The cavern was gone. Buffy found herself alone on a bare, rocky plain. The only thing on it: A huge forbidding-looking building with black walls. He's in there, thought Buffy, I can feel it. He's in there and he can't get out.

 

She entered. The entrance hall was enormous, with a dozen doorways leading down what looked like endless hallways.

 

"Giles?!"

 

The name echoed. No answer.

 

She headed down the first corridor. It led to an empty room, which led to another, and another, each as featureless as the last. Is that all it is, she thought, just a maze? How could that make him lose hope? Finally she reached an old, oaken door. It was half-opened.

 

She entered a room filled with old furniture and books. In the corner was a piano. The walls were covered in old photographs, and the windows looked out on a sunny garden. An English garden, she thought.

 

She studied the pictures. In some of them there was a man who looked like Giles, but not exactly. Besides, they were old photos, and the man looked almost as old as Giles was now, or older. Other pictures showed a little boy with tousled blond hair. Could it be...? Finally, she understood when she found a picture of the man and the boy together. They were smiling and happy. The caption under it read "Rupert and I on his 12th birthday."

 

Giles had told her so little about his childhood, only that he'd grown up knowing he had a duty to fulfill. Looking around the calm room, she thought about how hard it must have been for him to leave such a beautiful place, a place where he was happy and loved. But he had done it. She couldn't imagine anything stopping him from doing his duty. "Poor Giles," she said aloud, then realized with a pang that she had tried to stop him when he left Sunnydale.

 

The next door led to a long, dingy hallway, which ended on the entrance to a small, dingy room. In one corner was an electric guitar. In another was a stack of old vinyl albums, the same ones she'd seen in Giles' collection. Against the far wall was some kind of altar. With a shudder she recognized the insignia, the same one Ethan had once tattooed on her neck: The Mark of Eyghon. This is where it had happened. Buffy remembered the look on Giles' face and the tone of his voice when he told her how he'd killed an innocent man here. She hadn't understood then. How had he lived through it? She remembered the guilt and despair that she felt when she thought she'd killed Katrina. Is that what they were trying to make him feel?

 

She exited hurriedly and found herself among rows of strangely familiar bookshelves. There it was, the Sunnydale High library. For a moment, she was seized with a wave of nostalgia. She could almost see them: Willow at her computer terminal, Giles in his office, Xander, Oz, and Cordelia doing research. But just as quickly, she knew it was a lie. Sunnydale High was the opening to the Hellmouth, a place of suffering and death. It was a ruin now, and deserved to be. Giles would never linger there. Neither would she.

 

The next door was blocked, covered with yellow police tape. She pushed it aside and walked into Giles' house. The rose petals strewn on the stairs reminded her of the horrible surprise that was left for him upstairs. How had he lived here after, she wondered. Then the answer came to her: He'd come home to find the dead body of the person he loved most in the world. He'd gone on the same way she had: Because he had to.

 

She had to find him! She had to tell him she understood now! The next door was the most familiar of all. It was to her own living room, but she knew she wouldn't find him there. If she couldn't make him stay, Hell couldn't do it.

 

The final room wasn't familiar, nor was it furnished. But it wasn't empty, either. In the corner she saw a figure, sitting motionless.

 

*****

 

The trio stepped out from the shade of lone tree and stood in the middle of a dirt path, soaking it the warm sun.  For a moment ignoring the fact that regardless of the packaging, it was still hell.

 

“So, now what?” asked Anya, breaking the silence.

 

“We find the others,” said Willow.  “And then we get out of here.”

 

“Let’s start with the latter,” suggested Ethan

 

Anya opened her mouth to give Ethan what-for when Willow caught her eye, shaking her head slightly.  Willow turned toward him, giving him her best guileless smile.  “So which way would be out, Ethan?” 

 

He shrugged his shoulders, “How should I know?”

 

Anya huffed and rolled her eyes.  “You picked out this dimension; you should have some idea of how it operates.”

 

Rayne shook his head, trying to clear it. Then the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.  “Well, if only…” he said, running his thumb and forefinger along the now imperfect crease of his pants.  Then he brushed his pant leg, looked up and sighed.  “No, I shan’t indulge in what is not available.”

 

“What is it?” Willow asked.  “Maybe we can manage it.  Together we got out of the Heights of Hell.”  Her eyebrows arched in optimism.

 

“The blonde said you were a witch.”

 

“My name is Anya, thank you very much.”

 

Ethan gave her an indulging smile.  “So noted.  Anya said you were a witch.  But you weren’t the one to open the portal, so I am assuming you are not nearly as powerful as that mousy girl.”

 

“Her name’s Tara and I’m quite a powerful witch!” protested Willow.  Then with a tone of resignation tinged with bitterness she added, “Or at least I was until I had to give it up.”

 

A cloud passed in front of the sun and Ethan gave her a look of understanding.  “Ah, that is a tough break.  You try so hard to burn bright, only to be outshone by someone with… Now how did that demon guide put it?  With ‘a purity of intention, of character, of soul.’”  Ethan took in the pensive look on Willow’s face and continued.  “Even tougher when it’s someone you love.  You end up hating yourself for being jealous because true love shouldn’t have any room for jealousy, should it?”

 

“What would you know about it?   Let’s pick a direction and go,” snapped Willow.

 

He shrugged. “Oh, I might know a little bit about loving a serious, stuttering, duty-driven talent.  Someone with such a goodness of spirit that you’re haunted by the certainty that someday soon they’ll see through you and leave you, not even bothering to hide their disgust.”

 

On the horizon, clouds began to rolled and darken.  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and began to worry it.

 

*****

 

“It wasn’t funny the first time.”  Xander blew gently and moaned as he cradled his nose.  “Pig eating, VD, bug munching, and now punching bag. My life is complete.”

 

“Come on now, boy. Saved your skin didn’t it?” Spike’s voice held tones of laughter.

 

Harshly, Xander bit out, “Who asked you?  Why are you here anyway? Nobody asked you, dead man.”

 

Spike pulled out a cigarette, lit it and gazed at Xander through exhaled smoke. “I decided that my life wasn’t enough of a situation comedy.  Thought I needed a bunch of friends who just drop by and ask me to help investigate wacky adventures.  I’ve been sitting around asking: Why don’t my demon friends demonstrate heartfelt concern for my well being when I have problems? And then it hit me, who better than the infamous Scooby Gang? I could come to your rescue here in England and then you’d all be in my debt and I’d have myself a real bunch of genuine mates.” He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head daringly at Xander.

 

Quietly Dawn asked, “Why did you come Spike?”

 

Spike turned to face Dawn and found himself stilled into contemplation.  Why had he come?  Part of what he said to Xander was true, he hated being on the outside, hated being in stasis.  The other part, the part he couldn’t mention, was that he loved her.  The old cliché of wanting what was worst for you: A vampire loving The Slayer.  He should just stake himself where he stood, it’d be easier.  He looked at Dawn’s face; young, soft, doe-eyed, smudged with drying blood and found it impossible to lie. Softly he said, “I guess that when it comes to you and your sis, Bit, I get a little daft.”

 

Xander made a snuffling, gurgling sound and groaned again, “Remind me not to snort when my nose is broke.”

 

Dawn rounded on Xander and punched him again, this time in the ear.

 

“Ow!  What was that for?” He clutched his ear with his free hand, looking like a bloodied third-base coach.

 

“He only saved the woman you love and this is the thanks you give him?  Ridicule and spite?  You’re better than that Alexander Harris.”

 

Xander’s eyes widened at her in disbelief.  This enraged woman standing before him, hands on hips, fire in her eyes was not the whiny teen he knew as Dawn Summers.  He looked to Spike, who looked as shocked as he felt, and back to Dawn’s angry face.

 

“I… I… I just… he’s Spike.”  As if that was all the explanation necessary.

 

Enunciating each word she spoke with vigor, “Not good enough Xander.  He took care of me when Buffy died, and he helped watch over Sunnydale before you brought her back. He stopped her from dancing herself to a cinder, and he saved Anya from Drusilla. I think at the very least a ‘thank-you’ and a cease-fire are in order.”

 

Spike and Xander looked at each other and then back at the self-possessed, adamant young woman.

 

“If I do, will you promise not to hit me ever again?”

 

*****

 

Dawn turned and headed for the tunnel, not bothering to see if the two walking testicles were following her.  Walking through the arch, she was surprised to find an open cavern instead of the passageway where they had been chased by the demons. More surprising was finding Tara and Skip standing in the middle of it.

 

Dawn ran straight for them shouting, “Tara! Tara!” and then she slammed violently backwards into the floor five feet from her goal.  Xander dashed to her side as she tried to regain her breath and shook her head to clear it of all the pretty colors.  Xander checked gingerly for obvious signs of damage while Spike hung back, surveying the situation.

 

Reassuring himself first, Xander whispered, “She’s all right.” Then while awkwardly patting her forehead he told Dawn, “You’re all right.” And finally, loudly, “She’s all right.”

 

“Good,” was Spike’s terse reply as he cautiously approached the duo and whatever had stopped Dawn’s sprint.

 

Tara and Skip had begun what seemed to be a serious conversation as Tara shook her head and covered her face with her hands.  Skip’s shoulders visibly drooped and one large, armored arm patted her awkwardly on the back.  They were apparently oblivious of the mysterious boundary and the happenings on the other side of it.

 

Spike reached out to test the area where Dawn had met with resistance and found… nothing.  However, he was a bit unnerved to find that his hand and part of his forearm had disappeared.  He jerked his hand back and was relieved to see it still intact at the end of his duster.  He flexed it and found no nasty after effects.  He scanned the barrier again.  Invisible from both sides?  It was from this side anyway. He looked at the other side; Beauty and the Beast couldn’t see them, so… he stepped through. 

 

*****

 

Tara was weeping quietly into her hands as Skip tried to do something, anything to get her to stop.  He really wasn’t good with weeping women.  His own wife drove him to distraction when she turned on the tears… of course her tears were made of fire, so a little more hazardous and alarming than these human tears.  “It’ll be much better… soon… I’m sure.  We’ll catch up with everyone, and find our way out and…” Skip trailed off as he sensed someone else in the vicinity.  Looking up, he saw the vampire who had associated himself with this unlikely band of crusaders.

 

“What’s wrong with the skirt?  Someone take her magic wand?” Spike swaggered up to the couple.

 

Tara’s head rose suddenly and she made a few quick swipes at her eyes between sniffs. “Where did you come from?”

 

Pointing in the direction he came, Spike said, “Walked through the wall.”

 

“You what?” Skip and Tara voiced their disbelief simultaneously.

 

“I... walked… through… the… wall.” Spike emphasized each word as if speaking to three year olds.

 

Skip walked over to the seemingly solid stone face, and tentatively reached out to it.  His hand encountered no stone surface, just more air.  He was a bit disconcerted by the tips of his finger disappearing and jerked his hand back quickly.  “Weirdness always starts at home… damn hell dimensions.”

 

Lighting another cigarette, Spike exhaled, “Bit and the boy are on the other side.  Dawn tried to run to you when she saw you, but encountered a blockade.  Funny thing, I went right through, and so did Skip.  Maybe you’ve got to be a demon…”

 

“But that means they’re trapped over there!” Tara’s voice held an edge of panic.

 

“No, I’ve got an idea.  Come here, girl.”  Skip motioned for Tara to join him by the wall.

 

When she arrived, Skip picked her up, eliciting a quiet squeak of shock and walked through the stone with her.  Grinning, Spike followed.

 

*****

 

When Giles looked up from the corner of the chamber he'd been taking refuge in, he knew better than to react to the approaching figure. Occasionally a genuine demon would attack him, but usually they were just apparitions sent to torment him, all in the form of people he knew. He knew they were modeled from his memories, as they looked exactly as they did when he pictured them for himself. The only way he could still tell the difference was the expressions on them: Leering, mocking, laughing. Damned unoriginal, he thought, but they wore him down anyway: His father, chiding him for his rebelliousness; Jenny, always at the head of all those he had been unable to save; Joyce, berating him for taking her daughter away from her; Ethan... Ethan! He was sure he was behind all this, and found himself grateful for his appearances. The anger it roused in him was the only thing that kept him from hopelessness.

 

This was no demon, but it wasn't the face of anyone he knew. Strange, he thought, it looks so much like... but, no, he knew her apparition well. It was bitter, rebuking him for leaving when she needed him, telling him all that had gone wrong in his absence. No, it wasn't her. This woman was older. Yet it didn't approach him as the others did. It walked toward him slowly, tentatively. As he tried to focus, he could see she was trembling with emotion, tears streaming down her face. She was upon him now, reaching for him, and as she put her arms around him, he could feel her begin to sob. Was it possible? He pulled himself back so he could see her face, and he knew it wasn't a wish or demonic delusion.

 

"Buffy?"

 

"Giles! Giles, are you OK?" Strong arms wrapped around him, threatening to cut off his breathing but he didn't care.

 

"Buffy," he wheezed, "is that really you?"

 

"All me and only me." She released her hold on him, and saw the worry and doubt. "Wassup, doc?"

 

Giles studied her face, then abruptly turned away. "No, no you can't be her! You're another one of those bloody apparitions they send to torture me!"

 

"No, Giles it is me." She grabbed his face, trying to make him look at her. "I know what they've done to you. I've been through those rooms."

 

He still refused to meet her gaze. That she saw those rooms, all those scenes of his loss and despair..."No, you can't have seen them," he whispered, "You couldn't understand..."

 

"No, you don't understand," she said. "I don't mean those rooms down here, I mean the originals. I've been through those rooms, too, that is, my own version."

 

Giles turned to look at her. She hesitated. "That's why you left. I understand that now, too. You knew I had to go through it alone."

 

"But I was wrong!" he said. "We can't fight these things on our own. Look at me. I'm trapped here. I need help..."

Buffy shook her head. "Monsters, demons, hell dimensions, there's lots of things we need help with. But some stuff you can only get through by figuring it out for yourself."

 

"But I could have been there for you, I could have helped..."

 

"Maybe. But it wouldn't have been any easier."

 

Giles managed a faint smile, both proud and tender. "Buffy, it is you, isn't it?"

 

Buffy flashed a grin. "Damn straight it's me. And don't go arguing with me when I'm the one giving you the lesson.” Buffy glared down at him and spoke in a mock-British accent.  "Listen, young lady, you have a duty to do, a sacred job like none other..."  She whipped off an imaginary pair of glasses, and they both convulsed laughter, the sound Hell hates most.  “Otherwise, the next time you're sucked into Hell I might not come to get you out." She looked around the room. "Assuming we can get out.  C'mon, let's find the others."

 

"Others?" Giles asked. "Who else is here?"

 

Buffy held him up as they walked down a quiet hallway. "The whole gang - Will, Xander, Tara, Spike, Anya..."  She looked a little sheepish and said quietly, "Dawn." At the look on his face, she protested, "I didn't want to but she had to come. She was the Key," Buffy placed extra emphasis on the word, "to our getting in. "Oh, and I almost forgot. The whole reason we're all here. Your buddy Ethan. He's here too. Somewhere."

 

She looked at what seemed a likely door and punched it open. It was not the right door.

 

*****

 

Ethan breezed ahead, appearing oblivious to Willow’s anxiety.  “We should pick a direction.  I really have no sense of which way to go. Which way do you ladies prefer?” 

 

His smile made Anya’s skin crawl.  She couldn’t believe some unhappy lover hadn’t wished him into hell long before this.  “Well, my intuition tells me we should go right.”

 

“Then we should go left,” said Willow.

 

“Why do you always assume I’m wrong?” demanded Anya.

 

Willow tried to pull herself out of her daze.  “Oh.  I mean.  Well, last time you followed your intuition didn’t you think you were engaged to Giles and end up surrounded by bunnies and arguing with him?”

 

“Well yes, but that was due to you abusing magic.  Again.”

 

Rayne began walking to the left.  “So why did you think you were engaged to Rupert?”

 

“It’s a long story,” said Willow, falling into step.

 

“Willow wanted a short cut to make everything better and used a forgetfulness spell, which not surprisingly went awry and put us all in danger.  That’s why Tara left her.  See, that wasn’t so long.”

 

“Gee thanks Anya,” said Willow, her voice dripped with sarcasm.  “I really wanted to share those details with him.”

 

Ethan waved it off.  “Oh, no worries.  I have done far worse.  But I don’t see why memory loss made you think you were engaged to Ripper.”  He gave Anya another skin crawling smile.  “Unless there was an unconscious attraction that drew you to each other.”

 

“Oh no,” Anya denied.  “I was engaged to Xander.  He’s the one I’m attracted to.  I just got confused.”

 

“So when’s the big date?”

 

“Big date?”  Anya looked startled.  “Giles and I are not going on any sort of date, let along a big one.”

 

Willow looked at her curiously.  “He meant the wedding, Anya.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“The wedding was a couple of weeks ago,” explained Will.

 

“Then congratulations!” he said, patting Anya on the back.  She blinked rapidly and walked faster, pulling away from them.  When they caught up with her, Ethan spoke up. “I take it the marriage didn’t come to fruition?  It was Rupert, wasn’t it?”

 

“No! It had nothing to do with him! Let go of your obsession with Rupert before I slap you!” Anya shouted.  “Xander changed his mind about wanting to marry me.  I tried to be what he wanted.  He just couldn’t accept that I’d been a Vengeance Demon.  He’d probably burst a blood vessel if I went back to it.”

“Funny, I wouldn’t have guessed you ladies would have so much in common.  Both trying to please your lovers,” Ethan said with a sigh, “but your best is never good enough.” 

 

“He doesn’t have a point there, does he?” Willow asked.

 

Anya tipped her head slightly to side.  “He does.  Well, other than Xander thinks you walk on water.  Which is completely unfair.”

 

“No.  That’s not… I mean… he… I… well it’s different.  We’re, we’re childhood chummies.”

 

“Exactly!  You’re his best friend.  I wanted to be his best friend.  He was my best friend.  Is. Was.  Was!” wailed Anya.

 

“Ladies! You are missing the point,” interjected Ethan, pausing to note the light sinking into the cloudy horizon.  His voice took on a silkiness.  “Here’s a little advice.”  Willow and Anya looked at him dubiously.  He smiled and held his hands up.  “Do with it what you want.”  They nodded and he continued.  “Just be yourselves.  Follow your desires and do what feels good.  Let your relationships spring from that.  Trust me, it’s so much easier.  Besides, if they can’t love all of you, do they really love you at all?  You,” he said, pointing at Anya.  “If you want to return to vengeance work, do it.”

 

“Well, D’Hoffryn was very supportive of my choices both before and after my career ended.”

 

“And you,” he said, pointing at Willow.  “If you want to do magic, do it.  It’s nearly criminal to keep such a gift hidden under a bushel.”  He smiled conspiratorially at her.  “Besides, it’s heady, is it not?”  She nodded and her fingers twitched involuntarily.  She clasped them together, trying to keep control.  “Now there is this nice, little locator spell I know.  And if you did it, I bet we could find the portal, your little friends and,” he sighed. “Ripper too.”

 

“So if it’s a nice spell that means it’s white magic, right?”

 

“Right and so small that if you didn’t like the feel of it, you wouldn’t need to proceed any further.”

 

“And a tinsy tiny spell that would help out Giles, that would be not so bad, right?”

 

“No!” said Anya.

 

“What was that?” asked Ethan, snapping his head around.

 

“No.  He’s doing this purposely, Willow.  He’s preying on our weaknesses.  Remember what Skip told us?”

 

Ethan protested, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I have nothing but our best interests at heart.”

 

“Your best interests, maybe,” said Willow.  She wagged her finger at him.  “You really are a bad, bad man.”

 

“And we’re not listening to you anymore,” said Anya.  She linked arms with Willow.

 

“Yeah,” agreed Willow as she gave Anya’s arm a squeeze. “What made you realize that he was up to something?”

 

“I remembered what Olivia told me the other day about pain and life and growth and vengeance,” she replied as they stepped off the path into the grass

 

Ethan looked at the women and frowned.  “Oh, bother.”

 

*****

 

Giles peered at the menacing shapes approaching. "Actually," he muttered, thinking of what he had just been through, "this is better. Not good, not good at all, but much, much better." He glanced around the room, looking for weapons, and moved toward the torches burning on the wall.

 

The light didn't help.  There were four demons in the room and more were forming on the slimy walls.  The demons were humanoid, with oozy patches of hair in rather grotesque spots.

 

Giles reached for a torch and pulled it from its sconce.  A demon came up on his left side -- he swung at the fiend, but it blocked with its hand and Giles' fist sunk into the demon's palm with a wet splat.  It punched Giles in the shoulder, knocking loose the torch and it skittered over the rough stone floor.

 

The other three demons were spread out in front of Buffy.  One grabbed her left arm, another her right.  They pulled and she winced from the pain. They pulled again and the third monster extended its long black claws, pushed its arm forward, slowly reaching toward her heart.

 

*****

 

Skip was fascinated but a little annoyed with Spike.  He saw so much of himself in the leather-clad demon.  He couldn't help laughing to himself about how he used to "dress cool" and the smoking.  Well, if he were honest, the chain-smoking.  Falling for his wife put an end to all that.  Skip took another deep breath.  This one smelled like his wife.

 

Tara was too polite to mention that Skip was sniffing her.  It made her a little uneasy but for some reason the uneasy was fleeting.  She drew comfort from Skip, she wasn't sure why.  He was a demon, he hinted that he had a checkered past but still she felt... safe.  There was a voice in her head that said that he would hold this dimension up and shake it before any harm came to them.  Another voice from deeper inside told her that she would have to command him to do that before he would.  "Command."  There was that fleeting unease again; maybe it wasn't the deep breathing from the tall well-muscled demon. She tried not to think how close to a Princess and Knight the casting of herself as Glenda the Good Witch and Skip's role as the Tin Woodsman had come.

 

Dawn clasped Tara's hand a bit more tightly.  The girl always seemed to know when she was not at the forefront of someone's thoughts.  "Where do we go from here?"

 

Tara turned to look at the others.  She was surprised and frightened to find them looking at her.  Xander was the logical choice to lead them.  Wasn't he the only original member of the Scooby Gang present?  Shouldn't he be at the helm?  Why were they staring at her?

 

Spike spoke up.  Letting his cigarette hand flick toward Xander, he said, "This one will claim it was because he is injured.  And he is injured, but it has more to do with his busted wedding than his busted nose."  The hand moved toward Dawn, "The Bit is the Bit.  The brass is there but she isn't really ready to take on the mantle.  Platelet still likes her knee socks better than her sister's thigh highs."   The hand complete with the glowing butt touched his own chest, "I am evil."  He said this with just a touch too much relish.  The hand moved in the direction of their new friend Skip, "That one obviously worships you and is waiting for orders.  I doubt that he is here for the Librarian.  So, what's it gonna be?"

 

Tara knew that more often than he cared to, Spike spoke the truth.  She didn't argue.  Sighing to release the breath she had been holding, she turned to Skip.  "Any thoughts about a direction?"  Tara quaked just a little when Skip lowered his eyes and shook his head no.  She touched his shoulder and directed the question to the rest of the group, "Does anyone have any impression?  It could be anything did you see or hear anything that was out of place?  That maybe gave you the slightest bit of comfort?"  They were all shaking their heads no but Tara noticed a fleeting smile in Xander's eyes. "What is it Xander?"

 

His questioning look was never given a voice.  Tara stepped near to him and as she did he understood what she was asking.  When she touched him, he answered, "I just saw a bright yellow flash of sunlight when you and Skip stepped through the portal.  It was strange it seemed to come from above the entry.  It made me smile because it was the exact color of Anya's hair."  Tara smiled broadly, the warmth of her smile pulling an answering smile from Xander.  He felt the pain in his nose lessen dramatically.  Tara turned her smiling eyes toward the area above the view of the illusion she and Skip had just left.

 

Spike moved to stand beside her. "Right then, shall I lift you up?"

 

Tara said, “No… better that Skip lifts you up.  We need a demon to cross into the next dimension.  Skip will lift you up.  Then he will lift each of us up to you, then we as a group will lift Skip.  Okay?"  She said this only turning to look at them on the last word.

 

Sighing again, Tara placed a hand on Spike's shoulder and said, "Please be careful.  There may be dangers there."  Spike shrugged and held back the flip response.  Skip was in position and lifted Spike almost gently.  Spike reached out and was not surprised to find that he could move into a totally different reality.

 

*****

 

The new setting was dark.  Darker even than the place they were leaving.  Spike wondered at that.  Tara and Skip had been dropped into a lighted place.  He, the Bit and the boy had been dropped into a total fantasy that was laced with danger but still wasn't menacing like this.  The answers had been simple to arrive at and had been a part of them.  It was natural for Xander to doubt himself and with help from his friends realize his potential.  It was natural for Dawn to see the power that lay around her and unlock it.  It was natural for him to protect Dawn and manage to entertain himself doing it.  But this, this was a place truly of hell.  He wasn't sure he wanted Dawn here.  He was sure it wasn't his decision.  "Damn."  He turned back the way he had come and lay down on the ground.  He moved foreword in a serpentine fashion until his upper body was in the previous reality.  He looked down at Tara.  "It is not a pretty place. We have to move quickly.  Send Xander up first.  He will be the look out while we get the lot of you up here."

 

*****

 

They had begun their search for Anya.  Tara was sure that Anya was in this place.  She wasn't sure why.  Spike was right about the character of the surroundings they had been dropped into.  Why would Anya be in a place like this?  They could hear the howling, wailing really of pain and despair in the distance.  The sky was dark and encroaching.  The clouds acting like fresh blood dripping from the wounds of the intermittent slashes of lightning.  Spike had broken off a branch from one of the twisted and tortured forms that passed as trees and set it a blaze.  This lighted their way.  Xander, upon hearing Spike's theory of the illusions they had to endure had grown silent and brooded more deeply with each step.

 

Dawn said, "What if Anya isn't alone?"  Xander stiffened but did not interrupt. "What if she was left here with someone else?  We aren't finding her because this isn't really a place for her.  She was just caught up in someone else's torment?"

 

They all thought it but Xander is the one that said, "Rayne!"

 

"Right, but how do we get a bead on him?  We, none of us have a connection to him.  What do we know about him?  Where would he go?  There are two distinct paths here.  One leads up and one leads down."  Spike's question hit home.

 

Xander spat out, "We go down."

 

Spike asked without the usual glib tone, "Why?"

 

Xander moving toward the dark and sinister plains in the distance replied, "Anya and I spent too much time making fun of the dumb blondes in horror movies always running up to get away.  She would not follow that Bastard up a mountain.  Besides, you saw the shoes she was wearing.  She's not climbing anything."

 

*****