CHAPTER 7

Shaking her head to get rid of the annoying buzz, Buffy said, “I’m sorry, Giles. Can you repeat that? For some reason, it sounded like you said Will’s part of a prophecy.”

The Watcher’s voice was quiet, but not because of the quality of international phone lines. “Buffy, my dear, when Willow performed the resurrection spell, she became a part of a very old prophecy. The records aren’t very clear on what exactly is foretold, but I am scouring the Council library to find even the smallest bit of information.”

It was too much. Buffy felt the world begin to fade, her vision narrowing to a single point of distant light. She was no longer aware of her body. Dimly, she heard a man’s voice talking, but his words didn’t make sense.

“Buffy?! Buffy!” The shout gave her a place to focus. The Slayer slowly forced back the darkness edging her vision. Dawn leaned against one of the stools at the counter, staring at her.

“Hang on a second, Giles,” she muttered into the handset. Buffy was glad for once to see her bratty sister. Having her name bellowed from just a few feet away kept the Slayer on her feet and not on the ground in a faint. “Yeah, Dawnie, what do you need?”

With her patented ‘you’re so dumb’ look firmly in place, the teen said, “Breakfast? I know you feel challenged in the kitchen, but I’ve had cereal for, like, the last 200 days in a row.”

The older Summers was far too tired and freaked out to waste any time on a response. “Sorry, Dawn. You’ll just have to eat it for the 201^st time. I’m on the phone with Giles.”

She nearly dropped the phone to grab her ears at the piercing shriek following her announcement. “Dawn, going deaf here. Turn the volume down!” Buffy shouted over the noise.

Glaring, Dawn ended the tonal sound and asked, “Can I talk to Giles, please?”

“Maybe next time, Dawnie.” Looking pointedly at the clock, she said, “Don’t you need to be at school in ten minutes?” Her sister flushed and mumbled something under her breath. “Don’t argue, Dawn. Just get ready and go already.” The Slayer’s voice was harsh.

“Whatever,” the younger girl snapped, flouncing out of the room.

Buffy dismissed her sister from her mind and got back to the business at hand. “Giles, sorry about the interruption. I missed that last part. What did you say?”

“My dear, perhaps I should fly out sooner than originally planned,” he responded.

“No, no, we’ll be OK for another few days. You said something about checking the Council records. What have you found so far?” Buffy needed to know.

Thanks to her Slayer hearing, Buffy could hear pages being turned through the phone line. “Not much, I’m afraid. There is a reference to a great Evil being unleashed into the world after a powerful witch open’s a gate to the heavens.”

“OK, so, Willow is the witch.” The blonde couldn’t quite make herself ask Giles if her best friend was actually the great Evil. “Does it say what this evil is or what it’s going to do?”

Her ex-Watcher sighed. “That’s not clearly stated. It’s a very old codex and not in the best shape. Much of the text relating to the prophecy is damaged and illegible. However, I do have a few remaining friends on the Council, and they are doing everything they can to help locate another copy or reference. Althenea is going to consult a seer in the area as well. We are doing everything possible, my dear. I assure you I am equally distressed that Willow may be in danger from this unnamed evil.”

“I never doubted it, Giles. Despite my habit of stuffing my feet in my mouth on a regular basis, I’ve always known you cared for all of us. Stay there and take the flight you’ve already scheduled. I’ll do a little scouting and research on my end. Keep in touch, though, in case either of us finds something.” Saying goodbye, Buffy closed the line, but did not return the phone to the wall. Tapping a finger against her lips, she debated for long minutes before dialing another number.

***

Keeping a hand pressed against her nose in an attempt to staunch the steady stream of blood, Willow waited for an answer to her question. Finally, it came, but not from the exhausted ex-Slayer in front of her. “I’m more certain than ever we can’t put off your training,” Jennifer announced from the doorway.

If she hadn’t been so tired and in so much pain, the young redhead might have considered screaming and stomping her feet in frustration. What was wrong with these people? She had agreed to the training before her astral trip to Sunnydale and her impromptu imitation of the comic book character Storm. Clamping down on the emotion and doing another spot check of the dam restraining her magic, Willow said, “For the last time, I am not refusing or resisting the idea of being trained. The opposite in fact. I’m begging you to help me. But do we really need to start this very second, when I can barely see from the reaction headache, blood is pouring from my nose, and I’m in my sleep clothes?”

Jennifer started to reply but Kirstan broke in. “Go ahead and get cleaned up. You had enough control to pull that last power explosion, so I don’t think we’re in immediate danger. You’re keeping an eye on whatever block you have on the energy?” Willow nodded. “OK. Then we meet back here in thirty minutes.”

It was too short a time in the young witch’s mind, but she didn’t believe for a second her parents would extend the break. Without a word, she slipped from the barn and trudged back to the house. Showering on auto-pilot allowed her the opportunity to examine just what had happened with Kirstan. Intellectually, Willow knew that Rack had somehow accelerated her magical growth. But magic didn’t really come with an owner’s manual. She could only hope that Jennifer and Kirstan would have some answers. Tossing on a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt, Willow rushed back out to the barn.

This time, entering the training facility was far less traumatic. Kirstan was cleaning up the last of the scattered equipment, but the young girl saw no sign of her other parent. “OK, I’m back. Where’s Jennifer?” she asked, still having a hard time calling two women ‘mom.’

“She went to tell Morgan and Drew not to disturb us. With all of us underfoot here at the ranch, it takes some doing to keep anyplace locked down.” Kirstan wiped some dirt off her cheek and sat down on a weight bench. “Before things get intense again, I wanted to apologize for earlier.”

Smiling slightly and relaxing, Willow said, “Guess I can let it slide this once. Just, don’t make a habit of it, OK? Me and mornings, not a good mix at the best of times.”

Kirstan’s green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Must run in the family. Jenny is a real bitch before her morning coffee.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Jennifer’s voice floated in from the door. “I seem to remember a certain Slayer whining like a three year old when she had to get up for morning classes.”

Willow watched the byplay with interest. The two women seemed very comfortable with themselves and each other. A memory of Tara stabbed at her and she frowned. A tingle of power tested the energy barrier.

Jennifer felt it, too, and glanced at her daughter sharply. “Willow? Everything OK?”

“OK? No. Under control? Yes.” The younger witch sighed quietly. The barrier was still holding though the cracks were widening. “Before you get all Drill Sergeant on me again, I think we need to talk. So far, you’ve seen me at my worst. I’m really not crazy all the time. I just need to understand what is happening to me and deal.” She looked shyly at the two women. “Plus, it would be nice to get to know you both better.”

The moment was heavy with emotion. Looking a bit teary-eyed, Kirstan cleared her throat. “We’d like that, too. And even though this morning was rough, Jenny and I want to help.” She grasped the older witch’s hand. “Let’s get comfortable and share some stories.” In companionable silence, the three women piled mats and foam pillows together, making a cozy nest a corner of the training facility.

When all of them were stretched out, Willow hesitantly started. “Although I’d love to let you do most of the talking, the barrier won’t last for more than a few days at most. Let me fill you in on what I ‘saw’ as I put it in place and we can go from there.” She shifted around, trying to decide just where to start and how much of the sordid story she wanted to tell. Lips twisting bitterly, the young witch knew is was time to tell the whole story. “I don’t know how much information you get from the Council, Kirstan, so I may repeat things you’re familiar with.” She flicked a glance at the two women. “Buffy died last year. Not really an odd occurrence for Slayers in general, and Buffy’s done it before. This time, though, she was permanently dead. I didn’t handle it well. She’d sacrificed herself to close a portal to a hell dimension and I couldn’t get past the fact that maybe she’d ended up in hell, too. Long story short, I bullied the other Scoobies into helping me find a way to resurrect her.”

She could feel Kirstan’s shock and Jennifer’s unease. “Whatever you’re imagining, the reality was worse. Tara, my ex-girlfriend, is a really powerful White witch. Even though she was against the whole thing, when I found a spell she helped me set up safeguards to keep the evil from getting a foothold in my mind. After Buffy had been dead for six months, I cast a resurrection spell using the Urn of Osiris. A lot of the incantation is a blur, but I do remember passing a bunch of magical tests. I willingly used Black Magic to give me the power base I needed to force Osiris to resurrect Buffy. It worked. She came back – a little different – but back. That’s when things got really wrong. I started to use magic for everything. I was addicted to the rush of the power.”

The redhead could feel tears streaming down her face and it was hard to get the words out. Sitting up and wrapping her arms around her knees, she forced herself to continue. “Tara told me I had to stop. I tried, but the withdrawal symptoms were so bad…She started really pushing, too, and it made me mad. We argued and I used a Tabula Rasa spell to wipe her memory. She found out, though. Now I had an ultimatum. Quit or lose her. I swore I would go cold turkey.” A harsh laugh ripped from her throat. “I didn’t even last a day. Only this time, I expanded the scope of the spell and used it on the whole gang. Big time problems happened. Tara left, Buffy freaked out, and this time I told myself that I would succeed in quitting magic.”

Wishing she’d thought to stock up on Kleenex, Willow mentally shrugged and used her shirt sleeve to mop up the tears and her runny nose. “I was doing OK, this time, but the withdrawal was intense. Nose bleeds, migraines, shakes, and the constant temptation to use the power I sensed in everything. I got desperate. A couple of weeks ago, I needed a fix and couldn’t ignore the pull. I went to a wizard in Sunnydale named Rack.” She shuddered as she remembered him taking over her mind, drawing at her power reserves. “He didn’t want to help me; he used me to fill his own reserves. I got away, but he did something when he was in my mind. Until this morning, I didn’t know what had happened.”

“Now you do?” Jennifer broke her silence to ask.

“I’ve got an idea, anyway. When I projected inward, I noticed there was a hole in the wall closing off my potential. Um, OK, not a hole. It looked like I’d used C4 to blow half of it away.” Willow struggled to find the words to explain. She glanced at her mother to see if she followed the description.

The older redhead nodded slowly. “So, you think Rack tore down the barrier and released your potential. That would explain the sudden, drastic growth in your power levels.”

Willow really wanted to stop right there, to let the other witch believe that was the problem. But she felt compelled to go on. “No, Jennifer,” she said, meeting the woman’s green eyes. “I knew Rack had tapped my potential and accelerated my magical growth. When I was grabbing debris to build the new barrier, I noticed that some of the rubble was older than my trip to Rack’s shop. I think he exploited a hole that was already there. I think something else started the destruction, probably during the resurrection spell.”

CHAPTER 8

It was quiet in the barn while the older women absorbed Willow’s last statement. Finally, Jennifer asked, “You think the original damage to your potential happened during the casting?”

“I think so. It’s not like I can carbon date the magical debris. It just felt a little like the power signature the Urn gave off.” Willow watched the older witch warily.

“OK,” her mother nodded. “Let’s start there. If, during the testing, something was able to sneak through the barriers, we’re dealing with two likely possibilities.”

“Possession and power drain,” the young girl offered.

Kirstan sat up. “You mean something could have taken over your mind without anyone knowing?” She looked angry.

“Yes. During a casting of that magnitude, an entire army of evil could have entered Willow and not set off any alarms. But, if she used wards, then the list of suspects gets a lot smaller.”

“Mom’s right, Kirstan.” She shot a quick look at the experienced witch. “The wards Tara helped me put up were strong. In fact, I didn’t honestly think there was any danger of anything getting by them.” Shrugging, the redhead said, “Obviously, I was wrong.”

Jennifer looked intently at her daughter. “We need to act fast to discover if there is anything still entwined in your mind, Willow.”

“Yeah, I kinda thought you might say that.” Having this woman, a stranger despite their blood tie, poking around in her mind knotted her stomach. But Willow didn’t have the luxury of refusal. The magic was far too strong and out of control to walk away. “If there isn’t anything there, can you also check for a residual signature? Just because there’s nothing there now, doesn’t mean it wasn’t there in the past.”

The older witch stood up. “We’re going to have to move this inside.”

“Let me guess,” Kirstan said, letting her wife drag her to her feet, “incense, candles, and mystical chanting?”

Jennifer chuckled; although, it sounded strained. “And a few more ritual activities, too. To be safe, I’m going to want to use the Altar Room since it’s already heavily shielded.”

Sick with dread, Willow barely hear the commentary. I wonder if I could use all my new power to turn back the clock and start today over again?

“Hey, kiddo, you gonna make me carry you out of here, too?” The ex-Slayer stood over her distracted daughter. “Willow? Is everything OK?” She noticed the young girl looked almost scared.

Pushing the dangerous thoughts out of her head before the untamed magic actually tried the maneuver, Willow replied, “No, I’m good.”

Kirstan gave a sharp laugh.

“Well, OK, ‘good’ might be an overstatement.” Willow climbed to her feet, the change in position causing the pounding in her head to worsen. “Let’s get this over with before I change my mind and run screaming through the front gate.”

The brunette grabbed the young witch in a gentle hug. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” Her voice was husky with emotion. “So very sorry. If I’d just been there-“

“Kirstan – Mom, don’t…This isn’t your fault.” The shorter girl said. She leaned into the strong arms, tilting her chin so she could meet the green eyes above her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. And, let’s put the blame where it really lies. I’m the one who thought Black Magic was fine as long at the results were well-intentioned. Tara and Giles tried to warn me, but I was too arrogant to listen.”

A weapons-roughened hand touched her cheek. “Still, the kidnapping should never have happened.”

This time, Willow provided the comfort by burying her face in Kirstan’s shirt and wrapping her arms tightly around the older woman. After a few minutes, she pulled away. “We should probably head inside.” Reluctance dripped from each word. “One run-in with impatient Hirsches is enough. Don’t let go, though, OK? I wasn’t completely kidding about the running thing.”

“Not going to happen, daughter mine. You’ve been supporting a Slayer; you aren’t a coward. And, if it all gets too much, Jenny and I have your back.” They turned to walk toward the house. “Given enough time to get to know you, Morgan, Dorian, and Drew will help out, too.”

Latching onto a less depressing subject, Willow asked, “Are all of my sisters witches, too?”

“Yes.” Kirstan sighed and then clarified. “They have the potential, but none of them is a practicing witch.”

“Are you disappointed?” The redhead thought about the Rosenbergs and their expectations.

“Oh, no.” The ex-Slayer sounded surprised. “Morgan is far too interested in her music and can’t commit to the demands of training with Jennifer. We gave her the basics when she was growing up, so she’s not a wild talent. Dorian has only a little potential. She’s content to work the ranch and help out wherever she can. And Drew is…well, she’s just Drew.”

“Hello? Newly-returned daughter here. What does that mean, exactly?” Willow asked as they entered the house.

Smacking the red head lightly in response to the sarcastic phrasing, the brunette said. “Drew is a double potential. She can’t make up her mind which Calling to answer. For now, she’s training in both, but eventually she’ll have to make a choice: Witch or Slayer.”

They had reached a semi-hidden doorway at the back of the house. Willow followed Kirstan through and began to descend the revealed staircase. “So Drew has double the normal potential? I don’t understand. And, how can she choose to be a Slayer, isn’t that sort of decided by the PTBs when the current Slayer dies?”

“I thought you said your best friend was a Slayer? Didn’t her Watcher explain that there are thousands of potential Slayers all over the world?”

***

Wonder if the DMP would hire me back part time? This month’s phone bill is going to be a doozy, the tired Slayer thought, waiting for someone to answer the call she’d made.

“Angel Investigations, we help the helpless,” chirped a familiar voice.

“Hey, Cordy. It’s Buffy. Can I talk to Angel?”

Silence.

“Cordy? I know you’re still there, I can hear you breathing.” Buffy fought to keep from snapping. “We’ve…There are some problems here I need to talk with Angel about. Is he there or not?”

“No, actually, he’s not here.” The Slayer cocked her head. The ex-Scooby sounded unbelievably exhausted.

“Everything OK? I mean, our Big Bad isn’t here yet, just on the way. I could drive up if you needed some extra muscle,” Buffy offered.

A warm chuckled rumbled over the line. “We’ve got the muscle covered. I’m not sure having you and Faith in the same location would help our situation.”

The blonde nearly dropped the phone. “Oh, my, God! Faith’s there? Is Angel going after her? I thought she was in prison.”

“Buffy,” the Seer’s voice said quietly, “I’d love to gossip and catch up on the current event, but I need to get back to work. Here’s the Reader’s Digest version. There a really creepy evil demon here. We made a bad call and summoned Angelus to help kill it. The vase-thingy we were holding Angel’s soul in was stolen. Now, we have Angelus and the other demon on the loose. Wes broke Faith out…Faith broke out of jail when Wes told her what was going on. She’s helping with the problems here.” The prom queen-turned-private investigator paused and Buffy could hear her talking to someone in the distance. “Hey, Wes wants to know if Willow can come out and do the Romanii Curse to restore Angel’s soul.”

Putting her back to the kitchen wall and sliding down to sit on the floor, the Slayer answered. “Sorry, Cordelia, Willow’s out of town right now.” Damn, I really wanted Angel’s help on this one, but they’ve got enough to deal with. Then another thought occurred. “You know, Will always kept a ‘get Angel’s soul back’ kit around here somewhere. I’ll talk to Tara; maybe she could drive to L.A. and do the spell.”

“Would you?” The Slayer thought the brunette was going to cry; her voice sounded choked with emotion.

“Sure. I’ll head over to her place in just a few minutes. Hey, umm, is Faith with you right now?”

Cordelia again pulled away from the phone. “Sorry, Buffy. Wes says she’s out crawling through the sewers looking for information. Do you want me to have her call you?” The Seer sounded hesitant.

Hell, I feel hesitant. The last time we ‘talked’ was on the roof of Angel’s office right before she turned herself in. Still, the Slayer felt driven to help Willow and defeat whatever evil was on its way. “Yes, please, Cordy. Tell her…tell her I really need her help, and I’m willing to do whatever groveling is necessary to convince her to come to Sunnydale when your Big Bad is taken down.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I mean, it is Faith we’re talking about,” the other woman replied, before ending the call.

The eldest Summers stayed huddled on the floor long after the call was over. Cold seeped into every part of her body. He mind moved sluggishly. Finally acknowledging that sitting in the kitchen wasn’t helping anything, she climbed to her feet. Thank God I requested a personal day for today. I would so have ended up fired if I’d gone to work. Forcing herself to action, Buffy walked up the stairs.

On leaden feet, she continued her trek into her mother’s old room – Willow’s room. Bare walls and a stripped bed greeted her entrance. She hadn’t thought about cleaning up in here since her best friend had moved out. With mental fingers crossed, the Slayer opened the closet door, hoping to find the redhead’s magic ‘toy box.’ Sure enough, the small wooden box sat abandoned on the shelf. Pulling it down and flipping the latch, Buffy glanced inside. Items had obviously been removed with haste as Willow packed, but the blonde recognized several pieces needed to incant the Curse. Closing the box with a sigh the Slayer made a mental list of things to do: talk Tara into going to help Angel; talk to Dawn about Willow; and do some information gathering on the coming evil.

CHAPTER 9

An hour later, Buffy jogged up the stairs of Tara’s residence hall. She’d spent the entire walk to the UC-Sunnydale campus practicing and discarding possible conversations with the blonde witch. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, the Slayer rapped sharply on the older girl’s door. Faint rumblings indicated someone was inside, but several minutes passed without anyone answering her knock. Trying again, Buffy called out, “Hey, Tara? I talked to Giles. Looks like the situation is even stranger than we thought.”

Finally, the door opened a crack. A woman who was not Tara peered through small opening. Eyes widening, the blonde cast a frantic look at the door. Yep, I’m at the right room. Fuck…”Hi, is Tara in?”

“She went to grab some breakfast.”

OK. Someone obviously doesn’t like mornings. “Um, alright. Thanks. I’ll just wait out here,” Buffy stammered. “Sorry if I woke you up.” She flashed a smile.

The tousled brunette grunted and slammed the door.

Shaking her head, the Slayer sat crossed legged against the wall to wait. The woman in Tara’s room was a complete surprise. A good surprise. The blonde witch was a definite rival if they managed to help Willow with her magic and fight off the new evil in town. Buffy did an internal happy dance and let her mind wander to thoughts of her favorite redhead. No matter her inner joy, the blonde couldn’t keep memories of the more recent past from darkening her mood. Images of happy, smiling, fuzzy-sweater wearing Willow disappeared in a wave of mental reruns of the last argument.

To stave off another round of “how could I be so stupid,” she shot to her feet and paced up and down the hall. Thankfully, mid mornings seemed to be a quiet time, and she only received a few strange looks from the handful of residents heading out for the day. The blonde was so focused on replaying her argument with her best friend she didn’t see Tara come out of the stairwell.

“Buffy? What are you doing out in the hallway?”

The Slayer spun quickly and dropped into a defensive stance at the unexpected question. Seeing the amused look in the witch’s eyes, she straightened slowly. “Damn, Tara. I could have really hurt you.”

The older girl dropped her head and hid behind her hair as usual when confronted. “I th-thought you knew I was th-there.” She peered at the other girl. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you in the hall?”

Blushing, Buffy said, “I knocked. Your guest didn’t seem too thrilled to see me.”

“My guest? Oh!” Tara started laughing. “Buffy, you thought –“

Nodding awkwardly, Buffy mumbled, “Um, yeah.”

Wrapping her free arm around the shorter girl, the witch steered her companion back toward her dorm room. “Sweetie, Paula’s a witch. We were up until really late trying to find someone in the area who could scan Willow.”

Buffy stopped in the middle of the hallway. “You told her about Will?”

“For Goddess sake, Buffy, no!” The normally shy blonde looked angry. “I just told her I needed to find someone to help me train and expand my powers. She’s got some great connections to the local covens.”

“Sorry, Tara. It’s just, I talked to Giles. There’s a lot I need to tell you.”

Staring at the suddenly very serious Slayer, the witch said, “OK. Let me drop off breakfast and let’s find someplace to talk.”

“Don’t you have class?”

“Hmmm, class or saving Willow?” Disbelief colored her next words. “How could you think for even one minute I would go to class if you had information?”

“I-,” Buffy hesitated. “Hell, Tara, I…Fuck. I’m sorry. The stuff Giles found out isn’t of the good and I’ve been kinda lacking with the coping skills.”

Frowning and looking concerned, Tara said, “Stay here, sweetie.” She unlocked and eased open the door to her room. Sliding through the narrow opening, the witch disappeared. Buffy could hear the rumble of conversation as she waited impatiently in the hallway, but didn’t make the effort to listen closely. A few minutes later, Tara reappeared and joined the Slayer on the other side of the door.

“Let’s take a walk, OK?” The older girl asked.

“Sure. I need to burn off some energy, anyway.” Buffy turned toward the stairs. “Were you and…um…Paula able to find anyone to help Will? ‘Cause Giles said someone named Althenea had given him a name, too.”

“No, we couldn’t find anyone I thought was strong enough,” Tara chuckled mirthlessly. “Paula thought I was crazy. I mean, all I told her was that I wanted a mentor. I don’t think she bought my explanations for why the witches she knew wouldn’t work.”

The witch tilted her head at the slightly distracted Slayer as the exited the building and headed away from the main portion of the campus. “Hey, Buffy, you OK?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Tara remained silent as they passed the last of the dorms and took the narrow trail leading into a wooded area surrounding the university. Finally, when the Slayer didn’t say anything more, the witch realized she would have to push for answers. “No, you’re not fine. You haven’t been fine since you closed the Portal.” Seeing the smaller blonde start to protest, she continued. “Do you eat anymore? Do you sleep? If we hadn’t all been so wrapped up in Willow, no one could have missed the changes in you.”

Buffy concentrated on her boots and fought back tears. “I’ve been trying to get back in the swing of things. But I’m not the one we need to worry about right now. We have to help Will.” The words came out too shrill; the Slayer was on the edge of a breakdown. Trying one of the meditation techniques Giles had taught her years ago, Buffy managed to regain some of her equilibrium. “Look, Tara, the situation is bad – maybe worse than Glory bad.”

“Oh, Goddess. What did Giles tell you?”

Stuffing her hands in her jeans pockets, the younger blonde explained, “Not much. He’s digging through the Council library, but he was able to find an old book or something. Will’s new powers are part of a prophecy.”

Tara stopped and simply looked at the Slayer. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope. This is so not a joke-worthy event. He said the book was damaged and hard to read, but he thinks something happened when you guys brought me back. Now, Willow’s all juiced up and there’s a really big evil on its way here.”

***

Willow’s foot missed the next stair in shock at her mother’s statement. “Kirstan, the Council knows who these girls are?”

“Of course.” She didn’t stop or turn around, simply tossing the words over shoulder. “What did your Slayer’s Watcher tell you about her Calling?”

“Um, the usual…You know: ‘One girl in all the world…’”

“That’s it? My Goddess. It’s a wonder she managed to survive this long. You, too.” The ex-Slayer reached the bottom and waited for the redhead to catch up. “The Potentials are carefully watched and screened by Watchers almost from birth. If there’s a Slayer in the area, they often have them begin training the girl – or girls – in how to use their eventual powers. Some of the kids won’t ever be Called; they’ll just grow up a little stronger and faster than most. Others are marked as Slayers in Training. Generally, the S.I.T.s don’t have a choice in vocation. Drew is being allowed to decide because her magical potential is almost as strong as her Slayer potential.”

Grasping Willow’s hand, the older woman drew her into a large open room with a low stone alter near the far wall. Candles blazed from every surface and real torches sputtered on the walls. “Oh, hey, you have your own dungeon,” the young witch said.

“Not, quite,” Jennifer greeted her with a hug. “This is my Altar Room.”

The younger witch asked, “Aren’t you Jewish?”

Kirstan laughed and Jennifer glared at her before shaking her head. “My parents were. I’m a witch and I am also Wiccan.”

Slowly putting two and two together, Willow said. “So, you took Jennifer’s name.” At Kirstan’s wink, the young girl giggled. “I could go to City Hall and make that explanation now. How in the world did you do it, what, 20 years ago?”

Jennifer interrupted before the ex-Slayer could respond. “It’s all part of the famous ‘how we met’ story.” Turning her daughter to face the altar, she said, “Right now, we have some work to do.”

Closing her eyes and swallowing against a sudden surge of nausea, Willow agreed. “Right. Sorry. What’s going to happen?”

“We’re throwing Kirstan out, first off. She can guard the door.” The young witch felt certain the brunette would be doing double duty – keeping people out of the Altar Room and any evil forces in. “I’ll cast a circle around the two of us and start incanting the spell. As you mother noted, it requires some ritual regulars like incense and chanting. But the actual search I’ll do of your mind and magical pathways is very straightforward. You will need to pull all of your shields down once the circle is cast.”

“OK.” Willow was surprised her voice still worked.

Jennifer’s voice sounded behind the younger redhead. “Can you head up the stairs, babe? Make sure the kids stay well away. And,” she hesitated slightly, “don’t forget the recognition signs.”

“Be careful.” The ex-Slayer sounded worried, but Willow heard soft footsteps leaving the chamber.

“Willow, go ahead and move to the center of the Circle,” Jennifer directed.

Reluctantly opening her eyes, Willow looked around. The floor of the chamber had a stone floor. Green glass had been inset into the stone, forming a permanent circle. She walked into the center and stood, waiting.

Her mother grabbed items from a small table and joined her inside the ring. Laying the tools on the Alter, the older witch bowed her head and murmured a prayer. She moved to the glass marking the very edges of the Circle and stopped. Raising her hands she began to chant in a language Willow didn’t recognize. Power shimmered along the inset design before rising in an unbroken curtain to the ceiling. Unlike the magic shielding with which the younger girl was familiar, the Circle Jennifer had cast looked solid. The young witch could not see through the waves of power surrounding her.

Motionless inside the Circle, she watched Jennifer return to the altar. The older redhead picked up a wooden bowl and an athame. Holding an item in each hand, the woman turned and paced silently toward her daughter. Stopping mere inches from Willow, Jennifer placed the bowl on the floor between their feet. Taking the younger witch’s right hand, turning it palm up, she sliced effortlessly through the skin with the double-edged blade. Squeezing firmly to increase the blood flow from the wound, the older woman held Willow’s hand over the wooden receptacle. The athame next marked Jennifer’s palm with a quickly widening line of red. She, too, held her palm over the bowl, mixing her blood with Willow’s.

Several minutes passed while Jennifer chanted and the bowl slowly filled with their offering. Finally, the older woman closed Willow’s hand into a fist. She turned and went back to the altar. When she returned, she held a small leather pouch. Loosening the tie on the pouch, the older redhead, bent and picked up the bowl. She poured the contents of the bag into the bowl. Light rose from the mixture, first white, then rapidly cycling through red, blue, and green. Jennifer raised the bowl over her head and chanted with slowly increasing volume. She was shouting as she finished the incantation. A magical wind swirled around them despite there sealed, subterranean location. Squinting against the whipping air and the brightening light from the bowl, Willow realized that the light wasn’t just emanating from the offering. A silver mist rose from the stone floor and wrapped around her lower legs. Every time Jennifer increased the volume of her chant, the mist rose higher. When Jennifer finished with a shouted, ‘So mote it be,” the mist covered the younger girl’s head. The mist was bitterly cold, invading her body. Shivering, unable to see or hear, Willow screamed soundlessly as a spear of power stabbed her mind.

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