by Mel Odom
She switched on the flashlight she carried and went up the passageway carefully. It really wouldn’t do to break a leg now, she thought.
The Black Wind gang members had taken Lok and Jia Li, carrying brother and sister unceremoniously from the cave with the corpses. Lok had never come out of the catatonic state he was in and Jia Li had remained unconscious. The voice that had been in Willow’s head also stayed quiet, or it had gotten so weak that it could no longer make contact.
What if they took the station wagon or did something to it? Willow suddenly realized. It was a least a couple miles back to Sunnydale.
But in a few minutes more, she reached the beach. No gang members or demons were in sight. And the station wagon was right where she’d left it, not a mark on it. She went to it and climbed behind the wheel, then made tracks for Sunnydale only minutes away.
“The demon’s name is Sharmma. In old China, he was also called the Dread Dreaming. He was the chief demon among the Wryhrym. They were some of the last of the purebred demons who were thought to be dragons.”
Buffy stood off to one side, watching Shing as she studied the frozen picture of Zhiyong kneeling before the altar in his hidden room on the television screen. Even though Buffy had been reminded of what the Spirit Guardian had looked like, she hadn’t been prepared to meet her in the flesh.
Shing stood a few inches taller than Buffy, almost as tall as Xander. Okay, so maybe I had been predisposed to petite, Buffy admitted to herself. And the barely-there outfit was definitely something guys couldn’t ignore. The only one who seemed immune to the look that Shing had pulled together was Oz, who was tensely worried about Willow’s continued absence.
“What do you think of her?” Xander whispered at Buffy’s elbow. He carried pizza on a napkin with him. All of them ate something, but the meal definitely wasn’t as appreciated as much as it should have been.
Buffy hesitated for a moment. Well, she’s not human. Like she was one with any room to talk the way she was with Angel. “She’s tall,” she said, nodding. “Definitely tall.”
“And cute,” Xander pointed out.
“Gotta admit cute, too,” Buffy agreed.
“And wait until you see her in a fight. Man, she is like nobody else I’ve ever seen. She—”
Buffy froze Xander with a look. “Motor down, Fan Boy.” The homecoming queen competitive edge was ingrained within her and she didn’t try to ignore it. Not with Xander. Some people just needed to remember who they were dealing with.
Xander nodded. “Well, okay, so she’s like no one else I’ve ever seen with a sword.” He held his hands open. “Better?”
“Acceptable,” Buffy said. “Barely. I do occasional sword.”
“The best thing of all,” Xander said, “is that she likes me.”
Buffy looked at him and felt bad. Someone needed to tell Xander about Shing, but she just didn’t have the heart. Want star-crossed lovers? Take Xander and add any girl. “That’s really good, Xand,” she said instead. “Mutual liking is nice.”
“The only problem I see,” Xander said a little sadly, “is what it’s going to be like post-crisis.”
“Post-crisis?” Buffy asked.
“Yeah. Like after this morning. You know, after we kick Zhiyong’s butt and break all his creature toys.”
“We haven’t exactly figured out how we’re going to do that yet,” Buffy pointed out.
“Well, if Zhiyong wins, which I really don’t want to see him doing—even though this whole thing he’s done has let me meet Shing, which is not a bad thing but doesn’t make up for all the evilness—that kind of takes care of all the post-crisis wondering.”
“True,” Buffy admitted. She looked at Xander. “Don’t you maybe ask yourself if you’re rushing things?”
“Rushing?” Xander shook his head. “We’ve seen each other a couple of times now. Both times while kicking creepy creatures’ butts. Not exactly the dinner and a movie getting-to-know-you thing, but those who fight together tend to bond more quickly.”
Buffy acceded the point reluctantly.
“And in our little group, those who slay together tend to stay together. You and Dead Boy. Willow and Oz.”
“You and Cordy?” Buffy reminded.
“I blew that one,” Xander said. He gazed back at Shing. “But I’m not going to blow this one.”
“Xand,” Buffy said carefully, “sometimes things are just beyond our control.”
“Are you trying to tell me something here?”
Yes. “No.” Your girlfriend’s not human. “Seeing you in heavy . . . like has just brought out the protective, nurturing side of me, I guess. I just want you to be safe.”
“Well, I appreciate that,” Xander said testily, “but I was looking more for a friend who could be excited for me rather than a big sister. I mean, I finally find a girl who’s not a demon, not trying to eat my head, carve out my heart, drink my blood, sacrifice me to some dark demon-god, or even talk bad about me in the halls, and you can’t simply be happy for me.” He took a deep breath. “I find that very confusing. Excuse me.” He walked away, returning to the main group.
Oh, Xander. Buffy’s heart went out to him. She considered again telling him about Shing’s true nature, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Xander was a dreamer and didn’t admit anything when he didn’t want to—until he had no choice. Like the fact that his and Cordy’s relationship dissolved not just because of the Willow/Xander attraction, but because the relationship just wasn’t meant to be. It had been a near-miss, and Buffy knew those were the most painful to bear. It was one-degree separation, a small adjustment would make everything truly fantastic, but that one degree of separation gradually affected everything else.
Quietly, Buffy went to stand with the others, but she stayed on the other side of the group from Xander.
“As you may have guessed,” Shing was saying, “the dragon mythology that shaped much of ancient China came from the demons that still dwelled there at the time. Gradually, they were phased from our world and exiled to other worlds. Sharmma was among the last of the purebreds to go, fighting against the arrival of mankind with every power he possessed. For many demons, this world is paradise, and they want nothing more than to get back from the places they were exiled to.”
Buffy knew that was true from the times she’d glimpsed those other worlds.
“Then dragons—the Wryhrym, actually—did cause the flooding of ancient China?” Cordelia asked.
“They didn’t cause it,” Shing replied, “but they took advantage of it. They tried to make a stand, tried to push back encroaching mankind. Sharmma was the worst of them. He unleashed the Dread Dreaming.”
“The hopping vampires that came after the floods and killed the survivors, you mean?” Giles asked.
“Yes.”
“Did Sharmma create the hopping vampires? Some of the texts Cordelia and I perused suggested that he might have.”
“No. The hopping vampires have been around since the emergence of mankind. Actually, they’re more ghosts than vampires, though the terms have become interchangeable. We believe that when a person dies, their po —their main soul—is released. If that person has lived a good and full life, their po ascends to heaven where he or she takes his or her place as a representative of the family. This is why ancestors are so highly prized in our culture. However, if the person died a tragic and untimely death, his or her po is trapped here in this world and doomed to be a destructive entity with an intelligence just a step above an animal’s.”
“The guei,” Buffy said, remembering what Willow had told her only last night in the Emerald Lotus Cemetery.
“Gooey?” Xander repeated, looking slightly miffed that she’d interrupted Shing’s presentation.
“Guei,” Buffy said. “Hungry ghosts. They kind of wander around tearing up things, punishing descendants who haven’t seen to it they were avenged or properly laid to rest. In general, they’re just mean and vindictive.”
&nbs
p; “Exactly,” Shing said. “In this state, the po can also be called a hungry ghost. But there is one more transformation the guei can make. If their corpses are still available to them, they can be returned to them and make a more forceful presence among the living. In ancient China during the days of the dragon floods, this state was called the Dread Dreaming. Sharmma collected the pos of those who perished in the flood, bound them back to their decaying flesh, and directed their anger at those who had survived. You can imagine the horror of those survivors when they were hunted through the flooded lands by those they had only just lost.”
The image caused Buffy to shiver.
“Have you heard of the Chung Yuan Festival?” Shing asked.
“The Ceremony of Universal Salvation,” Cordelia said quickly. “It happens in the seventh lunar month. Our October. It’s during the Ghost Month.”
Shing nodded. “During that time every year, festivals are held to honor and free the guei that still walk through this world. These lost po don’t just come from accidents, they also come from wars. So you can see there are a great number of them. The Chung Yuan Festival invites these lost po to a feast and ritual where Taoist and Buddhist priests conduct the ceremony. Once the ceremony is completed, lit candles are placed in boats or lanterns and floated down a river, or on a lake or ocean.”
“To guide the guei out of this world,” Giles said.
“Yes. You have to remember, though, that these are the bodiless po. The others, the ones who have bodies— either their own or bodies of living persons they have possessed—remain here until they are destroyed.”
“Destroying the corporeal body frees the soul?” Angel asked from the edge of the room.
“Yes.”
Buffy looked at Angel, thinking back to Christmas when Angel had sought release and gone to destroy himself. Only he had been saved.
“Following the lights during the Chung Yuan Festival leads the hungry ghosts to an underworld called the Yellow Springs, ruled by the Lord of Hell,” Shing said. “They remain there until they are reabsorbed back into the Tao, and their families no longer have to worry about them or the trouble they will make.”
Buffy turned her attention back to the television set. “The Spirit Guardians were responsible for putting Sharmma out of business?”
“Yes.”
“So if he’s gone, why is Zhiyong chanting to him?”
“Zhiyong is descended from a man named Gun,” Shing said. “He was the first man King Shun ordered to solve the flood problems. Gun tried to appease the dragons, the Wryhrym demons, and in doing so, he lost his soul. For nine years Gun toiled in the valley of the Huanghe River. You know it as the Yellow River. Some years were better than others, but still the floods came and still people died. During that time, the power of the Wryhrym increased. But Gun did not willingly give in to the demons. They lied to him.”
“Boy,” Xander said, “that’s one of the things you can always count on from demons.”
Shing smiled at him and Buffy saw a little of the chemistry between them.
“Gun tried to take the demons’ power away by stealing a magickal material the demons used to build their own homes among the flooded lands,” Shing said.
“The magic earth referred to in the legends,” Cordelia said.
Shing nodded. “Only even in this he played into Sharmma’s hands. Instead of trying to drain the lands, Gun tried to contain the waters by dikes, building them bigger and taller. With the demon material, he was able to construct them even more quickly and bigger than ever. But it only made the problem greater, saving up more and more water for when the demons chose to strike again. Still, the people believed in what Gun was doing. They came back down from the mountains and built their homes in the valleys again. One day, the first of those dams broke, which caused the others to break, until a huge mountain of water cascaded through the valleys, destroying everything that lay in its path. Including Gun.”
“King Shun appointed a man named Yu to the flooding problem after that,” Giles said. “He solved the problem by digging channels and draining the water rather than holding it back.”
“Exactly,” Shing said. “Tien Lung, the demon who helped found the Spirit Guardians, was also known as a dragon named Yinglong. He gave Yu the plans to drain the valleys. In the years that followed, the floods were eliminated and the demons’ strongholds were broken. They were forced from this world.”
“How does this relate to Zhiyong being a descendant of Gun?” Cordelia asked.
“Gun’s bloodline was tainted by the demons as part of his bargain,” Shing said. “There has always been a link between Gun’s descendants and Sharmma.”
“Zhiyong is human,” Angel said.
“Yes, he is human,” Shing agreed. “And as such, he belongs to this world. Only one of Gun’s descendants out of every generation has the link to Sharmma. As long as it lasts, Sharmma has a conduit back into this world.”
“Do you think Zhiyong is trying to call Sharmma back into this world?” Giles asked.
“I don’t think Zhiyong is that strong.” Shing hesitated. “Zhiyong is also the last of his line. He has fathered no children, no future possible vessels to carry on Sharmma’s link.”
“Now that,” Buffy said, “sounds like pressure.”
“Yes. Zhiyong has become more powerful, wealthier than any of Sharmma’s past links. And he is the first to actively seek Sharmma’s blessings, the first who was truly evil. Gun was not an evil man, only a gullible one.”
“But what is Zhiyong doing in Sunnydale?” Buffy asked. “China sounds like it would be the hot spot for him.”
“I have not been able to uncover much,” Shing said. “Zhiyong is very powerful, very hard to get next to. And he has an army of demons surrounding him. Those lesser demons are descended from demons that once served the Wryhrym. For thousands of years they have been out of the sight of most men. Until Zhiyong called them into his service.”
“But something brought you here,” Giles stated.
“I followed Zhiyong,” Shing said, “after it was discovered that he had bridged a link to Sharmma. The others followed me.”
“Other Spirit Guardians, you mean,” Giles said.
“Yes.”
“So what brought Zhiyong to Sunnydale?” Buffy asked again. “Besides all the tourist attractions.”
“In 1853,” Shing said, “a mining accident killed thirty-seven men. Thirty-five of them were Chinese laborers. Zhiyong came here looking for them, but I don’t know why. So far, their bodies have never been found.”
“That’s not exactly true anymore,” a familiar voice said.
Chapter 24
BUFFY TURNED AND SAW WILLOW—TRUE, A DISHEVELED, dirty, and fatigued Willow—but a welcome sight nonetheless. Despite the whole ticking clock thing, Buffy smiled and joined the others in welcoming her friend back. Oz made it to Willow first, sweeping her up in his arms and holding her tight. Then Xander was there. Buffy did manage to beat Giles. Angel, as usual, stayed apart, but the relief was evident on his face even if he did try to remain taciturn. Cordelia smiled broadly, but didn’t join in the group hug.
“I would have called,” Willow apologized after the welcoming back was done, “but I thought we might be cutting it close on time.”
“Dawn,” Oz said, not letting go of her.
“As in this dawn?” Willow asked.
“Yup.”
Willow took a deep breath. “Okay, nothing like pressure to keep you going.”
“Will,” Buffy reminded, “you said something about the bodies of those miners being found.”
“They have been,” Willow said. “I watched Black Wind gang members sack up the corpses and carry them away.”
Willow told her story while the rest of the pizza Xander had brought was scarfed down with renewed enthusiasm. They sat around the big table in the library. They’d pooled their change together to get canned beverages from the vending machines in the lounge.
�
��Why would they look for the bodies in the first place?” Giles asked.
“The pos,” Shing answered, her brows knitted in contemplation.
One thing the Spirit Guardian did have working for her was that intense look, Buffy decided. Studious just seemed to come naturally for her.
“What about the pos?” Buffy asked.
“They have been trapped within the bodies buried deep in the earth,” Shing explained. “That’s why Lok Rong’s ancestor reached out to him so strongly and for so long. They’ve been locked up all this time, going more and more insane.”
Okay, Buffy thought, bad enough to have malicious ghosts without having demented malicious ghosts.
“Why haven’t those ghosts reached out to other people?” Oz asked.
“Not everyone is as susceptible to them as Lok apparently is,” Shing answered. “Willow is also susceptible to them because of her ability in witchcraft.”
“Zhiyong has the corpses now,” Buffy said, “the big question is what he’s going to do with them.”
Shing shook her head. “I don’t know. I only found out that he was searching for them here. I came hoping to prevent him from using them. They deserve their chance at eternal rest.”
“But now Zhiyong has the corpses, and the pos, and a plan that comes together by dawn,” Giles said. “What we need is a way to find him.”
“Storming his offices is out,” Buffy said. “They’ll be more prepared this time, and I doubt he’s there.”
“There may be a way,” Willow said quietly.
Everyone around the library table looked at her.
“But it might be kind of risky,” she added.
Willow sat on folded legs in the middle of the library, and in the middle of the chalked pentagram she’d drawn while chanting protection spells. Candles burned in the five points of the star and she hoped it didn’t accumulate enough to set off the sprinklers.
“Are you sure about this, Willow?” Oz asked from outside the circle. He was barely visible in the shadows that wreathed the pentagram since Giles had turned the lights off.
