A/N: I'm sorry that this has taken me so long to write, but I do have more in the pipeline if you haven't given up on me. My sincere thanks go to Just_Sue, my beta, and to MoonKyst and Pfeifferpack. Without their wise corrections, suggestions and support, this chapter probably wouldn't have seen the light of day.

***

A hastily cleared throat was all that saved the intruder from certain death. Spike re-sheathed the wereblade that was within a hairsbreadth of flying at its target and Snidda stepped into view, palms upraised to show he wasn’t a threat. Taking in the scene before him he sighed deeply, eyes screwed shut for a moment, before moving to crouch next to the boy. Placing a comforting arm around his shoulder, he spoke quietly.

“Ah, Andii lad, ‘tis a cruel world right now, but we must save our sorrow for a better time. We have to leave and quickly.”

Andii shuddered, his slight body bent like an old man’s, before Snidda’s words registered. Straightening up he smeared away tears with a sleeve. His eyes glowed red.

For the first time Buffy noticed that all three males were wearing their demon faces.

Andii took a few moments to adjust Ahnja’s limbs and clothing. He crossed her hands at her chest and carefully brushed the blood-matted hair from her face, smoothing a palm down over her eyes to close them. Taking a step back he bowed his head to murmur a short prayer before turning to the others. His human face regained, Andii’s boyish features looked older, indelibly marked by the experience of losing the one he loved.

“I have the book.”

Reaching inside his death spattered shirt, Andii withdrew Jontan’s journal and placed it in Buffy’s hands. As soon as the soft leather touched her fingers she became very still. The room she was in faded away and another image appeared with crystal clarity. Moments later she refocused on her companions, looking pale.

“Snidda, Jontan’s cave, can you take us to it?”

“Aye, warrior lady, I can.”

***

Knowing that only their ebbon and weremetal blades had successfully pierced the Terr-Khan’s hide earlier, Spike spoke briefly with Snidda and together they picked over the broken display cases for more of the same. Gathering weapons from Ahnja’s collection, they divided them into bundles that could reasonably be carried by four people, and then moved to the outer shop to keep a watch on the street. Meanwhile, Buffy helped Andii to pack emergency rations for a stay in the caves. Everyone was on edge, aware that the enemy could come crashing in at any time. If Spike had questions about Buffy’s request to find Jontan’s cave he kept them to himself. Instinct told him to follow her lead on this. Besides, any hope of finding others willing to fight now lay within the tunnels.

Andii, still shaky from recent events, nonetheless had the presence of mind to fetch Buffy a short fur lined jacket that had belonged to Ahnja. Giving him a grateful smile she quickly put it on over her dress, refastening her cloak. Now ready, the four stole quietly into the night.

***

Only Snidda’s intimate knowledge of the convoluted city prevented confrontation with large groups of Terr-Khan. As it was, they only avoided discovery by a whisker, ducking into ancient ginnels running between properties, too narrow for the barrel-chested monsters to squeeze into. Hearts pounded each time a pitch black passageway ended at the next street, but they steadily made their way uphill, eventually entering a large overgrown garden, tucked behind a very old house. Rising up immediately behind it were the sheer cliffs that had protected Lossangel for so many centuries.

Negotiating the cracked pavement and fallen statuary, they came to a high wall nestled against the rock. By now, the light flurries of snow had quickened to a steady fall.

“Good,” muttered Snidda to himself, “fresh snow will cover our tracks.”

Andii helped him to pull aside a heavy curtain of knotted ivy from the stonework. Behind it was a hole, about five feet in diameter, leading into the mountain.

If it had seemed cold outside, this was something else again! A musty, still, chill crept into Buffy’s bones almost instantly. With the ivy carefully pulled back into place Andii lit two torches, which held a soft yellow glow but gave no warmth. Snidda led the way with one and Andii came after Buffy with the other. Spike brought up the rear, constantly alert for signs that they were being followed.

After about twenty yards the passage became easier underfoot, a long diverted stream had once flowed this way leaving the ground smooth. They could hear swiftly rushing water somewhere deep beneath them. Several angled shafts, leading both up and down on either side, indicated that this area had once been mined, with wide pegs of rock deliberately left untouched at intervals to prevent the mountain from collapsing and closing the gaps. Here the torches picked out streaks of discolouration amongst the grey, the dull glitter of ore in seams too small or too inaccessible to bother with. The place smelled of old air, determination and faded hopes.

Now the path narrowed and the ceiling lowered sharply, so the group had to crouch down for the next part of the journey. Only Snidda’s soft warnings prevented Buffy from knocking herself out on its jagged edges. Heaven knew how Spike was managing behind her with his extra height and broad shoulders. She had to fight the sensation that the mountain was pressing down on her. Eventually the torture stopped and Buffy could unfurl her body. The others did the same. Spike grinned at her, then grimaced, raising a hand to the back of his head. His fingers came away smudged with blood. She stepped towards him with an anxious “Oh” but he waved her off.

“Thick skull, heal fast, let’s move on shall we?” She turned to continue and missed the small smile of pleasure at her concern.

The tunnel branched off several times along the way and without Snidda’s guidance they would have been hopelessly lost. Lacking daylight and the familiar sounds they were used to, a curious sense of unreality crept over them. They could have been walking for hours or days. Only the constant noise of water, their own breathing and the scrape of boots over loose stones, kept them grounded.

Reaching another junction on their path Snidda halted the group. “Mistress Buffy, a short way from here is a cave where I believe some of our citizens will be hiding. We can go round them if you wish.”

Catching Spike’s eye, Buffy shook her head. “No, we’ll check if these civilians need any help. Besides, I could use a breather.”

Snidda merely nodded. Picking up a rock he tapped out a short pattern of clicks at the entrance to the passage. A moment’s pause and an echoing response came back.

A few zigzags and they were in a large cavern. Perhaps three hundred people were gathered there, mostly women and children but some males as well. Here it was warmer and the source of the heat, a central pool bubbling with hot water, was a balm to Buffy’s frozen face and fingertips. A giant of a man detached himself from a group of children and came forward to greet them.

“Welcome, strangers, Snidda, Andii. We have food and a place to rest if you need it. Tell us, do you have any news?”

Snidda quickly described what they’d seen and Spike added to the tale. It was pointless keeping up the appearance of a merchant so he explained that he was a scout for General Anjell, sent to gather intelligence on sightings of Terr-Khan. Under the circumstances it was believable enough, these people had no real love for outsiders, especially soldiers, and a disguise might be considered prudent. He also revealed that messengers had been sent to bring the general’s help. This good news spread through the cavern like wildfire. There was no mention of Buffy, and she, for her part, deliberately retreated a short distance away to evade questions - just another stray female caught up in events.

Spike and Snidda unwrapped the weapons that they’d brought and Ogdin, the big man who’d first welcomed them, studied the collection closely. Bald as an egg, save for a single pigtail, and wearing a thick leather jerkin, he had a right arm even thicker and more muscled than his left, which was impressive enough. Turned out he was a blacksmith. He was also a natural leader. He considered Spike’s ‘discovery’ that only weapons like these could seriously damage the enemy.

“Makes sense, I suppose. These monsters reek of ancient magick, why else would enchanted blades defeat them? I know where some of our garrison will be, if they’ve survived. I’ll get the word out and we’ll send volunteers to search the houses. With luck, stuff like this will be overlooked. We’ll get ourselves an armoury to defeat the bastards, pick them off one by one ‘til your general gets here. Maybe cause a diversion in the market, halt the killings.” He paused, looking at Spike closely. “Will you help us?”

Spike had dreaded this request, but Snidda came smoothly to his rescue, saying that he’d agreed to guide Spike to his remaining officers, the easier route to the southern caves proving impassable due to ‘enemy activity’. There was an unspoken hint that Spike was on a secret mission that couldn’t be divulged, which was actually true. Andii was also travelling with them as he’d sworn to escort Ahnja’s cousin, Buffy, to the same place, hoping to find her relatives safe and well.

If Ogdin found Snidda’s explanation fishy, he wisely kept his thoughts to himself. Glancing over at Buffy speculatively, he nodded. “Well, if anyone can find a safe route through these tunnels it’ll be you. We’ll not interfere with your business. For now, take your rest and eat.”

Food turned out to be a tasty pottage of mushrooms, boiled over the fierce hot springs. The thick fleshy fungi were widely cultivated within the caves, to sell in Lossangel and beyond. Reassured that there was plenty more where that came from, Buffy and the others ate until they were full.

The four of them sat against the cave wall in silence watching as the other survivors adapted to their new circumstances. Pretty soon the soft sounds of distress died down as one by one the refugees resumed their violently interrupted sleep. A few dozen men, mostly gemhunters by their appearance, quietly comforted loved ones before slipping off into the tunnels.

***

After an hour’s dozing, Buffy was gently shaken awake by Andii, and the four of them continued on their way after a brief farewell. They gave all Ahnja’s weapons to Ogdin to use as he saw fit.

The journey was worse than before, for now they were heading up, not down. The air grew progressively more stale and Buffy felt that if she were a canary she’d be chirping a last lament before expiring. As if in answer to her prayers, they came to a turning where a blessedly fresh puff of wind ruffled her hair from above.

“We’re in the old system now, nearer to the surface in places. This is where the hidden ones used to live. Quite a community here once.”

Looking round they could see definite signs of habitation. Small alcoves, lovingly sculpted, housed tiny marble figures, possibly gods. They glowed in the torchlight as if eager to be noticed. A trickle of water poured into a carved bowl at one wall and Spike cupped his hands to drink. “It’s fresh, and... ow!”

“What’s wrong?”

“S’nothing, the cold’s giving me ‘fang freeze’.”

This struck Buffy as being very funny until she too took a draught of the icy water.

Everyone started laughing then, even Andii managed a small chuckle, their aching bodies and grim thoughts briefly forgotten.

Soon, doorways appeared. Most were roughly chipped out but a few had carved lintels and patterned mosaics on the ground below, like stone welcome mats. The rooms inside were bare, save for inset shelves and the odd candle stub. It was hard to imagine them as anyone’s home.

The labyrinthine dwellings became older, cruder and more dangerous. Shifting planes in the mountain revealed sudden gaps in the floor. They skirted these carefully, unconsciously counting the seconds between the stones they dislodged and the faint splashes below. Pretty soon there were more gaps than places to tread and Buffy let out a small whimper. A strong arm guided her to the wall, a steady presence at her back.

“I won’t let you fall.” Spike breathed in her ear. “I’ll never let you fall.”

Reassured, and feeling just a little bit tingly, Buffy pressed on.

***

“Here we are.” Snidda said at last. The ‘here’ in question was a seemingly impenetrable wall of rubble just ahead of them.

“Just as I left it. Now, we have to do this carefully. Andii, lad, fix the torches.”

As Andii wedged both torches into cracks in the wall, Snidda climbed agilely to the top of the sloping mound. Handing the topmost rock down to Andii he then carefully selected another. Pretty soon they were all helping to remove the barrier until a hole was revealed. When it was wide enough he assisted the others through it in turn. Buffy noted that for a small man he had a grip of iron.

Scrambling down the other side, having rescued the torches, they found themselves in yet another passage, although this one looked solid underfoot.

“Nearly there, my lady.”

Indeed he was right. At the end of the path was a single entrance to a dwelling. Nothing special, but Buffy instantly knew this was the place she’d needed to see. Instinctively, reaching behind her, she grasped Spike’s hand before going inside. Jontan’s cave was exactly as she’d pictured it, untouched save for a couple of neatly trimmed lanterns and fresh kindling left ready in a small fireplace, a narrow, flue rising above it. On the main wall was the image of a woman, her back to the viewer. About Buffy’s height, her hair fell in a tumble of rich earthy browns. She wore grey animal skin leggings, a tunic and knee length boots criss-crossed with leather. Both arms were bare save for a few thick bangles. In one hand was a double-edged axe, held aloft as if issuing a challenge, while the other was raised, palm forward, in mid-air. A figure seemed to be holding her, a shadowy outline, taller, male. Looking closely, it seemed to Buffy that the woman was tilting her neck slightly as if in invitation.

Dragging her eyes away at last, Buffy noticed a narrow shape lying against the far wall; it was wrapped in deep blue cloth.

“He wanted so much to meet you,” said Andii without being asked, “so we left him here. When all this is over I think he’d like to be taken outside. Buried in the warm soil under a bright sky.”

Without knowing why, Buffy went to crouch down next to Jontan’s remains. She rested her hand very lightly over the cloth, careful not to disturb anything.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Having reached their destination, it was a bit disappointing when nothing special happened. No previously hidden clues to find the axe revealed themselves. The runes surrounding the picture on the rock remained indecipherable. The earth didn’t rumble and there was no booming voice to offer supernatural advice.

Oddly, no-one minded much, or perhaps they were too exhausted to care. Snidda lit the fire while Andii produced ingredients to make a simple meal and they ate together, staring at the flames. None of them spoke much. Their meal over, each found a space and lay down to rest. Without needing to be asked, Spike joined Buffy and drew his own thick cloak over them both.

Perhaps sleep would bring some answers.

***

Something was wrong. The warm body that fitted so neatly against his was no longer there. Spike’s eyes snapped open. The whole room was bathed in an eerie blue light, pale flames flickering along the walls as if searching for something. Flinging off his cloak he approached Buffy. She was standing motionless, facing Saya’s image. Snidda and Andii were still fast asleep.

“Buffy, love, come here.” No response. “Buffy?” Oblivious to his words, Buffy raised her arm and reached out, resting her hand over the splayed fingers of the painted woman. The blue fire jumped eagerly to meet her.

“No!”

Spike grabbed her, but she resisted him, taking a step closer to the picture. He wrapped his arms around her waist and chest, pulling hard, but her strength was greater. The wall was becoming soft, like pudding, the rock dissolving, and, as it tugged her closer, an equal force began to repel Spike, pushing him back.

“Snidda! Andii! Help me!” Legs braced, he tried to stay anchored, but the same flames that embraced Buffy bit at his flesh, stabbing him brutally as he hung on with every desperate fibre of his being. He was going to fail.

Just as Buffy made full contact with the wall, she slowly tilted her head, baring her neck. Without thinking, Spike roughly sank his fangs into her, eyes rolling back as her essence poured through his veins, dark and sweet and for him alone. The fierce pressure ceased and instead became accepting, welcoming. As the entwined couple sank into the swirling portal, Spike dimly heard shouting from their companions. Something hit his back and Snidda’s voice travelled faintly over the rushing in his ears.

“Keep her safe, Spike. May the goddess help you both.”

Another step and he knew no more.