Enraged, Justine lowered her head and charged, slamming Buffy into a large boulder.
Pain shot up Buffy’s spine. She raised her arm to block a blow and Justine kicked her in the stomach. Buffy locked her legs around the artist and flipped backward, throwing the woman over her head to the ground.
Scrambling to her feet, Justine fell back out of range and began to circle.
Clamping her hand to a large bruise in her side, Buffy matched the maneuver, buying some recovery time. In truth, she didn’t stand a chance with Kali in the equation. As long as Justine believed she was invincible, she was.
So I’ll just have to convince her she isn’t, Buffy thought as Justine suddenly barreled toward her. Buffy jumped aside, but the artist anticipated the move, dodged, and drove her to the ground.
Buffy’s head struck a rock, stunning her for a few critical seconds.
Driven by the wrath of raw evil, Justine grabbed Buffy by the hair and flung the dazed Slayer against the jagged surface of a tall stone.
Battered and bleeding, Buffy drew herself into a ball to protect herself from Justine’s kicks. But it’s obviously not going to be easy, she thought as nausea and dizziness added to her misery.
CHAPTER 16
Oz had given up fighting. All he had accomplished was to cut deep gouges into his wrists and ankles with the manacles. More than that, his struggles had amused the winged demon guarding him. The creature hadn’t laughed once since he had been sitting quietly with his eyes closed, contemplating his predicament, the universe, and everything.
Now, apparently, the demon had grown bored and would no longer tolerate his strategy of passive resistance.
It worked for Gandhi, Oz reminded himself when he felt something twine around his arm. A burning, stinging sensation ripped through his skin where the tendril touched. The pain was similar to that of the stinging nettle he had touched on a vacation in Florida years and years ago. He had no soap and water to relieve the discomfort now. He kept his eyes closed, gritted his teeth, and imagined a cooling waterfall.
More stinging vines twined around his legs and grew until his whole body felt like it was on fire.
Oz hummed the melody of the Dingoes’ latest tune. The slow dirge quality of the song served as a suitable mantra to help him focus within and ignore that which was without. He could and would withstand anything he had to while he waited to be freed. There was no physical pain the Tarot could inflict that could possibly be worse than the emotional trauma of betraying Willow.
The thought of Willow jarred him from his meditative state. He couldn’t stand the thought of her being alone and tormented within the Tower of Justine’s Tarot.
And because he couldn’t stand it, that’s all he could think about.
In agony from the burning vines that covered his skin and the guilt that engulfed his soul, Oz cried aloud.
He would rather die than hurt Willow.
“Good, because soon you will die.” The demon laughed.
* * *
Buffy was not as hurt as she had led Justine to believe. The element of surprise, she hoped, would throw the artist off long enough to pound another wedge into her vulnerable psyche.
Groaning, Buffy tried to crawl away from the force of Justine’s battering boots.
“Had enough yet, Buffy?” Justine asked, her tone mocking.
“No, not just yet.” Buffy rolled onto her side, grabbed Justine’s ankle, and yanked the artist off her feet. She sprang into a fighting stance before the woman hit the ground.
Justine scrambled upright, her gaze hard and her lip curled in a snarl. “You’ll pay for that.”
“I’m ready whenever you are.” Buffy raised her fists and smiled. The final stage of the empowerment process would not begin until one of them had vacated the virtual premises. She had found Justine’s weakness and struck the first of her fatal, verbal blows. “You couldn’t make it in the real world, could you, Justine?”
“What?” Justine hesitated. “I was doing just fine.”
“Right, traveling from one sidewalk art show to another, never even getting invited to do a small town gallery show.” Buffy shook her head. “You’re a loser, Justine.”
“That’s a lie!” Infuriated, Justine lunged.
Buffy ducked the attack and whirled, landing a solid kick in the middle of Justine’s back. The force sent Justine sprawling on the ground. “I know who I am, Justine. Who are you?”
Justine jumped to her feet. “I am going to be the most respected artist in the world!”
“Which will be worth nothing,” Buffy retorted.
“I’ve devoted my whole life to my art!” Justine countered.
“And when things didn’t work out the way you wanted, you sold your soul to Kali.” Buffy advanced slowly, her eyes narrowed. “Everything you could have been is gone. Kali owns you. She never intended to keep her part of the bargain.”
“No, that’s not true! She promised—”
“She’s evil. They don’t keep their promises.” Buffy pressed. “You lost this fight a long time ago—”
“No, it can’t be true—” Suddenly panicked, Justine glanced about her with wild eyes. She shook her head in a frantic display of denial.
Bingo, Buffy thought. In a single moment of absolute doubt, Justine had broken her tenuous connection with Kali’s essence.
Buffy swayed as the sharp outlines of rock and reptile became fuzzy. Justine fell to her knees before the transparent visage of Kali that rose out of the parched ground. A shriek of vile rage shattered the eerie landscape and receded as Buffy was swept from the scene.
Buffy’s swift return to her body left her momentarily disoriented. Surrounded by flames and pelted by falling rocks, she fought to get her bearings. Justine was slumped over at the table, but Buffy’s first thought was for Giles and her friends. She anxiously scanned the cave. Fire and smoke obstructed her view, but she finally found them huddled in a stone recess near the entrance. Even Angel.
Giles raised his hands to his mouth. He shouted, but she couldn’t hear him over the roar of the fire and rampaging tornado winds. She turned, looking for a break in the flames. Her gaze snapped to the Judgment painting on the easel.
Vibrant color flowed across the black and gray images on the canvas.
Justine’s essence was empowering the last card in Kali’s doomsday deck.
“I choose you, Slayer,” Kali’s grating voice whispered.
Buffy’s heart lurched. With the ultimate Tarot at her command, the dark goddess could, apparently, usurp another human host and still destroy the universe. Not on my watch!
“Sorry. I have other plans.” Buffy dashed through the fire, ignoring the heat that blistered her skin. She grabbed the painting and shoved it into the flames. It didn’t burn. She pulled it back and smashed it against the ground. It didn’t break.
The elements were under Kali’s control and could not be used against her.
But she doesn’t control me.
Desperate and determined, Buffy leaned the painting against the table. An invisible brush seemed to be filling in the details, adding tones and shadings that were bringing the Judgment scene to life. She had seconds to destroy it, no more.
Buffy reacted on instinct and pulled a stake from her back pocket. Mr. Pointy was imprinted with the Slayer’s psychic signature. Kali had no power over it.
Clutching the stake in both hands, she slashed downward. The wooden point tore through the canvas. She slashed again and again, shredding the painting.
Kali’s maddened screams resounded off the cavern walls as the Hellmouth reclaimed that which belonged to it. Wind, fire, and lightning were sucked into the rift like air rushing into a vacuum.
“Buffy!” Giles yelled.
Barely able to hear him, Buffy looked back. Giles waved and pointed toward the far wall. She understood immediately.
“They must be destroyed before the rift closes!”
Buffy didn’t take time to acknowledge Giles. With stake still in
hand, she leaped through the rift. The force of the Hellmouth’s inhalation snagged her just as she touched the far side. The stake dropped from her hand as she clawed the stone floor to keep from being dragged into the underworld chasm. Inching her way back onto solid ground, she retrieved Mr. Pointy and lunged for the three paintings that imprisoned her friends. Although it was too late to save Justine’s previous eighteen victims, Willow, Xander, and Oz could still be reunited with their stolen minds. She ripped and tore at the first canvas in a frenzy of destruction until a shimmering gold mist zipped out and shot across the cavern. She quickly moved on to the second and didn’t stop until nothing remained of the Devil, Death, and the Tower but tatters.
As the maelstrom of fire and wind began to die down, Buffy’s gaze followed Willow’s speeding essence. Giles, Anya, and Angel had pulled Xander, Willow, and Oz out from under the ledge. A golden aura settled over Willow and faded as it was absorbed. All three of her friends came to with a start and struggled to stand on shaky legs. Relieved, Buffy methodically attacked the remaining paintings.
At the table, Justine looked up, still dazed by her sudden release from the ruined Judgment painting. Terror instantly replaced confusion when a wind snapped up Hovan’s Tarot deck and whisked the cards into the air.
Still slashing canvas, Buffy winced as the small Tarot cards whipped around Justine, slicing her face and arms with edges made razor sharp by speed.
Justine burst out of the chair to run, but there was no escape from the covenant she had signed with Kali. The Hellmouth held her fast, drawing her and the Hovan deck into its dark maw. Her screams were silenced as the breach slammed closed.
Buffy finished shredding the last painting and dropped it. Weary to the marrow, she sagged against the wall, then started when luminescent, golden wisps began to rise from the pile of torn canvas. She watched the freed souls ascend in quiet reflection, at peace with the world and herself.
“Well, that was exciting.” Anya’s voice carried in the cavernous quiet.
“Nerve-racking doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Xander said weakly. “Death is not a fun guy.”
Anya beamed. “Well, just so you know, I kept your body safe and sound.”
Xander blinked. “You did?”
“So, can we go out sometime? I think you owe me.” Anya asked hopefully.
“Out? Like on a real date?” Xander held up a hand. “Rewind that. The unknown isn’t necessarily a bad thing, right? Let’s just say I’ll seriously consider it.”
“When?” Anya asked.
Oz placed his hands on Willow’s arms. “You know that Justine made—”
Willow placed her finger on his mouth. “Not a problem.”
Oz frowned. “I would never want anything bad to happen to you.”
“I can’t die. Not anytime soon anyway.” Willow grinned. “There’s too much I want to do. Magick and college and kicking demon butt with Buffy and probably a lot of other stuff I haven’t thought of yet.”
“So—” Xander clapped his hands together. “Anyone up for stuffing face with tacos?”
“I am!” Anya grinned.
Buffy smiled and pocketed her stake.
Her friends had survived their ordeal with their quirky personalities intact, and the universe was back on schedule for total annihilation several billion years in the future.
And the future is tamper-proof again—for the time being, at least—which is good, Buffy thought as she caught Angel’s eye. He gestured toward the break back into the tunnel. She nodded and slipped away to follow him.
I’d rather be surprised.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Diana G. Gallagher lives in Florida with her husband, Marty Burke, three dogs, three cats, and a cranky parrot. A Hugo Award-winning artist, she is best known for her series Woof: The House Dragon. Dedicated to the development of the solar system’s resources, she has contributed to this effort by writing and recording songs that promote and encourage humanity’s movement into space.
Her first adult novel, The Alien Dark, appeared in 1990. She and Marty co-authored The Chance Factor, a STARFLEET ACADEMY VOYAGER book. In addition to other STAR TREK novels for intermediate readers, Diana has written many books in other series published by Minstrel Books and Archway Paperbacks, including The Secret World of Alex Mack, Are You Afraid of the Dark, The Journey of Allen Strange, and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. She has two previous Buffy the Vampire Slayer novels published and is currently working on additional ideas for Simon Pulse.
Visit us at www.simonandschuster.com/teen
Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/Diana-G-Gallagher
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