(continued: here comes the ending, finally)
"I need something of yours, something that is essentially and completely you. I need to fasten you to Le Perdu and I need to summon Le Perdu to you and for that, I need an anchor. Not a lock of your hair, or anything like that. Something you treasure. Something all compact of your life."
She reached into her blouse and pulled out a chain. Dangling, safe hidden from the world between her breasts, were two things: a cross, and a ring. I touched the cross, and felt a nice warmth from it. It wouldn't work, though. Buffy's sense of connection to it wasn't strong enough. I moved on and touched the ring.
Pictures, vivid and colorful. Here it was, the strongest personal talisman I had ever come across. I saw a beautiful man's image, a double connection; this love had been forged in the fires of time and hell itself. Both had lived; both had died.
"This is it. This is our anchor. There's a ritual we must do, now, before you go back out into the world. We have to seal this." I took her hand and cupped the ring in her open palm. "Keep your hand open. I need to cover it."
She obeyed me without a word. Her hand upward, the ring, my hand - something wasn't right.
"Wait - this is wrong. We have to reverse. I must be beneath, to meet you as you fall. Turn your palm upside down, and cover the ring with your thumb. It mustn't fall. Now, then."
I began the anchoring spell. "L'amorçage et le brin de la vie, venus ensemble, tissent ensemble, se joignent, deviennent en tant qu'un."
The pressure of her thumb eased above my hand. I could feel it. Yet the ring did not move.
"Apportez-son sans risque à la maison moi!"
We felt the spell settle gently into place. I could see it in her face. She had seen witchcraft, and magic done before her. She had never felt it happen to her. I saw calm and resolution sweep over her, misting her features like easy rain.
The Slayer was ready.
- * *
In the end, it was easy.
My preparations were simple enough, easily made. I had little to say goodbye to, after all. Hilde and I spent hours together, leaning over my witchball, watching the end of the world open like the devil's rose petals.
We saw Glorificus find them, and Tara's unknowing betrayal of Dawn. We saw them flee; Hilde, to my amusement, developed a middle-aged crush on the band's unlikely ally, a bleach-haired vampire. We saw the Knights of Byzantium find them as well. I stayed silent and did nothing, even when Rupert was injured, perhaps to death; at least, I think I stayed silent, but Hilde turned and stared at me for a long moment, so perhaps she saw and understood. She did shake her head in sorrow at the worst mistake of all, letting the enemy into their sanctum, the young doctor who could save Rupert for me, housing the Beast.
We saw it all. They unfolded like clockwork, those events, exactly as I had seen them. At the first sight of Dawn on her altar, I left the witchball and set Le Perdu in motion. And the house I call The Lost became the Slayer's safety net and salvation. None of her essential self was lost in the dimensional transition. The demons that soul-snatch in those chilly interstices could not touch her through the walls of Le Perdu. I caught her, without so much as a psychic bruise.
I won't share those spells, or repeat them. To do so would be to risk destroying what I managed to accomplish, because they aren't yet complete. The Slayer is here, with me, a pale flamelike wraith. Her new human form is a mirror of the one they buried, and wept over. She visits them in dreams, with my magic to guide her. It's the closest we can get right now to letting them know that she isn't lost, because as I thought, Le Perdu took a tremendous jolt, and we're adrift.
In the end, we will spiral back to Sunnydale, like a needle finding true north. Hilde will be pleased to get back. At the moment, she's using all that obsessive energy to tend to the Slayer, bringing her body back to its former state with, as she says, a little bit more meat on those bones.
As for me, I understand about patience. In the end, Rupert will be there, waiting. This was something that was promised. And although I broke my own rules, I believe this promise will be kept.
- * *
(whew. sore fingers from all the posting...)