Author's Note: Okay, so there is a blatant flashback scene here. I don't normally do these because they can be cheesy, but when I finally figured out what happened to Spike, I knew I had to show it somehow. So, there are some answers in this part, but there are also more questions. Willow and Kennedy didn't seem to make it into this part. It has already stretched on for twelve pages so I figured I had to end it where I did. So more of them next time. I hope you enjoy; please read and feed. I'd love to know what you think of it so far. I also want to give a shout out to those of you who've been contacting me regularly about this story in order to praise, pester, and encourage more out of me. You know who you are.
Faith stared across the dingy table at the blond man devouring a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage. When she'd offered to pay for his breakfast, Spike had suddenly regained an appetite. They'd moved from the counter to a booth in the corner, so he wouldn't have his back to the room. Some habits died hard. Following him to the table, she'd taken a good look at him. From his ragged clothing, Faith guessed he didn't have a dime in his tattered pockets.
The former vampire looked so different to her now that she wondered how she could have missed the change when she first saw him. Though he was still pale, that was obviously due to his nocturnal habits. A quick tan would clear that right up. The faint stale scent of death that enveloped the undead had vanished, replaced with an aroma that was very familiar to Faith—that of sweat and unwashed flesh. Spike had become human, and he looked like a bum.
"How did this happen?" Faith asked. "B. wasn't real clear on the details, but the one thing she did say is that you were in the Hellmouth when it collapsed."
Swallowing a bite of toast, Spike shook his tousled head and shrugged. "It's the damnedest thing," he said. "I died. I remember it. Then, I woke up. And I was like this. It was quite an adjustment, let me tell you."
Faith frowned. He pretended to be fuzzy about the details, but she had a feeling there was a lot he was leaving out. "And how the hell did you end up here?"
"I'm heading toward Ohio," he said casually. "Heard there were some interesting people out there."
"And that's it?" Faith questioned. "You have this new life and you're just going to go back to what you were doing before?"
Spike stared at her in confusion. "What else should I do?" he asked. "I'm not familiar with this human lifestyle, let alone the American dream. This country was less than a century old when I was born, you might recall."
"I was never one for history," Faith muttered.
"What did you do for those three years in a cell?" he wondered.
Faith snorted. "Watched the Weather Channel and reality programming. Ask me anything about El Nino."
Spike pointed at her with his fork. "Who won Survivor: Africa?" he asked.
Smiling, Faith shook her head. "After Richard Hatch, it was all a blur."
"I'm glad my tax dollars are being well spent," he mocked, making her laugh.
"You don't remember what it's like being human anymore," she mused. "So you pretty much have to learn everything all over again."
"I still remember some things," Spike told her, a gleam in his blue eyes. "Tie my shoes, comb my hair. I could spin you a bit if you fancy."
"Oh, so tempting in your unwashed state," Faith teased. She sobered then as she considered something. "Why didn't you go after her? The biggest thing between you two is gone now."
"First off, the biggest thing between us is definitely still in working order," he announced with a leer.
He was quiet a moment after that. Glancing out the window, he watched a couple stroll by on their way home after a night of carousing. At first sight they appeared rather romantic walking arm in arm. But it soon became apparent that the two of them were so wasted they were forced to lean on each other for fear of toppling over. Faith wondered if they'd even end up in their own bed at the end of the night. Some vampires had a thing for feeding off drunken humans—they got all the buzz but none of the hangover, apparently.
"I started to," Spike admitted quietly.
When he met her gaze, she was struck by the emotion she saw in his eyes. He'd had a soul the last time she spoke with him, but now he was definitely human. There was just something there when she looked at him…something that had been absent was when he was a vampire. They lost more than their souls, she thought. Vampires lost some bit of vitality that could never be regained, no matter how much living blood they sucked.
"I heard the rumors that she'd gone back to L.A. Not to him, though. To her father. She took the little one with her. Monsters talk," he said when Faith looked at him doubtfully. "Even to a former vampire. Or, to a bloke they still think is a vampire, anyway. Monsters can be bloody stupid."
"No argument there," Faith murmured. "So you went to L.A…?" she prompted.
Spike shook his head. "Didn't make it," he said. "I got halfway there and I had to turn back. It's a lost cause, girl. When I was standing there, feeling the light going straight through me for the first time in over a century, I had an epiphany. That's when you realize something—"
"I know what an epiphany is," Faith interrupted. "Hello, prison? It has the most religious population this side of the Hellmouth."
"Oh yeah, all that born again Christian tripe," Spike nodded. "God will forgive you for carving up your sweetie, as long as you accept Him in your heart."
"They were more into Jesus than the big guy himself, but yeah, that's about the size of it," Faith agreed. "So you had this big, life-altering realization? What did you figure out?"
"I was burned through from the inside," Spike said. "My body blew away on the wind and I felt it go. Not many people can remember their own death. She stood there with me a bit, but when she walked away, it was so clear to me. She won't ever have me. I can walk on bloody water and it wouldn't turn her head. Not in that way. I know it's time for me to accept that fact and move on."
"And by moving on you're going to what?" Faith asked. "Fight the big bad with the Scoobies? That's not moving on, Spike—that's just settling. You know she'll show up eventually. If you're there in all your human glory, maybe she will turn her head. That's what you're thinking in that beady little mind of yours, right?"
Scowling, Spike clenched his hand. "No," he said through gritted teeth. "What would you have me do? Get a job? Serve fat socialites their sodding café lattes at bleeding Starbucks?"
He was shouting by the time he finished, and for emphasis he swept his hand across the table, tossing his plate and silverware onto the floor. Food spattered in all directions, while shards of stoneware skittered across the linoleum. Faith was on her feet in an instant. She wasn't frightened by the outburst, but she was prepared for any eventuality that might spring from his tantrum.
Staring at him solemnly, she commented, "Still need to work on that rage, Spike. Unfortunately with testosterone poisoning, becoming human isn't a cure for that particular problem. Hope you enjoyed your breakfast."
She didn't even glance toward the waitress as she left, slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder as she swung through the front door. Faith shook her head angrily as she stalked away from the diner. Sure, she was known for some prima donna activities in her time, but she really didn't have the time to humor a former vampire who was still pining after the pretty Slayer who always managed to outshine them all.
Faith was halfway down the block when she heard him calling her name. With a weary sigh, she pressed forward. He was human, he wouldn't be able to keep up with her.
"Would you slow down?" he cried, even closer.
Surprised, Faith turned to face him. He was right behind her, out of breath as he caught up. "How the hell did you move that fast?" she wondered.
"I was always spry," he explained, panting. "Though I could really do without the heart palpitations."
Faith frowned. "Palpitations?" she asked. Reaching forward, she pressed her hand against his chest. Through the thin t-shirt he wore, she felt his heart thudding frantically within his ribcage. "It doesn't feel irregular to me."
Spike gasped for air. "Everything speeds up so damned quickly," he said. "Breathing faster, heart pounding, stomach gurgling—my body used to be still, and now I'm always in flux."
Faith laughed. "You really don't remember being human," she responded. "Just give it some time. You might want to lay off the smokes."
"You're running from something," he said.
Frowning, she retorted, "You were there for this, remember? Big bust out, Faith on the lam. Murderers don't get time off for averted apocalypses."
"No," Spike said. "You could have stayed with the others, laid low under their care. You're not just running from the fuzz. You think you're tainting them somehow; a bad girl perverting the good guys with her presence."
"What the hell do you know about it, anyway?" Faith demanded.
"We're a lot alike, you and I," Spike murmured, leaning closer. "Pasts are a bit of darkness we don't want to revisit, but the future…the future isn't quite so rosy, either."
"So what, you think we're just going to hang now?" Faith retorted. "We're going to be best buds?"
Spike shook his head. "Not friends," he argued. "Not just yet. But we aren't quite enemies, either."
"You just don't have any money," Faith guessed. "And you suck as a thief now that you're human."
"Well, there is that," Spike admitted.
Faith sighed. "The minute I'm bored, you get the boot," she warned him. "Just stay out of my way. I'm not going to stop you if you decide to follow me a bit. For a few towns, anyway."
"For a few towns," Spike echoed.
When she turned to continue on her way down the sidewalk, he fell into step behind her. Spike was smart enough not to try and walk beside her. He did a good job of keeping up. Although this time, she made sure to maintain a normal speed. For some reason, she wasn't so keen on leaving him in her dust anymore.
The motel room cost twenty-nine dollars a night, and check-in wasn't until noon. They'd be moving on just after nightfall, which gave them just over six hours to get some rest. While Faith easily hopped straight into one of the two beds and fell asleep, Spike had a difficult time of it. He shifted restlessly beneath the coverlet, never quite drifting off completely. Whenever he closed his eyes bright visions of stone and water flashed through his mind and he was instantly awakened.
He finally rose from the bed and wandered into the bathroom. The narrow room was still steamy from their showers, and he swiped his hand across the mirror to clear it. Spike supposed it was the height of vanity to be so enamored of one's own reflection, but his had just reappeared after a century. It was difficult tearing his eyes away from the slender blond figure staring back at him.
"Devilishly handsome, as always," he muttered, then laughed. Out in the room, Faith muttered in her sleep and twisted the blankets around her legs as she flailed her limbs restlessly.
Stepping out of the bathroom, Spike watched as she continued to wriggle in the large bed. She was having a nightmare, he realized. He considered waking her, but wasn't quite sure how she would react to that. In the end, he decided to leave her be. Spike crossed the room to sit at the table beneath the wide window. From the chair in the corner, he could just barely see through the closed vertical blinds. The sun shone brightly outside.
They were in the midst of Indian Summer according to the chap on the news. Faith hadn't been exaggerating about the Weather Channel—it was the first thing she flipped on when they first settled in the room. Further East the jet stream had dipped low across the Midwest, plunging the area into a cold spell. But for those in southern Utah, the temperatures swung dangerously high. Spike was grateful this dump had air conditioning. Now that was something he'd never had the fortune to experience as a human the first time around.
Faith moaned in her sleep, making him glance over in her direction once more. She didn't do anything halfway, he realized. Even in sleep, she was fighting. It was worrisome, actually. He was supposed to be helping her, but he couldn't begin to figure out how he was to do that.
Spike frowned. She knew he hadn't told her the whole truth about why he was here. For now, he'd avoided the topic, but at some point Faith would ask again, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep the silence. But to do this right, Spike had to hold his tongue.
There was a reason he hadn't been able to sleep since his return. Closing his eyes seemed to take him back to the pain he'd felt in the Hellmouth. And then invariably, he would see the women again, and hear their grating voices. He wondered if they aimed to haunt his dreams until the task was finished. If so, giving up didn't sound like such a terrible option anymore. He thought again about his death, and what had immediately followed.
The light burned with a fury that eclipsed his own--the vampire's blood-thirst had consumed his very being in a ceaseless ache that could never be completely fulfilled. He felt the flare begin to overtake him. Thankfully he was alone at last, and Buffy would not see him leaving this world. The pain was strangely cold. It numbed his middle and arched slowly outward to engulf his limbs. Spike smiled and waited for death to finally take him.
Darkness swept the pain away at last; sweet oblivion replacing all sensation, all unrealized longing. But no—his thoughts remained. Spike felt the solidity of earth beneath him and opened his eyes in confusion.
He lay in a bed of flowers, surrounded by the cloying scent of lilies. Spike gagged at the smell and jumped to his feet. Gazing around himself, he saw that he was in a courtyard of some sort, with carefully tended gardens encircling a central cluster of stone columns. Covered with the heavy growth of ivy, the stone pillars blocked his view of what lay inside. But the gurgling of water told him there was more to be seen.
Walking forward, Spike moved toward the pillars. As he stepped onto the stone pathway running between the flowerbeds, he realized his boots had disappeared. "Bloody hell," he whispered, staring down at his bare feet.
His voice echoed sharply, reverberating through the gardens, and he realized he wasn't outside after all. Staring up, he saw overcast skies with low clouds lazily drifting past. It was an illusion.
Frowning, Spike muttered, "If this is Heaven, I want a refund."
As the comment returned to his ears, bouncing off the stone pillars ahead, another voice quickly followed. "Vampire…"
Feeling a strange chill at the sound of that voice, Spike was nonetheless propelled forward to investigate its source. He approached the pillars, ducking as he passed through the choking growth of ivy. Inside the enclosure lay a marble fountain. The spray of water caught rays of light streaming down from above and reflected them in a prismatic display of color. So dazzled by the sight, Spike almost didn't notice the women sitting on the other side.
There were two of them—one blonde of fair skin and delicate countenance, dressed in flowing robes the color of blood, and the second a brunette with the dark and hearty features of middle Europe or Moorish Spain, her white robes a startling contrast to her dusky skin. Spike grinned at the sight of them. That old ache rose sharply within him, and he nearly shifted into his vampiric form when the sudden lust unfurled in his belly.
"Vampire," the blonde woman said again. "You would bite us before knowing what we are?"
The women, sitting back to back on the edge of the fountain, leaned forward simultaneously to peer across the water at him. As they moved, Spike spotted a strange light reflecting in their eyes. For an instant, they appeared old and withered, ancient beyond reckoning. A moment later their age and power rolled over him like the musky scent of blood laced with fear.
Spike took a step back, uncertain. "What are you?" he asked. "Not angels."
The brunette pointed at his chest. "We represent the Ones who created that."
With her movement, the amulet around his neck suddenly rose away from his body. He'd hardly noticed it was still there. Spike watched in amazement as the trinket floated over the water to settle in the brunette's outstretched hand.
"And who are they?" Spike wondered, cocking his head. "Will they be dropping in as well?"
The women glanced at one another in amusement. "The Powers do not speak to lesser beings," the blonde said. "We are to serve as their voice today."
"I'm dead," Spike realized. He'd known it before that moment, of course, but the gravity of it finally hit him.
Nodding, the women rose from their perch to separate briefly as they circled the fountain, the blonde moving left while the brunette took the right. When they stood together before him a minute later, Spike moved back another step. This seemed to be immensely humorous to them, for they shared another grin.
"You sacrificed your life and newly found soul in order to protect those around you," the blonde said. "That is a tremendously selfless action."
"But is it enough?" the brunette asked him.
"Enough for what?" Spike asked suspiciously.
"Enough to erase what you have done as a vampire," she replied. "Would you be comfortable facing your judgment at this time—to resign yourself to whatever decision is made concerning your place in the world after?"
"What's this?" Spike growled. "What are you going on about?"
"How would you like the opportunity to start again?" the blonde questioned. "To clean the slate, so to speak, before you are to face the cosmos?"
"You would send me back," he stated. When they nodded, he asked, "What's the catch?"
The women laughed. On the surface, the mirth was as light and pure as the gurgling water behind them. But Spike could hear the grating tones underneath…the power that sprung out of eternity. They may have appeared to be normal women, but Spike sensed that there wasn't a lick of humanity to be found within them. His skin crawled at the sound.
"You cannot accept the reward without merit," the blonde nodded. "There is but one task for you to perform upon your return to Earth."
"A girl," the brunette continued just as her companion finished. "With the power of demons but the beating heart of humanity."
"Buffy," Spike whispered. He frowned when they instantly shook their heads.
"No," they said simultaneously.
"She has fulfilled her obligation to the Powers…" the blonde started.
"…and may leave this mortal coil at any time."
"She has already been judged," the blonde explained. "We have no further interest in her. But there is another…one with darkness in her soul. She existed before the others, before the rule allowed for many where once there was but one."
"You're talking about Faith," Spike said.
They nodded again. Spike was getting irritated by the cryptic messages, and their conjoined movements didn't help matters.
"She has a task ahead of her," the brunette said. "One of great importance."
"But she is blinded by her own passions. She may not recognize the opportunity when it presents itself," the blonde continued. "She will need someone to watch, to show her the path when it appears. It is but a simple task for one who has accomplished so much already."
Spike nodded. "What is her task?" he asked.
The blonde smiled wanly. "The Wheel has not yet turned that far," she said. "We cannot give you that information. Nor can you tell Faith how you were able to return to Earth."
"I can't tell her why I'm there," Spike said. "And I won't know what she's supposed to do. Are you trying to make her fail?"
"If Faith is told what she must do, then the action itself loses all meaning," the blonde said. "She has not fulfilled her duty as a protector. She must complete the task before she is judged. But she must do so on her own, with only your eyes to assist her."
"I do this, and I pass on to the next world as clean as a newborn?" Spike asked.
"Perhaps," the blonde said cryptically. When Spike began to sputter angrily in response, she turned toward the fountain. "Drink this," she said, leaning toward the water. A silver cup had appeared in her hand. Filling it with water, she faced him again and offered him the drink.
"What is it?" Spike asked suspiciously.
"It is your reward," the brunette told him. "You must do this to live again."
Gritting his teeth, Spike finally accepted the cup. The metal was cold to the touch. Raising it to his lips, he realized the women were watching him with great anticipation. He shook his head in exasperation. Probably got a little boring up here all alone, he figured. Spike tipped the glass slightly in an impromptu toast, then threw his head back and drank its contents. It had been some time since he'd drank water, but it didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary.
He lowered the cup to his side as he waited several moments to see what would happen. Spike met the women's gazes and asked, "That was my reward? I don't feel any—"
Spike lurched forward when he felt something spasm deep within him. A sudden pressure built in his chest, as if a heavy weight had settled over him. The cup dropped to the stone floor with a metallic clatter and rolled away toward the pillars. The world seemed to tip dangerously to one side, and Spike found himself on his the ground without knowing how he'd fallen. Dark specks danced at the corners of his vision.
"…must breathe…" a female voice pleaded with him.
Spike opened his mouth with a gasp, then felt a rush of air sweep inside of his body and fill his lungs. His breath expelled a moment later, and the ragged cycle began anew. The movement was sharp and painful, foreign to his dead body, but he was breathing for the first time in over a century.
Gulping mouthfuls of air as he panted, Spike pressed his face against the cool stone walkway. He saw the sandaled feet of the women towering over him, but didn't glance up to meet their worried gazes. He was too enthralled by the sensation of his own heart fluttering hurriedly in his chest. Spike pulled his hand against himself to delight in the steady thud vibrating through his sternum.
"I'm human," he gasped.
"Yes," one of the women responded from above.
Spike slowly pushed himself to his feet. Dazed, he stared around himself with new eyes. The first thing he noticed was how dull everything appeared. His vampiric senses were gone. A little disappointed by that, he turned to face the women once more.
"I'm going back to Earth as a human?" he asked.
The blonde nodded. "That is your reward," she explained. "But it is conditional. Until you have completed the task you have been given, your human life is not assured. But when Faith fulfills her duty, you will live out the years you would have had before you were turned into a vampire. It is based on these years that you will be judged. Your sins as a vampire will be cleansed."
"If I don't help Faith finish the job, then I go back to the way I was," Spike nodded. "I get it."
"Then begin," the brunette ordered him, sweeping her hand before his face.
With her movement, darkness engulfed his senses. Spike awakened some time later to feel a strange heat spreading across his back. Thinking he was back in the Hellmouth with the sun burning through his flesh, he jumped to attention. The light was just as bright as it had been that day, but as Spike stood blinking in the bright heat, he realized he wasn't burning after all.
He stood in a field, the midday sun glaring down at him. Spike shaded his eyes and was forced to squint. The light was too bright for his eyes to withstand. Tears spilled out onto his cheeks. His sight was far too vulnerable after existing in darkness for so long. Sullenly, Spike wiped a hand across his face. It figured he wouldn't be able to enjoy it, he thought bitterly.
It was then that he noticed the odd sensation of wind caressing his skin. Blearily glancing down at himself, he could just make out his naked body through the course of water leaking out of his eyes. Spike groaned.
"Bloody hell," he said again.
Spike was jolted out of his musings when Faith suddenly rolled over in her bed and stared at him. "Why aren't you asleep?" she asked, clearly irritated that he'd been sitting there watching her. "Your body needs it now. We have to travel hard tonight, and I'm not going to wait for you if you can't keep up."
Shaking his head, Spike said, "I've slept all I can."
Faith reached under her blanket and started squirming faintly. Spike watched the outline of her body undulate under the thin fabric, surprised to find himself mesmerized by the movement. She finally pulled a wad of green bills out from beneath the blanket and tossed them at him.
"Then buy us something to eat," she ordered. "You need some sun, anyway."
Throwing the blanket over her head, Faith settled deeper into the bed and went back to sleep. Snorting, Spike stared down at the money spread across the tabletop. He wondered where she'd gotten it, and if that would affect the task ahead of him. He had a feeling that keeping Faith on the straight and narrow was part of the deal. For some reason, the redemption of this little girl was very important to whoever it was running the show upstairs. He shrugged to himself. The women didn't say it would be easy.
"It never is," he sighed to himself.
"Spike," Faith shouted from within her burrow. "Get the hell out of here and let me sleep."
Xander glanced around furtively before closing the door to his room and locking himself inside. An opaque plastic bag crinkled in his hand. When it seemed he was alone, he relaxed his stance and walked toward his bed.
"What's in the bag?" a female voice asked, startling him.
Nearly tripping and falling across the bedspread, Xander managed to regain his balance in time to spot Anya sitting in the corner of the darkened room.
"Where did you go?" she demanded. "I lost you for a minute."
Easing his hand into the plastic bag, Xander grabbed the plush toy he'd purchased earlier while Andrew was busy wrestling a cartload of groceries through the narrow aisles of the store. Giles had taken so long to empty the van that Andrew had been forced to wait overnight to do his shopping. He was still so perturbed by this that he hadn't even noticed when he was left alone for a few minutes while Xander visited the small toy section of the store.
Xander swiftly yanked his prize out of the bag and waved it at Anya for an instant before tossing it at her. At the sight of floppy ears surging toward her, Anya screeched and jumped to her feet. She skittered away from the stuffed rabbit when it landed in the chair she'd just vacated. Xander stared in amazement as she whirled on him angrily.
"Why would you do that?" she demanded. "That's just so cruel."
Xander's breath caught in his throat. "That—your reaction…" he stuttered, trying desperately to form the words. "The First would know your behavior, but it wouldn't have had such an honest reaction…"
Anya scowled at him. "What are you babbling about?" she asked. Her features cleared as she realized what he was saying. "You thought I was the First. That's why you've been ignoring me the past two weeks?" she raged. "What a relief it is to find out that you know me so well," Anya finished sarcastically.
Xander dropped onto the bed, stunned. "What would you have thought?" he demanded, then shook his head. He was arguing with her as if nothing had happened. Leaning forward, he cradled his head in his hands.
Anya watched as his shoulders started trembling. Frowning, she asked, "Xander, are you crying?" When he didn't respond, she added, "Stop it. This is very uncomfortable. Xander, do you hear me?"
"I looked for you," he said, his voice muffled by his hands. "Andrew said—"
She sat next to him on the bed, but knew that he couldn't feel it. "I know," she responded.
Xander looked up at her, and she vainly tried to smile in encouragement. "Why are you still here?" he asked tearfully. His breath hitched as he whispered, "Did I do something…unfinished business…?"
Anya frowned and shook her head. "It has nothing to do with you," she said. "I—there's a brightness when you go, just like they always say. But I couldn't…I couldn't go."
"Why not?" Xander asked. He realized with a jolt that he could see the dim outline of the door through her body. "What made you stay?"
Sighing, Anya stood and started pacing. "I killed people, Xander," she announced. "I spent one thousand years devising new ways to torture and maim the male sex. What would happen to me over there? I'm afraid to find out what's on the other side."
Xander frowned. "So you're just going to stay here? Forever?"
Anya shrugged. "It's not that bad. Now that you can finally see me, it's a lot less lonely. But I really miss…" She reached out with her hand, as if trying to touch him. "Being incorporeal is less fun than you would think."
"I always wanted the power of invisibility," Xander said.
Rolling her eyes, Anya muttered, "I know, I know. You would hide in women's showers and saunas. You realize there is no group sex going on in those places, right?"
Xander shook his head. "Hey, don't ruin the fantasy—" he stopped abruptly and frowned at her.
"Oh," Anya murmured. "You aren't going to start crying again, are you?"
"Just give me time to get used to this," he told her. "I'd just started to accept the fact that you were gone…"
"I know," Anya replied. "We watch the living, you know. There isn't much else to do. I don't understand why you can finally see me after all this time, but…Xander, look at me."
When he glanced up at her, she shook her head. "No, close your left eye and look at me."
He did as she asked, then jumped slightly when she vanished. "Anya?" he cried, rising to his feet and opening both eyes again. She reappeared in an instant, standing just as she had been a moment before.
She smirked at him in satisfaction, nodding. "You can't see me with your own eye," she said.
"What are you talking about?" he asked irritably, then realized what she meant. He reached up with his left hand to touch his face. "Willow," he murmured hoarsely.
"Most people can't see through the veil," she explained. "They're either born with the ability to view the spirit realm, or they devote most of their lives in the attempt to achieve it. You did it in two months. The witch grew you a magic eye."
To be continued...