Epilogue: Reunion

"The Alchemists have been knocked off the chessboard." 

The two men stood on the shores of the tranquil lake, beneath an overcast gray. The stillness of the forest was interrupted only by the low roar and accompanying black smoke from the volcano in the distance. The eruption, beyond the horizon of Crater Lake, cast the horizon in a red tinge, same as the bubbling spring from which Semyon Grigorivich dipped the Divine Chalice of Power.

The water within solidified into a crystalline, ruby red. The gaunt, tall sorcerer held it up to the figure in the black body suit and mask to observe. The red, hour-glass symbol imprinted across the length of the muscular man's spine underscored his name: Redback. Former spellbreaker, current assassin.

Grigorivich observed the eruption in the distance with a gleam in his eye, and a matching crooked grin. "The Chalice of Spirit rests in the sealed vault in the Agni Temple. Fate being what it is, the holy vaults therein have been watched over by Vahni's family since before the Mughal."

Redback turned his head, slightly. "Well, ain't that a fucking coincidence. You know this when you hired the c***?"

Grigorivich kept his secrets concealed behind a thin smile. "Do you know where the other two Chalices are yet?"

Redback grunted. He hated how bloody cold it was in this part of the US. "Guy I know on the black market traced one to Hong Kong. I'm working on that scene now. The other one..." He trailed off, laughing to himself. "'Straya. My intel says it's at the Museum of Enchanted Art in Sydney Harbour, where's it's been passed off as just another item in their collection. Under heaps of tight security, but shouldn't be a problem."

"I should think not," the tall man said. He traced a symbol in the air with his long fingers. A circle of violet energy appeared, hollow, and from the gap in reality, an object fell into the cruel magi's hands. It looked like a skull in profile, and was similarly detailed as such, but the yellow sheets beneath the covering betrayed it as a book.

Grigorivich handed it to him. "The Codex of R'Leah. Do what needs to be done."

Though sceptical, the dark spellbreaker took the cursed tome. "I take it you aren't entrusting this operation to Firebird anymore?"

Normally, Grigorivich would be annoyed by these questions. However, he knew Redback's ledger, soaked in blood and money. He could afford to indulge him in a few answers. "Redback, my gentleman killer, I am afraid you will find that loyalty is in short supply, these days."

Though he spoke brusquely, Redback was sharp. "Ragey can't be trusted, eh? Want me to...handle him?"

The dark magi was admittedly curious about the potential outcome of that fight. But it would be unwise and unnecessary. "No, not yet. He is still important. Til we acquire the final Chalice, anyway. Besides, much to my chagrin, the brute makes me a fortune." Grigorivich nodded for them to walk down towards their boat by the shore, stepping over the cold body of the Klamath shaman who had fought them valiantly in defense of the sacred spring. "I will speak to the Tsar and try to get them under control. It used to be so easy, when their mind wasn't porridge."

"And what of The Jackal?"

"Ah, now that is an interesting case."

"Pit him against the Alchemists, did ya, you old dog?"

Grigorivich smirked, despite himself. "I do not think even I can control that man. He is...something different." 

He stopped. A cold wind cut through.

"Hmmm. An idea has occurred to me, Redback. I think, perhaps, I will kill two birds with one stone. But not until the last Chalice is in our possession."

"And what about the ones with those Aradia drongos?"

A valid point. "In time," Grigorivich said. "The false sense of security they are under...it will make our job easier. They've done the work for us."

In the distance, the volcano sent out a low, thunderous rumble across the crimson sky.

"The Obsidian Tablet."

Dr. Reyes threw down the photocopy onto Buck's desk.

Spike eyed the black and white printout of the ominous, dark slab. He looked at Buck, and his bright, serious eyes. His friend, manager, (and crush) nodded. "Yeah," Spike said. "That's the shit that turned El Amante into an asshole."

Tiago scratched his red beard, a contrast against his copper skin. He adjusted his dinosaur printed tie and placed another photocopy onto the desk.

A music score--the fact it was written in blood, concealed by the monochrome printing.

"The Waltz of the Mad."

Next, a booked bound in human flesh.

"The Bible of the Damned. Our favorite, psycho heel can tell you about that one." 

Spike looked up at the scientist and spellbreaker. "Iggy?"

Tiago snorted. "Be serious, my tasty, little chicken nugget. Deadboy." The tall, muscular researcher--and Aradia employee--showed Spike and Buck another print out.

Spike recognized it immediately. "Ugh. Slayer had that one." He bit his lip. He wasn't even sure that Welsh stud was even alive after Cian and him had no choice but to abandoned him in the Faewild. "What spooky shit does that one do?"

T. Rex was happy to oblige him an answer. "We recovered it in the abbey in Glastonbury. It's an excerpt of the Dee Cypher's. Do you know John Dee?"

Spike bit his lip and scratched his head. "Uh...I think he used to sell my looseys behind Schwarz Deli on Halsey and Bedford."

Buck sighed. "Court magi to Queen Elizabeth. Weird fuck. Said he could talk to angels. Unfortuantely, he wasn't just crazy, but he was good at magick too. Dual glyphs, yeah."

Dr. Reyes appraised the president of the GSA with clever, serpentine eyes. "Very good, young Buck. Dee was said to have written his cyphers in a trance, dictated to him by angels. We know he had the Spirit glyph--same as our big sumo friend--but the man was also a charlatan, so who is to say? We do know, however, that these transcriptions worked. The Cyphers allows passage into the Unseen realms. Faewild. Gehenna. The Veil of Tears. The Indigo. Anywhere mortal souls are meant not to tread. In this instance, Slayer St. John used it to access the Faewild. And, not to make anybody nervous here, caballeros, but the Dee Cyphers are probably the least dangerous tome in the Black Library collection."

Buck and Spike shot each other a look. This revelation was not helped by the vintage radio on the shelf blaring a news item about Russia having just crossed the Romanian border. Next to it, Zeus, the Tamberly family's cat, slept lazily, unaware of all the ills of the human world.

Buck straightened his back and folded his hands on the desk. In the late noon light, Spike thought he resembled his father more, with glasses. Buck had neglected his personal upkeep in exchange for managing the business, and so his hair was shaggier, below his ears, and the same texture as his dad's.

"Thank you, Dr. Reyes," Buck said, serious. "I assume Lily knows about all this?"

"Of course," Tiago said. He collected the photocopies and shuffled them back into his folder. "We know now from Mr. Netjee's intel that Jackal, Di Sangro, and Semyon Grigorivich were acting as a Gray Triad to the Tsar." He smiled, toothy and sharp. "Consider myself, Salim Netjeer, and Lily, your Golden Triad, then...my liege."

Buck snorted, but he nodded all the same. "Thanks, Big T, but my Dad's the king. I'm just the prince keeping the throne warm."

Spike blushed. I wish he'd warm my throne... 

"Well, if that's all..." Dr. Reyes, said, half-turned towards the door. He suddenly cleared his throat, his face tinging red. "Oh...and I was wondering if I might be booked for a show in the next month or so? THIS DINO DADDY NEEDS TO FEED!"

Spike flinched, but Buck laughed, amused. "Of course, big guy! With the World Championships as they are, we could put you on a local show. I mean, not saying you're local level, but--"

"LOCAL SCHMOCAL--T. REX JUST LOVES SPELLBREAKING!" The dual-persona'd magi said, punching his fist in the air. He cleared his throat, resuming his more temperate demeanor. "Your generosity is seriously appreciated." With that, Dr. Reyes left Buck and Spike alone.

Spike let out a sigh of relief. "Phew. I thought he was gonna try to eat me again, and NOT in the fun way."

Suddenly, Buck shot out of his desk and pulled Spike into a--surprisingly--tight embrace. "OKAY NOW THAT HE'S GONE..."

Spike gulped. "Buck! When did you get so beefy!? That bearhug was strong!" Compared to Spike's iron frame, it really wasn't, but for a non-glyph user, he was still impressed.

Buck let him down. "What I was going to tell you before Reyes showed up. Spike! I just booked the rest of the championships! I mean, I had some help from V, but--"

Spike beamed. "What! Really!? I mean, don't sell yourself short, Buck! We should celebrate. I can get us a bottle or somethin'"

Normally cool and composed, Buck--for reason or another--demured. "Spike. I...don't know what to say."

Shit, all I gotta' do is buy a guy a drink around here? But that was old habits Spike. The days of the playboy sailor belonged in the past. What did Victor say about wooin' guys? Oh yeah. Find something authentic about them and tell them. Wow, why haven't I tried that before?

So, Spike did his best. "Hey, I wouldn't be able to figure out my own schedule or get to where I'm going without you. You're kinda like my guardian angel."

"More of a demon." Buck smirked at him.

"A handsome demon." Spike met his eyes, and, suddenly shy, looked away. Why does he always make me feel so...goose-bumpy? "So I've been thinkin' a lot about how I've changed in over a year, y'know..."

"Oh?"

"I used to think I was useless and dumb and bad at shit. But considering what we've gone through, with the Chalices and stuff--"

"That you've majorly helped out in getting almost all of them?" Buck laughed, in his awkwardly high-pitched way, causing Zeus to wake up and glare at him. "You wanted to be a hero, Spike. Like my dad. But my dad? He's no hero." 

The shadows played across the light coming through the window. Buck took a deep breath. "But I think you are."

In that moment, Spike felt older. Or, rather, his head was less clouded. "Buck..." He smiled. "Well, I was gonna say...I may not be the most observant, usually, but I've been better, and I've noticed that of all the guys who hangs out around your office....I think I'm the one who's here the most."

"I think that may be true," Buck said. He leaned in and met Spike's eyes. "What...are you really trying to say?"

Wow, his face is...close to mine. Spike swallowed. "I...am not sure." But I know for a fact that this would be a really shitty and kinda corny time for us to be suddenly and inconveniently interrupted--

RIIING

Buck snapped out of his romantic haze. "Shit," he said, straightening his collar. "My 10 o'clock. You gotta' go."

Spike sighed. "Who..."

"Come on in," Buck said, in his 'business' voice. He looked at Spike again and mouthed, "Go!"

Spike crossed his thick arms, annoyed. "I ain't goin' nowhere, buster!"

The door opened, releasing a waft of gentle perfumed.

"Hello, blondie," a familiar voice purred.

Spike narrowed his eyes. "Who..." He turned his head. "OH MY GODDESS?"

The dark haired woman removed her sunglasses and tossed back her expensive scarf. Varla Montez, glamorous as always, still dressed like she was walking Fifth Avenue and not the River Walk. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, handsome."

"WHAT!? VARLA!?" Spike stood and sputtered, even as Buck winced and slapped his hand against his forehead. "What are you doin' here?" He looked over at the little girl in overalls, bounding towards him. "And Laura?!"

"Spike!" Laura squeaked, jumping into his arms.

Even though Spike was easily the strongest man in that room, he always knew the perfect pressure for hugs. He held Laura close to him, like a memory, suddenly overwhelmed with the gentle sweetness of the past "Wow, kid, you got tall!"

The little girl immediately abandoned Spike like one of her toy doys (that she liked to mutilate) going for Buck instead. On the shelf, Zeus, eyes suddenly filled with interest, mewed and hopped off to greet the girl.

"Buck!" 

Spike had never seen Buck act so...gently before. "Hey, squirt," he said, ruffling her hair. "Spike is right. You did get taller. Must be drinking your milk or something."

Again, Laura immediately lost interested, zeroing in on the cat instead. Zeus came right up to her and rubbed himself against Laura's face, before rattling off a series of meows. "Zeus!" Laura listened intently. "Yeah? Really? Oh wow!"

Spike cocked his head to the side. Oh right, she has a Nature glyph. "What's he saying?"

Laura smiled. "He says you and Buck need to finally--"

"Honey!" Varla laughed, clamping her hand over her daughter's mouth. "Remember what I said about talking to animals in front of other people." Varla maneuvered her daughter behind her. "Buck, Spike can stay for a bit. I'm happy to fill him in, mostly because I hate that expression he gets when he's trying to think too hard."

In a few minutes, Buck had brought out the (good) brandy, some glasses, and a strawberry milk for Laura.

"The freshest milk in Texas," Buck said, handing it to her. She seemed content to play with Zeus. "Varla, as you were saying?"

The former showgirl leaned back in the leather chair.  "Well, where the heck to begin? So, I sold the fed back home and we're focusing on turning the gym into a spellbreaking training school instead. Better money and less stress." The dark haired woman nodded to her daughter. "More time to focus on this little gremlin here."

Buck tipped his glass to Spike, who--to his credit--appeared to be following along. "When I found out, I reached out to Varla to see if she wanted to co-chair the GSA."

Varla laughed. "Snatched me up is more like it. This one here has his Pa's business acumen, but without the annoying bits."

Buck nodded. "And now that we're expanding so quickly, Spike, I think dad and I could use the help."

"And a woman's touch," Varla winked. She lowered her glass, contemplatively. "Besides," she said, quietly, "You know about John Henry, don't you, Spike?"

"Yeah, he's gonna have a kid!" Spike smiled. "Oh, that means Sandra..."

Everyone in the room knew the Irons and their relationship. Sandra's pregnancy had only come to light as of recent.

"Neither of those two lovebirds were going to budge," Varla said. "I had a long talk with them. We want to pull John Henry back from the Chalice gigs. He'll keep providing intel, of course, but..." She threw back her glass, brushing back her hair. "Well, in my time, I've seen too many good men die. And once you become a parent, your world sort of changes..."

Buck and Spike stayed quiet, the sound of a cat purring in Laura's lap the only noise in the room.

Until...

"And when in blue blazes were you going to tell me about it?"

Buck flinched and looked up at the giant in the doorway. "Dad."

Varla froze. Spike saw a thousand emotions dance across her face (same as Colt's) before she put on a smug expression and stood up, folding her arms across her (ample) chest. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Colt, his hair pulled back in a ponytail, gave the whole of the room a withering stare. He fixed kindness onto his face and address his former lover. "Varla," he said, with a respectful nod. He had far more warmth for Laura. "Little One!"

"Uncle Colt!" Laura said, happiest of all to see him. She ran into his arms at full force. Naturally, Colt caught and lifted her up.

Varla threw him a look. "...Uncle?"

Spike was sure he was the only one who caught the flash of fear in Colt's eyes, and the barely perciptible shake of his head. No.

"Hm." Varla looked down on her daughter, set onto the ground. "Hey, kiddo, why don't you run along and get ice cream with Gio? The adults need to talk." 

Laura rolled her eyes. "The adults always need to talk." Still, she obeyed, dashing out of the room.

Back rigid, and looking both annoyed and nervous at once, Colt gave Spike a firm stare. "That means you too, varmint."

"No," Buck said, curtly cutting him off. "Spike can stay."

Spike pressed himself into the chair. Oh, boy. Here we go... He felt the tension between Colt and Buck.

"This is a business and family matter, son."

Buck shrugged. "Spike's as much family as any of us."

The rolling thunder outside precipitated Colt's abrupt snap. "Ok, boy, you want to act cute in front of employees and business partners? Be my guest and make an ass out of yourself. Wouldn't be the first time I've hashed it out in mixed company."

Spike froze, overcome with fear. He had never heard Colt sound like this. Buck, however, remained impassive. So did Varla. There weren't many who could stand up to the cowboy king, and Spike suspected the only two people on Earth who could, were presently seated next to him in this office.

Colt's emotions turned from hot anger to colder disappointment. Outside, it began to rain. "You two never told me about a potential partnership." He sighed. "Not that I think it's a bad idea, necessarily, but..."

Instead of cooling down with his father, however, Buck took the opportunity to land a blow. Hell behavior, Spike thought. "Well, I was going to get around to it. But remember, I'm technically the president of the GSA right now. Which means I can make decisions without consulting you."

Spike bit his lip. Next to him, Varla did the same.

Shit.

Colt's mouth twitched. He smiled. Not a nice smile. Spike had seen Colt smile like that before landing a lariat on a mouthy menace some years back. "Interim president, son. Think you're forgetting something." He placed his hands on the desk and gave his boy a dark look. "I still rule the roost around here."

Buck didn't break his stare. He said nothing.

Goddess, this is like when Colt stared down Cyclops Jones in BreakBrawl 7, Spike thought, both terrified and excited. Only, between father and son.

Finally, an olive branch. Or twig, as it were. "You're doing fine enough, kiddo," Colt siad, "but then there's other stuff I take exception with..."

Buck raised an eyebrow. "Such as?" His voice was cold as ice. Unlike his dad, all thunder and lightning, Buck's wrath was a chill that froze you to the bone.

Colt stood back and shrugged. "Gee. I dunno. Mental health provider on site?"

"It's something Victor and I have been talking about awhile, dad. I crunched the numbers. We can afford a therepist."

"Son, back in my day, we kept that stuff between us and the Goddess. We don't need a shrink telling our boys and girls to talk about their feelings while finger-painting or whatever the hell. Need I remind you it's our job to beat this ever loving crap out of each other?"

"Dad, with all that's gone on this last year I think it's more than needed. Hell, most of us are damn near traumatized at this point! Half of us have anxiety issues, the other half, depression."

"Which one am I?" Spike interjected.

"Anxiety," Buck, Varla, and Colt said at the same time.

"Cool, got it."

Buck continued without missing a beat. "Also, don't get grouchy with me, dad. You said you would spend your birthday with me, for once. What happened to that?"

"I was busy." Colt said, rolling his eyes. "Fighting to earn us funding. Same old, as always! Dang it, kid, if you only knew the things I did to put food in your mouth, maybe you wouldn't be so difficult. So maybe take that into mind when you're paying for your head shrinkers or whatnot."

Finally, Varla sprung to action. "Colton, you're being cruel." She pursed her lips. "You're too damn nice to be this mean."

He shot her a look. "I'd say 'who gave you the damn right to turn up at my doorstep, take over my business, and tell me how to talk to my boy' but I already know who you are, Varla Montez. What happened to you never wanting to to see my face again? Huh?"

She laughed. "Hells bells, Colton. If you really think that, then you're a bigger idiot than I thought." She steeled herself. "No. You're no idiot. That's me being cruel. But I was hoping we could make something amazing here; honest!" She gestured toh Buck. "Your son, Buck, is following in his father's footsteps. All he wants to do is make you proud. Everyone can see it."

Without thinking, Spike spoke out. "I can. Colt, you know Buck is still training in wrestling while running the business, right?

Buck turned towards Spike, not exactly in a friendly way, but Colt got to him first. "That...true? Shit. When do you sleep, kid?"

"Hardly ever," Buck snorted. "So, yes, I kind of do know what sacrifices you made for me. I'm living it now." He sighed. "And...it makes me appreciate what you did a hell of a lot more. Even though I think you made me president just to get me out of the Firebird business, it's done me a lot of good. So..." He trailed off, his voice shaking.

Varla tagged in. "I don't believe in nepotism, Colt. You think I'd be putting money on this pony if I didn't think he was a damn good manager?"

"With you, I don't know what to think." Colt glared at the others in the room, as if he was standing on the other side of the ring in a royal rumble. "Fine. Y'all leave me no choice. I'm withdrawing from the championships. Buck, you're relieved of your duties. I take the reigns on this wagon now, boy."

Everyone in the room was quiet. Outside, thunder tumbled across the Texas sky.

"No, you don't."

Spike and Varla looked at Buck. He stood now, leaning over the desk. Zeus suddenly shot up onto the desk, in front of Colt, arching his back. He hissed.

Whether cat or boy's defiance, Colt took a noticeable step back. The anger in his voice remained. "What did you say?"

"You heard me, dad. You can force yourself back into the role, sure. But legally, you can't force me out. I've read that contract, back to front." He sneered. "You were never much good at writing or reading them, old man, So, I'm not surprised you failed to assess the clauses."

Outside, the thunder went from low rumble to a full on, concussive blast. Lightning split the sky.

"Boy..." Colt growled. "If you don't want a twister to come along and blow us all to high heaven, I suggest you change your tune..."

"That's what I mean, dad!" Buck yelled back, in time with Zeus' screeching snarl. "I'm not gonna sit here and be talked out of getting some mental support for the crew when every time you get cheesed off, we have to worry about you summoning the storm of the century! I've stood in your shadow long enough, old man. It's time I stepped out."

Spike hadn't seen Colt look like this before. That is, he had never seen him look so...hurt. His face fell.

Then, the thunder. "You rotten..."

Varla, her shadow quivering, held out a firm hand to both men. "Buck, enough. I can cool off his jets."

She was panicking too, Spike thought. He felt deeply uncomfortable now.

"I can handle my dad," Buck snapped at the woman. "I saw him and ma' fight plenty of times before they split up. This ain't nothin'"

She nodded to him, unfazed. "Be that as it may, right now I..." She sighed. "Look, why don't you and Spike join Gio and your sister while I work my magick."

Buck went to bark something back at her, but stopped short. "What?" He blinked. "I don't have a sister."

"He's an only child," Spike said, nervously, just to try to help things. "Er, right?"

Varla shook her head. "Of course, I..."

Then, Varla's shadow against the wall grew taller.

 Her eyes turned deep violet, aglow. "Colton," she said, icily, turning towards the tall man. "No. You...you never told him!?"

Colt's face drained of all color. Spike opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a loud, percussive rhythm on the rood. "What the hell is that?"

Varla, deeply unsettled, looked outside the window. Her eyes resumed their velvet lucidity. "Hail? Hot damn, I've never seen him do hail before." She laughed, nervously.

But the truth stuck fast to Buck's heart like a dagger. He fell back into his seat and looked at his father.

Colt did not return the challenge. Defeated, he stared at the ground. "I'm...a damn failure."

It hit Spike before Buck spoke it aloud, but it didn't change the mood in the room. Or end the hail. "You mean Laura is...my sister?" He looked to Varla.

The dark haired woman tilted her head away, sadly. "No, kid, your momma is your mom. But it's true. Laura is your half-sister."

"The Tamberly dynasty has two heirs," Colt mumbled to himself. He looked up at his son. "And at least my daughter has a damn glyph."

To Be Continued