Disclaimer: I don't own them, would that I did. The characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, Greenwalt, Fox, etc. Just using them to tell my own little story.

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Part Nine: Mountains and Molehills

"I don't believe it. It can't be," Angel muttered. His sire shrugged in response.

"But it is," Darla declared matter-of-factly. Angel swallowed hard, staring at the cup in his hands. His mind screamed at him that Darla was not to be trusted, but his instincts insisted that what she had told him was the truth. This simple goblet was the key to his redemption.

"It's not possible," Angel insisted again stubbornly. Darla laughed in derision, gesturing at the room around them.

"But this is possible? But reliving a day is possible?” she added pointedly, enjoying his stunned expression. “Oh yes, I know all about that. If that's possible, why not a thousand days? Why not a thousand lifetimes?"

“How?”

“Like I understand those kinds of things! You know me better than that, dear boy. I only know that a vampire can use the cup to restore the lives he or she has taken. Only a vampire with a soul would even care...I think that thing was meant for you, Angel. Only for you.” Darla laughed bitterly. “And as usual, you’re going to throw it away for someone that was never meant to be yours. Go on, save your precious Slayer...just don’t make me watch.”

“You can’t understand,” Angel said brokenly. He gripped the Chalice tightly, hardly feeling the pain as it burned him. What was that mild discomfort compared to the pain of this?

“I don’t want to understand. But you’re stalling, Angel. You’ve got what you came for, right? And instead of leaving, you’re still here. So maybe you’re the one who doesn’t get it, huh?”

The two vampires locked eyes for a long moments. Darla’s venomous gaze was triumphant; Angel’s eyes promised murder and retaliation, but they were the empty promises of despair. Finally he turned to leave. Not since the moment he had given up his humanity for the second time had he felt so truly damned. The echo of Darla’s derisive laughter rang in his ears as he was again swallowed by the darkness. He knew that the blackness that surrounded him was nothing compared to the new shadows obscuring his soul. As he felt himself start to fall, his last thoughts were of the girl who had brought him here. Buffy, whose brightness burned into any darkness, even this utter gloom. He gripped the thoughts as tightly as he held the precious Chalice. Buffy, the light...

The light. Angel squinted and held his hands in front of his face, and the lantern was moved away from his face. He could make out Gus’ apologetic expression in the dim.

“A thousand apologies. I only wished to make certain you were resting comfortably, and perhaps attend to your burns?” The last was rendered as a question. and Angel raised his hands to his face, wincing. The marks made by the Chalice were still on them. He sat up hurriedly and began feeling around the bed frantically.

“Where is it? Where?” he gasped.

“Calm yourself, good knight. I have it right here,” Gus said soothingly, showing Angel the Chalice, not missing that despite the vampire’s obvious relief that it wasn‘t lost, he still flinched away from the sight of the goblet. “If it pleases you, I will put it with Sir Rupert’s prize to await your return.” Angel nodded quickly, then noticed the other beds were made.

“The others...”

“Await your arrival. I gather the decision was made to seek the Blade of Denis this day, and I suggested an earlier start. All the day’s preparations have already been made.” Angel nodded again.

“I should go,” Angel said, rising and turning thoughtfully to the white-haired man. “Gus...”

“Yes, Sir Angel? Or would you prefer Sir Liam? I have not been certain...”

“Angel is fine. Gus, what’s really going on here? You know, don’t you?” Angel pressed, and saw Gus’ eyes begin to dart away evasively.

“You know what is happening. You have braved the Field of Fire and The Wells of Sadness. Surely you are the bravest, most noble knights I have ever had the honor to serve. The bards will sing of your deeds for ages-”

“So you’re not going to tell me?” Angel cut him off with a wry smile.

“I have nothing I could tell you that would ease your journey or aid your quest, Sir Angel. You have my word on that,” Gus replied. Angel, reading the sincerity in his eyes, said no more and allowed the man to help him dress, shaking off his repeated offer to dress the burns. Leaving them as they were served as some kind of salve to his soul, a kind of weak penance. Gus seemed to understand, not pressing the matter further.

They walked together into the burgeoning dawn, Gus holding his lantern ahead of them to light their way, and met the others ready to mount. Spike turned the reins of Angel’s horse over to him without a word.

“So. Blade of Denis?” Angel said by way of greeting.

“Army of Black Gnomes,” Spike agreed, gleeful as a child on Christmas morning. He easily mounted his horse, looking down at them impatiently.

“Almost certain peril,” Giles added, giving Angel a long empathetic look. He knew that the shadows in the vampire’s eyes mirrored his own. Giles expected that Spike was not going to find the day’s activities as enjoyable as he seemed to believe. Xander looked between them and sighed.

“And happy fun time continues, I see. You know, when we get back home I’m never playing Dungeons and Dragons again. Not that I ever did,” he added hastily at their raised eyebrows. “Gee, would you look at the time? Let’s go, you know what they say about keeping gnomes waiting...”

“Please enlighten us, Harris. Most of us haven’t absorbed the nuggets of wisdom shared in video games,” Spike said drolly, easing his horse away. Giles and Angel shared a smile watching Xander glower at Spike’s back. The other three men mounted in silence and followed the vampire, who was already setting a brisk pace. The journey north began without incident, as they had come to expect, except that it was growing noticeably colder as they traveled. The vampires were relatively unaffected, but both Xander and Giles shivered when the wind blew particularly hard. Spike was still vocally expressing pleasure at the idea of going up against an army, but his companions could tell that he was nervous about what was to come. When they stopped to eat and water the horses, Giles approached him cautiously.

“Are you...all right?” Giles asked, fully expecting the glare he received in return.

“What are you on about now, Rupert? Of course, never better. Gonna get to kill something, makes me feel all warm and gooshy inside,” Spike answered, his tone belligerent but not quite convincing. Giles gave him a small smile.

“Well, yes, warmth and, er, gooshiness...aside, it is natural to feel a bit...” Giles trailed off as Spike turned on him menacingly. The vampire winced as the chip gave him a small jolt of warning.

“What? You think I’m nervous? Afraid? I’m some sort of coward, is that it? Spike’s got a chip in his head and now he’s all weak and woolly like a bleedin sheep?” Spike growled. Giles regarded him calmly.

“I doubt neither your courage nor your intelligence, Spike,” the Watcher replied, making Spike blink in surprise. “Only a fool would proceed to a peril marked specifically for him without some feelings of trepidation.”

“He means if you’re scared, you’re smart,” Xander offered helpfully, as he and Angel joined them.

“I know what he means, you soddin brat. Like he said, I’ve got intelligence. But I’m not scared of gnomes, even if they’re a bloody army of them. S’long as they can die like anything else.”

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“I’m scared of gnomes,” Dawn offered in a small voice. She and Tara were now watching the pool as Anya was asleep in a nearby chair. Willow approached them, stifling a small yawn.

“How’s it going?” she asked, trying to sound casual. Tara smiled, knowing better. Her lover was itching to be back in the driver‘s seat.

“Everything’s fine. Did you have a nice nap, honey?”

“It was great. Slept like a...well, babies don’t sleep through the night, I always hated that expression, though they do take naps, like...oh! I slept like a cat! I had a catnap!”

“You sound rested,” Dawn giggled, giving the witch a quick one-armed hug. “They’re going up against some kind of army of gnomes soon. They seem to think Spike’s the one in the most danger. You ready to take over the scrying?”

“Yes!” Willow said enthusiastically, then added lamely, “Cause, Tara could use the rest, and I’m all rested, rested witch here...”

“It’s okay, honey. You want it, you got it,” Tara assured her, then frowned. “It’s just...”

“Just what?” Dawn asked.

“Well, the spell Anya did is supposed to end in about another hour. The power transfers back automatically.”

“Well, we just take it off of automatic and put it on manual. What’s the problem?” Willow said breezily.

“I’m just not sure how we do that,” Tara admitted. “I’m not really familiar with the spell Anya knew...”

“So, we just wake her up,” Dawn offered. Willow looked over at her and shook her head regretfully.

“No, look at her. She’s exhausted, and she’s so worried about Xander...we should let her sleep. I can wait,” she added reluctantly. She sagged a bit, and Dawn looked at her sympathetically.

“Anya got donuts before she went to sleep...do you want one?” the younger girl offered, earning a small but genuine smile from her friend.

“Thanks, Dawnie. Maybe later,” she said. Dawn grabbed the witch’s arm enthusiastically. “Wait! I know! The book! She got the spell out of this book.” Dawn reached for a large, ancient tome that Anya had left sitting next to the scrying bowl. She lifted it with a crow of triumph that turned to a shriek of dismay as it slipped from her fingers and fell towards the bowl. Desperately she grabbed at it.

“Dawn! No!” Willow cried out, reaching for the girl. She was seconds too late. Dawn’s hands landed on top of the wayward text in the enchanted water of the scrying pool. There was a tremendous flash of power, knocking both witches across the room. Dawn screamed. Anya awoke just in time to duck as the bowl went sailing over her head. She screamed and put her arms over her head as rumbling destruction went through the shop. It subsided after a few terrifying moments, leaving in its wake only the sound of fluttering paper as pages from destroyed books floated down from the ceiling. Anya looked around the shop, almost immediately spying Willow and Tara crumpled in a heap on the other side of the room. She ran to them with a soft cry, relieved to find them still breathing, but unconscious. She scanned the room for its other former occupant.

“Dawn? Dawnie? Can you hear me?” Anya called out. There was no response, and a search of the shop failed to turn up the Slayer’s missing sister. Anya returned to the witches, hugging herself in total horror.

“This is not good. This is not good at all.”

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“You know what I hate most about this place?” Xander said conversationally as they mounted their horses to continue. When none of the others answered, he pointed north. “The stuff that keeps appearing out of nowhere.”

“A mountain,” Angel said.

“A mountain that wasn’t there when we left this morning. A mountain that wasn’t there when we stopped a while ago. But a mountain that’s not more than ten miles from us now...and you want to bet where the Army Gnomes live?” Xander said.

“Shall we have to climb it?” Giles asked absently, looking up at the imposing summit.

“Think we’ll find out when we get there,” Spike responded as he spurred his horse forward. The others followed, Xander still muttering about how much he hated this sudden-mountain-appearing place.

“Maybe they live under the mountain...or inside it,” Giles continued faintly, his gaze still wandering to the top of the mountain as they slowly moved closer. Spike glared at him momentarily, then went back to scanning the now rocky terrain. Light flurries of snow were starting to fall, the wind whirling the flakes around them.

“Or maybe they just go to the mountain to work in the mines, and go home every day to be waited on by Snow Bloody White! Who the hell cares? We don’t have to find out anything about these bloody things except the best way to kill them so we can be on our bloody way and I can get my bloody sword!”

“That was a whole lot of bloodies there, oh Not Afraid Man,” Xander observed wryly. Spike’s retort was silenced by Angel’s sudden wave.

“I saw something,” he said quietly, unsheathing his sword. The others quickly followed suit, their horses snorting nervously.

“Where?” Spike asked in an intense but equally soft tone. Angel inclined his head toward the base of the mountain. A moment later they all saw it. A short figure moved out from behind a rock briefly, then disappeared again.

“Probably a warning sentry of some kind,” Angel observed.

“Think he’s warning them about us?” Xander drawled sarcastically. “Cause we’re being so stealthy, riding right up with our swords out and all...” A moment later they had their answer, as a sound not unlike a low tuba came to them, and the ground began to shake. A number of heads appeared a moment later from behind other large outcroppings of rocks, more than the men could count quickly, and after a moment bows appeared over the tops of the rocks, arrows at the ready.

“Guys,” Xander said nervously. “They don’t look happy to see us.” The rumbling had subsided, and all was quiet as they approached slowly, eventually coming to a complete stop about 100 yards away. From this angle they got a better look at the gnomes. The short figures were swathed completely in black clothing, what looked like armored shields obscuring their faces. It was impossible to tell what they actually looked like, though they all appeared to be diminutive in height. And well armed.

“Think if we just tell them we’re on a noble quest they’ll let us through?” Angel asked with a short laugh.

“No, I think they pretty much want to kill us,” Spike replied. “This is the point where we need a plan. Watcher, what’s the plan?”

“Me?” Giles asked in alarm. “What makes you think I have a plan?”

“Your job, isn’t it? Watch the Slayer, read the books, drink tea, be boring, make attack plans...isn’t that what you lot do?”

“That is not what-” Giles began haughtily, but Xander cut him off.

“Someone’s coming,” Xander said, and they all looked to see a small figure approaching. From the markings on his helmet, Giles surmised he might be a leader of some sort, a captain or perhaps a general. At his signal, they all put away their swords, albeit with some reluctance.

“Return the way you came, and no harm will come to ye,” the gnome intoned, his voice slightly muffled by his mask.

“Afraid we can’t do that, mate,” Spike said casually, in a deceptively friendly tone the others knew well. “On a quest, you see. You’re in our way.”

“None may pass through our mountain alive,” the gnome general replied, as Spike and the others swung off of their horses and walked up to him. Giles suddenly turned away, muttering something under his breath. Spike ignored him as he drew his sword, approaching the gnome with narrowed eyes.

“See, that’s not a problem for me. Not alive as it is,” he said, slipping into his vampire countenance. The gnome drew his sword and barked out an order, and the air was full of arrows heading towards the four knights. The horses reared as Angel and Xander both shouted warnings to Giles. Both released the reins automatically, allowing the beasts to run away. They held their shields up defensively as Spike moved in to engage the gnome in swordplay unmindful of the impending arrows. Giles still stood defenseless, muttering with his eyes closed. Much to the amazement of Angel, Xander and the gnomes, the arrows seemed to hit an invisible barrier and fall harmless at their feet. The two men immediately realized what had happened and grinned at Giles, who was smiling back at them.

“I like this side of you, Mr. Wizard,” Xander crowed as they saw Spike find an opening in his battle with the gnome. The blonde vampire moved in for the kill with a cry of triumph that turned almost immediately to a scream of pain. He fell to his knees, dropping his sword as the others ran to his aid, Angel blocking the gnome’s killing blow with his own sword and using his superior strength to propel the fight away from Spike. Vast numbers of gnomes were spilling out from behind rocks, rushing towards them with fierce battle cries. Giles and Xander hauled Spike to his feet.

“What happened?” Xander asked. The vampire shook his head.

“The chip...wouldn’t let me...I think these blokes are human!”

“They don’t seem human at all,” Giles replied, gathering himself for another spell.

“Well, the bloody chip thinks they are!” Spike yelled.

“That’s bad,” Xander observed unnecessarily as he saw Angel deliver a blow to the gnome he was fighting that caused the gnome to lose his sword and fall back towards his approaching brethren. Angel moved back towards his friends, eyeing the tide of gnomes that would be on them momentarily. Giles muttered a few more words, and then sighed.

“I’ve cast a spell that will shield us from them, but it’s only a temporary solution. We’ll need to get past them eventually.” The gnomes stopped as they felt the air crackle with magic, grumbling and muttering amongst themselves as they tentatively tested the barrier, which held, much to Giles’ relief. Then a sound pierced the air, echoing off the mountain and sending fear down the spines of all four men.

“Was that a woman screaming?” Angel asked. They all exchanged looks, turning back towards the mountain grimly.

“I know that scream. That was Dawn!” Spike cried.

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