In the end, the plan was pretty simple – although the execution of it was going to be hazardous and the eventual outcome uncertain to say the least. They needed more information before any of them blindly stumbled through the open portal, and that was their first, and best defined goal – after that, planning would have to go hand in hand with action, since there would be no time to regroup or discuss options.

"So why change the habits of a lifetime?" Iolaus had asked with a grin as his partner had grimly reviewed that particular point. Xander had given him a very worried look, and Buffy had had to fight down the desire to burst out laughing. She knew what the rest of her friends did not – that the compact, golden haired demon hunter had a trick or two up his sleeve, and that if anyone had a chance of dealing with the Malumbra, he was the most likely candidate.

It felt a little odd, crouching there and letting someone else take command of things. She was the Slayer. This was her territory – and yet she’d deferred to the son of Zeus without so much as a murmur of protest. Maybe it had been the way he’d deferred to her – treating her as the commander on the ground, consulting with her while he made his assessment and his decisions. Or maybe it was because she knew – deep down inside – that there was much more on the line here than a matter of pride or provenance.

Spike was decidedly unhappy about the whole arrangement, and kept muttering to himself about it. Hercules had looked a little disconcerted when she’d introduced him: a look had gone between the demi-god and his guardian angel that spoke volumes. But neither of them had questioned the vampire’s right to be part of the group, accepting Buffy’s word that he was on their side and adjusting the plan to take account of his particular abilities.

His weaknesses too.

The chief weapon against the Malumbra, they’d said, was light. Since Cordwain Metcalfe had managed to active the Eye of Harmony before they’d tracked him down, they’d needed to consult with oracular sources in order to identify exactly what it was he’d unleashed on the world. Old and cold, had been the answer, which didn’t seem much when it had needed a hero to go to the edges of Tarterus in order to collect it. Dark and despairing. Give them what they crave, and can never have. Show them what they were and fear to be again.

"Which is why we brought this," Hercules explained, half lifting a sealed box out of his jacket pocket before pushing it down again. "But we can’t use it this side of the portal. We’ll have to make do with what we have. Willow – can you and Tara summon us a light? It doesn’t have to be too bright – just enough to weaken and disorientate them."

Willow nodded, glancing at her girlfriend for confirmation. Tara’s answer was just as confident. "We can do that," she said. "Right over the crypt."

"And maintain it?"

"Like a star," Willow announced determinedly. "A beacon to light you home again."

"Oh plu-ease," Spike muttered, rolling his eyes. "What good is that going to do? If they are scared of bright lights, they’re just going to escape through the portal and you’ll have to deal with them on the other side."

"That’s the idea," Iolaus grinned. "We think we can deal with them once we get them home again. But we need to grab Metcalfe and get some answers before we go knocking on the door. Preferably not from a pile of dust," he added, looking pointedly at Buffy, who had the grace to blush.

"No Mr Pointy," she noted. "I can do that."

"If you mean the big mean vampire with the long fingernails," Xander said, taking a quick glance over the hedge to check his facts, "I don’t think he’s entirely a volunteer. Have you seen his eyes? They’re – ah – red and glowy."

"A possessed vampire," Spike mumbled unenthusiastically. "Whoop di do. This is crazy. Even if you could grab hold of him, the damn Malumbra that’s got him ain’t gonna talk. It ain’t gonna let go, either – unless it’s sneaking it’s shadowy fingers into one of us, that is."

"That’s not going to happen," Hercules said with confidence. "Buffy and I will contain him. The bracelet we gave her will protect her from any possession attempt."

"Uh - " Xander interjected worriedly. "You got one too? ‘Cos I don’t think letting it get into you would be a good idea."

"He has a point, Herc," Iolaus pointed out, amused by the look that chased across his partner’s face. "Might be better if I did it. Besides – I can probably persuade it to abandoned Metcalfe. Hopefully without hurting him too much."

Hercules nodded, but he didn’t look entirely happy about the deal. "If you’re sure," he said. "You know we’re going to need you once we – "

"I’m sure," was the instant reply. "I can handle one of them, Herc. Let’s worry about what happens in there once we get there, okay?"

The son of Zeus put out his hand and clasped his partner warmly on the shoulder. "Okay. And thanks. I appreciate it."

"I know," Iolaus grinned back at him. "That’s why I keep hanging around."

"Guys," Buffy suggested anxiously. "The whole Butch and Sundance bit is pretty cool, but – Giles? He’s been in there for hours."

"Days," Hercules corrected, after the briefest of hesitations.

She stared at him. "What?"

"Days. The oracle said – five to one, hours are done. Time passes faster in there than it does out here."

"Oh, well that’s it then," Spike decided bluntly. "He’s toast, we’re wasting our time, and – god, Buffy, love, don’t look at me like that. I’m just being realistic here."

"I don’t want to hear it." Buffy had gone sick to the stomach. The anxiety she’d carried all day had bundled itself up and slapped her hard in the guts. She been trying not to think about what Giles might be facing, focusing herself on the mission, on the we’re coming, just hang on message that she wanted to send with all her heart. But - days!

She’d sent Angel to a hell dimension, in which a hundred years had passed in the blink of an eye. Why hadn’t she remembered that? Why hadn’t she realised …

Angel had come back practically an animal, his mind pushed to the limit, his soul tormented beyond all imagining. It had taken a long, long time to regain his trust and restore his sanity. And he was a vampire, albeit one with a mortal soul.

Giles was just a man. A gentle, forthright, honest man. With maybe a bit more steel than might be thought lurking beneath his scholarly exterior, and perhaps a bit of a wild past with a history of renegade rebellion – but all his strength and quiet resolve wouldn’t be much of a defence if the Malumbra were typical of what lay behind that shadowy door.

"We go – now," she said, her voice tight and her body rigid with determination. "We’ve been talking too long." Hercules nodded, agreeing with her judgement; he touched Willow on the shoulder and the two witches moved off to take up their places beneath a nearby oak tree. Spike, grimacing a little, got to his feet and followed them. He had orders to take the rear-guard, watching over the spell casters and keeping them safe as best he could. He paused for a moment, looking across at Buffy with a odd look in his eyes.

"Hey – Slayer? Do me a favour. Come back. Things got kinda quiet without you here."

She nodded, abstractedly. She knew how Spike felt about her – and she knew that the way she felt was something she had to examine pretty deeply, and pretty soon. But right now her thoughts were a long way from the lovesick vampire and his personal demons. She had a real demon to face – and she had to be ready for it.

Xander watched Spike go with a vague maybe I could be doing that look in his eyes, barely noticing as Iolaus thrust his fabric covered bundle into his hands. "Torches," the hunter told him, softly slapping the young man’s shoulder to get his attention. "And a couple of other weapons. Hang onto them." Xander glanced down at the bundle, nodded, then firmly gathered his crumbling resolution and loped after the demi-god, who’d set off into the dark. Buffy’s eyes strayed – inevitably – to the lived-in, impish face that lurked beneath its owner’s tumble of golden curls. "There is hope, isn’t there," she said, making it a challenge, knowing that - if he shook his head, if his eyes denied the question – then she would tear apart, inside.

Iolaus gave her a sympathetic look. "There’s always hope, Buffy," he told her, with the confidence of someone who’d been there to know. "Even in the darkest places. Hang on to it hard enough and you’ll never lose it." He paused, mentally counting the paces as his partner circled into place. "You really care about this guy, don’t you?"

Care about him? She was about to face down an entire army of creatures that oozed terror, charge head first into a hell dimension, and risk coming face to face with a creature that gave demons nightmares – all for the slim chance of rescuing the man who used to be her school librarian? And he was asking her that?

"In a – hey, you’re not my father, but you’re the closest thing I’ve got, and beside you mean more to me than that – kind of way? Yes. Yes. I do. He’s my anchor. My rock. He pushes me, and he indulges me, and he puts up with me - and he loves me, more than he’d ever admit. God," she realised, colliding with the truth of the phrase that had sprung to mind, "he’d walk through hell for me if he had to. I just never figured I’d have to do it for him."

"We’ll find him," the hero beside her promised softly. "And we’ll save him. No matter what it takes …"

Light.

Gentle, warm light; it came cascading out of the air like some exotic roman candle lit high above the carved stone, and it poured into every nook and cranny, sweeping away the shadows and painting everything it touched with a soft halo of silver.

Shadows.

Swirling shadows, forced into liquid patches of darkness by the impact of the light, billowing and flowing in a panicked filled flight across the stone, racing for the portal to be swallowed up in ripples of ink and nothingness.

And in the middle of both of them, Buffy, wrestling with a struggling vampire, his body arching and twisting as he fought to be free of her grip.

She’d gone straight for him, ignoring the ice filled touches of the Malumbra as they stirred and reacted to the invasion of the light. Fire had flared at her wrist, driving them back in twists of startled pain. It flared again as she seized hold of the fleeing monster, dragging him back, dragging him away from the sanctuary of the portal; the Malumbra he contained howled with anger, slashing at her with taloned fingers that ripped across her shirt sleeve and drew blood.

"Ow," she protested, backhanding him hard in the chest and sending him flying into a nearby tombstone. A mistake: he wasn’t interested in fighting, just in getting away. She had to leap after him, landing on his back and bringing him crashing back to the ground. "Oh no, you don’t," she muttered, wrestling him into a strangle grip and grimacing as his struggles bruised her in places she didn’t like to think about. "Go after your buddies if you like, but he stays here …"

The thing in her arms growled and thrashed like a mad dog, tentacles of shadow lashing at her skin, only to be driven back by the fire and light the bracelet spawned. The vampire was strong; the creature that possessed it even stronger. It took all of her strength just hold on to him.

"Hey!" she yelled, wondering where her backup had vanished to. "Little help here?" He’d been right at her heels as they’d charged in …

"Sorry," Iolaus said, arriving at her side in a half thrown slide, his trainers spewing gravel and dirt as he scraped to a halt. "Couple of them tried going the wrong way."

"That," Buffy complained, tugging squirming monster down as it tried to arch up and away from her, "is why –" She yanked down a straining shoulder and jerked her head sideways as the creature slammed its head back at her. "Hercules and Xander - went – over there."

The demi-god had volunteered to watch the perimeter, just in case any of the Malumbra had sought escape in Sunnydale, rather than heading for their mystical door. The pitch soaked torches the heroes had brought weren’t that much of a weapon, but they were better than nothing; besides, all they would be needed for was to drive the shadows back, not face them head on.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I know." He skittered out of the way of lashing feet, and came back with grim determination, slamming the palm of his hand firmly down on the centre of the vampire’s chest. "By wrong way, read underground. There’s a vault under here." His head jerked towards the less ruined end of the crypt. "I shut the door and got in the way. Gods, but these things are scary."

"Tell me about it," she muttered, tightening her grip a little more. There was a soft light, flaring under the man’s palm, and his face was taut with concentration. Darkness suddenly erupted around them; the Malumbra surged up and struck phantom blows, raking ice through her limbs, numbing her skin and sending her senses reeling. The bracelet flared one more time - and the crystal in it cracked, shattering into a shimmer of dust. Darkness flowed into her, then out again, a tide of horror and malice and bitter, bitter agony that left her shaking to the bone. The vampire went limp, and the hero lunged with fearsome speed, plunging his hand deep into the heart of the emerging shadow. Fire and fury blazed in his eyes – an echo of the flash of light that suddenly sundered the darkness and ripped the spectre into tattered shreds of nothingness.

"That’s – one," Iolaus concluded, dropping down onto his hands and fighting for breath. "You okay?"

She nodded numbly. She hadn’t realised just how much the bracelet has been protecting her. That last, dreadful touch – just a sweep across her soul – had been almost more than she could bear. "I lost my pretty," she murmured, lifting her hand so he could see. The gold band glimmered in the mystic light. There was no sign of the crystal; just a scorched mark where it had once rested.

He grinned – a slightly effort filled grin, reflecting what dealing with the demon had cost him. "I’ll get you another," he promised. "If I can. How’s the corpse?"

She looked down. Vampires weren’t usually that blessed with body warmth, but this one was practically frozen; his skin was like ice, and he was shivering uncontrollably. He was alive – or unalive at least; his dark eyes were glaring at her with a mixture of confusion, hate and distress.

"Fresh out of the twilight zone," she decided, scrambling up and dumping the dazed dead man down on a tilted slab. "Think we can get any sense out of him?"

Iolaus clambered to his feet, casting an anxious glance towards the half hidden portal as he did so. Just beyond it, Hercules was heading towards them at a run, with Xander hot on his heels. "We don’t need much. And we don’t have time for finesse."

He reached out, grabbing the vampire by his shirt and tugging him forward, so that he slid off the stone and down onto his knees with a bone jarring thud. "Just one question," he growled. "Where’s the eye of Harmony?"

Metcalfe stared up at him with bleary, distracted eyes. "Like you care," he mumbled, and broke into a little giggle. Iolaus’ lips tightened and his eyes narrowed; Buffy hastily grabbed the dead man’s hair and turned his head towards her with a jerk.

"Listen up, you" she said. "This guy just pushed a Malumbra out of your skin and ripped it up into itty bitty pieces. Two things: one, you should be kissing his feet with gratitude and two – I don’t think you want to make him angry. Do you?"

Metcalfe blinked. "Uh – no," he decided, some of the focus coming back into his gaze. "No – I guess not."

"Good answer," Buffy concluded, letting him go. "Now tell him what he wants to know."

"Metcalfe had been trying to use the Eye to channel the power of the hellmouth," Giles explained thoughtfully, pausing to take a mouthful of tea. "Which was a rather stupid thing to do in the first place, even if Salamiel hadn’t been lurking around waiting for the first chance he got to crack open his prison door. It’s a transpheric astral transitional stabiliser – if you want the mystic techno-babble. Simply put, that’s – "

"A key," Cordelia completed for him, looking pleased at having worked it out. "A door key for doors that aren’t really there?"

"Exactly." Giles glanced round at her, looking impressed. Wesley frowned.

"That would make it an incredibly powerful artifact," he said. "I hope it’s ended up somewhere safe."

"Oh, it’s safe," his fellow Englishman assured him, putting down his now empty cup and leaning back to go on with his story. His fingers strayed to twist the ring on his right hand and settle it into a more comfortable position; a heavy gold ring, into which was set a dark red, irregular stone. "And it’s probably not as powerful as you’re thinking. The only door it’ll open these days is the one into Malador. Salamiel spent weeks wearing it. Impressed his essence into it. The same way he was trying to impress it into me."

"Urrhuh," Lorne shuddered. "Sorry," he apologised almost immediately. "Been thinking that one for a while. It sort of slipped out. Just ignore me."

"You were telling us what Metcalfe said," Angel prompted, taking the seer at his word. "He’d used the Eye – opened a door and found Salamiel waiting on the other side of it?"

"More or less." Giles frowned as he considered the best way to explain it. "The Incandescent was trapped, you understand. He had no existence outside his realm. Couldn’t leave, no matter what he did. But once the door was opened, he could send his servants out to explore. His - reach – became a matter of his will. The Malumbra overwhelmed Metcalfe and brought him to their master. He took everything; the vampires’ memories, his knowledge – and the Eye itself. After that, he sent him back, no more than a puppet serving his will. The Malumbra have no real physical presence in this world – but they can possess the bodies of others and make use of them that way."

"In this world," Wesley noted, seizing on the phrase and studying it thoughtfully. "What about in their own?"

"In Malador?" Giles found a small smile for his friend’s perspicuity. "Well, they have some substance there, although it’s not much. Just enough to add material hurt to the damage they inflict on their victims. And enough," he noted wryly, "for some of their intended victims to hurt them back …" 

"Okay," Hercules decided, assessing what he’d heard and frowning over the implications of it. "This complicates things a little. We can’t close this door without the Eye – and that means we’re going to have to confront the Incandescent directly."

"Always on the cards," Iolaus muttered, not sounding at all surprised about it. "But it is just getting the Eye from him. Once we have that, we can slam the door in his face."

"Right," his partner agreed, glancing thoughtfully at Buffy and Xander. "It’s going to be dangerous in there."

"Danger is my middle name," Xander declared boldly, then grimaced a little. "Sort of. Actually it’s LaVelle. And I want to help, but I’m not the Slayer and I haven’t any super Scooby powers or anything and I’m getting this real feeling that I’m going to turn into a liability any minute now …"

"You don’t have to come," Hercules assured him. "But if you do, you won’t be a liability. Buffy and I can probably keep the Incandescent occupied while Iolaus finds your friend - but you could help by looking for those children he was talking about …"

The kids – yeah, right," Xander agreed, perking up again at the prospect. He jerked his thumb at Metcalfe. "What about him?"

"He’s the one responsible, isn’t he," Buffy considered slowly. "Stole the Eye, opened the door, helped kidnap Giles …"

"Yeah, and yeah," the vampire jeered confidently. "And you know? I almost feel sorry for that poor bastard – "

His voice was silenced abruptly; the Slayer had matter of factly slammed the point of a stake straight through his heart. Dust drifted down from the blow. "That’s two," she breathed, her expression suggesting no-one had better argue about it. No-one did. Hercules and his partner simply exchanged a look.

"Think he got the point," the son of Zeus noted wryly. "Ready?"

"Ready," Buffy agreed, helping herself to a sword out of Xander’s bundle and giving it a few practice sweeps for luck. Hercules nodded, snatched up one of the flaming torches - and headed for the portal at a run.

Long Sea Crossing - Chapter One. Part Seven. Disclaimer:This story has been written for love rather than profit and is not intended to violate any copyrights held by anyone - Universal, Pacific Rennaisance, or any other holders of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys or Buffy the Vampire slayer trademarks or copyrights.
© 2003. Written by Pythia. Reproduced by Penelope Hill