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Reflections in Raindrops (9/?)
Authors: Shadowriter (shadowriter@kc.rr.com) and TrueXena
(truexena@columbus.rr.com)
Rating: R
Couples: W/T
Spoilers: Through this season
Notes: This is us trying to get beyond the W/T rift, kind of.
Archiving: Sure, but please talk to us first.
Feedback: Please. Pretty please? Public or private, either one.
Copyright: The characters in the story are the property of Joss Whedon (much
bowing in his general direction) and Mutant Enemy. We are borrowing them for
a short time, but will return them in perfect condition. The plot, however,
is ours.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Reflections in Raindrops
Part Nine
Willow was chilled to the bone by the time they approached the stone and wood deck immediately outside the tower. She watched as the door loomed ever larger. It looked odd, like it had been built well after the original tower. It was circular at the top and tapered. Different colored bricks were mortared into the area around the wooden frame. While the other stones were dark and had signs of age, these around the door showed no marks from weather erosion.
When they reached the deck she was pushed against the stone wall and allowed to slide down it. The two guards who had carried her up the stairs took up positions on either side of her. The third entered the tower. Willow closed her eyes and sighed.
Quietly, she contemplated her situation, which hadn't gotten any better in the last fifteen minutes. Instead of a decently dry wooden pen with a roof she was sitting on cold stone with no shelter but the two guards. Obviously they had plans for her, and for all she knew she'd end up barbecued, or sacrificed to some war god. Or both.
Plus, it was raining, heavily. It made her captor Goshti smell rancid, and she wondered for a moment if it was the rain that made them smell that way? After sniffing her hands, she decided that no, it really was just how a Goshti smelled.
They didn't seem to even feel the rain, but Willow did. The cold was making her muscles cramp and her body shake. Granted, most of the blood and gore from the battle with the avilingua were gone, but she was waterlogged.
It didn't rain often in Sunnydale, she thought, but when it did, it did it right. She hadn't really considered rain fun until Tara started taking her for walks during the California showers. It was something in their relationship that was just for fun, and for pleasure. Not that the rain was pleasurable. It was nice, but the best part was that afterwards Tara would take her into a hot shower, and then bundle her up and bring her hot chocolate. Willow had started to look forward to rainy days.
With Tara, she had tasted the rain itself, seen how it gave life to the earth and all her creatures. Tara had taken Willow into the park to listen to the drops of rain as they hit the leaves on the trees. They'd danced to no music but that of the rain. Each time they'd walked through it together, Willow had felt cleaner.
Of course after those rains there would be some flooding, and everything would be coated with mud. She hated that. Mud was.... muddy. And floods in California were dangerous because a lot of California was just dried mud anyway. It was often the the flooding that started a mudslide, and the mudslide could take out people and homes in minutes.
It was a consequence of the rain, and Willow had always known that. If you have rain, there would be a reaction from the earth. So, it was a pleasure and a nuisance, all at the same time.
Frowning, she wondered why she'd never looked at it that way before.
"Tara," she whispered. "Where are you, baby? Are you okay? Please, you've gotta be . . ." Willow pictured Tara's smiling face, tried to bring alive those blue eyes in her mind. When she finally got the picture the way she wanted it, she tried to project all her energy into it, all her love and need. She could feel herself reaching out, feel her
hand touching Tara's cheek.
Something in her grew warm as the image of Tara began to glow, suffused by a rainbow of light behind the blonde. Slowly, the rainbow effect faded, and turned into rain, though the Tara in her mind didn't seem to notice. Willow smiled in her fantasy. The rain there was like a warm blanket and she sighed.
Then her eyes popped open as her injured knee was kicked. She bit her lip to keep from screaming and looked up to find the third Goshti had returned.
"Coshemti." She shook her head to show she didn't understand what he was saying. He growled at her and took the leash that he'd handed to one of the other guards. Giving a tug on the collar, he said again, "Coshemti."
Carefully Willow stood. She found she was able to put a tiny bit of weight on her knee, enough that she could hobble along behind him as he led her to the tower door.
He pulled her inside and then took off her collar. It took a moment for her eyes to focus in the dim light of the room. When she finally could see, the first thing she noticed was a podium of some kind in the middle of the floor. It was silver, and shined to such perfection that it sparkled even in the glow of the candles on the walls.
The second thing she saw was a man. From his profile, he looked human. He was staring at the podium, his arms crossed, with a mixture of surprise and pleasure on his face.
He turned to look at her, and she saw that he had a silver scar that ran along the left side of his face, from his jaw to his hairline. He regarded her steadily, as if measuring her.
A smile played across his face. "Well, well. A human witch at last." His eyes flashed, and Willow shivered. "Must be my lucky day."
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It didn't take long for Amy and Tara to understand why Willow had said the third floor was like a maze. They tried to follow the directions she had stated earlier, but either they weren't right, or they weren't complete. Soon, the two witches had to admit they were lost.
"We need the book."
"Yeah, well, that's a problem. It went with Willow."
Amy sighed. "I know. Just stating the obvious."
The bright side was that they hadn't run into any monsters. It didn't mean they wouldn't, but they hadn't yet.
Tara stopped so suddenly that Amy almost ran into her. She put a hand to her chest, and looked around the hall in confusion.
"What's wrong?"
For a moment, the blonde didn't answer. Then she closed her eyes and gasped. "Willow?"
Amy looked around. She saw nothing. "Tara? What's going on?"
Tara slowly sat down, her eyes closed tightly. "God, Amy, she's in so much pain."
But there was more than pain coming down her fragile connection with Willow. There was a great deal of love. In her mind she saw Willow reach up with her hand to stroke Tara's cheek. She could almost feel the touch, even though she knew Willow wasn't there.
She tried to send love and strength back to her friend, but the tenuous connection was broken with a jolt. Tara cried out Willow's name once more, softly, then lowered her head.
Amy knew Tara was crying, but didn't say anything. She waited until the blonde wiped her eyes and looked up.
"What happened, Tara?"
"I-it was Willow. She was reaching out to me, w-with her mind."
"Her mind?" Amy frowned. "But, how could she do that without....." She trailed off when she realized what had happened.
Tara shook her head. "No. That was no spell. I - I would have felt it." She looked away, staring at the ceiling. "No, that was all Willow."
"But she had to tap into her magical power to do that."
"She might have, but I don't think she intended to, or even knew it."
"Did she say anything?"
"No. She just --" The blonde blushed when she thought of what Willow's eyes had conveyed. "She just told me she loved me."
Amy nodded. They were quiet for a few moments, each of them mulling over what had happened.
Tara knew Amy was right; Willow had just used magic of some kind. But there had been nothing of the heavy dark energy associated with her ex-lover's magic at the end of her and Amy's rampage. This hadn't been an out of control spell, or a spell of any kind. It had been ... well, natural.
As she waited for Tara to recover from this sudden twist of events, Amy brooded over it in her own mind. Willow had used magic. Knowingly or not, Willow had used. It left the dark haired witch with a sick feeling in her stomach. After all, if she hadn't brought them here, if they hadn't gotten separated, Willow wouldn't have had to reach out with anything other than her hand.
She wondered if the book was really worth all this. So far, all this quest had done was put all three of them in mortal danger.
For the first time, she wondered if she was as addicted as Willow said she was. Why else would something like this have been so important? Why else would she have risked all their lives?
Tara finally shook herself and moved to stand up. "Well, that was interesting." Amy reached out a hand and helped her. "I think I can find the way we need to go."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, there's a slight trail left by the magic; like a pull from a magnet. I can feel it. If we follow that, we should find Willow without a problem."
Amy frowned. "But, Willow's downstairs. I thought we agreed it would be too dangerous to go there."
Tara shook her head. "I don't know how, but Willow isn't down, she's up.
I can feel it. I can feel her."
Her companion raised both eyebrows, but just nodded. "Okay, then. Lead on. Which way to do we go?"
Tara pointed back the way they'd come. "This way."
After several more twists and turns, they finally came across what seemed to be a path to the center of the maze. Instead of seeing doorways they'd already marked, they were seeing new and different rooms, some still with remnants of finery in them. A few more turns, and they were in a long hallway that had no doors. The end appeared to open out into a large room.
"Bout time."
Tara nodded. "Now let's just hope we can pass whatever test Willow was talking about."
Amy swallowed, regretting yet again her rash decision in bringing them all to the castle. "Tara, I was never very good on tests."
"Me neither. Always preferred writing papers." She glanced at Amy with a smile. "Guess we'll just have to wing it."
"Right. Wing it."
They slowed down as they got closer. Finally they could see into the room, and they stood outside the door looking around carefully.
It was a large chamber with a round dais in the middle. At the end of the dais opposite them was a staircase that they could see twisting up into a part of the ceiling. It was, presuamably the tower.
The other end of the room, between the door and the edge of the tower, was open. Rain came pouring down from the grey sky.
Tara looked at Amy and quirked an eyebrow at her. Amy shook her head, and looked down. She took a couple deep breaths and looked back up. Meeting Tara's gaze solidly, she nodded.
Together they stepped into the room.
Tara expected to feel rain, but she didn't. Instead, she found herself standing in a dark room. She couldn't see any walls, and the only light was behind her.
"Amy?"
A hand came down on her shoulder and she turned.
"Guess again."
Tara froze as she looked into the face of her older brother Donny.
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He looked to be about thirty or thirty-five, with a cleanshaven face and pale skin. His scar stood out in contrast to his hair, which was deep chestnut brown, about collar length, and swept back over his ears. He had dark eyes, though in the light she couldn't see their exact color.
When she realized he'd spoken to her, Willow looked up, startled. "Oh, hey. I can understand you. That's different." She realized just what he had said. "But I'm not a witch. Well, not anymore."
The man folded his arms and looked at her. "No? Why do you say that?"
"Because I'm not?"
He stepped around the podium putting it between them. "Ah, but you are. And a very powerful one at that."
"N-no, not anymore," Willow protested. She shook her head. "I don't do magic anymore. Long story, but not anymore."
The man smiled at her. "But you just did. Right outside. I felt it."
"What? I didn't do anything outside."
"You reached out magically to your friend." He laughed slightly. "The fact that you did it without realizing it shows just how much power you have."
"I did? But I didn't, I swear. Did I?" Willow remembered how real it had felt to touch Tara's face, and she knew he was right. A part of her was appalled that she had actually used magic again. "I didn't mean to; it was an accident, I swear."
"It's alright. You don't have to apologize to me." He picked something up from the podium and walked slowly over to Willow.
"My name is Loshar Exbron. I'm a wizard. A sorcerer if you will." He smiled down at her. "And you are?"
"W-Willow."
He smiled. "Willow. Wonderful name."
"Not a witch," she added insistently.
Loshar laughed again. He stepped past her and looked out a small window set in the stones. "For a hundred and fifty years, there have been witches from all dimensions and all the worlds, looking for the book. Most have perished on the floors between here and the ground. Those that
have gotten here have proved rather useless." He turned back to her. "The Goshtimjaharan have brought me every witch they catch in the castle."
"I'm sorry, the Goshti- Goshtim --"
He turned back to her. "Goshtimjaharan. They were my soldiers in the battle against Salarion, and now they guard the castle."
"I see."
Loshar smiled at her."You, Willow, are the first human witch to be brought to me in more than ten years. And the last one was, unfortunately, useless." He stepped closer and held something out to her. "We'll see if you will turn out to be the same or not."
Remembering what had happened the last time she accepted something from someone, Willow kept her hands at her sides.
"Oh, please. It's harmless, really."
"I've sorta got issues about people handing me things lately. What is it?"
Loshar shrugged. "It will simply tell me if you and I come from the same dimension. If you can open it, we do. If you can't, we don't." He smiled. "Rather simple, don't you think?"
Willow looked closely at the object, seeing only a thin silver box about the length of his hand.
"Nothing else? I won't be sucked into a vortex and stuff, where I'll go to another demension?"
Another chuckle. "No. No vortex will open."
"O-okay." Hesitantly, she reached out and took the box from his hand.
"Try to open the clasp."
Willow found a golden clasp on one end, and flipped it open with ease.
"Like that?"
Loshar smiled again, this time letting it turn into a grin. Willow found herself thinking that he looked like Xander did when he was possessed by hyenas. "Perfect. That proves you are what you appear to be; namely human. Now," he stepped closer, well within arm's reach, and fixed his gaze on her, "Open it."
Willow moved her thumbs to opposite sides of the clasp and pulled them apart. The box opened easily.
Only, it wasn't a box after all. It was two solid silver plaques that fit together exactly. Something was engraved inside them, and as she looked at it, she realized it was a spell.
Loshar was laughing triumphantly. "Yes! Well done, Willow!" He turned away and went to the podium, staring down at something on it. "Soon," he
whispered. "Ah, Salarion, you are about to be defeated at last."
"Salarion," Willow whispered. Her eyes widened. "The book!"
He looked up at her. "Yes. The book. So, you've heard of it, hmm? It is why you came here, isn't it?"
"Well, no I didnt really have a choice in coming here, but yes I know of the book."
He beckoned to her. "Come. Come see what all your effort has been for."
Willow stepped forward and looked at the face of the podium. Set into the middle of the silver surface was a golden book with a gleaming white diamond on the cover. As she looked closer she could see that there were two hand prints on the cover as well, one with a black jewel in the middle and the other with a blue gem.
"Nice. So, that's the Grimble of Salarion?"
"Grimoire, and yes. You'll notice the two handprints on it. That is, of course, because there must be two witches to remove it from this location. One alone cannot free it."
Willow looked up. "Oh, no. Sorry, Loshar, but no. I'm not a witch anymore, remember?"
He shrugged. "Would't matter even if you wanted to free the book. Right now, I'd be of no use to you." He glanced around the room. "You see, I'm trapped here. Have been for a very long time. And until I'm free, I can't free the book."
"Oh." Willow took a breath. "How'd you get stuck here?"
"You don't know the story of Salarion and his golden spell book?"
She shook her head.
"Well, then, I'll tell you, shall I?"
Willow nodded, and Loshar folded his arms, putting them on the podium.
"Solarion was a wizard born on earth, in our own dimension, about fourteen hundred years after Christ. He was a sheepherder until one day when he came upon a younger child lying in a field after having been injured. He cured the child, and was heralded as a messenger of god. However, when someone he tried to cure ended up dying, his village thought him an evil spirit instead. They were going to hang him when he was rescued by Sir Robert Aurejoin, a member of the Knights Templar. Sir Robert recognized the boy for what he was and he took him to be education by a wizard named Raymar. Now, the story of Raymar is actually fascinating, but since it doesn't bear on our current tale, I'll move right along."
Willow shuffled her feet a little and winced. Loshar looked up from his story.
"I'm sorry, how rude of me." He left the room, going into a small back area where Willow could see a table and chair and the end of a bed. Then Loshar returned, his lone chair in his hands. He set it down for her, and she slid into it gratefully. He leaned back on the podium.
"Are you comfortable?" She nodded. "Good. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, Raymar. . ."
"Suffice to say that Raymar was a very powerful wizard and he taught Salarion many things. All of which were recorded in the book." He tapped on the golden volume on the table. "This book. It has spells of binding,
of healing, of power, and many more. It gives the secrets of many magics, and can even tell the resting place of the last known phoenix, who died in the fifth century before Christ." Loshar stroked the book with his fingertips. "It is even said that the spell of immortality was in here." He looked at her. "Do you see why it's so important?"
Willow nodded. "Right. Important. Spell of immortality, even."
"Yes." Loshar turned his eyes back to the gold on the pedestal. "And I wanted the book. Salarion learned I was searching for him. He knew it was only a matter of time, and he knew that face to face, I was better than him and would kill him. So, he switched dimensions. But I tracked him nonetheless. Once I knew he had settled here, I knew I had him." He sighed. "Unfortunately, I made an egotistical mistake that cost me my freedom."
"What was your mistake?"
"I gave him too much time." He moved away from the pedestal and began pacing. "I knew he was trapped, as I had closed all possible means of escape, including dimensional. He couldn't leave his castle. So, I waited. I kept a superior force outside, thinking he would bargain with me. And the book would be mind." Another shrug. "Instead, he set a trap for me."
Loshar stopped and looked up at her, a smug expression on his face. "I killed him. Right in this very tower. I used a spell and sent a bolt of lightning through his body and I watched him fall. His body burned to death before my eyes." He sighed.
"But the trap was already sprung. Salarion set the spell to trigger if he was killed by magic. His killer -- that would be me -- would be trapped here, in this tower. Unable to leave these two small rooms. Forever." He gazed at the podium. "And he left the book here as a final punishment. He trapped it, making sure that I couldn't get at it. Spell bound so that only two witches can free it, and only if they're both free." Turning to her, he smiled. "So, you see my dilemma."
Willow nodded. "Oh, yes, of course." Then she stopped and took a breath. "Well, no. Not really."
"It's very simple. I need you to free me." He picked up the now opened silver box. "You see, Salarion left this behind as well. It's a spell that will free a prisoner from all magical traps. The only problem is it only
works if used by someone of your own dimension." Loshar sighed again dramatically. "And coming from a planet where magic is not very accepted, and those that practice the arts are outcast and even killed -- well, let's just say things weren't looking very good."
He stepped in front of her and smiled. "But now you're here. And you will free me."
For a moment, Willow couldn't speak. When she did find her voice it squeaked out. "Me? Um, no. No, I - I don't do magic anymore. Not at all. I can't."
"Oh, but you can. And you will."
She shook her head. "I can't."
"You mean you won't."
Willow shifted nervously in her chair. "Well, yeah, that, too, but -- can't sounds much better than won't, don't you think?"
He smiled at her. "You know, I can't force you to use the spell. It must be read willingly."
She tried not to smile in relief.
"However." Loshar leaned down and grabbed her leather jerkin, hauling her up till her face was a bare inch from his own. "I can always make you change your mind."
He dropped her into the chair and stepped behind her. His hand gripped the back of her neck and pain flared through her head.
"Now, Willow. Let's discuss the fate of you and your friends, shall we?"
End Part Nine.
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Later dayz,
TrueXena
"I'm so evil, and skanky...and I think I'm kinda gay."
[This message has been edited by TrueXena (edited December 06, 2001).]
[This message has been edited by TrueXena (edited December 06, 2001).]