Chapter 24

“I see. And how did she…? Ah-ha. Yes, that’s good. Is there anything that reveals where she- No, I expect that would be too easy. But she’s perfectly well? And the people?”

Giles sat on the couch, a pen moving quickly over the pages of one of DawnÂ’s school notebooks. He had been on the phone with Wesley for the past fifteen minutes, and the only thing he had related to the Scooby Gang was that Buffy was alive and in one piece. They were, of course relieved to hear that, but soon they had become antsy to hear more details.

Xander stood nearby, watching Giles intently while hopping from foot to foot. Anya was next to Xander, trying desperately to get him to stop hopping. Spike sat on the floor in front of the couch, a blanket over his head and around his shoulders in order to avoid the morning sunÂ’s rays. He tapped out a nervous tattoo on his thighs, every now and then quietly singing a snatch of some Ramones tune. Willow stood anxiously in the doorway by the dining room, her arms crossed over her chest, and her hands clenching and unclenching sporadically. Tara stood opposite Willow, giving her a worried glance every now and then.

Dawn was in the kitchen. She was the only one allowed to listen in on an extension, claiming it was her right, being the Slayer’s sister and all. “Listen only,” Giles had told her sternly, “don’t talk.” He needed to get as much information as possible, without interruptions. As far as they knew, Dawn was in the kitchen, biting her lip until it bled to keep from bursting and asking a hundred questions.

“And do you think they’re really-?… What? Oh, fascinating.” Giles shook his head, his expression one of utter bafflement. “That’s fascinating. Yes, I wish I could have seen for myself, I-”

“…I wanna be sedated…” came from Spike’s corner of the room and everyone turned sharply to shush him. They made no sound, just frantic hand gestures, and angry mouthings of ‘shut up’ directed his way. Spike rolled his eyes and gave them all the two-fingered salute.

Giles was oblivious to all and continued on with the conversation. “She did?” He said and then paused as Wesley spoke again. “That’s… interesting. And not at all surprising, sad to say. Who won?” He chuckled when he heard the answer, and the others heard Dawn’s disdainful mutter of “lame” from the kitchen.

Giles was scribbling furious notes and Xander had made several attempts to peek over the WatcherÂ’s shoulder and see for himself what the situation was. Unfortunately he couldnÂ’t decipher the squiggles and scratches. He gave up after the fourth try, and went back to hopping.

“Guy writes worse than a doctor on smack,” he told the group, as they looked to him for information.

“Sweetie, please stop doing that, you know what that reminds me of,” Anya implored, tugging on Xander’s arm.

Xander stilled his movements, and gave his fiancée a quick kiss. “Sorry, babe,” he whispered.

“No, I’ve never seen any. Or heard of them actually existing. One hears countless tales, but… Yes, fax that over, please, I’ll see if I can find something on it.” He listened for a moment, and then frowned. “What did Cordelia just yell? Hot? They were… oh, hot. I see.”

At the word ‘hot’ Xander looked alarmed, and his gaze locked with Willow’s. “Hot?” he shouted. “Does that mean she’s in hell?”

“Shh,” Giles briefly turned to shush Xander, and went back to his conversation. “And she… really?” At whatever Wesley told him, Giles sat up in surprise. “That is strange. They must be very friendly then.” He went back to making notes. “Fax the drawings too, would you? To the Magic Box, yes. Is that everything?” He listened again, this time for a longer stretch, writing and looking very perplexed. “Hmm…” was all he said to whatever information Wesley had imparted.

“Well, I’ll look into it, and you do the same, and we’ll compile our research in say, three days?” Giles said into the receiver, and waited for an answer. “Good enough.” Pause. “Yes?” Another pause. “Yes.” Then a really long pause. “She was?” Giles smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He gave a short, happy laugh.

During this exchange, Xander began to hop again, and Spike beat his forehead against his knees. Willow started pacing, and stopped in surprise when Tara reached out to stop her. Their hands met and clasped, and Tara smiled at Willow, who offered a tentative smile in return. They turned to face the living room and waited in anxious anticipation for Giles to finish and hang up.

“Thank you, Wesley, I- we all appreciate it. Yes, thank you. Goodbye.” With a huge sigh, Giles finally hung up the phone, and stood to address the group.

Everyone began to speak at once, hurling questions at the Watcher, and Dawn came bursting into the room, smiling and tearful. As if she were unaware of everyone elseÂ’s voices, she began relating what sheÂ’d heard.

“Oh my God, they saw her! They-”

“What did he say, where is she?”

“And she’s in this place with these really hot-”

“Is there any way we can go and get her?”

“Is she with people or all alone?”

“And one really little guy who has a-”

“Is Buffy okay, is she in any danger?”

“Isn’t she always?”

“She’s fine, she even fought with one of them and it was just-”

“When are you all gonna shut up and let the man speak?” Spike yelled over everyone, and everyone finally quieted down.

Giles had been holding up both hands against the assault, and when it ended, he gave a grateful nod of thanks to the bleached vampire. He removed his glasses, and the group became even more hushed as they noticed that Giles was wiping his eyes. He passed a hand over his forehead, and took a deep breath.

Smiling through his tears, he said, “She’s okay. She’s perfectly fine, and among friendly people.”

Tara gasped with relief, covering her mouth with both hands. Willow began to weep quietly, and Xander put an arm around Anya. Dawn ran over to Spike first, and kissed his cheek. He smiled in embarrassment, and waved her away, so she trotted over to Tara, who hugged the girl close.

“So… where is she?” Xander’s voice cracked, and Anya gave him a supportive squeeze.

Giles looked uneasily at the hopeful and teary faces and sighed. “Well, we don’t know, er, exactly-” At this, the group erupted again, and Giles sank back onto the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dear Lord,” he muttered.

“I thought this thing was supposed to tell us where she was-”

“Maybe it just shows you but doesn’t tell. It’s a show-and-not-tell… thingie.”

“How are we supposed to figure it out?”

“Nice piece of work. All that trouble and it’s leavin’ us to puzzle it all out.”

“It’s not a bleeding television show!” Giles bellowed, having had quite enough of this cacophony. The noise ended again as he continued on his rant, flailing his arms demonstratively. “It’s not going to put up huge letters in bold type font announcing ‘Buffy’s in the what’s-it-called dimension’ is it?”

“Guess not,” Xander murmured sheepishly.

“Be handy if it did, though,” Anya mused.

Giles took a breath and calmed himself down. “Unfortunately nothing could be heard by Angel’s team through the Axis. They could only see what was going on, and guess at what was happening. But, we have some clues.” He tapped the notebook with his fingers. “We’re going to have to hit the research pretty hard, but I trust that you all are up to the task. This is all good news, we needn’t worry at the moment that she’s in any danger-”

“What about the fighting?” Xander asked fretfully. “I thought I heard Dawn say-”

“Oh, that was just a friendly duel, Wesley said,” Dawn reassured him. “Maybe they wanted to see what she could do, or they wanted to settle something, so she had a swordfight with one of them.”

“Couldn’t they just do the old rock, paper, scissors?” Xander quipped, a bit incredulous. “What kind of people is she with, anyway?”

Giles coughed, and exchanged an amused glance with Dawn. “Actually, they did eventually settle with er, rock, paper, scissors.” At everyone’s confused looks, the Watcher explained. “Buffy and her opponent were equally matched, and the fight went on for some hours before they decided to try another way.”

“And Buffy lost,” Dawn provided.

Giles chuckled. “Yes, well. In any case, Buffy is in the company of four… well, males anyway. We don’t know exactly what they are-”

“But Wesley said one of them was a dwarf,” Dawn countered.

“Wait, a ‘little person’ dwarf, or a dwarf of the ‘Heigh-ho’ variety?” Xander asked.

“The er, latter, actually. He has long, braided hair and a lengthy beard. All the people she was with were dressed rather archaically, tunics and hose and the like as well as some armor for the dwarf. He even carried an axe, and smoked a pipe,” Giles answered with a grin.

“And the other ones?” Willow asked, intrigued.

“Um, tall. Long hair, fair faces, and-”

“And totally hot, Cordy said!” Dawn squealed excitedly to the group.

“Wow, three hot guys and a dwarf,” Anya said thoughtfully. “The possibilities are endless.”

“And two of them are twins!” Dawn added at a high pitch that could only be heard by dogs.

“Oooh!” said Anya.

Giles cleared his throat loudly, sending Anya a disapproving glare. “Wesley did say that Cordelia and this other girl, er Fred seemed to think the other three were very attractive, it’s true.” He shifted uncomfortably. “But there were other characteristics that seemed to point…” Here he laughed to himself. “To what they are. For one thing, they glowed.”

“Oooh-kaaay,” said Xander.

“Glowed like how?” Willow asked with a puzzled frown. “Like glowworms?”

“Er, no, it was sort of an otherworldly, ethereal-ish light that emanated from their bodies. Sort of all around, and er,” Giles attempted. “Very hard to explain. Especially since I have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“Must be handy to have around when the power goes out,” quipped Spike.

“Does anyone else think that sounds kinda gay?” Xander asked, and then his eyes widened when he met Willow and Tara’s censuring stares. “Uhh… not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he amended.

Giles crossed his arms and continued. “Their ears were pointed as well. Wesley thinks they may be elves.” He glared at Xander before the young man could pipe up. “And not of the Santa or cookie-making kind, either. Angel made some sketches, and Wesley will be sending those over along with his notes.”

“Elves exist?” Tara said excitedly.

“Not in this world they don’t,” answered Anya. “It’s another example of one of the few times that a myth is just a myth. No elves, no fairies, no sprites or leprechauns.” When everyone looked at her questioningly she rolled her eyes. “I’ve been around for a long time. And I am Swedish, you know. I was born in Sweden, didn’t I mention that?” At her friend’s shaking heads, she muttered. “Hm. Weird. Anyways, elves are in Norse mythology, but they don’t really exist, which is odd, since we did have trolls living in the hills around my hometown, so you’d think you’d have everything else that goes along with them.” She shrugged, dismissing the thought. “And Santa’s elves weren’t originally elves in the folktales. They were gnomes or dwarves. Something got lost in the translation, because elves aren’t supposed to be teeny-tiny.”

“‘Cause these guys are tall, and really hot!” Dawn added.

“Are you capable of saying anything else, Bit?” Spike frowned in irritation, quite put out that Buffy was somewhere with three attractive men. “They’re probably pansies, anyway.”

“Elves and a dwarf. Sounds like Buffy’s in fairy tale land or something,” Willow observed.

“Maybe she should just follow the yellow brick road.” Xander laughed at his own joke.

Giles cleared his throat. “In any case, they appeared to be camping whilst traveling. There were horses nearby and a campfire as well as other camping accoutrements.”

“And camping and Buffy? So not mixy,” said Dawn sagely.

“True,” Willow nodded.

“So how do we find out?” Tara asked. “Where Buffy is, I mean?”

“We’ve got some more clues,” Giles replied. “And we’ll research day and night, like I said. And who knows?” He added with a wry glance at Anya. “Perhaps we’ll find out that elves exist after all.”

* * *

“Elves do not exist!” Cordelia exclaimed in exasperation. “There are no elves in this world. Not real ones, anyway.” She shoved the enormous tome she’d been studying away from her, and turned back to her computer screen. It had nothing to offer her either. “I’m done with this episode of ‘In Search Of’.”

“Keep looking, Cordy, it’s our only lead.” Wesley urged her plaintively. “I can’t find any language that uses this particular script anywhere, and my astronomical pursuit hasn’t turned up anything at all.”

“Wesley, elves aren’t real,” Cordy said irritably. “Neither are fairies or leprechauns or anything with pointy ears and wings.”

“They didn’t have wings,” Fred corrected her, and then had a thought. “Or maybe they did, but underneath their clothes.” She smiled dreamily at the notion, and then sheepishly got back to work.

“Well, they’re real in whatever world Buffy is in,” Wesley said determinedly, and grabbed a book on Norse mythology. He turned to a dog-eared page, and shoved an elaborate drawing of a tall, lean man with long hair and pointed ears at Cordelia.

Cordy studied the picture, noting the dress and look of the figure was very similar to the men they’d seen with Buffy. “Okay, maybe, but I’m getting zilch in the elf department. How ‘bout you, Fred?”

“Nothin’.” The Texan shook her head. “Mostly myths, but no reports of real sightings or close encounters or anything.”

“Well, people just didn’t think them up from nowhere,” Angel growled from the doorway. “It has to be based on something.”

Wesley thought for a moment. “Perhaps,” he began, and then he started rifling through his notes again. “Perhaps they aren’t native to this world, but-” he started to write his theory down as he spoke. “Just like Buffy got transported to their world, some of them came to this one, and-”

“And you figure someone, somewhere got a look at them, maybe got to know a few, and then made up some stories.” Cordy finished.

“Exactly.” Wesley looked up at the ex-cheerleader and nodded. “My thought exactly.”

“Only question now is, are they still around?” Angel uttered thoughtfully. “If there were some here, where did they go? They must have stayed well-hidden after a while to have left no trace.”

“Or they all died out,” Fred added worriedly.

“Well, there’s a few ways to find out without looking through all these books,” Gunn, who had been quietly researching up until now, suggested. “There’s always word-of-mouth.”

“Hit the streets,” Angel interpreted needlessly.

Cordy stood up and stretched. “I could definitely use some exercise, and fresh- well, air, anyway.” She made a grab for her purse. “And maybe a drink afterwards.”

Angel pulled on his jacket and headed out of the office towards the hotel’s front door. “Gunn, you and I will head underground, check out the demon circuit.”

“Hit up some real old ones for the 411 on elves, got it.” Gunn sprang from his seat, eager to be up and doing.

“Cordy, Fred, Wes, you guys go to all the magic and supernatural book shops you can find. Take the copy of my sketches, they might help.” Angel turned, his long black coat fluttering behind him, and walked out into the night.

“I think he meant to say ‘please’ in there somewhere,” Gunn smirked at his three co-workers, and followed Angel out the door.

“We’ll meet up at Caritas. Call me on your mobile when you’re done!” Wes called after the younger man, who waved back to show he’d heard him.

Cordy heaved a long sigh. “Why do I have the feeling this is gonna take forever?”

* * *

Hours later, the five members of Angel Investigations sat glumly at a table in the dimly lit Caritas, listening to some purple demon belt out and consequently butcher “Delta Dawn”.

“So, you guys got funny looks and shrugs, and we got snickered at by everyone we asked.” Gunn summed up the group’s efforts, and took a swig of his beer. “Productive night.”

“No one’s ever seen an elf,” Cordy muttered, leaning on her hand tiredly.

“Or heard of one,” Fred appended.

“There’s got to be someone somewhere-” Wesley began, but was cut off by loud cheering and applause. The purple demon had finished, blessedly, and Lorne stepped up to the mike.

“Thanks, Rathgar, for that uh, original interpretation.” The Host waved the demon off the stage, and then turned to the audience. “It’s my break time, kittens. Enjoy the pre-recorded music, and order more drinks. I’ve still got to pay for the renovations on this place.”

The bizarrely but impeccably dressed Lorne spotted Angel and his cohorts from the stage. He headed over to them as quickly as he could. “Welcome back, welcome back,” he smiled and waved at Fred. “Hey there, Freddy my love, how’s life in the ‘not-so-crazy lane?”

Fred gave the green demon a big smile. “Oh, it’s pretty good. It’s nice not to be loopy anymore.”

“Glad to hear it.” Lorne then eyed Gunn cautiously. “You didn’t bring any more of your old friends to my reopening, did you?”

Gunn shook his head, his expression regretful. “Not tonight. Sorry about that, by the way.”

Lorne nodded gratefully. “Ah well, bygones are bygones, but let’s not do that again anytime soon, okay?” Seeing Gunn nod, he looked around at the group’s morose faces. “Why so glum? They didn’t cancel ‘Andy Richter Controls the Universe’ did they?”

“I hope not!” Fred replied anxiously, and then recalled herself when her co-workers stared at her in amusement. “It’s a good show,” she added quietly.

“We’ve got a bit of a conundrum here, Lorne, that’s all,” Wesley assured the demon.

Lorne grabbed a chair from a neighboring table and drew it up so he could sit. “Anything I can help sort out?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’re aware of a girl called the Vampire Slayer, Lorne, but-”

“Oh please, Wes!” Lorne waved his hand with a dismissive air. “That girl was plastered all over Angel’s aura the first time he sang for me. I know all about her.”

Everyone eyed Angel with interest, and the vampire shifted uncomfortably. “All about her?” he echoed.

“I’ll keep it to myself, Angel-cake,” Lorne assured him. He gestured for Wesley to continue.

Wesley nodded, but instead of giving Lorne a summing-up of the situation, he started to go from the beginning, describing BuffyÂ’s mysterious disappearance, and intending to go through every boring detail. Saving them all from this long-winded recap was the more-to-the point Cordelia.

“Long story short: lost slayer in a different dimension with a bunch of elves and a dwarf, need to know the name of this dimension and how to get there.” She took a long sip from her glass of wine. “So far we’ve got nothing.”

Lorne frowned, his red eyes suddenly becoming introspective. “Elves?” he muttered.

“We think they’re elves, in any case. Pointy ears, long hair, glowing skin,” Wesley said informatively. “But we don’t know what the name of their native dimension is, or if any came to this world that might help us.”

“This being the reason for the long faces,” Gunn quipped. “Nobody knows any elves.”

Angel had taken notice of Lorne’s far-off and contemplative expression, and seized the opportunity. “Lorne? You know something?”

The demon formerly referred to as The Host focused his eyes back on the expectant faces of the group. “I think I can help you,” he said with a smile.

Angel stood up abruptly. “Tell us what you know,” he demanded. “Is there somewhere else we can talk?”

“Yep. At the hotel, after I close the club in…” Lorne checked his watch. “Three hours to go.”

“Lorne, we really need to know this now,” Angel set his jaw, and took a threatening stance.

“Angel, baby, I’ve got a business to run. I can’t leave the club, and I can’t hob-nob with you for an hour or two while neglecting these folks. I’m willing to help you out, but the bullying crap has got to stop. It was cute at first, but now you’re just getting on my nerves.” Lorne’s usual cheerful demeanor slipped away to reveal a hard glint that allowed no challenge. Of course, Angel ignored it.

“Angel, I think we can wait-” Wesley began, but the vampire stayed stubborn.

“I’m not leaving until we get his story,” he growled, and the whole group rolled their eyes in exasperation. Angel really needed to be a little more flexible sometimes.

“Then you’re staying until closing,” Lorne retorted, sticking to his guns. “Honey, I’ve got paying customers, and my break time is up.” He stood, reinforcing his point. “Plus, I’ve got a new bartender who can make a mean Seabreeze. I’ll come to the hotel after I close.” With that, he sauntered away, and the gang all but dragged a somewhat subdued Angel out of the bar, as a rollicking version of “Heart of Glass” got underway.

Very late that same night, Lorne came to the Hyperion, as he had promised, still clad in his white jacket and pants, and sporting an electric blue button-down shirt. Angel called the crew to the lobby, Fred having gone upstairs to catch a little sleep, and Gunn and Cordelia training with swords in the basement. Wesley, who had been in the office, researching madly, emerged with his well-used notepad.

“So,” Angel stood, his hands stuffed in his pants pockets. “You said you could help us? What do you know?”

“It’s more like who do I know,” Lorne corrected the vampire. “Or is it whom? I can never remember…” He took a seat on the plush red pouf. “Ah well, grammar was never my strong suit.”

“Okay, so who or whom do you know? Gettin’ kinda late, and we’re all pretty beat,” Gunn crossed his arms, waiting for the demon to give them something other than chatter.

“I know an elf,” Lorne revealed dramatically. He paused as the group looked at each other in astonishment. “Say, could someone get me something to wet my whistle with? Hey, say that five times fast,” he laughed. “I’m parched.”

Fred jumped up and darted into the office, and Angel stepped toward Lorne, urging him to say more. “You know an elf? Pointy ears and all?” he asked, with raised eyebrows.

“That’s right. I haven’t seen him in forever, but I think he’s still around. Lives somewhere near the Redwood Forest, I think.”

“Where did you meet him?” came from Wesley, who was ready to take notes.

“The first time I came across him was really soon after I arrived in this dimension,” Lorne intoned as he adopted a storytellers pose. “I was still honing my mystical skills, you know, reading people’s auras and the like but I wasn’t really getting specific readings for some reason.”

Fred brought over a bottle of water for their demon friend, who took it with an aside of “Thanks, Freddikins”. He opened it up, took a sip, and sighed, crossing one leg over the other, and staring into the distance and into his memory.

“This guy, he was an elf?” Angel prompted, impatient to know everything at once.

“Keep your pants on, Angel, I’m telling my story,” Lorne smirked a second later. “Or don’t keep them on, whatever floats your boat.”

“Lorne,” Angel growled.

“All right, all right. Yeah, he’s an elf. I was walking down a deserted beach early in the AM; deserted beaches being the only ones I can frequent. Anyhoo, as I walked I could hear this incredibly exquisite voice, singing somewhere down the strand. It was so captivating, I just stopped in my tracks, and closed my eyes to listen.” He closed his eyes, reveling in the memory of that unearthly sound. “After a few seconds though, I started seeing things as he sang. This beautiful world, full of people that glowed. Gorgeous beaches and lush forests. Ahh, you just don’t see places like that anymore.” Shaking his head, he took another sip of water.

“It dawned on me that I was seeing this singer’s life, his home and his people really clearly. I couldn’t understand the song, since it was in a language I’d never heard before, but I knew what he was singing about. Heartfelt stuff. It was then that I realized that I could read people so much more easily when they sang.

“I started to walk closer to the sound, and as I did, the song got darker.” Lorne uncrossed his legs and leaned forward clutching the water bottle with both hands. “Boy, the things he started singing about woulda turned your skin green,” he said with a laugh. “But, hey, already green, so…”

“Bad things?” Fred asked, entranced by the story so far. “Was he evil?”

Lorne turned to Fred, and tilted his head thoughtfully. “Evil? Not essentially, no. But… he and his family got mixed up in something that got way out of control. He was the only one with a rational head on his shoulders, but he couldn’t prevent his brothers from… well, that’s not important right now. He made some big mistakes, let’s put it that way. And now he wanders here in exile, grieving for his misdeeds.”

“Who does that sound like?” Cordelia uttered sarcastically.

“I don’t wander around,” Angel said defensively. “And I don’t sing on beaches.”

“Thank God,” Gunn said under his breath.

“So, he’s from another world, then? And definitely an elf?” Wesley asked eagerly.

“Yup.” Lorne sat back again. “A parallel world. Or universe, if you’d rather. And yes, I got from his singing that he was of a race of people called the Eldar. Pointy ears, long hair, glowy skin. Just like your guys.”

Wesley was now taking notes with a vengeance. “And this parallel universe is called…?”

“Arda,” answered Lorne.

“You’re sure?” Wesley asked, scribbling the name down. “This was a while ago, is your memory clear?”

“Oh yes,” Lorne assured him. “You don’t forget that first time you really read a person’s history. That moment was cathartic for me. I hadn’t really known what I was going to do with myself until that day. I decided then and there that I was going to open Caritas. I even invited the elf to come and sing on opening night.”

“You spoke with him?”

“Oh yeah. Beautiful man. Sad, though. He was playing a harp as he sang, and I asked him if he played guitar instead. Harp really doesn’t sell seats. Or drinks. He said he could, but he preferred the harp.”

“The harp? He had one of those huge things on a beach?” Cordelia asked dubiously.

“No, sweetie, the small, strolling bard, hand-held type,” Lorne grinned. “Much easier on the back when you’re walking up and down the beach, singing sad songs.”

“What was his name? Can we find him? How long has he been here?” Wesley fired off one question after another, too enthused to wait for answers.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Lorne held up his hands to stem the tide. “Take a breath, and give me a second, will you? His name is something I need to think about.”

“Thought you said you remembered everything about that very special moment,” Gunn remarked roguishly.

“Hey, he had a long list of names he used, none of which were the one he got from mom and pop. He’s been here for several millennia and I’m trying to remember the last one he went by, so excuse me if it takes me a minute or two,” Lorne sniped.

“Take your time.” Angel stood and headed for the office.

“Going to look up Arda?” Lorne called after him. “You won’t find it in any of your books.”

Angel stopped in his tracks and turned. “Why not?”

“It’s a parallel universe, not a hell dimension, silly.”

“So?” Cordelia shrugged.

“So, it’s not a place you can get to from here,” Lorne chided her.

“Parallel universe, alternate dimensions and realities, what’s the flippin’ difference? Aren’t they all basically the same thing?” Cordy asked, mystified and annoyed.

“Not really,” Fred interjected. “Alternate realities are like, worlds that form from different possible outcomes of a situation. Reality and time do this fork thing.” Cordy still looked confused, so Fred attempted to give a simple explanation. “Say you had to make a big decision. Or even a little one, but it had a big impact on the universe. An alternate reality could be created out of a wish to see what would have happened if you’d done something different.”

“That sounds vaguely familiar, but go on,” said Cordy, beginning to understand.

“Hell dimensions, well they’re… here, Wesley, can I borrow that?” Fred held out a hand for Wesley’s notepad and pen, and he handed both to her. She flipped to a clean page, and started sketching out a crude drawing. “It’s just my theory, but… here’s us.” She pointed to a straight, horizontal line in the middle of the page. “And here’s the hell dimensions.” She drew several more lines close to and beneath the first one. “There’s lots, and they’re kind of layered on top of one another.” She then began to draw some lines way up at the top of the page.

“What are those?” Gunn leaned in to look at Fred’s example.

“Heavenly dimensions,” the young physicist answered. “There’s lots of those too, but they’re farther away. Hell dimensions are easy to get to, if you can find an open portal or hot spot, and you know a way in.”

“Like the Hellmouth,” Angel offered, and Fred nodded.

“Or the one in the library that took me to Pylea,” she added, her voice cracking a little at the memory. Cordy and Gunn both put a comforting hand on each of the girl’s shoulders.

“So where’s the parallel universe?” Cordy inquired.

“On the other side of this,” Fred told them, flipping the notepad over to show the back of the page. “Or right next to it, I haven’t really fleshed out that part yet.”

“So why is it so hard to get to?” Gunn stepped away, trying to work out the mind-bending theory. “I mean it’s right next door, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and no.” Fred smiled a little whimsically and shrugged. “The inter-dimensional walls within our own universe can be penetrated more easily. It’s harder to go on the flip side. The walls between us and this Arda place are probably thicker, if what Lorne says is true. That it’s hard to get to.”

“You can’t get there from here,” Lorne averred, sounding like a farmer from Maine.

“So someone or something with a lot of power must have given Buffy a way to get to Arda,” Angel concluded.

“And someone or something very powerful brought Lorne’s friend here,” Wesley concluded as well.

“His friend with a thousand names,” Cordelia grumbled. “Remember any of them yet?”

“Yep. Doran. Doran was the name I used to introduce him at the club.” Lorne strode forward with his hands in his pockets, satisfied with himself.

“That’s an Irish name,” Angel murmured.

“Do you know what it means?” asked Wesley.

“I think it means ‘wanderer’,” Angel responded. “Or maybe ‘one in exile’. But you said that wasn’t his original name?” he asked Lorne, who shook his head.

“Nope. But I can’t say I blame him for changing it. His real one sounds like some Earth-conquering power-mad alien from a sci-fi series.”

“And this name was…” Cordelia prompted.

“Maglor. It was Maglor.”

AuthorÂ’s Note: If you donÂ’t know who Maglor is, kiddies, youÂ’d better bone up on your Silmarillion! ThatÂ’s all IÂ’ll say about it for now. Many thanks to my beta, slayer9649 for working on this chapter despite being ill. Please get better!

Also, IÂ’d like to just say that I may not be updating as often for a short period of time. IÂ’m working on a cabaret act that IÂ’m presenting in my home town at the end of October, and I must complete my narrative by the end of August! So, IÂ’m afraid that the show is taking priority right now.

However, I do have lots of ideas for this story, and will probably continue to write for it intermittently, so donÂ’t despair! Just please keep reading and reviewing. I really enjoy reading all your reviews! Thanks for reading, and I promise it wonÂ’t be too long until the next update!