she found so simple. It bothered her more than she cared to admit.
"Which is all that counts, right?" Faith attempted brightly. The look that Willow gave her in return wiped the smile off her face. She looked down at the floor again quickly. Red had such an accusing gaze; always had done. That bothered her more than she cared to admit.
"I guess I just have to face it, I'm not as good a witch as the Council thinks." Willow huffed to herself. She looked across at Tara. "I have to go and get ready for dinner. I'll…" her gaze flicked across to Faith, "I'll see you later."
Turning on her heel, she marched down the corridor, disappearing from view into her own room, the heavy click of the door indicating that she was more than just a little preoccupied with her failure during the afternoon.
"Woah…some heavy stuff goin' on there." Faith murmured. "Red's sure got some temper when she fails stuff."
"She didn't fail." Tara leapt to her girlfriend's defence automatically. She sighed, then turned to the dark Slayer in front of her. "It's just…we haven't done spells apart from each other for a while. I guess maybe Willow isn't used to working alone again."
"Amen to that." Faith nodded. A frown furrowed her brow for a second as she remembered that partnership. Working with someone else, achieving a goal for them as well as yourself. That synchronicity thing. She shook her head, dispelling the thought almost the second it was in her head. Stop aching over stuff you can't change, she told herself, it's all in the past now. Forget it. You had it all in the palm of your hand and blew it off Faith, time to deal.
"What's wrong?" Tara leant forward, seeing the look flash through Faith's dark eyes. She had seen that look before, when they had mentioned Buffy. It worried her that Faith was still beating herself up over something that she needed to share. But didn't want to, that was plain to see.
"Huh? Oh nothin'." Faith shrugged and flicked her hair back over her shoulder. She tried very hard not to look into the trusting blue eyes that were travelling over her face, looking into her.
"Sure?"
"Hey, what is this? Twenty questions?" she managed a faint smile, the usual nonchalant grin she pasted on her face when conversation got too much like real talk for her to handle.
"Sorry. You just looked like you needed to say something." Tara muttered, a blush colouring her cheeks. "Anyway, don't worry about Willow, she'll come around. I know she's a lot stronger than she gives herself credit for. She's really a very powerful witch you know."
"Oh yeah, I know that one." Faith grinned. "She kicks ass with the whole hocus pocus thing."
Tara laughed, a light trickling sound that warmed Faith's heart. She liked this girl, that was for sure. Maybe some other time, it would have been easier to talk to her. But now, with the chains of guilt dragging behind her all the time, it was getting difficult to have an everyday chat with someone, never mind a proper conversation. Tara glanced down at her watch and made a noise of irritation. "I have to get ready for dinner. Are you coming?"
"Uh…" Faith looked down at the floor again, shifting from foot to foot. "I'm not allowed to eat with the rest of you."
"Really?"
"It's some kind of rehabilitation thing…though I reckon it's just they don't want my kind of people with you lot. Maybe they think I might lead you into my bad ways or something. I'm alone. I mean, I eat alone."
Tara was embarrassed for second before her heart filled with pity at the Slayer in front of her who obviously needed some kind of confidence boost. "Well that stinks," she said emphatically, eliciting a grin from Faith in response. "How about we meet up later then? I mean…if you want to, that is."
A look of gratitude passed between them, before Faith straightened up and assumed her casual stance. "Sure, why not?" she shrugged. "S'not like I've got anything better to do, I mean they gave me a television and all but," she leant closer to Tara and whispered conspiratorially, "have you noticed how British TV sucks?"
Willow had just finished brushing her hair when a light tapping came at her door. She shouted for whoever it was to come in and replaced her brush on the vanity desk in front of the huge mirror at one side of the room. A figure's reflection came into the mirror, looking so beautiful that it made her heart clench. Tara. The blonde witch had changed her clothes for dinner and was wearing a sky blue skirt with a matching blouse. Simplicity suited the other girl and as always, it made Willow catch her breath.
"Hi." Tara said softly.
Willow pretended to busy herself with something on the desk in front of her so that she wouldn't have to make eye contact. "Hi. Ready?" she said, a little too brightly than was necessary.
Tara walked across the room to stand behind her. Willow caught a faint scent of the perfume that the blonde witch seemed to carry with her like an aura, pulling her in. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, allowing herself to put aside the unpleasant jealousy that was niggling in the back of her mind. This afternoon had jerked her back into the reality that Tara's powers far outstripped her own. It had been worryingly simple for the other girl to lift a heavy garden chair into the air before placing it gently on the ground. Willow remembered how, when they had first met, the surge of power between them had made that soda machine fly across the laundry room as though it weighed nothing.
I'm nothing without her, she thought to herself. My powers are nothing without hers too. Turning, she faced her girlfriend and attempted a smile. "About before…" she began, but Tara held up a hand to stop her.
"I don't want to talk about that," she said simply, her eyes seeking and holding Willow's gaze. "I know you were frustrated and it's okay, really it is. And Faith…" She sighed, "She's trying Willow, she really is."
"Hmm. That's one word for it." The redhead's tone implied her disbelief. "Don't be taken in by her Tara, she's clever and manipulative."
"Really? And what reason would she have for manipulating me?" Tara crossed her arms over her chest, gazing directly at Willow with challenging blue eyes.
"I don't know. Maybe to hurt me. To hurt you. To split us up?" Willow shrugged.
"So you don't think she might just want to be my friend? I mean, that thought never crossed your mind?" A smile twitched at the corners of Tara's mouth.
"I didn't mean…" Willow began, then sighed. "I saw you with her this afternoon, before we saw Myrddin."
"We went for a walk. We talked. It was nice."
"It sure looked it." An accusing tone crept into Willow's voice and she even pouted slightly. Tara wanted to laugh at the other girl's blatant jealousy, but felt, along with the amusement, a tenderness she had never thought possible towards her girlfriend.
"Are you jealous?" she probed, taking a step closer to the redhead.
"Of Faith?" Willow feigned a laugh that came out as an unconvincing short burst of sound.
"Yeah." Tara took another step closer to Willow.
"Of course not!" came the reply, too quickly to sound like it had been processed at all. Willow opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again. She looked up at Tara's face, now close to hers, feeling the emotion flash through her like lightning. She dropped her head. "Actually yes. I am."
A hand cupped her chin and raised her head until she was forced to look once more into the azure eyes that searched her own. Willow felt her heart fill with love until it was fit to burst. She experienced Tara inside her, so deeply that it felt as though her whole body was humming with the other girl's energy. Above all of that, she felt the love that the other girl had for her, strong and pure, reaching out for her.
"Oh Willow," Tara murmured, "Don't you know how much I love you? I can't see anyone else when you're around. No one else exists for me now. Don't you see that?" Her breath reached Willow's cheek like a sweet caress.
"Well, I just saw you and her…you were laughing and I thought…I mean…she's Faith!" Willow managed to blurt out shamefully.
Tara took the last step towards Willow until their bodies were touching and placed her arms around the slight figure of the other girl. She held the redhead close; closing her eyes as she embraced the one she loved. She felt Willow melt into the curves of her body as always, two arms slipping easily around her to hold her just as close.
"Will, I know what she's done. But I truly believe she's sorry for it. She wants to change, but you know, change is hard for all of us, especially for her. She's not a bad person; she's just had a bad life. I know it's going to take time for you to understand that, but I'm never going to stop loving you." Tara leant back and cupped Willow's face in her hands, "You have to believe that."
"I do!" Willow said, "But I'm so frightened of being apart from you. Things just aren't the same when we're not together. This afternoon…my powers…it was so hard doing it without you." She paused and bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, "I'm scared of what will happen if one of us passes the test."
"I'd never choose anything or anyone over you, whatever happens." Tara whispered, "I love you so much Willow."
"I love you too."
Tara leant forward and placed a simple kiss on the redhead's lips. Willow returned the caress and pressed herself closer to Tara, feeling the passion surge through her body at the simple yet arousing embrace. In the distance, she heard a gong resound through the old house, signalling dinner. She sighed and stepped back, breaking the kiss.
"What's up?" Tara frowned.
"Dinner's up." Willow grinned, "And you know, you shouldn't go doing that when we don't have time."
"We could be late." Tara grasped one of the other girl's hands and squeezed it, a suggestive smile crossing her lips.
"Well…I guess we could be. But you were the one who advocated abstinence for us both, remember?"
"Willow!"
"But it doesn't mean we can't resume this later, of course," the redhead cocked her head onto one side, almost embarrassed at her own candour.
"I'd like to but," Tara turned and led Willow towards the door, "I promised to meet up with Faith later." She noticed the look that crossed Willow's face and tutted, "As friends Will…god, you're so cute when you're jealous." She opened the door and walked into the corridor, holding their joined hands between them as they made their way down the thick-carpeted floor to the dining room below.
"I just don't like her, Tara. I don't trust her." Willow shook her head, trying not to remember.
"I know." Tara smiled. "But you will."
Part 10
After a week of training with Myrddin, it was fast becoming obvious to all that Tara's powers were stronger than anyone had expected. The spells she performed on her own were potent and showed an extensive knowledge of Wicca. Myrddin had been impressed on more than one occasion and made a point of telling her so, eliciting flushes of delight and embarrassment from the blonde witch. He was aware of the competition rising naturally between the two girls he was training, but made no reference to it in his notes that he often scribbled whilst they worked. He saw great potential in Willow, who made no secret of her admiration for Tara. The trust and love that flowed easily between them was beginning to make him rethink his Council objectives.
When he remarked to Mrs Betts that he had not seen a pair like them for many years, she had merely smiled and nodded. He understood her sadness and knew that was the reason she had kept away from their training sessions. Many years ago, she too had experienced a similar connection with another witch, the last time that Morgan Le Fay had crossed their paths. It had lacked the passion and strength of Willow and Tara's bond, but it had been breathtakingly powerful nonetheless.
Sitting in his huge chair on the veranda outside his room, he watched the sun sink down behind the row of trees at the end of the garden and tried to dispel his growing discomfort at what lay ahead. All those years ago, all that loss and pain, he felt it like it was yesterday. The years stretched behind him as smoke trails, painting whispered paths in the sky of his life. To see so much human suffering had been his burden, a weight he carried with him every day. And that it should be happening again…he sighed and shook his head, his fingers stroking his long beard absent-mindedly. The scene was replaying, the stage set and ready, the cast assembling before his very eyes. Two young girls battling a witch who was more powerful than any he had come across before.
His eyes flickered closed as the memory blazed clear in his mind. Edith had never quite got over the death of her working partner. Perhaps that was why she was so protective, in her own bluff way, of Willow and Tara. It must never happen again. Never, he told himself. In a lot of ways he had felt responsible for that weakness, for the death of that young witch. In a blurred second, the spell they had been casting had been prey to a lack of emotional control and Morgan Le Fay had pierced their protective armour, killing swiftly and without regret.
No, he thought to himself, I won't let that happen again. Not this time. It will succeed. It must. A noise behind him made him open his eyes. He smiled benevolently. "Hello Faith."
A sound of irritation came from the Slayer as she sat down in front of him, swinging her leather-clad legs over the wall separating his veranda from the garden. "Jeez, I can never just creep up on you can I?" she grinned at him.
"I have a sense for you, Slayer," he said. "You are becoming more focused every day, I can feel that when you are near me."
"I guess." Faith shrugged off the compliment, feeling it with unease. "I kicked ass this afternoon though huh?" she smacked a fist into the palm of one of her hands and leant forward eagerly, "So when do I get to do it for real?"
Myrddin gazed at her through steady blue eyes, pulling his cloak around his knees against the air, which was cooling fast as the daylight retreated. He had seen her grow in his training. She had come here bruised and battered, a broken spirit with nowhere to go. So much energy in one young body that was fusing and spitting with empty promises and so much pain. Her eyes had looked haunted and confused for a long time. Tonight was one of the first times she had taken pleasure in her training in a long while.
"The time will come soon enough," he told her, watching as she leant back on the wall and folded her arms across her chest, her lips taking on a defiant firmness he had seen many times before. "You must be patient Faith, all in good time."
"In case you hadn't noticed, patience isn't my strong point." Her tone was tainted with a harshness she only ever used when talking about herself.
"Not yet, perhaps. But you are learning," he replied. "I see you working with the two young witches and it pleases me." He referred to a morning session where Faith had actually helped complete a spell with Willow and Tara. Despite the obvious tension between them, he had sensed some kind of strengthening bond, however brittle it had been at first.
"Tara's okay." Faith hung her head, her dark eyes picking out a fleck of mud on the ankle of her trousers. "Re…I mean, Willow still hates me I guess. But she didn't put a spell on me, so maybe she don't hate me that much."
Myrddin let out a low chuckle. "If you find it so hard to redeem yourself with her Faith, why bother? Is it that important?"
He watched as a pair of brown eyes reached up to join with his for a moment. Faith reached up and pushed her hair back behind an ear, thinking for a second. She knew he saw into her, maybe in the same way that Tara did. She felt his gaze probing far deeper under her surface than anyone she'd ever known, with maybe the exception of Buffy. In that moment, she was stripped bare of her hard exterior and the denial that protected her from getting hurt.
"Yeah, it is," she said softly. "It really is."
"Willow, you must try to concentrate. Put your energies into the rock rather than the rock into your energies." Myrddin's voice came clear and strong as he guided the blinded redhead towards a huge boulder on the lawn. Willow, wearing a blindfold, was walking with her arms outstretched, her fingers literally crackling with mystical energy. This was the second time she had tried this in an hour. The blue fizzing at the ends of her fingers was partly due to her frustration and partly due to her growing powers. A little way off, Tara and Faith stood watching. Willow could feel the blonde's gaze on her back, boring into her like two red-hot dots of light. She always knew when Tara was looking at her, no more so than right now. Only, she reasoned with herself, if Tara was looking at her, then so was Faith. Her hands wavered and the crackling ceased for a split second. A green mist wrapped itself around her head with images of Tara and Faith together. She shook her head to try and dispel it, but it had already settled deep into her subconscious and was wreaking havoc with her concentration.
"Willow, take off the blindfold." Myrddin's tone was low and exasperated. Reluctantly, Willow pulled off the black sheath on her eyes and hung her head. She so desperately wanted to impress this wizard, but knew that her efforts were far from outstanding. Unless you counted outstandingly bad.
"What is it, child?" the wizard took a step towards her, lines around his blue eyes crinkling into his cheeks as he frowned down at the dejected figure in front of him. He laid a hand on her arm gently, his fingers squeezing at her light cotton top.
"I can't do it," she muttered, almost under her breath. She hadn't wanted to admit to herself that failure was a possibility, but, under the circumstances, it seemed a probability. "I just can't do it."
Myrddin smiled briefly. "I know you can child, I saw that the first time I met you. But," he paused for a second, "something is stopping you. Success as a witch is all about emotional control, having the presence of mind to ignore what we see in our earthly world whilst we conjoin with the mystical realm."
"I know!" Willow gasped, ashamed of the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes. "I know that, but I just can't….I can't!"
Tara watched as Myrddin stepped closer to her girlfriend and placed an arm around her shoulders, speaking to her in hushed tones. Straining her hearing she couldn't even pick up a word here and there. She sighed and folded her arms. She had understood and acknowledged the difficulty Willow was having with her magick. Powerful as she was, it seemed that the redhead just wasn't making the right connection. It worried Tara as much as it worried Willow.
"Looks like Red's not with the game today." Faith commented beside her, making Tara jump. She had forgotten that the Slayer had been invited to watch the training.
The blonde turned to the dark girl next to her and sighed. "Is it that obvious?"
"Oh yeah." Faith cocked her head onto one side, "Real loud and clear. What's with her these days? She seems to hate me more than usual," a grin spread itself unwillingly across her lips, "If that's possible."
"She doesn't hate you." Tara murmured, her gaze glancing back to where Myrddin was still imparting pieces of wisdom to Willow, her shoulders hunched underneath the wizard's touch. "She can't do the spell. It makes her mad."
"And she looked so darn cute in that blindfold an' all." Faith nudged Tara pointedly, trying to raise her spirits somewhat. She hated to see that sad look cover Tara's face, almost as much as she hated to admit how much she had come to like and respect the other girl too. "How about you wear that later on for her, kinda cheer her up some? That and nothin' else?" A cheeky grin accompanied Faith's lewd statement.
The image of a blindfolded Tara, no, a naked blindfolded Tara, was in the blonde's head before she could tell Faith not to be so silly. It was such an absurd picture that she couldn't help herself and a loud burst of laughter came from her mouth, whilst a deep red flush suffused her cheeks. Her wide eyes looked at Faith, who bent over guffawing at the expression that covered Tara's face. The two girls giggled uncontrollably, holding onto one another for support.
Willow heard the sound and turned abruptly. All she saw was the closeness, the touching, the apparent joke she had made of herself. Is Tara laughing at me? Is Faith laughing at me? Questions whirled around her head as she almost staggered backwards under the horrid sensation that whipped around her head and body. She looked back at Myrddin, who reached for her arm again. Quickly she snatched it out of his grasp.
"No." she said quietly, through gritted teeth. "I can't do this." Giving one last glance back at Tara and Faith, she dropped the blindfold at Myrddin's feet and ran towards the house, waiting until she had crossed the threshold of her own room before letting the tears fall hotly onto her cheeks.
Robert Merryvale replaced the telephone receiver and pressed his fingers against his temple for a moment, attempting to relieve the wild throbbing that sent a panic pulsing through his head. The silence of his office was deafening, a roaring in his ears that did nothing to alleviate the danger that seeped into his very being.
"It has to be tonight," he remarked, sighing and turning round in his chair to look at the woman on the other side of his desk.
Edith Betts raised her thin eyebrows, reaching up towards her silvery hairline. She shifted her position in the chair opposite him and smoothed her hands down her tailored skirt. "Tonight?" she echoed. "Don't you think that's a little too soon?" her voice held a wavering uncertainty that was echoed in Merryvale's reply.
"It is, but it has to be tonight. Otherwise she may have access to the cave before we know it and if that happens…" His voice trailed off, knowing that he didn't need to spell anything out for the experienced woman. "There's no choice I'm afraid."
"Hmm. I'm afraid too Robert," she answered quickly. "Those girls aren't ready to go alone against Morgan Le Fay," she almost spat the name out, "and as for the Slayer, well, she's hardly ready to be with other human beings, never mind a conjurer like Le Fay."
Merryvale reached for his pipe, taking what seemed like a very long time pushing tobacco into the well and lighting it, puffing clouds of smoke up above his head. He dared not make eye contact with Edith Betts, knowing that her disapproving gaze could weaken the resolve of any Council representative. Instead, his eyes flicked around the room and he took a deep breath before speaking.
"Take them both. Perform the ritual. They can continue training in the meantime and we'll…we'll have to see about the choosing later."
"But, Robert -" Edith began, but was cut off by the huge figure opposite her leaning forward and slamming his hand down on the desk.
"Dammit Edith, we just don't have any time!"
For a moment, his eyes met hers, bloodshot and tired. Edith realised just then how dangerous this was to the Council; to the essence of what they all worked for; to the country. Perhaps, even, to the world. She blinked at him once, then watched as his vast bulk sank back into his chair.
"Alright then. I'll take them tonight. And the Slayer too."
Willow was lying on her bed, her face buried in the rough texture of the eiderdown. She had been crying hard, and her throat was raw and her eyes, she was sure, were red. She knew that Tara loved her, that was a given. But seeing her laugh so easily with Faith like that had driven a sharp point deep into her heart. She had never thought it possible to get so jealous over someone, even when Oz had been with Veruca; she had never felt pain like this. She still remembered the brief startled look that passed through Tara's eyes as she had run towards the house. Perhaps even Tara didn't how much it hurt. Or maybe she was trying to make her jealous? Or maybe she wanted to hurt her so she could pass the test. Or maybe…
The redhead rubbed furiously at her eyes and leant up on one elbow. Stupid! She chided herself. Tara's not like that. She was afraid of how strongly she felt sometimes. Of how rich the love was that coursed through her and into her. When it hit her brain as it had before, it felt like nothing else existed and no one else mattered except her and Tara. And now there was Faith. Willow sniffed loudly, well wasn't three just a crowd?
She heard her door open somewhere behind her and sniffed again. "Go away," she called without turning round.
Whoever it was at the door didn't answer. They didn't go away either.
"I said," Willow sniffed again, "Go away!" She scrambled around on the bed and her mouth dropped open at the sight of Faith in her doorway.
For a long moment the two girls stared at each other. Faith's eyes held a regret and pain that Willow could not let herself acknowledge. Her own green eyes flashed back defiance and hurt. She sat up on the bed, rubbing at her nose. "I don't want to talk to you," she said in a low voice.
Faith let out a long breath, then stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. She leant against it, chewing at her bottom lip. Her eyes pulled away from Willow's accusing glare and swept around the room, taking in the books on the desk near the window, some open, some littered with pages of notes stuffed inside them. A framed picture of Tara laughing was set neatly next to Willow's bed on the small table holding a lamp and a watch. Tara, who had been desperately worried when Willow had run off and had wanted to run after her. Faith remembered how she had offered to come talk to Willow.
A chill ran down the Slayer's back. What's wrong with me? She had held Tara back and offered to go after Willow herself. Cool Faith, she thought grimly, nothin' like facing your own demons is there? Especially red headed demons who are badass Wiccans.
"Did you hear me?" Willow's voice broke into her thoughts. Her eyes flicked back to the very angry redhead sitting on the bed, poised as though ready to strike like an angry cobra. "I don't want to talk to you Faith."
"No?" Faith took another step further into the room, placing her hands on her hips, her feet assuming the stance of defence. "Well, maybe I'll just talk to you for a while then."
Willow opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it again. Something told her that whatever she said, Faith wasn't going to go away just like that. She knew how stubborn the dark haired Slayer could be, how obstinate her nature was. With not a little fear she leant back on the bed, leaning on her hands.
"Why did you just run off like that?" Faith said, her brow furrowing in confusion, "I mean, Tara was really upset."
"Tara was upset?" Willow echoed. A dry laugh escaped her lips, she shook her head slowly. That was rich!
"Yeah she was." Faith took a stride closer to her, her brown eyes gleaming in the dark room. Willow shrank back on the bed, causing Faith to jerk backwards, her hands held up. "Hey, easy Red, I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanted you to know…" she trailed off, shoving her hands into her pockets. "Aw what's the use?" she muttered to herself.
"No…go on." Willow heard herself say.
"You…" Faith started, then bit her lip thoughtfully. She moved forwards daringly and perched on the end of the bed, just far enough away from Willow so as not to pose a threat. The tension between the girls was thick with misunderstanding. Faith took a breath and started again. "You know how she feels about you don't ya Red?"
"That's none of your business." Willow said firmly, her lips pressing together in a hard line.
"Well I'm makin' it my business." Faith answered shortly, "She loves you Red, more than you can ever know. And if you made some space in your head for that with all them books," she flung her arm towards the tomes piled high on the desk, "then you'd know that she would never do a thing to hurt you. Not never. And I'm not interested in her….like that." The expressive brown eyes dropped down to gaze at the leather-clad legs on the bed. "Not her," she added softly.
"You're interested in whatever you can take Faith. You always have been."
"Right. So I can't change then? So why are you even bothering to talk to me now?" the dark haired girl said bitterly, her face working its way around statements of self-hatred and guilt. "She's a good one Willow. Tara is a good one. Don't let her go or you'll never forgive yourself." These last words were spoken in a whisper that came hoarsely from Faith's throat.
Willow frowned, trying to understand what this was, who this was. It wasn't like the Faith she had known. Gone was the bluff exterior, stripped away to reveal someone quite unlike the young woman who had punched her way into all of their lives back in Sunnydale three years ago. She was looking at Faith, sure, but she was hearing someone who had a voice full of guilt and regret. In some ways, it pleased her more than she had expected it to. But in others, it made her really, really sad.
"Faith, I can't trust you."
"Yeah? Well good call Red." Faith shrugged off Willow's comment and stood up. She gathered herself together, looking down at the confused witch on the bed. "All I'm sayin' is that you and her belong together. You know it; she knows it; hell, even I can see it. I'm not tryin' to take her away from you Red. I just wanted…" a laugh came humourlessly from her throat and she hunched her shoulders in shame. "Forget it." She walked towards the door.
"Faith, wait!" Willow's voice stopped the Slayer in her tracks. The redhead stared at her back, wanting to say more, do more; feeling like this was a moment not to be wasted. "What did you want? What do you want?"
The other girl stood still for a moment before turning and looking Willow in the eyes, a naked gaze so full of pain and longing that it made the redhead's heart clench in pity. The Slayer closed her eyes and pressed her lips together before she opened them to speak.
"I just wanted a friend."
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Part 11
The pathway was dark, with an uneven surface that tried the skills of even the most surefooted among them. Willow grasped Tara's hand a little more tightly than usual, the events of the day weighing heavily on her mind, distracting her from their headway so that she stumbled against Tara more than once. Ahead of them, Edith Betts and Myrddin traversed the pathway lit only by a dim torch as though they knew it like the back of their hand. A few steps behind them followed Faith, cursing every time her foot slipped on the grassy bank at the side of the path.
It was silent except for the sounds of the night. A muted call here and there of a creature who had lost its way; the scurrying of small things out hunting; the worrying shriek of something that Myrddin assured them was just an owl. The distance from civilisation was not the only thing that worried the girls; they had been driven here and had been told nothing, only that there was a preparation ritual in which they must partake if all was to go well and that it must take place on Alderley Edge itself. Nervous tension had dampened conversation on their journey, Tara huddled up in-between Willow and Faith in the back of the car, the dark haired Slayer unable to look at the two witches.
Similarly, Willow had been unable to offer Faith more than a cursory glance as they had squeezed into Edith Betts' back seat, clearly not built for carrying three healthy young women. What Faith had said to her that afternoon had disturbed her greatly. It wasn't so much the fact that Faith had been honest with her, it had been the look on the Slayer's face. There was so much pain and regret there that Willow could barely register the person on which it appeared. Could Faith truly have changed? Her confession, it seemed, had taken a great force to push into the open and Faith had turned on her heel and left Willow's room before the redhead had had a chance to say anything. She had sat alone for several long minutes before going to find Tara and apologising, their mutual feelings reasserting themselves long before any feelings of guilt or blame did.
At the end of the long pathway, Myrddin and Edith stopped to let the girls catch up with them, turning with the torch between them so that its dim beam cast a shadow into which Willow, Tara and Faith stepped.
"Follow me, be careful, there are steps," was all Edith said as she led the girls down a series of stone slabs to yet another pathway. On one side rocks sheered up away from them, shielding them from the wooded land up above. On the other side, the path dropped into a yawning blackness that reared tall trees reaching up into the midnight blue sky.
Faith stood back and let Willow and Tara go ahead of her. She watched as the two girls reached for one another's hands again and a wry smile crossed her face. Someday, she told herself, someday it would happen. And when it did, she pulled her jacket more closely around her lithe body, it would be just like that. She had accepted the closeness the two witches showed, hell, she even envied it some. Maybe, her eyes rolled upwards to survey the sky peppered with pinprick stars above her, it wasn't too late. Myrddin had told her once that it was never too late to do the things you needed to do.
She stopped for a second, still gazing up to the sky. If Willow could listen to her when she really tried to say things that mattered, then why couldn't Buffy? It had haunted her ever since she had seen Willow and Tara. The whole Sunnydale mess was clear inside her mind again. How she had treated the only person in the world who wanted to be her friend, how she had screwed Buffy over for nothing, for personal gain. The feelings of inadequacy she had felt every time she was near the blonde Slayer didn't seem to matter now. Besides, she reasoned with herself, she had only felt inadequate because she had been feeling something else too.
A sigh escaped her lips, sounding horribly loud in the dulled night air. Buffy seemed to be on her mind more and more these days. Everything she did seemed to be leading up to that moment when she would face the blonde Slayer and pour out her heart to her. Something that Faith, in her former days, would never have done. But, she shook her head, there was maybe something to be said for honesty. Something she couldn't quite fathom out right now, but, given time, it could maybe work for her like it obviously worked for Willow and Tara.
"Faith?" a voice came to her from the torch light down the path.
"Yeah, be right there," she walked down to join the three witches at an outcrop of rock that hung over the path. Her feet splashed through water that was running across the muddied path and she pulled a face, having only cleaned her boots that very morning.
"Wow, look at that." Willow breathed as the torchlight swung upwards to gleam off the wet rock above them. About ten feet above their heads was a smooth, moss covered expanse of grey stone. Into the stone was carved an image and some words. As the young women looked more closely, they could see that the image was of a face, of Myrddin's face. Time had worried the lines into his visage, but it was him nonetheless. He looked impassively down at them, his eyes no more than sunken holes in the stone. Underneath his face the words were partly covered by moss and dirt, but the girls could just make them out.
"Drink of this and take thy fill," Willow read out, her voice halting over the carving.
"For the water falls by the wizard's will," Tara finished.
Three sets of eyes followed the rock down to where it disappeared back into the hillside. There at the base of the hill, was a stone trough, roughly made and hewn out of four long slabs of smoothed rock. Into the trough, water dripped in a steady series of droplets to fill the trough with clear water that danced in the torchlight.
"Cool." Even Faith was impressed. "Guess the old guy's pretty big round here huh?"
Edith Betts turned to the three young women in front of her, setting the torch down on the side of the stone trough. She felt the anticipation rise in her body as she remembered being just like them, so many years ago. When she had been brought here with her spell casting partner, they too had gazed in wonder at the image and the words, understanding the magnitude of their actions and their purpose only then. "We must cleanse our hands before we begin the ritual," she said quietly, reaching forward and dipping her fingers into the ice-cold water. She splashed a little of the fluid over her hands, making sure her wrists were covered. Willow and Tara did the same, standing back and shaking the excess water off their fingers, shivering a little in the summer night that was surprisingly cool.
"Faith?" Edith motioned to the Slayer, who hung back from the others slightly.
"I'm not a witch. I mean, I can't do the magick and stuff." Faith said, feeling not a little excluded from the cleansing. She shifted her balance, hearing her feet scuffle against the wet pathway beneath her.
Edith made a small tutting sound and stepped closer to her. "Faith, you are an integral part of this ritual. We can't do it without you. We need your strength and your power if we are to succeed. Be a part of us."
Faith felt a glow suffuse her stomach, almost as though she had been touched with warmth. She was glad it was night, as she was sure she was blushing. The words were spoken with such kindness, she had almost forgotten what it was like to be wanted, to be needed. All her life she'd been searching aimlessly for the feeling of belonging and now it was being offered to her with an outstretched hand.
"She's right Faith. We do need you." Tara's voice came out of the darkness to her, quiet and yet strong at the same time. The blonde witch laid her hand on Faith's denim covered arm, squeezing gently.
As Faith dipped her hands into the water, she sensed a strange feeling deep inside her, weak at first, but growing, ever growing. It felt like she was washing away some of the sorrow and guilt too.
When the four figures made their way back up to the stone steps, they were unaware that they were being watched. High above them on the hillside above the rocks, a shadow moved between the trees. She had felt their presence on the Edge and had watched in disquiet as they completed the cleansing ritual. They were here at last. It could begin.
Edith led them back up the steps down which they had travelled to the wizard's well, but then took a turn to the left and followed the path onto a plateau that was essentially a platform of rock on the hillside. The surface was smooth beneath their feet, lit by an eerie glow coming from a circle of candles lit in the centre of the plateau. Myrddin was waiting for them, sitting back on his heels, eyes closed, his hands joined in front of him as though meditating.
Willow and Tara stopped, their eyes pulled out off the edge of the rock that dropped into inky blackness. Far beyond that, they could make out the looming shadow of hills rising in the distance, their violet haunches crouching underneath blue peaks. Below, the patchwork array of fields that glowed green in the sunlight were dark and misted, drifting tendrils of grey seeping across their surface as the night gathered its cloak of darkness and covered the earth. There were homes down there somewhere, the girls let their gaze drift across the land, seeing thousands of tiny lights that mirrored the clear night. It was as though the land under darkness was reflecting the stars that winked down at them. It was breathtaking.
"Wow," Tara turned to face Myrddin, who had opened his eyes and was watching them with some interest. "That's…well…it's amazing!" she grinned.
"Welcome to the Edge," he intoned, in a serious manner. "Where you are standing has been the witches place of magick for centuries. The Edge has been here long before we started practising. It holds much power." He laid a hand on the rock underneath him, palm down, fingers splayed. "Feel it humming beneath you, as it always has. Harnessing the power of nature is the only way to truly become powerful yourselves."
Willow nodded and took a step closer to him. "And witches…they come here to cast spells?"
Edith moved into the circle of light cast by the candles and seated herself neatly next to Myrddin. "Until we were driven into the mineshafts and caverns below the Edge in the 1940's, yes. It seems that the local people were scared of our gatherings. So," she cast a glance across at Myrddin, who pursed his lips in agreement with her, "the police patrolled here regularly in an effort to prevent us. Although they never will."
"How many witches have been here?" Tara moved to take a seat next to Edith as the woman gestured to her. She settled herself down by the candles, the flames casting an orange hue to her pale features. Her eyes held such eagerness and interest that Myrddin smiled, despite his apprehension of what the night might hold for them all.
"Child, there are always witches on Alderley Edge." He pulled his long cloak around him and bent his head. "There always will be, for as long as the battle of good and evil goes on."
Willow turned away from the gathering around the candles and moved forward, feeling her feet scuff on the smoothed surface beneath her. The patterns far below her were mesmerising, together with the clarity of the air, the sharpness of the rolling hills beyond. She could barely take her eyes away from the raw beauty of the shadowed countryside, how it pulled her in. She took another step forward, feeling a lump of rock jut out and catch her foot unawares. As she plunged forward, panic rising in her throat to mute any cry she may have uttered, a hand darted out of the blackness behind her and caught her arm above the elbow.
She was jerked back onto the flattened safety of the rock before words could leave her lips, spinning round to find herself looking directly into a pair of deep brown eyes that showed concern.
"Hey Red, better watch out. These old rocks aren't gonna catch you if you fall." Faith spoke quietly, aware that the group behind her had hardly noticed the incident at all.
Several feelings whipped through Willow's senses all at once. She was indignant that Faith be the one to pull her back from the edge; whilst at the same time was flooded with gratitude and what seemed, to her horror, to be embarrassment. Her mouth dropped open, but again, nothing came out. She was as mesmerised by the change in those brown eyes as she had been the raw, untamed nature below her. For a second, Willow was aware of a kinship between herself and the Slayer that flickered strongly in the pit of her stomach, flared, then died again. It bothered her.
She glanced down at the hand gripping her arm and pulled her red- jacketed limb away almost roughly. "Thanks," she mumbled, moving away from Faith before the expression in those eyes turned to hurt.
As Willow took her place around the circle of light, Faith looked out across the black expanse beyond the lip of the rock plateau. She closed her eyes, trying to remember when she'd ever had more than a cursory smile from Willow. Damn, this is hard, she thought to herself, save her goddam life and nothin'. She felt something like sorrow rise tearfully in her throat and swallowed hard, pushing it away. Down by her sides, she clenched and unclenched her fists, pressing so hard that her nails dug into her palms. Don't give up, she heard Myrddin's voice in her head, ever present these days, let them see you as you really are, it's the only way forward. Turning, the dark Slayer took a deep breath as she sat down on the stone in between Myrddin and Edith Betts.
"We will complete a circle by saluting the elements, as we practised yesterday." Myrddin spoke softly, his eyes bright points of light reflecting the flame from the candles in front of him. The rest of the group nodded. Faith stared into the flame below her, feeling awkward and out of place. A hand touched hers as it rested on her cross-legged knee. She looked up to see Myrddin gazing at her with what looked like paternal concern. "Child? Are you confident?"
For a moment Faith felt the urge to get up, run away, and keep on running just like she always did. She wanted to commit to this, to fight the good fight, but something in the back of her head kept screaming at her that she couldn't do anything anymore. That old feeling of uselessness and shame reared up inside her like an old dragon that refused to die. Feeling the eyes of the group on her, she could barely keep her own open, wondering if the guilt showed as clearly on her face as it did on her heart. But looking at Myrddin and his open trust in her, his faith in her surged a power she had never felt before into her whole body, singing through her veins and pounding blood in her ears. She met his gaze and nodded briefly, enough to let him know that she was ready.
"We will begin." Myrddin removed his hand with a tiny smile only Edith Betts understood. His eyes met hers over the candles and she nodded. He joined hands with the two women either side of him, gesturing with his head for the others to do the same. Once the circle was formed, he urged them all to close their eyes.
"Eurius, Lord of Air and Guardian of the Watchtower of the East, we summon, stir and call you up to guard our circle and join in our rite. Blessed be thee."
"Blessed be thee," the refrain came, Faith's voice no more than a whisper carried away on the wind that pushed the flames of the candle from side to side.
"Notus, Lord of Fire and Guardian of the Watchtower of the South, we do summon, stir, and call you to guard our circle and join in our rite. Blessed be thee." Edith Betts said, her voice unusually soft and gentle.
"Blessed be thee," the rest of the group added.
Tara licked her lips and took a deep breath, feeling Willow squeeze her hand as she tried to remember the incantation word for word, just as Myrddin had taught her. "Z…Zephyrus, Lord of Water and Guardian of the Watchtower to the West, we do summon, stir and call you to guard our circle and join in our rite. Blessed be thee," she said, the words coming out in a rush of expelled air.
"Blessed be thee," the group intoned. Tara opened her eyes a crack and caught Faith looking at her. The Slayer gave her a wink and a friendly grin. Tara blushed and returned the smile, closing her eyes again as Willow began to speak.
"Boreas, Lord of Earth and Guardian of the Watchtower of the North, we do summon, stir and call you to guard our circle and join in our rite. Blessed be thee," the redhead recited, her voice strong and confident in the words that created the magick that was stirring all around them.
"Blessed be thee." Faith's voice rose above the others, strong and confident.
The flames of the candles rose in strength, conjoining to become a continuous circle of pure energy, flickering with white light. As the five opened their eyes, they looked around at one another, their force suffusing and mixing until it seemed that they were one, that individuals no longer existed, that the five were working as one unit, one body.
"Show us the darkness within the light." Myrddin spoke to the air around them that was crackling with blue flecks and orange fire. "Call to us the one we seek. Guide us to her lair."
A shadow fell across the circle of light, dimming the flames of the candles and causing a frown to pattern across Myrddin's aged face. The breeze that had previously been tickling at their faces and hair now blew harder, the coldness of the air causing Tara to shiver and look expectantly across at Myrddin, who was sharing a concerned glance with Edith Betts.
Willow barely had time to form a coherent thought in her head before she noticed the surprise widen Faith's eyes and followed her gaze out of the circle back towards the pathway.
"Who the hell is that?" Faith said quietly, her voice full of muted fear.
As the five turned their heads to look at the intruder, the figure stepped closer to them. A beautiful woman, her face chiselled by cruelty into fine boned cheeks and black eyes, stood before them. Her thin mouth contorted into a smirk as she observed the group in front of her. She seemed impossibly tall to the seated girls, a swathe of midnight purple covering her slender body, relieved only by the yellow hair that fell around her shoulders, braided back away from her face.
"I knew you'd come," she spoke to Myrddin, her gaze flickering around the circle before it rested on his lined face. The sharp eyes then moved to settle on Edith Betts. "And you," she directed a harshness towards the old woman, "didn't you have your fill of me the last time?"
A silence fell as the woman's words, the sound of her melodious voice, drifted into the heads of the young women seated around the circle. Willow felt Tara's grasp on her hand tighten as they both sensed the blade of fear cut into their hearts. The redhead tried to take her eyes away from the creature that towered above them, but found that, like the magick and the location, she was pulled towards the woman like a moth to the flame. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, trying to shake off the mystical hypnotism dragging at her consciousness like a magnet. When she opened them, looking at Tara, she saw that the blonde witch was the same. They felt powerless to move, powerless to look away.
However, one of the circle who wasn't quite as in touch with her inner witch was looking directly at the woman, her strong jaw jutting out defiantly. Faith's face adopted its famed 'Slayer' statement as she felt the fear this woman was engendering within the group of people that meant something to her. She felt the power of the woman pulling at her, but at the same time pushed it away, as she had done so many other emotions. She placed it to one side, finding her voice again.
"I said, who the hell are you?" she asked again, her gaze meeting a pair of eyes so dark and evil it chilled even her Slayer heart.
"Didn't he tell you?" the woman laughed, a musical trickling sound coming from her milk-white throat. It was a laugh Faith didn't care much to hear ever again. "I'm Morgan Le Fay.”
Part 12
For a moment, no one spoke. Members of the Scooby Gang, and even Faith, were well versed in medieval history of the kind that included magick and evil. Morgan Le Fay was a name that had cropped up often in discussions about Arthur and his valiant struggle against witchcraft and sorcery of a most dark nature. Giles had told them the story of Morgan Le Fay and her constant attempts to pull Arthur from his throne. Perhaps the most insidious of his foes, Le Fay used her sexuality and familial connection to Arthur to woo him into a false fatherhood and a damning fate.
And now she stood before them, in a glory that seeped from her dark clothes like a pervading blackness towards them. Her dark eyes moved around the circle again, resting lightly on each frightened face before stopping at Faith's. Morgan Le Fay let her gaze linger on the strong features and furrowed brow that hung over brown eyes, sullen and wide in their defiance of her. A faint smile rested on the blonde woman's lips as she realised who Faith was.
"Slayer." Morgan Le Fay said gently, although her voice came to the listening group clearly over the rising wind around them, grabbing at their clothes on the high plateau, the gusts falling over the edge of the precipice to the muted ground below.
Faith got to her feet, despite Myrddin's cautionary glance to stop her from doing so. She balled her hands into fists beside her body and stepped out of the circle, feeling the cold air hit her face like a frozen wall. As she broke the continuum of the circle, the magick the group had conjured weakened slightly, then dissipated into the ether above them.
"You bring another Slayer to me?" Morgan Le Fay directed her question at Myrddin, whilst her gaze never left Faith's face, moving over it slowly, deliberately, like a caress. "I thought last time we met would have proven to that not even the Slayer is a match for me."
"I'm no ordinary Slayer lady," Faith spoke, her voice strong and surly. She felt the strength of the woman's power sifting through her body, touching her from the inside; it felt almost sexual, potent, irresistible. Taking a step towards Le Fay, Faith squeezed her eyes shut and pushed again at the power taunting her.
"No, I feel that." Le Fay's smile widened and she held out her hand, the purple material surrounding her arm draping away dramatically towards the ground. "Come," she said. "I know you feel it inside you."
Faith's fists tightened. From their position on the ground, the group could see her knuckles whiten with the effort. A chill settled in Willow's heart as she realised what was happening. Faith was being tempted by evil again. And the last time, well, everyone had suffered from the last time. She glanced across, startled, at Tara, who still had hold of her hand. The blonde witch nodded imperceptibly, understanding implicitly what Willow was thinking.
"Morgan Le Fay, you will not succeed in seducing this Slayer." Merlin's voice was old and cracked by his years, but strong and firm in his words. "She will not join you."
"Oh really?" Le Fay laughed again, the sound dropping like sharpened glass on the ears of the group listening with bated breath. "Look at her, old man," the voice hardened to a serrated edge. "She feels the will inside her. She's felt it before, the power, the glory of it all." Morgan Le Fay raised her face up to the night trickling down around her and breathed it in slowly. "Who could resist such a temptation?" her gaze travelled downward in an arc to rest on Faith's face once more. "You can't resist it can you, Slayer?"
Faith opened her mouth to speak but found that no words came out. She glanced down at Myrddin and Mrs Betts, her eyes pleading a silent request. A kaleidoscope of memories flew through her head as she fought to remember who she was once, before the evil had surged into her soul, before the days when killing was a game and humanity had fled her tortured heart. How well she knew the rush of power; often she had thrilled merely at the fear her victims had turned towards her, knowing that it was by her own hand they suffered. The pain that gripped her mind was complete; the memory hard-edged and keen as any blade she had ever used.
"I won't let you do this again Le Fay." Edith Betts rose to her feet, facing the witch head on, her voice ringing with past injustice and wrongdoings. The old woman looked very frail set against the lithe body of the ancient sorceress, bathed as she was in purple and the dark. "You might be able to seduce these young minds, but you won't have mine. Not ever."
Le Fay moved an inch closer to her old adversary. "How time plays cruel tricks on us all," she said, her voice dripping with cruelty and venom, "The clock of our life makes us old and withered, doesn't it Edith?" She looked the old woman over once, then smiled, assuming a pensive statement. "At least, it has for you hasn't it? I always found humanity quite an endearing species; they battle against the years only to find themselves victimised by them in the end. You always were a fighter Edith, weren't you? Even back then, when I offered you worlds of experience, you chose this one," her hand swept around the plateau as her lips pursed into a line of distaste, "A paltry reward, and, if I may say, one that doesn't fit you well."
Again her eyes swept up and down the body of the old woman, as though assessing her strength and ability. A satisfied look crept into the pools of darkness that saw beyond the physical plane and Morgan Le Fay stepped closer to the group. "You're no match for me Edith, you are old and weak, and I," she held her head proudly, erect on her pale swanlike neck, "I am still beautiful and strong."
"Your vanity always was a problem wasn't it, Le Fay?" Edith spoke bluntly, a grim line of firm defiance cutting her face. The figure in front of her stiffened slightly at the insult, as Edith continued, moving ever closer to the tall woman. "You were always ready to take the path of darkness, never giving chance for the light to shine. Evil begets evil and you can never win. No matter what you do to them," she gestured towards the two young witches, sitting breathless and exposed on the chilled stone behind her, "to me, or even to him," she cast her hand towards Myrddin, who was staring at Le Fay with something like bated fear in his eyes. "You're evil Le Fay, and you always will be. Knowing that must rip you apart inside just like it always did. We'll never accept you and your ways."
"Oh really?" Le Fay tried to appear unconcerned by the words that shifted her position, made her prowess fall back a little. "Well, dear Edith, you may not, but she will," she pointed at Faith, who was rooted to the spot. The dark Slayer felt the tugging magick at her, surrounding her with the exhilaration she used to feel when she was working for the Mayor. Those feelings, long hidden and almost forgotten, rose up inside her in a torrent that swept her towards Le Fay and her works. Faith, long the mistress of seduction, was surrounded by a sensuality she had craved for many years, almost too wonderful, too irresistible.
"Tell me Slayer," Le Fay's voice tickled at her ears like the kiss of a lover, "Wouldn't you like to taste the belonging just once more? Grasp it in your hand like untouched flesh?" She moved closer towards Faith, the figure of Edith Betts the only barrier between them. The girl was weakening, she could feel it.
Faith shook her head slowly, trying to dispel the forgotten passions that had driven her all those months before. She could feel the double stares of the two young witches on her back, glowing into her flesh, willing her to resist. Myrddin's eyes were also fixed upon her, like two cobalt arrows piercing her very soul. Fragments of words and images of faces danced through her head as she stood transfixed in the darkness for what seemed like hours.
"Join me, Slayer." Le Fay motioned with her hand, beckoning Faith towards her. The dark Slayer took a step forward. To belong, to be wanted…it was within her grasp. She walked towards Le Fay, stopping to take a long look into the aged face of Edith Betts. The old woman put her hand on Faith's arm, just for a second.
"Faith, you can never go back once you've decided," was all she said.
The girl nodded. "I know," answered, before her gaze returned to the mesmerising figure of Le Fay.
The circle of candles flickered in vain before their flames were extinguished.
Morgan Le Fay watched as the four figures in front of her stood hurriedly and moved together in the darkness, their silhouettes outlined against the sky that was birthing a pregnant full moon. The silver disc glittered above their heads as they turned almost as one to face her. Willow and Tara stood with Myrddin, a few paces away from Edith Betts, watching as Faith took her place beside the sorceress. Tara reached for Willow's hand and held it close to her body, her sadness palpable in the night air. The redhead shivered despite herself, the wound in her heart opening and bleeding salted tears of sorrow and disappointment. Her green eyes filled with fear and sadness as the dark Slayer stood as tall and proud as an Amazon beside the flaxen haired woman, their faces set and shining clear in the moonlight.
"In every generation," Le Fay spoke as coldly as the air that dampened their spirits and tugged at their souls, "there is a Chosen One. She will stand against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer." Her pale hand crept around Faith's shoulders. Edith Betts felt herself shudder at the look that Le Fay bestowed on her newest acquisition. "She is my Slayer."
Faith reached up and her fingers slid over the pale hand resting on her denim jacketed shoulder, her eyes never once leaving Edith Betts'. As the young girl and the old woman locked gazes, she grasped Le Fay's hand in her own, holding it almost sensually for a second, before twisting her body out of the embrace. Before Le Fay could take in enough air to breathe, Faith had held the sorceress at arm's length and delivered a hefty kick to her midriff. Catching Le Fay off guard, the blonde sunk to the stone beneath her, clutching at her stomach.
"What are you doing?" she hissed, staring up at Faith with horrified dark eyes.
The Slayer stepped back for a second to view her handiwork, a crooked smile flitting over her lips as she flicked her dark hair back over her shoulder. Placing her hands on her hips, she shrugged. "Guess it was that whole powers of darkness speech," she said lightly, "Y'know, I've really heard that old 'chosen one' stuff too many times for it to be anything but horse crap. You're the one who's the powers of darkness lady, and me," she cocked her head to one side as though thinking, "I'm the Slayer, just doin' what I do best."
"You don't know what you're dealing with…" Le Fay began, lifting herself up slightly from the ground.
Delivering another kick to the sorceress that sent her plunging down towards the stone again, Faith shook her head. "Will ya just shut up?". She turned to see Edith Betts and Myrddin smiling at her, their faces sending a glow of triumph through her athletic body. Behind them, she could see the amazed face of Willow gleaming at her in the moonlight, whilst Tara was beaming from ear to ear. Faith almost blushed, before reality hit her and she was aware of a shifting movement from where Le Fay was lying.
"Come on you guys," she urged, "Let's get with the mojo otherwise I'm gonna have to save your asses again."
The group needed no further prompting. Joining hands, they moved into their circle again, ready to call forth the powers of nature to bind Le Fay and her powers. With no time to light the candles again, the three witches and the wizard chanted loud and strong, their voices rising above the silence to form an odd chorus in the night. Faith turned her back to Le Fay, knowing that a pounding from the Slayer was enough to lay anyone out cold for at least a few minutes.
She was wrong.
Le Fay rose up behind her, mirrored in the startled eyes of Tara, who caught the movement beyond the circle. The shimmering glow that had started to form around the witches enclosed them in a circle of light, whilst Faith stood beyond that. Myrddin caught Tara's gaze and followed it, nodding at Edith Betts. The old woman increased the pace of her chanting as the group attempted to complete the spell before Le Fay recovered her full power.
A rage filled the heart of the flaxen haired sorceress. She had had the Slayer within her grasp, she had known that. But something had stopped her…some intangible power that superseded her own. As it had always done in the old days, it enraged her now. She would not fail this time. She gathered together her purple swathes of material and closed her eyes, beckoning the night and all its forces to join her in an incantation of pure black magicks. Closing her eyes momentarily, she held out one hand towards the back of the Slayer as she stood watching the spell casting. Splaying out her fingers, Le Fay's lips moved as she muttered a few words, causing the tips of her fingers to glow. Red sparks flashed as the light grew stronger and burned a black flame out of each fingertip. Directing her energies towards the Slayer, Le Fay opened her eyes and gazed at the strong figure that had damaged her pride.
The first sensation Faith felt was a pressure on her back, as though someone was pushing up against her. She tried to move, turn around, but found that her limbs were not obeying her mental commands. A warmth spread throughout her body, sucking at her strength, lulling her into weakness. She staggered, leaning over and swaying dangerously towards the group in front of her. Behind her, Le Fay's mouth sliced into a dangerous smirk as she pulled the life force out of Faith in a long, thin thread of bright whiteness.
Edith Betts saw what was happening. She had seen this before, many years ago. Her heart clenched at the recognition and she made as though to let go of Myrddin's hand, feeling his grasp tighten around her own limb as he turned his eyes to her own shocked ones.
"No, we must complete the spell. It's the only way," his voice was low and he spoke intently, the other two young witches chanting with their eyes closed tightly against the night.
"She's killing her!" Edith hissed, her lined face full of pain that Myrddin understood only too well.
"It's for the greater good," he insisted, "We must complete the spell."
Edith paused for a moment, looking at her mentor of many years, wondering at his persistence. She glanced back to where Faith was slumped to her knees, her hands scrabbling at the stone as though searching for the answer to her weakness. The girl's eyes flickered as she fought to keep them open against the dullness of unconsciousness blanketing her body and mind. Edith's eyes met with Faith's, again their communication clear and unmistakable. The old woman's gaze travelled upwards to meet Le Fay's, whose dark eyes, filled with ancient magicks and nefarious rituals, smiled coldly back at her.
Wrenching her hand from Myrddin's, Edith flung her old, yet fast body forward to cover Faith's. The girl murmured something as Edith pulled the girl to one side, breaking the stream of energy that was leaking from her body. She moved the slight figure easily, taking off her coat and covering Faith with it. With a sinking heart, Edith noticed that the Slayer's eyes were closed and her body was limp and lifeless. She turned with flashing eyes to Le Fay. "How dare you!" she growled, rising to her feet and facing her old enemy once more. "She's just a girl!"
Le Fay shrugged delicately, "And that matters? In the end, we're all energy Edith, you should know that."
"I won't let you do this again." Edith drew herself up and lunged at Le Fay, her anger over the past and her new sorrow over Faith controlling her body as she raised her hand to strike out at the sorceress. Myrddin cried out, alerting the attention of the two young witches, who gazed, horrified as the sorceress drew herself up to her full height, the purple cloth billowing around her body as demonic winds played with her hair, tumbling it around her cruel features.
Le Fay held both hands up in front of her to ward off the onslaught of Edith, blue electricity leaping between them. A ball of pure black light formed in the space between her hands, lighting her face with an eerie, menacing glow. At the instant that Edith came close, Le Fay threw the light at the old woman. For a second it glowed in the air, then dispersed and scattered itself all around Edith's body. Shock and pain registered on her face just once, before the light exploded in hundreds of fragments, blinding Myrddin, Willow and Tara, who hid their faces from the brightness.
When they finally uncovered their eyes, the image of the light still burned brightly in the darkness, like a photograph flash, memorised on their retinas even after they had shaded their eyes. Blinking rapidly, Tara gazed to where, moments ago, Edith and Morgan Le Fay had stood practically face-to-face. She heard her own heavy, rapid breaths as the incident imprinted itself in her mind. Stepping forward, she saw nothing. Le Fay had gone. And Edith? Tara blinked again, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. It was then that she saw the shadowed figure on the ground. It was inert.
Willow's hand crept around her arm as they looked down at the once strong and lively body of Edith Betts. She was lying, arm flung out in front of her, hand reaching towards the space where Le Fay had stood. Her eyes were closed and her face was still. As the girls turned their gaze away from the sight in front of them, their hearts heavy with sorrow and a pain that was numbing them from the inside as the cold did from the outside, Willow heard a moan from the ground, a few paces away.
Myrddin stooped over the body of the Slayer, covered in Edith's coat, as she sighed and sat up groggily. Rubbing at her head, she squinted up at him as his strong weathered hands slid around her back, helping her up. His face was inscrutable, she couldn't tell what had happened. All she had felt was a weakening of her consciousness, a slipping into a black coldness that had welcomed her with open arms. Faith had tried to tell it she was not ready yet, that she still had things to do, but it yawned open and sucked her in before she could fight. Thankfully, she noted, looking around her, she had been returned to the present at the last minute. Good thing that old Mrs Betts had….she almost stopped thinking as her eyes caught sight of Willow and Tara standing over a body on the ground. One that wasn't moving at all. One that was what used to be Edith Betts.
Her eyes met Myrddin's in a widened stare; brown pools of shock and dismay meeting his piercing clear gaze. His cloak rustled as he helped her up and put her arm around his shoulders to keep her steady. Faith felt her knees weaken underneath her and tremble at the mere effort of keeping her upright as her eyes wandered over the inert form on the ground.
"I tried to stop her," she whispered. "I didn't know…"
"Hush child." Myrddin said in a low voice, his tone betraying no emotion, although as he spoke, the corners of his mouth turned down behind his beard and he averted his gaze as though he could no longer bear to look at Edith's body, growing colder in the midnight air.
"Is she…?" the question hung between them for a moment, Faith's voice trembling over the unspoken words she didn't want to force out, although they were rolling around in her mouth. She couldn't take her eyes off the body, couldn't see the tears that were falling from Willow and Tara, couldn't comprehend what was happening. A grief so strong it almost tore her heart from her chest clutched at her, causing her to stumble and almost fall.
Myrddin tightened his arm around her and steadied her once more. He closed his eyes briefly and murmured a prayer of rest. "She's gone," he said simply.
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