“Yes,” Buffy answered, feeling the trees press in on her. They were listening. She knew it.
Together they crept toward the small rise, seeing the gleaming of firelight on the trunks of nearby trees as they approached. Soon they could hear murmuring, chanting, and then the slow, methodical slosh of paddles in water. As they crested the hill, a startling sight lay before them.
A circle of Druids stood to their left, hands raised to the heavens. They chanted around a stone altar. Blood pooled in a carved-out recess, glistening black in the weak firelight. They wore rough brown woolen robes and had blue spirals painted on their faces, arms, and hands. Long beards hung to their chests and navels. At the base of the hill gathered too many Celtic warriors to count, leaning on spears, gripping swords, stringing bows. Men and women alike stood in leather armor and metal plating over their chests and thighs. Buffy took in faces, arms, and legs painted with woad, a blue dye derived from a plant. Through these tense warriors shifted strange and eerie women with long, free-flowing hair and billowing robes. They wove among the fighters like snakes, slithering and passing between groups, touching a shoulder here, a head there.
The sloshing of boats grew louder, and Buffy strained to make out anything on the black water. With the dying storm had come calmer winds, and the surface of the strait lay glossy and black. Suddenly that stillness broke, and a line of turbulence on the surface stretched as far as she could see.
The Romans were crossing.
The strait came alive with a flotilla of flat-bottomed boats like the one Buffy had stolen. Loaded with men, the boats drew closer. She heard more frantic splashing and saw an entire row of horses swimming alongside the boats—the cavalry attempting to bring their mounts into battle. The men swam next to their horses, struggling under heavy armor.
Mere moments had passed since Buffy and Giles crested the hill. As the Romans approached, a rank of archers lined the bank and fired volleys of arrows. These hissed through the air, felling men in boats and splashing into the water when they missed.
Then the Romans gave up their silence and a single, voluminous roar rose up from their masses. Cries of rage and fear masked as bravado filled the silent night.
The Celts answered with a chorus of wild cries, whoops, trills, and shouts. More arrows cut the air, raining down on the Romans. The first boat reached the shore, and armored legionnaires poured from it, thundering across the beach to the Celts.
The battle had begun, and Buffy and Giles stood in the middle of it.
CHAPTER NINE
At once, the Romans leaped from their boats into the shallows, drawing their swords. Hundreds strong, they streamed onto the shore, shouting. The Celtic warriors rushed forward to meet them.
Buffy’s mouth went dry. Raw battle unfolded before her, a cacophonous mass of voices and clashing weapons. To her left she heard the circle of Druids chanting, the sound increasing in volume. They lifted their heads to the sky, calling out, imploring. The trees swayed around them. Wind lifted the branches, sighed, and then roared in the leaves.
And then Buffy realized—it wasn’t the wind at all.
The trees themselves moved, lifting earth-covered roots from the soil. Snaking their way forward, the branches bent and swayed, closing in on the Roman invaders. The forest hissed and sighed. She took a step back, taking it all in, her mouth parting in astonishment. Her heel bumped against something solid and cold. She reached back and felt the reassuring solid mass of a granite boulder. Then it, too, shifted beneath her hand. The rough stone rotated and moved forward. She spun around, staring at it. The rock unfolded itself, lifting a stone head and bringing forth two massive stone arms. Leaning forward, the boulder pulled itself from the earth, sending soil and ferns spilling down the sides of the little rise. The stone was an ancient monolith, covered beneath centuries of dirt. The tip she had felt with her tentative hand was merely the very top. It continued to burrow out of the earth until it stood up, towering thirty feet above her. The lower stone parted into two massive legs. With a single step, it moved twenty feet off the rise, the ground shuddering beneath it.
Giles gripped her arm tightly. She turned to him as he pointed to a neighboring small rise. Another tremendous stone winnowed its way out of the earth there, soil raining off it as it emerged. Buffy had witnessed vampires crawling out of the dirt countless times. This sight left them all behind. The rocks broke and split along their masses, forming arms and legs and tremendous stone heads with fearsome eyes that gleamed red in the darkness.
The tree warriors closed in, now batting Romans off the beach as if they were made of straw. As a third stone creature joined the first two, the Romans froze, gazing up in horror.
On the beach, the women with long, flowing hair screamed and ran, cloaks streaming out behind them. At their passing, the Celtic warriors worked themselves up into a frenzy. They rushed forward, stabbing the centurions and legionnaires while they stood in shock.
Buffy watched in awe as Roman after Roman stumbled and fell, not even fighting back. The sheer spectacle of the sight froze them to the spot.
Next to her the Druids chanted louder, their cries growing all the more intense and eerie.
On the beach, the same Roman commander she’d seen earlier stepped from a boat. His long red cape billowed behind him. He shouted at his men in Latin, shoved them and forced them into action. Some stumbled beneath his blows, others shook their heads slightly, then raised their swords once more. He strode through the ranks, yelling and berating his men. At once the invasion force came to life. Screaming, the Romans ran inland, clashing with the Celtic warriors.
The tree warriors crashed down heavy limbs upon the Romans, while the stone creatures crushed centurions into the soft mud of the shore. Buffy took in the chaos, the clashing warriors, the screaming, the women running with torches and inciting the troops, the forest come to life to protect its human denizens.
“How in the world are we going to find the Slayer in all this?” she shouted to Giles over the din.
“We need to find our guide. He knows what she looks like.”
She looked down at the mesh of struggling bodies at the bottom of the rise. “And how do we do that?” she asked helplessly. Even as she said it, though, she caught a glimpse of a dark green cloak below. At the edge of the fighting, closer to the forest, their guide engaged in heated conversation with a young woman dressed in leather armor and coated with woad. He pointed to the top of the rise where Buffy and Giles stood. She followed his gaze, taking them in. Immediately she wheeled back around, shouting again at the guide. Shaking his head adamantly, he gripped her shoulders, and she shoved him away.
“That’s got to be her!” Buffy yelled. “Come on!” Grabbing Giles’s arm, she took off down the hill in the direction of the Slayer. But before she reached the bottom, two figures emerged from the clashing warriors. Dressed in cloaks and woolen tunics, at first Buffy thought they were other Celts. But then she noticed the footwear of the second. He wore twentieth-century combat boots.
As Buffy raced down the slope, her feet sliding in loose mud, the two figures reached the Slayer. In the din of combat, the girl did not notice them, just continued to argue with the guide. As Buffy shouted for her to turn, the vampires closed the distance.
Buffy slid and stumbled, righted herself, and sloshed desperately through the oozing mud. As it sucked at her feet, pulling one of her boots off completely, the closer vampire rushed forward. He pulled out a dagger and buried it deep in the Celtic Slayer’s back.
CHAPTER TEN
Pulling her feet free, Buffy raced to the other Slayer. Incinii’s eyes went wide, and she fell forward into the guide’s arms. The two vamps spotted Buffy, astonishment on their faces. One actually shook his head in disbelief. She’d half expected them to run away. They’d murdered the Slayer, and Buffy had failed. Now their expressions changed. They looked at Buffy with hatred and contempt, arrogantly believing they could kill her, too.
But just as she reache
d the spot, she saw the Celtic Slayer stand up again, wheeling angrily on the two assassins. Quickly the guide readjusted Incinii’s leather armor straps across her back. One of them had blocked the blow, Buffy realized. Incinii was far from murdered. The guide pointed to Buffy, shouting at Incinii above the cacophony around them.
Incinii nodded at her and circled the vampires warily to join Buffy at her side. Clasping Buffy’s forearm in greeting, she grinned and said something incomprehensible. Then both of them turned to face their enemies.
Now, with two Slayers bearing down on them, the assassin vamps didn’t look so bold. They started to back away, eyes darting around to spot possible escape routes. Another stone warrior emerged from the darkness. The vampire in combat boots shuddered slightly as the creature stepped clear over him to reach the beach. His face contorted in fear, and he looked at his partner, eyes wide.
“Don’t freak out on me, Jason!” said the other vamp, seeing the look in his cohort’s eyes. “Let’s just get this done.” Then he turned to Buffy, his eyes sharp and keen, his body ready to fight. “I’ve killed you twice before,” he said to her, “and I’m going to do it again.”
“Thanks for volunteering,” she told him. “I wasn’t sure which one of you losers to dust first.” She sounded brave, but inside, his words hit hard. What did he mean? Had she herself been one of the Slayers they tried to kill? She swallowed hard. Had they tried to kill her when she was just a kid? What had gone wrong?
“Victor!” Jason cried nervously, interrupting her thoughts. “This isn’t the best place to fight!” He leaped back as a group of Celtic warriors crashed into him, struggling with three Roman centurions. A tree limb swung down, connecting with one of the Romans’ helmets, opening it with a crack. Buffy saw blood spray over Jason. He blinked it out of his eyes, regaining his balance. “We’re going to get squashed!”
“Just kill the Celtic Slayer. Finish our mission. That’s all,” Victor ordered him, not taking his eyes off Buffy. Jason raced forward to join the other vampire.
“Can’t we take this fight somewhere else?” Jason shouted. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
In her peripheral vision, Buffy took in the chaos around her. Off to her left, she spotted Giles crouching in the dense foliage. She hoped he wouldn’t get himself squished. Beyond them, toward the beach, bloody bodies tangled and clashed. War cries and trills resonated in the air. Arrows whined and hit home. Swords clacked sharply against shields. Men screamed in agony. One boulder creature waded out into the dark waters and drowned the Romans as they tried to land.
It was not the best place for a personal fight. The vamp had a point.
But then Victor raced forward, bending low at the last minute and sweeping his leg out. His foot caught Buffy in the knee and she turned quickly, deflecting much of the blow. He leaped upright, thrusting his palm out and connecting with her chin. She reeled backward, struck a tree. Using it as a brace, she kicked him hard as he closed in again, connecting with his solar plexus. He bent over, gripping his chest. Buffy jumped up, grabbed hold of a branch, and swung, kicking Victor in the face with both feet. He stumbled backward, crashing down into the mud.
Next to her, Incinii struggled with Jason, who despite being scared was doing a damn fine job. Too good a job. He pinned Incinii against a boulder and produced a knife from inside his cloak. As Victor turned and threw a kick, Buffy leaped over his leg, landing next to Incinii. She struck Jason hard on the arm, then grabbed it and wrenched it around, snapping it at the elbow. The knife tumbled to the forest floor.
Incinii kicked him hard in the stomach, then picked up a jagged shard of wood from the ground. Strong arms clenched around Buffy’s throat from behind. She slammed her foot down into Victor’s instep, grabbed his arms, and flung him harshly over her shoulder. His head cracked against the boulder, leaving a smear of glistening blood behind.
He stood up, feeling the blood seeping from his scalp. “That hurt, Slayer!” he shouted.
“Good!”
Again he pulled out his knife, the one he’d stabbed Incinii with. “Let’s end this!”
“I couldn’t agree more,” she retorted, glancing over at Incinii. She stood on top of Jason, who lay prone in the mud, spitting pine needles out of his mouth. She arced the wooden stake in the air, and then Victor rushed to meet Buffy. She snapped her head back to him, dodging out of the way and tripping him as he passed. He leaped back up, recovering more quickly than she expected, reeling and striking her hard in the kidney. She caught the flash of steel, saw the knife zipping in, and then the earth shuddered and rose up beneath them. They rolled, falling into the dirt.
The boulder with Victor’s blood rose upward, two great eyes blinking open, taking them in. As Buffy struggled to stand up, a mouth rose into view, full of sharp stone teeth. Then a pair of massive shoulders, followed by a thick torso. The earth heaved up again, sending Buffy and Victor tumbling down the rising slope.
A few feet away, Jason threw Incinii off him, rolling over on top of her. She kneed him in the chest, flinging him away, and he slid down the loose mud. The stone creature emerged fully from the earth, glaring down at Jason. The vampire did not notice. Instead, he righted himself at the bottom of the slope, found his fallen knife, and marched angrily back toward Incinii.
A tremendous stone foot crashed down on him, pulverizing his bones. When the massive weight lifted, Buffy saw a disgusting tangle of flesh and splintered bone. Incinii jumped up, wiped mud out of her eyes, and drove the stake deeply into the mess. Dust billowed around her as she struck the heart.
Incinii looked up at the stone creature and grinned.
“Damn you!” Victor cursed, suddenly staggering to his feet. “Jason!” he shouted.
He dashed forward to his fallen comrade. Dust settled in the massive footprint, the only sign of his friend. Victor wheeled on Incinii, his eyes enraged. “Now I kill you for myself!” he shouted, rushing toward her.
A shadow fell over him as the tremendous stone creature raised its foot again.
Victor stopped short. He stared up at the massive rock, then back at Incinii. With one long glance at Buffy, he turned and ran full speed into the mass of clashing warriors. Buffy tried to follow, muscling her way through, but she heard Giles calling to her, urging her to return.
She pulled out just as a spear narrowly missed her. It wouldn’t be the smartest thing to charge into the battle.
She ran to where Incinii stood, and Giles joined them. “We need to track the assassin on the other side of the struggle,” he urged them. “We can’t possibly fight our way through that. We’d surely be killed.”
They stared at the continuing battle before them. The massive stone warrior stepped out onto the beach, joining its friends. “Let’s go!” Buffy shouted, running along the edge of the skirmish. She hoped they could pick up Victor’s trail on the other side.
Suddenly another vampire burst out of the bushes, closing in on the fleeing assassin. “Victor!” the emerging figure shouted. “Don’t leave without me!” Buffy continued the chase. A few minutes later a bright flash of light brought her eyes to the sky. A vortex appeared about a mile away, spiraling and brilliant. “They’re going back!” Giles shouted.
“You mean that’s it? They’re giving up?”
“Apparently. For now.”
Incinii stared at the dizzying vortex. She asked Giles a question, which he answered at length. Buffy couldn’t understand a word. She didn’t like this. Who was the fleeing figure who’d stayed out of the fight altogether? The elusive Lucien? And why would they give up like that? Sure, their fellow assassin had died, but it didn’t make sense to come all the way back here and then give up—unless he was planning on coming back at a different time. He was definitely out-gunned this time. But they’d made the decision in an instant, and left so quickly. Why not bide their time to kill her in the same visit? It didn’t make sense.
Unless, she thought, unless this is only one of his stops.
“He’s going to kill another Slayer,” Buffy said, turning to Giles. “We’ve got to follow him!”
Giles stopped, searching her face in the darkness. Incinii stood silently by, glancing back toward the battle.
“You think they’ve targeted more than one Slayer?” he asked.
“That’s got to be it. They must have more options. They have all of time. They can travel anywhere, to any time period. Right now, another Slayer is about to die. We’ve got to stop them!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As the portal tugged at their hair and clothes, Victor took a final glance around ancient Britain. Once again, he’d lost his best friend. What was the point of Lucien saving him, only to lose him in the next time jump? Lucien and Victor readied themselves for the trip back to 1998. This wasn’t the kind of travel Victor preferred. Too nauseating.
“What do we do now?” Victor asked above the roar of wind.
“We kill the next Slayer.”
“What about Buffy?” Victor asked, curious about Lucien’s reaction. “She knows about this.”
“We can’t be certain that she knows about the others. My guess is she stumbled onto our hideout and took the primitive version of the spell for 60 C.E.”
“You left that lying around?” Victor asked, incredulous.
“It was a rough draft! It didn’t even land us on the island, remember? When we tested it out, it put us on the Welsh mainland. Besides, it’s the only spell I left there. She doesn’t even know we’ve targeted more than one Slayer.”
“If she knows where the hideout is, she can catch up to us there,” Victor pointed out.
“We have no reason to go back. We have the incantations.” Lucien patted his jacket. “You’ve got a copy too, and so does Gorga in case we fail.”
“That ought to be rich.” Victor thought of the three-hundred-pound slab of meat with the battle-ax.
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