CHAPTER 4

The witch could see Buffy and Tara huddled close at one of the Pump’s tables. She wasn’t close enough yet to hear their conversation, but they both looked fierce. She moved toward the pair – or tried to move. It felt like she was swimming through clouds. The thick damp grey clung to her hair and clothes, impeding her progress. Finally, she reached a point only a few feet away from the Slayer.

“You don’t think? What’s that supposed to mean?

Buffy’s voice was strident, and Willow desperately wanted to know why her friend was so angry at Tara. She tried to move closer and reached out an ethereal hand. As she sought to touch the Slayer’s arm and get her attention, the world shifted again. With a sickening lurch and an almost audible pop, the redhead opened her eyes to the warm glow of the fire and a pair of worried green eyes. “Willow? Are you OK?”

Unable to answer, the young witch stared down at Jennifer Hirsch. She reached out a shaking hand and gripped the older woman’s arm. “Not sure,” she managed to say. She was suddenly freezing. A quick looked showed her clothing was damp. It was real. I was actually there. What the hell just happened?

“Here, lean on me. Let’s get you inside.” Draping her daughter’s arm across her shoulders, the older redhead began leading Willow toward the house. Luckily, many of the guests were tucked away in darkened corners of the ranch, enjoying the evening. No one seemed to notice their slow trek across the yard. Opening the kitchen door, Jennifer urged Willow inside.

Still shaking from her experience, Willow slumped onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “Sorry,” she slurred. “I don’t really know what happened.”

“Your energy is fluctuating. Whatever it was had magic at its core.” Jennifer sat down next to Willow and watched her carefully. Her color was slowly coming back, the freckles fading back into the flush on her cheeks. “Can you at least describe what happened? Maybe we can figure it out together.”

“OK.” Closing her eyes and regaining her focus, Willow went on, “I got up for another beer. Took a not so smiley trip through memory lane during the walk. That’s when everything just faded into grey.”

“Faded how?” Jennifer reached out a tentative hand and lightly stroked her daughter’s still damp hair.

“It was like all of the color got sucked out of everything, like walking in shadows.” Turning her head a little and opening her eyes, Willow tried to smile. “I don’t think I was in Kansas anymore.”

“So everything faded and suddenly you were somewhere else,” her mother repeated.

“Not just any somewhere. Sunnydale. I was standing in the Espresso Pump watching Tara and Buffy talk.”

“Did they see you?”

“No. No one did. I don’t think they could. I could see and hear everything, but I’m not sure that I was really there.” Shaking her head in confusion, she met matching green eyes. “Does this make any sense? Am I going crazy?” A thread of panic seeped into her voice.

Responding instantly to the inherent need, the older redhead slipped off the stool and pulled a shaking Willow into her embrace. “No, no, baby. Not crazy.” Holding tightly to her daughter, Jennifer silently cursed the situation. A litany of “what ifs” followed. What if Kirstan had been there the day of the abduction? What if she’d been a better witch and could have found a way around the blocking spell? She knew Willow was close to a breakdown; unfortunately, teaching her the control she needed was going to be almost as traumatic as her current state.

“Sweetie, you really aren’t crazy. The magic is simply controlling you.” Pausing to make sure Willow was listening, Jennifer steeled herself for what lay ahead. “What you did tonight shouldn’t even be possible. With a thought, you shifted dimensions and translocated to Sunnydale. That kind of power, Willow, in a witch your age, is terrifying.” She tightened her hold when the girl in her arms tried to pull away. “I’m not letting you go, baby. I know you aren’t responsible for releasing the power, but if we don’t help you learn to control the magic, we will be responsible for the devastation that happens when you eventually lose control.”

“How? How do I stop this from happening? You just said I did all this with a thought!” Willow was frantic. Despite feeling drained and hollow, the young witch felt more magic surge through her channels.

Jennifer felt the rising power, too. Clamping down on her fear, she began softly chanting. Silvery mist rose from the ground, surrounding the two embracing forms. “Lock it down, Willow. Here’s your first big lesson. You know what’s happening; you can sense the magic growing. It’s a choice now – your choice. If you don’t put a lid on your power this time, you and you alone will be responsible for what happens.”

Nodding in understanding, Willow reached deep into memory and began an old meditation mantra she had learned from Jenny Calendar. Emptying her mind wasn’t possible, but she worked on gathering the fear and the power and flushing them slowly and safely from her channels. The mantra built upon itself, increasing the inner calm with each repetition. Five cycles into the chant, the young witch had calmed enough to see the brackish power clogging her magical pathways. Entwining those strands with newer, cleaner ones, she gave a mental push. It worked. Continuing the mantra cycles and sweeping the dark magic with purer power, Willow finally saw her system becoming clear.

With a heart felt sigh, she shut down her inner sight and returned her gaze to her mother’s. “It’s done.” It took far too much energy for those words. Even though she hadn’t moved so much as an inch in nearly thirty minutes, the mental exercise had drained her power reservoir. A reaction headache snaked through her head, just the leading edge of what was sure to be a debilitating migraine.

“I can tell.” Jennifer stepped back, dropping the arms that had steadied Willow during her inner struggle. Keeping her gaze impersonal, ignoring the strained face and the trickle of blood leaking from her daughter’s nose, the older witch said, “Tomorrow, we’ll start your training.”

***

Seeing that Buffy was cooperating, Tara said, “When Willow first started talking about bringing you back, she didn’t have a clue the amount and type of magic she would be channeling. Ignorance didn’t last long. Basically, Willow used the urn to force Osiris to resurrect you. Along the way, she faced a variety of magical tests. I think during these trials, Willow must have tapped into her potential somehow.”

The Slayer shifted in her seat, and the witch knew she was going to have to speed up the explanation. Buffy wasn’t going to last long with the silence. “When she broke open the magical reservoir, she triggered a chain reaction. The power she tapped would have been hers given time. She began using it before she had reached the right levels of training and maturity. That’s the reason we noticed the over-reliance on magic after you came back. A thought or a perceived need, and the magic just took care of things.” Tara caught the Slayer’s eye. “It is still possible that the opening was created by an essence nestled inside Willow. We can’t rule that out without having someone do a deep scan. There are too many possibilities, but those are the most likely scenarios.”

“OK. I get that. No absolute answers. But neither possibility explains what happened recently, with the withdrawal symptoms and her erratic behavior,” Buffy said.

Dropping her gaze to the trash on the table, Tara replied, “I think that’s where we get involved.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Not in the least, sweetie.” The witch forced herself to meet the sad hazel gaze. “We kept telling her she had to stop ‘using,’ assuming she had a choice. Unfortunately, Willow didn’t have a choice. She wasn’t using external magical forces. The power flowed from her prematurely tapped power reserves. She couldn’t stop the flow because she didn’t know it was there.”

“But she did go to the power broker. She even took Dawn there. If she wasn’t a junkie, why did she need Rack?”

“She didn’t.” Tara paused to take a sip of her cold mocha. “She believed that she did. I convinced her to stop using after she did the first memory spell. Regardless of her power source, stopping meant withdrawal-like symptoms. I’m betting she freaked over the shakes and nose bleeds and rushed out to find a way to make them stop. Rack would have been the logical choice. He’s the only broker in Sunnydale and because of the Hellmouth, he has a frightening array of sources.”

Buffy looked stricken. “You’re saying she went to Rack thinking she needed a fix. Somehow, he sensed the power in her that we missed, didn’t he?”

Tara could only nod.

“Did he do something to Will? Is that why everything got worse afterwards?”

Pushing her hair behind an ear, the witch considered the question. “It makes sense, Buffy. If he tried to access her power and bleed the reservoir dry, Willow would have fought back. That might have widened the leak from her potential. Widen the break in the power barrier enough, and the magic would have flooded her channels.” Tara flinched just thinking about the energy ripping through the unprepared witch. “I’m surprised she survived. That kind of magical overload easily would have ripped the lining in her channels.” The Slayer raised an eyebrow in question, and Tara explained further. “It would have been like exposing all of her magical nerve endings and pouring boiling water on them.”

“The accident happened because she was in too much pain to control the magic.” This time, the Slayer connected the dots on her own. “She wasn’t drunk on magic; she was trying to get away from Rack.”

“It’s a good working theory, Buffy. But that’s all it is.” Tara grabbed the blonde’s hand. “We don’t have time to wallow in guilt. If we’re right about any of this, then we have to help Willow learn to control the magic. That means finding someone who has enough power of their own to be safe in case she lashes out and well-trained enough to teach Willow how to manage the unleashed potential.”

“Is there anyone like that in Sunnydale?”

After running through a mental list of witches, Tara shook her head. “No one even close. The Hellmouth discourages most practitioners of White Magic. There’s too much temptation to tap into the raw energy in the area.”

“OK, then. I need to get home. I’ve got a phone call to make.” The Slayer smiled sadly. “It’s time to do some fence mending and hope Giles can forgive my being an ungrateful pain in his ass.”

CHAPTER 5

Buffy walked Tara home and then headed back across town. The Slayer was anxious to make the phone call to England, but knew she needed to do some thinking before picking up the phone. Cutting through Restview Cemetery, she revisited the conversation with the older witch.

“We kept telling her she had to stop ‘using,’ assuming she had a choice. Unfortunately, Willow didn’t have a choice. She wasn’t using external magical forces. The power flowed from her prematurely tapped power reserves. She couldn’t stop the flow because she didn’t know it was there.”

The blonde dropped into the wet grass, sitting with her back against a headstone and let the tears flow. No matter how many times she tried to tell herself Will’s magical struggles weren’t her fault, she didn’t believe it. No way should the young witch have tried the resurrection spell. What do I say to Giles? He’s the only one who might be able to help us. But he was so mad – no disappointed when he left. Buffy knew she had hurt her former Watcher when she told him to leave. She had simply wanted to be free, to learn how to be an adult. The request hadn’t come out right, though, and, in the end, she had told the man she loved like a father that he wasn’t needed anymore.

It took a long time for the tears to stop. Buffy knew she wasn’t done grieving, but she was just too tired for the gut wrenching emotion. Standing stiffly, she quickly left Restview for the dubious comforts of home.

Entering the house, Buffy thought fleetingly of crawling into bed. She was too tired for the sure to be emotional talk with Giles. Shaking her head to ward off Avoidance Buffy, the blonde forced herself into the kitchen and picked up the phone. She climbed onto a stool at the counter and punched in the international code and number for Giles’ home in England.

The ring sounded far away and echoed. Great. Not only do I get to grovel and explain just how much I’ve screwed things up, I get do it all on a bad connection. Finally, after a dozen hollow rings, someone picked up the line.

“Hello?” The cool British voice was female. Definitely not Giles.

“Um, hi. I’m looking for Rupert Giles.” Even after seven years, it felt funny to call her Watcher by his full name.

“May I ask who’s ringing?” the woman asked.

“Sure. Tell him it’s Buffy.” And hurry, before I chicken out and hang up.

There was a slight hesitation on the line. Then a quiet, “One moment, please.”

“Thanks,” Buffy muttered. Jamming the phone between ear and shoulder, the Slayer slumped over the counter. Eyes closed she drifted, just this side of awake, waiting for the anonymous woman to bring Giles to the phone.

The blonde was nearly asleep by the time the ex-Watcher spoke. “Buffy? Is everything alright?”

Nope. Got it in one, Giles. You know I wouldn’t call just to talk; gotta be something bad happening. “Hi, Giles. Um, no. I guess you were right. I’m not handling things very well on my own.” A sob tried to break free, but Buffy stubbornly fought it back.

“Tell me what’s happened,” he said.

The warmth and caring in his familiar voice dissolved her self control. The sob slipped free, followed by another. Choking the words out, the Slayer tried to explain. “It’s Will, Giles. Something happened to her when she did the resurrection spell. Tara thinks either some evil essence burrowed into her mind or she accidentally tapped into her magical potential and can’t control the power any more.”

“Good Lord. And Tara’s not sure which one actually happened?”

“No. When I talked to her last night, she said Willow had grown so powerful that she would have to consent to someone reading her aura. I…Giles…it gets worse,” Buffy continued.

She could tell by the silence on the line that the older man was restraining a pained sigh. “What else is happening, Buffy?” His voice was tight but controlled.

Buffy tried to answer, but couldn’t get the words out.

“My dear, I promise. I’ll do everything I can to help,” he said, sounding more like the father figure she needed. “Please, take a deep breath, and tell me what’s happening.”

“OK.” Buffy tried the deep breath. It helped – a little. “After the spell, Willow started relying on magic for everything. She used it to clean the house or get her laptop from her room. Tara tried to get her to stop, but Will just got mad. She was getting so powerful, Giles, it was scary. A couple of months ago, she did this spell. Tara called it the Tabula Rasa. Only something went wrong and we all lost our memories. When the spell was broken, Tara moved out. Will stayed here, but I was really angry. We all thought she was addicted to the magic and we wanted her to stop using.”

“Oh, dear,” came the often used phrase.

“Yeah. That about sums it up. We didn’t realize that she couldn’t stop the magic. And, Tara thinks Willow didn’t know either. She had some really freaky withdrawal symptoms and went to a local magic broker for help.” Buffy paused and swiped at the tears still streaming down her face. “I think that Rack – the broker – tried to tap into Will’s power and made widened the access to her potential. Tara said that could have ripped her channels open. Oh, God, Giles, I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t. But she got in an accident running from Rack and Dawnie got hurt. I lost it. I told her she had to move out.”

Now that the worst of the tale was out, the Slayer felt even more drained. It took all of her energy to hold the phone to her ear and wait for Giles’ response.

“Buffy, I can contact the Coven her in Devonshire. They’ll most likely have information on a witch who can help Willow.” His voice sounded hesitant as he then asked, “Would you like me to come to Sunnydale?”

For the first time since meeting with Tara, the blonde felt they just might be able to fix everything. “Yes. Please, Giles, I need you to come home.”

***

The knock at the door blended with the already-present pounding in her head. Trying not to breathe too heavily, Willow ignored the sound. Unfortunately, whoever was outside the door wasn’t smart enough to take the hint. The second knock was louder and longer than the first.

Slowly rolling out of bed, the groggy redhead stumbled across the room. Leaning against the wall, she pulled the door open and leveled a green glare at Kirstan. “What do you want?” she croaked.

“We start training this morning. You need to be out in the training shed in half an hour,” the tall woman said.

Willow laughed, until she realized it made her head hurt worse. “Sorry. Can we do it later? I’ve got a nasty migraine and just want to stay in bed until it’s gone.”

Her mother shrugged. “No. You’ll just have to ignore it. Jennifer told me what happened last night. You don’t have the luxury of waiting any more.”

“You’re joking, right? I mean, I can’t even stand up and you want me to go outside and let you pound on me? Not going to happen.” Pushing herself into a more or less upright position, Willow tried to close the door.

The retired Slayer easily kept the door from closing. “It is going to happen, Willow. Now, not later. So you can either get dressed and walk down on your own, or I’ll toss you over my shoulder and carry you down in your sleepwear.”

“Oh, for Goddess, sake. Just go away.” Willow couldn’t believe this was happening. Even Buffy was better than this. She just yelled a little and then went away to sulk. Keeping a tight reign on her temper, she drew herself to her full height. “I am only going to say this one time. I am so not going anywhere until this beastly headache is gone. I don’t want to be rude, but you’re out of your mind if you think I’d let you carry me anywhere.”

For just an instant, Willow thought Kirstan looked sad. However, she knew she had been mistaken when the brunette moved forward with Slayer speed and grabbed her around the waist. Before she could even feel surprised, the slight redhead found herself staring at her mother’s jeans-clad butt, bouncing with every step the woman took. The sudden motion combined with shock and anger left the usually verbose girl speechless. By the time she had regained the ability to form words, Kirstan was striding out the kitchen door toward a large barn.

Bright sunlight stabbed at Willow as she bounced against the older woman. “Oh, Goddess, please put me down. I’m going to be sick,” she moaned.

“Nope. I’ve helped raise four children – five, counting you. I’m not afraid of a little vomit. Besides, we’re almost there,” Kirstan said heartlessly.

The redhead didn’t respond, too busy trying to kept last night’s food and beverage from making an appearance. Sweat broke out all over her body as she fought her reaction to the bouncing and the light. After an eternity in hell, they entered the barn. Willow sighed in relief as the brightness dropped. Now, if only Kirstan would put her down.

Seconds later, she was reconsidering that idea. Her mother had removed her from the awkward position over her shoulder. But she hadn’t set Willow on her feet. Instead, she dropped her unceremoniously in a heap on the floor.

OK. I’ve had just about enough, Willow snarled inwardly. She gave the older woman one last chance to avoid conflict. “Kirstan, I know you and Jennifer want me to train. I get it. I do. I’m just not up to it right now. Give me a few hours to get rid of the headache and I promise I’ll come right back here.”

“I told you already. You aren’t going to postpone this,” came the implacable reply.

The recumbent witch almost growled. Fine. We’ll do this the hard way. Drawing power from the ground, Willow snapped her right hand up, pointing at the brunette. At the same time, she chanted quickly in Sumerian. White light arched from her hand toward her mother – and bounced off an unseen barrier.

“You didn’t really think I’d come unprepared?” Kirstan said as Willow looked on in shock.

CHAPTER 6

“Now, are you finished with the temper tantrum?” Kirstan stared impassively down at Willow. When the young witch didn’t answer, the ex-Slayer continued. “You’re biggest problem, daughter mine, is you have no discipline. You’ve been taking care of yourself for so long, you’ve forgotten how to let others care for you. That stops here. Jennifer and I are going to make sure you get this gift of yours under control.” She shrugged and dropped down to kneel next to the redhead. “It’s not going to be fun or easy. This morning is just a small taste of just how bad it will get.”

“Oh, goodie,” Willow responded sarcastically. “So, in an effort to whip me into shape, you’re going to put me through Wiccan Boot Camp?”

A reluctant smile touched the brunette’s lips. “If that’s what you want to call it. You are out of shape, physically and emotionally. It’s making it even harder for you to manage the power.” She touched the young girl’s arm. “Denise – sorry, Willow, if you don’t get all this taken care of, the power will consume you. I’m not about to let that happen without a fight. Even if that fight is with you.” She stood again. “Jennifer warded me against your magic. She started warding the barn as soon as we came in. Right now, magic won’t work in here. Unless you can take me physically, you’re stuck here until I’m finished with you.”

Climbing slowly to her feet, Willow glared at the taller woman. “I want to get control of my power. But this,” she gestured at the large, open facility, “isn’t necessary. Just give me some time; I can do this on my own.”

“That attitude could kill a lot of innocent people,” Kirstan replied.

“I’m not evil. I don’t go around committing random acts of violence,” the younger girl exclaimed. “Hello! Slayer for a best friend! I help stop the evil.”

“You used to. The amount of power running through you right now will eventually end in tragedy. It’s already responding to your thoughts and emotions. How else do you explain your trip to Sunnydale last night? You told Jennifer you were thinking about Buffy and in the next instant you were standing right next to her. What if, instead of just wishing you were with Buffy, you got mad and wished she were dead? What would happen then?”

“That would never happen!” Willow couldn’t believe what her mother was saying. Does she really believe I would ever do something like that?

“Let’s test that idea.” Kirstan grabbed Willow’s shirt and effortlessly tossed her across the room. The redhead landed on a pile of wrestling mats, but the impact still hurt. She tried to get up, but the ex-Slayer had followed her, and sent her flying back to her original spot in the center of the barn.

Nearly blind from the pain in her head, the novice witch vomited helplessly. Curling in on herself, she lay on the floor waiting for whatever came next.

“Given up already? How was it you helped the current Slayer?” Kirstan towered over her. “Get up. You don’t get to just quit. You have to want to control your abilities.” Closing her eyes, Willow tried to ignore the other woman. Unfortunately, the ex-Slayer wasn’t going away. The sick and by this point frightened redhead found herself dangling several inches off the floor thanks to her mother’s hand tangled in the cotton shirt she wore. “You’re nothing, kid. I’m surprised the Slayer even wanted you around. Let me guess, she took pity on you because you were so pathetic and she’s been protecting you ever since.”

With that one sentence, Kirstan verbalized a fear Willow had nursed since the night Buffy had saved her from being bitten. Fear seemed to wake the quiescent magic in her body. Knowing any form of arcane attack was useless against the heavily shielded brunette holding her, she tried to stuff the magic back into her power reservoir. Although the flow slowed, it didn’t stop. How the frilly heck do I stop this? The novice witch tried the mantra from the previous evening. It helped, but it wasn’t fast enough. The power build up was overshadowing her efforts at control. “Mom, put me down. Please, put me down and go.”

“You aren’t listening. I’m not going anywhere until you start trying to control your magic,” her mother replied.

“Damn it. I’m not talking about the fucking training. Right now you’re about to be on the receiving end of a magical Mack truck.” She took a deep breath and kept mentally chanting the mantra. “The shielding may hold and this might just bounce off. But it’s never been this bad before. I’m betting on it cutting right through whatever warding Jennifer used.” Willow felt her body start to shake in Kirstan’s grasp. She was sweating so heavily it dripped off her dangling hands. “I can’t –“ The warning broke off, becoming a hoarse scream as the power literally exploded out of the young girl.

Willow opened her eyes, peering through the blue wash of energy. Somehow, the ex-Slayer had managed to hang on, but she wouldn’t last for long. Already, the young witch felt her feet touch the floor, her mother’s fingers falling from her shirt. Where her power met Jennifer’s wards, silver sparks danced. She could faintly sense Jennifer’s power signature around Kirstan. It was weakening; it wasn’t strong enough to hold against the hurricane Willow had unleashed. She couldn’t let those wards fall. Closing her eyes again, the young witch abandoned the mantra. Reaching inside with ephemeral ‘hands,’ she shaped a dam out of the shattered remains of the barrier that had once contained her magical potential. Continuing to search for more mystical debris, Willow piled her newly constructed barricade at the widest part of the breach. There was an immediate drop in the magical energy slamming into Kirstan and the warding held.

Inside, though, Willow was still looking at the energy river pressing against the dam. It wasn’t a solid structure and power sluggishly oozed from the cracks in the materials. Anxiously, she waited, watching for the slightest give. Several minutes passed with nothing more than trickles of energy getting through. Letting go of her internal astral form, the witch opened tired green eyes. The barn had been mostly empty, but the few pieces of gym equipment had been thrown against the walls by the magical outpouring. Kirstan stood unsteadily in front of Willow, bleeding from shallow cuts caused when the redhead’s power had started to buckle the wards.

Wiping at the blood streaming from her nose, Willow said quietly, “Point taken. Can we do this training without all of the bullying now? The barrier I have up won’t hold under pressure.”

***

“It will take me a few days to get things settled here,” Giles answered Buffy’s heart felt plea.

With a tired laugh, Buffy said, “Giles, just knowing you’re coming home is enough right now. Is there something Tara and I should be doing until you get here?”

“I don’t think so, my dear. Until we know for sure what happened to Willow, you need to be cautious. If something did happen during the resurrection spell, we may very well be dealing with an ancient and powerful force.” There was a pause and the line crackled alarmingly.

“Giles, are you still there?” Buffy asked anxiously.

His voice very faint and garbled with static, Giles said, “Yes. I’m still on the line. I’ll start making arrangements to leave for Sunnydale by the end of the week. I can give Althenea a call today. If she has any contacts near to you, I’ll call immediately. Until you hear from me, I implore you not to confront Willow in any way.”

“OK, Giles. I don’t like the idea of leaving Will to deal with this on her own.” Buffy slid off the stool and grabbed a soda from the fridge. “I’ll make sure to let Dawn know what we’ve discussed. She’s had a better relationship with Willow than any of us these past weeks. I’ll try to get her to understand she needs to give Will some space.”

“That’s sounds like an excellent plan, Buffy. Now, you sound exhausted and it’s quite late there. Get some rest. I’ll call just as soon as I have information.” Giles was in full father mode, and the Slayer smiled just hearing the caring in his voice.

“OK, Giles. I’ll try.” She took a deep breath. “Thanks for always being there. I’ve really missed you.”

“And I, you, Buffy. Remember, I’ll always be by your side if that’s where you want me.” The faint voice sounded choked with emotion.

“Good night, Giles.” Buffy hung up the phone and headed for the stairs. She knew that she wouldn’t sleep even as tired as she felt. Since being back, all she got for her efforts were nightmares. She climbed the stairs and quietly opened the door to Dawn’s room. The younger Summers was sound asleep. Closing the door gently, Buffy returned to the first floor and wearily stretched out on the couch. She would rest here until Dawn got up. She didn’t want to miss warning her sister about the situation with Willow. Closing her eyes, the Slayer worked on relaxing her muscles one at a time.

***

When the telephone rang, Buffy shot off the couch, heart pounding. Breath ragged, thoughts scattered, she tried to make sense of where she was. The phone rang again.

“Hey, Buffy, are you going to answer that?” Dawn’s voice floated down the stairs.

The blonde staggered toward the kitchen. “Yeah, Dawnie. I’ve got it.” She grabbed the handset as a third ring sounded. “Hello?”

“Good morning, Buffy.” The warm British voice steadied her.

“Oh, hey, Giles.” She glanced around the kitchen. The clock read 7:30. “Were you able to get in touch with that friend of yours?”

“That’s why I’m calling.” Giles seemed hesitant and the Slayer felt a familiar sinking in her stomach.

Please, Giles, tell me there’s a way we can help Will. All this happened because of me. I don’t have to even say anything about how I feel, just, please, let me fix this, she pleaded silently. Aloud, she asked, “What did you find out?”

From the length of the pause that followed, Buffy knew her Watcher was trying to find a good way to phrase the news. “Well, there are a couple of things, Buffy. First, Althenea said there is a powerful and experienced witch living not far from Sunnydale.”

“That’s of the good, Giles,” Buffy interrupted. Her sense of impending doom increased. “But, I think you’re holding out on me. My Slayer senses are screaming. What new apocalyptic bad did you discover?”

A sighed traveled along the line. “Buffy, I don’t even know how to begin.”

“Just say it, Giles. After all this time, I don’t think sugar coating really helps. How bad is it likely to get?” Buffy gripped the handset until it creaked under the pressure.

“I was doing some research on magical possession in case something did, in fact, leave a mark on Willow.” Just get to the point, damn it, Giles, Buffy screamed in her mind. Giles continued at his own pace, though. “In one of the oldest volumes on the subject, I found several references to demonic possession as well as enhancing magical potential.”

Buffy couldn’t take it anymore. “Giles, please. Stop explaining how you found out. Just tell me what’s coming.”

“I don’t really know what’s coming, Buffy,” Giles said. “However, it appears Willow’s magical growth has been preordained. She’s part of a very ancient prophecy.”

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