Home is the Hunter

Note: This story is a sequel to "Home is Where the Heart Is" and begins the day after that story ends. Thanks to Liz Sharpe for the title.

"Our timing is way off today." Full Circle

Part I.

"Iolaus."

"Mmmph?"

"Look, I hate to wake you, but you have to get up."

"Mmmph."

Correctly interpreting that noise as a "no," Hercules persisted patiently, "I have to go into the village. Maug showed up and he's tearing the place apart."

"Mmmph mmmph." Iolaus rolled over in the warm nest of blankets and buried his head in the pillow.

"Yes, I'll tell him hello for you. But you have to be awake when I leave because Perseus will know who stole the shield by now. He'll be coming here to find Autolycus."

Iolaus managed to struggle a little closer to consciousness. He lifted his head just enough to say blearily, "Auto'll scream really loud when Perseus starts killing him so I'll have plenty of time to get out there."

"That's not what I'm worried about. Somebody needs to keep an eye on Jason in case Perseus shows up while I'm gone."

Iolaus moaned into the pillow, then managed to push himself up on his elbows. He squinted at the dim gray light leaking through the cracks in the shuttered window above the bed. "Why do you think Perseus is going to get here so early?"

"It's late afternoon." Hercules sounded smugly amused, as if he had been up bright and early while most of his friends had remained sprawled around the house in various states of incapacity. Which Iolaus knew he had. "I've got to go now. Are you really awake?"

"Yeah, yeah," Iolaus said. Hercules stayed long enough to watch Iolaus struggle out of the blankets, then left, grinning.

The room was still dark, the candles unlit and the fire on the hearth long gone out, and Iolaus had to fumble around on the floor looking for his clothes. He found his pants and vest, managed to pull them on, then located his boots by tripping over them.

Carrying the boots, he made it into the main room. Jason was sitting at the carved armchair near the round hearth, sharpening his sword. The former King of Corinth smiled with the cheerful condescension of someone else who had also gotten up early and was not handicapped by a pounding headache. "Get your beauty sleep?"

Iolaus grunted at him and dropped his boots. There was a water jug on the table and he poured a cup, drained it, poured another cup and sat down heavily on the bench near the table. The front door and the shutters were open, letting in gray daylight that was so dim a couple of the bowl-shaped oil lamps on the mantle had been lit. The cool air stirred the window coverings and carried the heavy green scent of wet earth and foliage and recent rain. For some reason the rain surprised Iolaus, though hecouldn't think why. Rain was never a surprise in the spring. Maybe he had been in Egypt too long.

The silence in the house told him no one else was awake yet. Iphicles had returned to Corinth last night and Iolaus knew Xena and Gabrielle and Joxer had meant to leave today. Considering the condition the three of them had been in by the time they had all returned from the village tavern last night, it wasn't going to be a very pleasant trip.

Iolaus took a deep breath and blinked, feeling his head clearing already. He eyed the sword Jason was sharpening so carefully. Its hilt was set with dull red rubies that King Aeson had brought back years ago from one of his wars against the barbarians. Despite the ornamentation, it was the sword Jason chose when he was deadly serious. "What are you planning to do with that?"

"Might go hunting later." Jason sighted down the long blade, looking for nicks and dents.

"Oh." Iolaus nodded, leaning back against the table and resting his elbows on it. Hunting. With a sword. After it rained all morning. "Better take a shield too, if the deer are going to be fighting back."

Jason just grinned and Iolaus grinned back, thinking Well, now I know why Herc was worried. He couldn't tell if Jason was really planning what it looked like he was planning or not. He might simply be whiling away the rainy day by sharpening his favorite sword, and since he had company he might have decided to supplement the larder by hunting, despite the fact that the weather was less than ideal for it. Or he could be planning to kill Perseus. Iolaus rubbed his face wearily. He could already tell this was going to be one of those days. If he was going to have to stop Jason in battle rage, he needed to be more awake. Right now all he felt competent to do was throw himself down and hope Jason tripped over him.

"Speaking of shields," Jason began thoughtfully, "where's the Shield of Invisibility?"

"The Shield?" Iolaus said vaguely, looking out the door and scratching the stubble on his chin. If he's going to kill Perseus, of course he'll want that. It's the bait. "Uh...." In fact, he couldn't remember where it was. Let's see. Xena had handed it to him and wandered back to the house after Gabrielle, who had been sick into the bushes next to the goatshed. Iolaus had had to drag Autolycus out of the woods after the King of Thieves had decided to sleep face down in the creek.... I couldn't have been carrying it then. Oh, great, I must have left the Shield in the woods. Worse, he wasn't sure where. Iolaus sighed to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He had to find it before some traveller did. He leaned down for his boots. "I think I'll go take a walk."

"Hmm?" Jason glanced up, brows lifted. "Don't you want to go hunting with me?"

"With what?" Iolaus said as he pulled his boots on. "I don't even have a sword to defend myself from the ferocious attack deer."

Jason's mouth quirked but there was a serious light in his eyes. "Sure you do." He set the sword aside and stood, going to one of the cabinets across the room. Iolaus trailed after him, puzzled. Jason opened the vine-carved door and the first thing Iolaus saw was his good hunting bow. Feeling like he had unexpectedly run into an old friend, he picked it up, the smooth wood familiar in his hand. It was still in good shape though the string had rotted. His sword was there too, standing against the side of the cabinet in its scabbard, and there were a couple of his old travel packs shoved into the back.

Jason leaned against the cabinet door and added casually, "Oh, and the forge is doing fine. I stopped by last month to pick up the rent from Darius and took a look around."

Iolaus set the bow down to pick up one of the packs. The blue and green blanket Alcmene had made for him was tucked into the top. He pulled it out and saw his battered water flask, a few fishing hooks, a spare knife, a couple of earrings he had gotten tired of, other odds and ends. He started to speak and found he had to swallow past the lump in his throat. He managed, "I'm just surprised...."

Jason sighed. "Iolaus, I haven't done anything about Alcmene's things yet and it's been a year."

Iolaus dropped the bag back into the cabinet. He frowned, trying to think of a way to ask what he needed to know. He said hesitantly, "People don't seem to remember. Even when we were in Corinth yesterday.... Nobody thought it was strange that I was...me." He looked up at Jason, his eyes intent.

"They don't remember, Iolaus. They don't remember Dahak. I'm not even sure I remember." Jason shook his head, frowning. "Parts of it are just a blur. I remember what happened afterward, but...." His expression turned grim. "I'm sure that's why Perseus' damn lies got spread so far. All most people around here know is that Hercules came back from Sumeria without you."

"Jason, we can take care of Perseus." Iolaus rubbed his forehead. And speaking of Perseus.... He needed to find that damn Shield. "I've got to go take care of something. I'll be back soon."

"All right."

Iolaus stood outside in front of the garden for a moment, taking a deep breath. Salmoneus' covered wagon was still parked between the house and the barn, near the outdoor bread oven. The tarps were drawn tightly over the openings and muffled snoring came from within. The forest on the surrounding hills was a deep green band, as thick as a fortress wall. In the farmyard vines climbed the porch and the barn and other outbuildings and the rain had beat down the yellow grass in the fallow fields. So many familiar smells. Damp earth, the pines, wet foliage. I'm home, he thought. It was...unreal.

Trying to shake off the lingering effects of his hangover, Iolaus stopped by the water trough to fill a bucket and dump it over his head. He ran both hands through his hair and shook himself vigorously, than started down the path under the dripping trees for the woods. Sidestepping a muddy puddle, he rolled his shoulder to ease an ache that wasn't there. The long-familiar gesture made him stop in his tracks; he remembered why waking up to rain had surprised him.

Ever since Demetrios' brother Maceus had broken his right arm and Hera's first Enforcer had broken it again when it was only half-healed, Iolaus had been able to predict rain with only slightly less accuracy than the rainbow goddess Iris. He should have woken this morning with a stiff shoulder and a pain in his wrist.

He worked the shoulder, frowning. It hadn't felt this good in years. On impulse he turned into the garden, brushing past the flowering bushes heavy with water droplets. He found Alcmene's grave, unchanged except that the mound was a little more weathered, showing the buds of the spring flowers planted in it. It was easier to look at now, not raw and bare like the grave he had dug for her when Callisto had gone back in time to prevent Hercules' birth. With a sigh he nudged a few stones, dislodged by the heavy rain, back into place. He stood there a moment, knowing he should say something but not sure what. For a lot of reasons he was glad she hadn't been here to see the past few months. Iolaus tried to clear his mind, to think of a message to send to Alcmene in the Underworld, but the words wouldn't come. He shook his head. Maybe later.

He wandered around a little more, finding the old grave where Iphicles' father Amphitryon lay, but there was nothing else here. Huh. Iolaus planted his hands on his hips, frowning, looking out over the fields. On a sudden alarming thought he went around the back, to the yard between the house and the vegetable garden, where they put all the bandits, mercenaries, Blood Eyes and assorted Hera-created monsters who attacked the farm. He breathed a sigh of relief to see the ground hadn't been disturbed, but then that didn't answer his question.

The sky threatened rain again and the air felt like a wet blanket, but he looked in the vegetable garden, around the cowpond, behind all the outbuildings front and back, under the treefort and the shade trees along the path where Alcmene had liked to picnic, then quartered the fields close to the farm. After that he tackled the woods, starting with the places they had played in as kids.

He found the Shield of Invisibility near a stand of tall pines, beside the creek where he had dropped it last night. The burnished metal was muddy, but it had been forged by Hephaestus and hadn't even noticed the damp. Lost in his own thoughts, scraping the mud off the burnished surface with his gauntlet, he barely glanced up when Autolycus came flying through the air and slammed into a nearby tree.

The King of Thieves slid to the ground in a shower of wet leaves, then staggered away from the tree. Still red-eyed and bleary from last night, he groaned, "Oh, my head."

"'Morning, Autolycus," Iolaus said absently.

"Don't 'morning' me," Autolycus growled, unsteadily tugging on his grappling hook. It came loose and fell in a tangle of rope. He collected it and straightened up, clutching his back. "Just whose bright idea was it to take off all my clothes and put them back on inside out, hey? That's what I want to know. It took me forever to find all my tools, my disguises were all out of order -- this dashing outfit isn't just for looks, you know! It's a very sophisticated..." he gestured helplessly, wavering back and forth, "...thing."

"It was Xena's idea," Iolaus said, still preoccupied. He spared Autolycus a glance. His normal fastidious appearance was certainly in disarray.

While Autolycus stumbled around coiling up his rope, still muttering to himself, Iolaus looked upslope toward the tree-covered hills. Not anywhere around the house or yard. Not any of the obvious spots in the woods. In Corinth somewhere? Or maybe at the old house, next to Ania and the boys? Oh, he didn't take it to Thebes and let my relatives bury me next to my father, did he? It would be just like his cousins there to pull something like that too, sanctimoniously nodding to each other about family pride the whole time. Erythia had given up fighting a long time ago and wouldn't have objected, and his stepfather Pandeon might not have realized it was an issue. He turned impulsively to Autolycus. "Auto, were you at my funeral?"

Autolycus stopped picking the hay off his disheveled green tunic and folded his arms, looking away. "I wasn't invited. And as one of your dearest friends, I'll have you know I'm a little hurt."

Iolaus rubbed his forehead, trying to quell the return of his headache. "In the first place, you are not one of my dearest friends, and in the second place, I wasn't the one who sent out the invitations." He looked up, frustrated. "But I did have a funeral, right? Something? A grave, a pyre, a ditch with some leaves? What did they do with my body?"

Autolycus stared at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "As opposed to the one I'm talking to now?"

"Yeah, this is--" Iolaus ran a distracted hand through his hair. It was no big deal in Egypt; every time they had gone anywhere, someone had come up to tell him about their ancestor or cousin or aunt who had come back from the dead for whatever reason. Being buried someplace while you were out walking around was nothing unusual either; some of their most important gods were like that. "It's a long story, but yes."

"Ah, all right." Autolycus shook it off, then applied himself to the problem, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. "Well, you've got a monument -- it must be there."

"Where?" Iolaus demanded.

"Why, it's right up there on the road. Hey!" he called as Iolaus strode off into the undergrowth. "While we're on the subject, there's been something I've been meaning to ask you--"

***

"Autolycus, you just thought you saw it," Iolaus said impatiently as they walked the muddy track that led along the first line of heavily forested hills and eventually to Corinth. "Look, I'll explain later." He couldn't make head or tail of the story the thief kept trying to tell him about seeing Hercules and Iolaus after Iolaus was dead. It must be that Dahak-inspired confusion Jason had spoken of. If Autolycus had seen Dahak itself he was just lucky Dahak hadn't seen him; Iolaus had tried to bury the knowledge of his friends and family deep enough that Dahak couldn't reach it, but he wasn't sure how well he had succeeded. In Nebula's case, he had failed completely. He shook that uncomfortable thought off. "Where is this thing anyway?" He was beginning to think Autolycus had hallucinated this marker he kept talking about too.

"Hold your ponies, Curly, it's right up here, see?" Autolycus said in annoyance, pointing ahead impatiently as they rounded the bend. "Every where I went I kept hearing these rumors, really wild stuff see, and that was why--"

Iolaus stopped listening, halting in his tracks as he saw the dark stone marker near the side of the road. The tree branches arched over it, heavy and still dripping with rain. After a moment, he started forward again.

Reaching it, he circled around to the front. His face was carved there, his name under it. The new spring grass was just starting to grow back over the ground around the base.

He stood there a time, the light mist of rain dripping from his hair. Autolycus shifted uncomfortably beside him, scratched his chin, folded his arms, and finally said, "So that must be it, hey?"

"Yeah. I guess I'm under there." Iolaus lifted his arm, absently using the Shield of Invisibility to scratch his head. He wasn't sure why he had wanted to see this now; it hadn't been much of a revelation and he wasn't sure what he had been expecting. Something a lot more modest, surely. Being honored by statues was one thing, but this looked like the kind of thing put up as part of a shrine. A stele for a cult figure, not a person. More disconcertingly, a wilted handful of flowers lay at the base. Now that he looked, he could see the remains of others, buried in the mud the rain had stirred up.

He hoped they were just funerary offerings, left by friends from the village or travellers who hoped his shade might give them some protection on the road. Not.... Not people who wanted to offer to Dahak.... He shuddered, his empty stomach trying to turn in disgust at the thought.

"Weird, huh," Autolycus commented soberly, dropping a sympathetic arm around Iolaus' shoulders.

"Yeah," Iolaus agreed, shrugging to dislodge the arm. He was suddenly very aware that what was left of the body he had been born in, lost his virginity in, died four times in was under this marker, degraded and mauled by Dahak.

Iolaus looked up abruptly, hearing footsteps on the road. He relaxed when he realized it was only one man, walking briskly on the muddy track. He started to step back, meaning to head down the hill through the trees and not treat some passer-by to the sight of him standing at his own grave. But as the figure came into view, he found himself rooted to the spot.

Beside him Autolycus swore softly in astonishment and Iolaus' eyes widened.

That's...me... Same height, same build, the face that he saw in every pool of water, every burnished shield. But not quite the same. This man's hair was short and neat, his skin pale, and he was dressed in brown pants, low boots and a maroon shirt. He had a pack and a cloak slung over one shoulder, no weapons and he wasn't wearing a warrior's braces.

And as if the situation needed to be any stranger, the guy wasn't reacting to his or Autolycus' presence at all. Iolaus looked up at the thief and was reassured by his expression of growing incredulity. At least if he was hallucinating, he wasn't alone.

The man stopped a bare ten paces away, gazing solemnly at the monument. All right, that's it, Iolaus thought in exasperation. As he planted his hands on his hips and drew breath to speak, the stranger's head jerked toward him. His blue eyes widened, he gasped, took a step back, and fell like an unstrung puppet.

"What in the name of--" Autolycus began.

"Damned if I know." Iolaus stared down at the unconscious figure sprawled in the dirt. He started to lean over him, cursing when the Shield banged into his knee. "Oh no, it was this damn thing! He couldn't see us." He rolled his eyes in annoyance. Autolycus had been standing right at his side and the Shield had hidden both of them. When Iolaus had lowered his arm, it must have looked as if he had appeared out of thin air standing next to the grave. Great, Iolaus, that's just freaking great. And it's only your first full day back home, too. Now what'll you do for an encore? He pulled the Shield off his arm and shoved it toward Autolycus, then knelt at the man's side.

The thief accepted the Shield absently, peering curiously down at the stranger. "Well, that explains...that, anyway. Is he breathing?"

"Yeah, he's just out." Iolaus pried up the man's eyelids to check his pupils than probed gently under his head. "There's a rock under the mud here, I think he must have hit it when he fell." The curved scar above the stranger's right brow was easily visible under the short bangs. Iolaus blinked, startled, one hand moving involuntarily to trace the identical mark on his own forehead. Not just somebody who looks like me, but somebody who is me. "I know who this is," he whispered.

"Yeah? Then enlighten me, Blondie, 'cause I'm stumped."

"This is the Iolaus from the Sovereign's world. But what's he doing here?" Iolaus said, more to himself than Autolycus. He shook his head, baffled. It didn't make sense. "I'd better get him back to the house."

"The Sovereign? You mean that story didn't just come out of Gabrielle's wild imagination? Huh." Autolycus nodded wisely, straightening up. He gestured extravagantly. "Well, there we go. It was him I saw with Hercules that day." He gave Iolaus a triumphant poke in the shoulder. "Ha! I told you I wasn't nuts."

Iolaus looked up at him, started to disagree, then went still. After a moment he said quietly, "You were right."

"You bet I was right!" Then Autolycus blinked. "Oh. Oh. Ooh, uh, yeah." He added hastily, "But I'm sure it wasn't what it looked like. Not that it looked like anything. Of course, I didn't see very much. Not that there would have been if I had been there longer to see--"

"Autolycus." Grimly, Iolaus dragged the unconscious man over his shoulders and stood up. "Shut. Up."

***

"I have a friend...we back each other up. It feels...odd not having him here." Hero's Heart

Part II

It was so dark in the barn that Xena had to lead Argo out into the yard to finish saddling her. The gray daylight was enough to make her wince; her head pounded and she cursed herself for that last rhyton of wine last night. She vaguely remembered standing on top of a table in somebody's market stall, serenading an appreciative crowd from the tavern.

She had kicked Gabrielle and Joxer out of bed a little while ago though so far neither had managed to make it out into the farmyard. She had wanted to make Pallantium by sunset, but she had to admit there was no way they could manage that now. She squinted up at the sky. The clouds were low and threatening, promising more rain for this evening.

As she slung the saddle onto Argo's back she saw Iolaus and Autolycus coming down the path from the woods, Iolaus carrying something over his shoulder. Xena leaned down to adjust the cinch, then straightened up again, staring.

Xena was still staring when they passed the garden and approached her. Frowning, she asked, "Am I still drunk?"

"I wish I was," Iolaus told her grimly as he carried the unconscious man up onto the porch and into the house.

"Huh," Xena commented thoughtfully. Then if her eyes weren't deceiving her, there was only one other possibility.

Autolycus stopped beside Xena and Argo, an unfamiliar pack slung over his shoulder. "You'll never believe who that is," he said, smoothing his mustache confidently.

"Iolaus' double from the Sovereign's world," Xena said absently, watching the house with a faint frown. She raised her voice to call, "Gabrielle!"

Autolycus looked affronted. "You knew? Why am I always the last to know?" He folded his arms, looking away. "It's a conspiracy."

"Yeah, it's a conspiracy," Xena agreed laconically. "You're onto us now."

Gabrielle appeared in the doorway, carrying her bag and her staff, Jason escorting her with one hand on her elbow. "I'll just be out here," she was saying. As Jason turned back into the house, she stepped off the porch and crossed over to Xena and Argo. "I think Jason and Iolaus wanted to have a private conversation," she explained.

"Yeah." Xena nodded. She tried to hold back, but she wasn't made of stone. She leaned toward Gabrielle and asked in a low voice, "What happened?"

Gabrielle glanced at the house and replied in a whisper, "He fell and hit his head, up on the road. I don't think anyone knew he was coming here."

Autolycus, who had leaned close to hear too, stepped back and snorted derisively. "That's an understatement."

Xena had no idea what he meant, but she lowered her brows and gave him a hard stare, just on principle.

Iolaus came out of the house, his expression intensely preoccupied. He scuffed one boot in the dirt, then noticed his audience and walked over reluctantly.

"You okay?" Gabrielle put her hand on his arm, watching him worriedly.

Iolaus nodded sharply. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...startled."

Xena eyed him for a moment. He didn't look fine. She jerked her head toward the house. "So that was the other guy."

Iolaus stared at her. "You knew about that?"

Gabrielle nodded. "Everybody knows."

He let out his breath and planted his hands on his hips. He said dryly, "Not everybody."

Xena's brows lifted. "You're kidding."

"You didn't know?" Gabrielle echoed. She and Xena exchanged an incredulous look.

Behind Iolaus, Xena saw Autolycus about to go through the stranger's pack. Iolaus followed her gaze and whipped around to confront the King of Thieves. Before he could say anything Autolycus spotted his grim expression, yelped and tossed him the pack.

Autolycus looked from Iolaus to Xena, then slipped the Shield onto his arm and disappeared. Iolaus stood there a moment, then said, "You know what? That's someone else's problem." He put the pack down on the porch and turned back to the two women. "Look, I've got to...." He made a vague gesture away from the farm.

Xena started to step toward him but sensed him pull away. She settled for giving his shoulder a quick squeeze. "Go ahead," she urged him. "We'll be in Pallantium."

"We'll never make Pallantium by dark," Gabrielle told her reprovingly, stepping close to hug Iolaus and not giving him a chance to avoid her.

Watching him go, Argo snorted and tossed her head. Xena ran her fingers through the mare's mane and sighed in agreement. Part of her -- the part that didn't know when to keep its mouth shut -- was tempted to weigh in and help settle this. But she had learned, even before the walls around her heart had broken, that interfering in Hercules and Iolaus' relationship was a quick trip to Tartarus. Giving them a common enemy to unite against might speed things up, but they would settle it on their own soon enough. And besides, she had had a shitty year herself and didn't need to make it worse by spending a day with two friends yelling at her.

"He's really upset," Gabrielle said softly, still concerned. "I wish--"

Autolycus popped back into visibility suddenly beside them. Gabrielle sighed in annoyance and Xena rolled her eyes.

"This is gonna be bloody," Autolycus predicted wisely. He hefted the Shield on his arm. "I got dibs on invisibility. The rest of you will just have to take your chances."

"Autolycus," Gabrielle said reprovingly.

The King of Thieves dropped an arm over her shoulders for a reassuring squeeze. "Oh, don't worry, honey, they won't hit you," he said kindly. "Just don't get too close."

"Autolycus..." Gabrielle said, this time through gritted teeth.

That's it, Xena thought. Maybe if they left and Autolycus lost half his audience, he would take himself off too. She checked Argo's girth again and told Gabrielle, "We're leaving."

The younger woman shook her head, frowning thoughtfully. "I think we should stay and help."

"They don't want help," Xena explained patiently. She turned toward the house to call, "Joxer! We're leaving!"

"I'll talk to Iolaus and you talk to Hercules--" Gabrielle began. "No, they'll expect that. Maybe we should do it the other way around. What do you think?"

"I think we're leaving. Joxer!"

Joxer hurried out of the house, his battered helmet tucked under his arm. "Isn't Jason going to kill Perseus? I wanted to see that. Gabby could write a scroll about it."

"Nobody's killing anybody," Xena told him. "Get moving."

"Joxer." Gabrielle turned to him earnestly. "Don't you think we should stay and help Iolaus and Hercules work this out?"

Joxer looked down at her in disbelief. "Yeah, right," he snorted.

Gabrielle shook her head, turning back to Xena. "I don't think Iolaus was that mad."

Xena turned impatiently to her. "So if you died and I found another version of you to travel with me, who looked exactly like you but she was utterly useless in a fight and couldn't write a scroll or tell a tale worth a damn, and then you came back to life and found out about it on your own, after I had every opportunity to tell you and didn't, you'd be perfectly okay with it?"

"If that happens, I'm not carrying her stuff," Joxer muttered darkly.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes and leaned on her staff. She said deliberately, "I would understand what you had been going through, and realize that this was just an expression of your pain over losing me." She thought about it for a moment, staring off across the muddy fields with narrowed eyes. She nodded to herself and shrugged. "Then I'd kill you."

"That's what I thought. Let's go." Xena gave Joxer a slap on the butt to get him moving, then swung up into the saddle.

***

Hercules jogged down the forest path, the woods shadowed by the gray clouds overhead. He was hoping to get back to the house before the heavy rain started. His shoulders still ached from Maug's parting hug, but at least the ogre had calmed down and would probably stay away from the village for another month or so.

It was just another reminder of the responsibilities he had abandoned for his fruitless wanderings in Eire and Norseland. He wished he could attribute that long detour into self-pity to Dahak, but he had only himself to blame. If he had remained in Sumeria or returned directly to Greece, he might have realized that Dahak had trapped Iolaus sooner, might have prevented.... He shook his head with an impatient sigh. There wasn't any point in going over it all again.

When he reached the place where the path turned down the hill to wind through the last stretch of woods, he was surprised to see Salmoneus pacing under the dripping trees. The merchant's blue and gold patterned robes were as bright as a bird's plumage against the deep green of the shadowed forest.

Worried, Hercules called, "Salmoneus, something wrong? Not Perseus...."

"No, no, not him." Salmoneus folded his arms, tapping one sandalled foot on the muddy path. "Guess what we all found out?"

Hercules halted near him, puzzled by his grim expression. "What?"

"Well," Salmoneus said deliberately, "apparently, there's two Iolauses--"

Hercules' jaw dropped. "Oh no."

"--but it's not hard to tell them apart, because one has short hair, and the other is really pissed off at you."

Hercules grimaced, looking past Salmoneus toward the trees that blocked the view of the farm from here. "Oh, no."

Salmoneus threw his arms in the air. "And I have a question: What! Were! You! Thinking!?"

Hercules rubbed his forehead. "Salmoneus--"

The merchant paced back and forth, gesturing in agitation. "I can't believe you did this. Did you give no thought to me? How is this going to look in your biography?"

"Salmoneus, I didn't-- It wasn't-- I had to save his life, I couldn't leave--" Hercules halted in exasperation. "Why am I explaining this to you?"

Salmoneus planted his hands on his hips. "Because you need practice for explaining it to somebody else?"

Hercules stared at him a moment. "Good point."

***

"Well if that's all it was then why didn't you tell me? And Iolaus?" Salmoneus demanded a few moments later as they were walking up through the field toward the farm.

"You weren't here. And I didn't tell Iolaus because--" Hercules broke off as he saw the other Iolaus step out onto the porch of the house and look around.

It struck him immediately how different this man was from his Iolaus. It wasn't just that he had cut his hair in the time since Hercules had seen him last; it was the way he stood, the way he held himself. And though the two were exactly the same age to the heartbeat the man standing on the porch looked at least a good ten years older.

The first night after they had come back through the portal from the Sovereign's world had been awkward. They had spent it in the shelter of a shallow cave with rain pouring outside and the dark rumble of thunder in the distance. Hercules had lain awake, turning over the same bitter regrets, falling into disturbed sleep only to be woken by unpleasant dreams and the realization that this was going to be much harder than he had thought.

He badly wanted to help the other Iolaus, but he wasn't sure if this was the right solution. If the man would be able to find a life in this world. It had to be just as hard for him to trust himself to the double of the man who had tortured him for most of his life. Hercules stirred uneasily. Looking across the cave, he could see the man shivering in his sleep, cold because he had picked a place too far from the fire. Hercules knew better by now than to go over to take him the extra blanket. You'll make it work. For Iolaus' sake. Both of them, he told himself. It would be a little easier if he could tactfully talk the man into finding some decent clothes. It was the hat that Hercules mainly found it hard to look at. The hat and the shoes. Those just couldn't be comfortable....

Hercules shook the unhappy memory off now as he crossed the farmyard to the porch. In a way he was glad the man had shown up; he had left Hercules early one morning, saying goodbye only in a note. Maybe the fact that he had returned meant he had adjusted more to this world and that he was willing to trust Hercules a little further now. "Uh, hi," he said.

Iolaus looked up at him a little uncomfortably, giving him an apologetic smile. "I came at a bad time."

"No, I..." Hercules gestured vaguely, "this is all my fault."

"I'm glad we all agree on that," Salmoneus put in.

Hercules resolutely ignored him. "Where's...?"

The other man had no need to ask who he meant. He winced. "He went somewhere."

Oh, that's not good. Hercules tapped his fingers on his belt thoughtfully. "Did he look...upset?"

"I don't know, I was unconscious."

Hercules shook his head slightly, baffled. "Why were you unconscious?"

"Apparently there's a Shield of Invisibility and it was just the wildest coincidence--"

Listening to the story, Hercules tried not to wince. And he found the marker. Great. He had meant to tell Iolaus about that this morning, maybe take him up there to show it to him and talk about what they should do with it now. Hercules looked away into the dense forest on the hills above the farm, frowning. It was hard enough to track Iolaus when he didn't want to be found; if he had the Shield of Invisibility Hercules had no hope of finding him at all. "Did he take the Shield with him?"

"No, Autolycus has it," Salmoneus answered. The merchant was hovering nearby, not even bothering to pretend not to listen. "And don't ask where he is because we don't know, he's invisible."

Oh, that's just great. Hercules took a deep breath. "All right. I'll...deal with that later." He managed to smile reassuringly down at Iolaus. "Excuse me, I need to talk to Jason for a moment."

He stepped into the house and found Jason in front of the hearth, building up the fire.

Holding on to his patience with some difficulty, Hercules asked, "Jason, why didn't you explain to Iolaus?" He kept his voice low and even, mindful that the other Iolaus was just outside with Salmoneus and any display of even mild annoyance on Hercules' part tended to stir bad memories for him.

Jason, to his credit, didn't bother to say "which one?" He glanced up at him, keeping his expression neutral. "I'm not your apologist, Hercules--"

"Jason--"

"--and I can't explain something I didn't understand myself," he finished, getting to his feet and dusting off his hands.

Hercules shook his head, frustrated. "I told you what happened--"

"You told me where he came from," Jason interrupted.

Hercules stared at him for a long moment. "I didn't tell you what happened."

"Not really, no," Jason said patiently, folding his arms.

Hercules took a deep breath, looking away. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head ruefully, then turned back to him. "Sorry, Jason. I should have talked to you more at the time." He gestured helplessly. "Do you know where he went?"

Jason let out his breath and the set of his shoulders relaxed. "He went for a walk, Hercules. Don't follow him. Just give him some time."

Hercules pressed his lips together, staring absently at the door. The fact that Iolaus hadn't stayed to tell him just how angry he was suggested he was very angry indeed. Hercules badly wanted to find him right now and explain, but if he needed time.... He nodded reluctantly. "All right."

***

Iolaus didn't realize how long it had been until he pushed past a low-hanging branch and the leaves heavy with water brushed his face. He jumped, startled. It was growing dark, the sun setting somewhere behind the heavy gray clouds above the hills, and the wind had turned cold.

I drifted off, Iolaus thought, looking around. He was in the forested hills above the farm, on the narrow path that wound up the west side. He had been trying so hard not to think he must have put himself into a light meditative state, and a few hours had gone by without his noticing. He ran a hand through his dripping hair. He had meant to take some time to collect himself, not disappear for the rest of the day. Hercules would be wondering where he was. Oh, great. Yeah, you needed to make a bigger spectacle of yourself.

Iolaus started back down the path, cursing under his breath. It was raining lightly and the clouds he could see through the trees were dark and heavy. And his stomach was empty.

It was quiet, just the wind moving through the tall pines and the tap of raindrops on leaves. Iolaus realized this was the first time he had really been alone since he had come back to life. Anaket's household had been far larger and more active than Kheper's; there had been her friends and relatives and servants and the servants' friends and relatives. And with the celebration of the Pharaoh's return to life and Wahankh's defeat, the city had been one continuous party.

No, that wasn't quite right. That first night at Kheper's house, late, after everyone else was asleep, he had walked out in one of the hot moonlit courts. He had been afraid to go to sleep. He still hadn't been able to remember much of what happened while he had been dead, but he did remember that for a long time whenever something had changed, things had gotten worse.

A lot worse. He had been afraid that if he went to sleep he would wake up somewhere else, somewhere he didn't want to be. The feeling had receded with every morning that he woke since then, but it still lurked in the back of his mind.

Stop that. Just stop it right now, he told himself firmly, ducking under a branch.

The heavy rain started before he made it out of the woods, taking the rest of the fading gray daylight with it. As the path came out of the trees at the last hill, he could see the house past the dark bulk of the barn, warm light escaping from the windows through the shutters, lamps burning on the porch. He paused, realizing he was breathing hard, vastly relieved and not sure why. What did you expect to see? he thought, then decided he didn't want the answer.

Hurrying, he missed the muddy patch where the path turned, slipped, hit the ground and slid down the rest of the way, coming to a stop in a prickly bush. Cursing, he untangled himself, kicked the bush, and stamped across the field.

Iolaus stopped on the porch, vainly trying to scrape his boots off on the boards. Mud and water dripped off his clothes; he considered lying down in the horse trough in the barn but Salmoneus' mules would need clean water. He sighed and shoved the hair out of his face and eyed the partly open door. He could hear Jason shifting in a chair and coughing, and knew they had probably heard him out here cursing and bumping around. Right. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Jason, Salmoneus, and -- Iolaus -- were sitting at the table. Iolaus nodded to the first two men, then forced himself to make eye contact with the third. "Sorry about earlier today," he said.

"That's all right," the other man said hastily, self-consciously. "They explained about the Shield. I...didn't know you were alive and it was just a surprise."

"Yeah, well...." Iolaus took a sharp breath and scratched the back of his head, searching desperately for something else to say.

Salmoneus got up and bustled around the table, saying, "You okay? You look awful."

Iolaus smiled, grateful for the break in the awkward moment and the chance to escape. "Yeah, I know. I'm going to go clean up."

He reached the room he and Hercules were sharing and stirred up the banked fire in the hearth. He was chilled from the wet night and angry at himself for being so unnerved. He glanced around and saw somebody had moved his things in here from the cabinet in the outer room. His sword and bow stood propped in the corner and his old travel packs lay atop an oak chest carved with grape and laurel leaves. He noticed Hercules' pack still sat in the chair where it had been this morning.

Jason stepped in, pulling the door closed behind him. He dumped an armload of drying cloths on the little table and regarded Iolaus seriously. "You okay?"

"Sure." Iolaus nodded firmly, dropping the poker back on the hearth and sitting on the floor to wrestle off his boots. "I slipped in the mud and was attacked by a bush, no big deal. Where's Herc?"

Jason studied him a moment. He sat down on the bed, absently smoothing a hand over the blue and black patterned blanket of Alcmene's weaving. "He went out when it got dark, claiming he wanted to take a walk."

"Damn," Iolaus muttered, pulling his first boot off. Water ran out of it into the muddy pool that was already forming around him on the stone flags. "I lost track of time, I didn't mean to.... Damn."

Jason waited as if he expected Iolaus to say something more, then nodded toward the front room. "He's been living in Athens. He heard the rumors that moron Perseus started and came here to see if he could help, if we needed somebody who was with Hercules around that time to attest to what really happened."

"Oh?" Iolaus busied himself with a broken lace. "So he's really okay about this morning?"

"Oh yeah, he's fine. Well, he's jumpy, but he's got reason to be. I take it the farm didn't exactly look like this where he comes from. And I've managed not to ask what kind of psychotic warlord my double is in his world. Salmoneus has been helpful; I'm going to ask if Iphicles needs a good interrogator in the Corinthian army; that man could get conversation out of anybody. And Autolycus has been appearing and disappearing randomly around the place; we've all just been ignoring him." He hesitated, his face troubled. "Iolaus--"

Iolaus looked up inquiringly, keeping his expression casual. "What?"

Jason watched him a moment, then shook his head in resignation. "Never mind." He tossed Iolaus a towel, getting to his feet. "I'll scare up some dinner for you."

Iolaus set his boots aside. He was feeling like he had already caused enough trouble for everybody today. "Don't bother, I'm not hungry."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." He laughed at Jason's surprised expression.

Still shaking his head, Jason stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Iolaus took a deep breath, rubbing his face. After a moment he got to his feet, stripping off his wet clothes and draping them over the bench near the fire. Vigorous work with several towels removed the mud from his hair and chilled skin. Finally he was clean enough to dig into the chest at the foot of the bed for something to wear. As he hoped, his old clothes were still there. He pulled out a faded shirt but a pair of pants stubbornly failed to surface. Incredulous, he sorted through disintegrating boots, a threadbare himation, an old leather vest that something with large teeth had bitten chunks out of and other assorted items, but nothing like a pair of pants. He sat back on his heels, shaking his head in disbelief. I can't believe I don't have another pair of pants. He couldn't blame it on being dead, either. These were the same clothes that had been in here since before they had left for Sumeria.

Swearing under his breath, he dragged out an old faded blue tunic and stood up to pull it on. Looking down at himself, he rolled his eyes. Part of the hem was ragged and didn't come near as close to his knees as it should; he remembered having to tear off a hunk of it to staunch a wound. Yeah, tonight I need to look like a Nemean rent boy who can't get clients.

He mopped up the puddles on the floor, thinking guiltily of what Alcmene would say if she was here. Finally admitting that what she would say was that he was stalling, he ran his hands through his damp hair and took a deep breath. Well, here we go again.

He wandered out into the main room, trying to look like this was just a normal evening. Jason glanced up, registered the outfit and started to grin. Iolaus threw him a dark look that plainly said that blood would be shed if this became an issue. Jason's expression immediately sobered.

Salmoneus had been talking about something to do with their friend Atalanta and broke off to tell Iolaus, "Nice legs."

"Thanks," Iolaus said dryly. He sat down on the bench near the hearth, glad his still damp condition gave him an excuse, so it didn't look like he had chosen a seat as far away from the other Iolaus as possible.

The man was looking at him with an oddly tentative expression, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't quite bring himself to. Iolaus found himself ducking his head to avoid the man's eyes. Before he could gather his wits and think of something to say himself, a familiar step on the porch made him look up sharply.

Hercules halted in the open doorway, staring at him. He was dripping wet and his boots were muddy, though it didn't look like he had rolled down the hill too. After an instant he shook his head slightly and said mildly, "There you are."

"Yeah." Iolaus sat up, taking a deep breath. "Sorry."

Hercules concentrated on scraping his boots off on the wood outside the door. "Oh, no, I uh...wanted to take a walk anyway." A rumble of thunder underlined the inanity of that statement and the demigod winced a little.

"Oh, yeah, well." Iolaus looked away, scratching his head. He couldn't help flicking a quick glance at the other Iolaus. He was trying not to watch them but doing it anyway and he had tensed noticeably. What's he so nervous about, Iolaus wondered. Then he shook his head at himself. Oh Tartarus, if you spent your whole life as the Sovereign's animate toy, you'd be nervous all the time too.

Hercules was looking around absently. He noticed the other Iolaus' tension and smiled reassuringly. Iolaus found himself studying the stains on the old hearthstone. Stop it, he told himself. You have no right to complain. You're lucky to be here at all, he told himself fiercely. He looked up suddenly to find Hercules standing over him. The demigod said, "Ah, we really need to talk."

Suddenly Iolaus really, really didn't want to have this conversation. He had been unconsciously avoiding it all afternoon. He shook his head, getting to his feet, remembering just in time to tug the tunic down in front. "Actually, Herc, I'm kind of tired...."

"I think we really need to--"

"No, really we don't--"

"Iolaus, I have to talk to you--"

"No, you don't--"

"Yes, I do--"

"Herc--"

"Iolaus--"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"NO!" Iolaus stepped closer to Hercules, lifting his chin, all his uncertainty giving way to fury. "What do you care what I think? You've got your property back, isn't that all that matters?"

"What?" Baffled and angry, Hercules stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Isn't that what you told the Sumerian Death God? It had something that belonged to you?"

"I...didn't...know you heard that." Flustered, Hercules made an attempt to take the high ground. "That's not the point--"

"Isn't it?" Iolaus insisted, still too irate to think about what he was saying or where it had come from. "Was that what it was? You didn't want another god taking your toys?"

"Of course not!" Hercules gestured angrily.

"So if I wanted to leave here tomorrow, leave you, you'd let me walk out that door?"

"You know I would!"

"And you wouldn't follow me?"

"I--" Hercules turned abruptly and made for the door. "I can't talk to you if you're going to act like this."

"Well that was kind of the point, Hercules. What part of 'I don't want to talk' did you not understand?" Iolaus followed him to the door, shouting after him as the demigod stalked off into the rainy night, "Oh, and could you have buried me any further from the house? Was the cranberry bog too crowded?"

Suddenly aware of the stunned silence in the room behind him, Iolaus turned and the first face his eyes fell on was his own.

The man had pushed back from the table a little, as if bracing to dodge for cover. Seeing that mix of fear and incredulity on his own features stopped him dead in his tracks.

His anger disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced. Iolaus tore his gaze away from his double's arrested expression and stamped down the hallway to the back of the house. He flung out the back door onto the raised porch and dropped down on the bench, burying his face in his hands. I can't believe you did that. You and your big mouth.

Jason stepped out the door and sat down next to him, stretching out his legs to prop his boots on the wet mud-splattered boards. After a moment he said, "Salmoneus owes me five dinars."

"Oh?" Iolaus looked up, resting his forearms on his knees.

"We were betting on who would storm off first and end up sleeping in the barn tonight." Jason stretched and cracked his knuckles. "I remembered that time I had to practically drag you off the battlement at the siege of Megara and figured you just wouldn't be able to give up the ground no matter how mad you were."

"Great." Iolaus propped his chin in his hand. That he had blown up in front of Jason and Salmoneus didn't bother him as much as losing his temper in front of the other Iolaus. I'm one of the only people here who knows what his world was like, what he had to deal with; I don't need to be causing him anymore grief. "So I guess that scared him pretty bad, huh?" he said ruefully.

"Sure did," Jason chuckled. Then he blinked. "Oh, you meant Iolaus. Actually, I think that did him some good." He paused thoughtfully. "Hearing Hercules say that you weren't with him against your will, that you were his partner and not his slave, that's one thing. Seeing you tell Hercules off is another. We'll set aside the incongruity of saying Hercules thinks he owns you and then chasing him out of his mother's house."

Iolaus winced. "I shouldn't have said that--"

"Probably not, but I got quite a kick out of it. No, I think that may have been one of the things Iolaus needed to find out for certain, whether he realized it or not."

"Maybe." Iolaus looked out at the dark fields. "The Sovereign.... You don't get over a lifetime of that in a few days, that's for sure." He looked back at Jason. "You and Herc been fighting?"

"Ah, not...too much." Jason shifted uncomfortably. "Things were a little strained. Well, a lot strained. I don't know about Hercules being the perfect blend of man and god. Personally I couldn't see it from where I was sitting. I guess if you don't have to live with him...."

Iolaus snorted wryly.

Jason grinned, then sobered. "I felt like I couldn't reach him. It was as if he was only pretending to be there, just going through the motions. Even for Morrigan. He did tell you about Morrigan, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he met her in Eire. He said he asked her to stay here with him, but it didn't work out." He thought about it, frowning. He had thought the relationship was a good sign, showing that things hadn't been too bad for Hercules while Dahak had been on the rampage. But now he realized that Hercules had talked about Morrigan, but not much else. "What was he doing in Eire, anyway?"

"I don't know. He just headed out in Nebula's ship, got caught in some storms, went aground somewhere."

Iolaus lifted his brows. "He sailed from Sumeria to Eire by accident?" He wasn't sure of the exact geography, but it sounded improbable at best. For Hercules, it sounded impossible. "Then beached Nebula's ship?"

"I think he was trying to kill himself, but he was just too damn good a sailor to let the boat sink. Anyway, he almost pretended himself into a marriage with Morrigan. Lucky for both of them it didn't happen." Jason leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees and looking down at the wet boards. "In some ways, I feel like yesterday was the first time I've actually spoken to the real Hercules since you two left for Sumeria. Iolaus," he hesitated, "what you said he told that Sumerian Death God...he was out of his mind."

"I know." Iolaus shook his head impatiently. "I know he didn't mean it--"

"No, you were right, he probably did mean it at the time, but I talked to Nebula, and I think he was out of his mind, literally. Like after Deineira and the kids." The bench creaked as Jason shifted. "You know, Alcmene used to talk about the day he came here after it happened. She said he just sat there and calmly told her his plan to destroy all of Hera's temples, and she just couldn't reach him, it was like talking to a statue."

Iolaus wet his lips, thinking about it. He shook his head. "Maybe I should just get out of here, go over to my old place. Darius is just using the forge, right?"

"Why?" Jason sounded startled.

The long wet walk with nothing but the cold empty house at the end of it was not attractive, but maybe it was better than being here, feeling out of place and causing all this turmoil. Iolaus said firmly, "Because I've caused him enough problems. I'll come back in a couple days when things settle down." He started to stand.

Jason's hand on his shoulder halted him. "Iolaus, don't be an idiot," he said, exasperated, tugging him back down on the bench. "Look, I just know he needs you. You, not your double."

"That's not it, I'm not mad about that. That's not what this is about," Iolaus protested.

Frustratingly, Jason ignored that, continuing, "When he showed up with Iolaus, he was better, trying harder, but he still wasn't himself. I think he could have held it together, but...I just can't shake the feeling that doing the things he has to do, while he felt like that, was just a disaster waiting to happen."

Iolaus subsided unwillingly, but sat quietly for a while, watching the raindrops collect in pools, the reflected light from the flickering lamps inside the house making them gleam. "Kheper said that gods are what their people think they are," he said finally.

Jason nodded. "Maybe that's true. I've always thought it's the god half that makes him vulnerable, not the human half."

Salmoneus appeared in the doorway, carrying a clay hand lamp. "Hey, guys. Are you still mad?" he asked Iolaus, then waved a hand conspiratorially. "Never mind, I'll tell him you're still mad."

"Salmoneus, don't--" The merchant had already bustled back into the house. Iolaus sighed. "Dammit."

***

The man rode up out of the rainy dark into the farmyard, reining in near where the lamps flickered on the porch. He dismounted, stumbling a little in the mud, and stepped up onto the wet boards. He approached the open door cautiously, calling, "Hello! Anyone there?"

"Who wants to know?" Salmoneus demanded, appearing suddenly in the doorway. He lifted his lamp, eyeing the stranger suspiciously. The man was dressed as a soldier, in ring-set leather mail mud-splattered by long hours of travel.

"I'm sent by King Pheidon, to find Hercules," the man said diffidently, pulling off his leather helm. "Is he here? We heard he was returning to Greece."

Salmoneus sighed. "Well, yes, but it's kind of a bad time. Can you come back later?"

The man stared blankly, then jumped violently when Hercules said from behind him, "I'm here. What's the problem?"

"You're Hercules?" the man sounded uncertain, staring at the figure who had loomed suddenly out of the dark farmyard. He probably hadn't been expecting to find a demigod soaking wet and almost as mud-spattered as he was.

"I don't think you should take on anything right now," Salmoneus protested as Hercules stepped up onto the porch. He lifted his brows significantly. "You know, what with everything else you have to deal with."

"Salmoneus--" Hercules sighed and turned to the soldier. "Just tell me why you're here."

The soldier took a deep breath. "There's trouble near Cenchreae, a monster."

"What kind of monster?"

"No one knows. It attacked another village last night and killed a dozen people. All the young men. They think it's a lamia. You've got to--"

"Hold it." Hercules lifted a hand to stop the flood of words. "Salmoneus, go ask Iolaus to come out here."

The merchant shook his head. "I'm not sure you two should get involved. I don't think you're up to it. Why don't we send for Xena? They probably didn't have a chance to get too far today. I bet--"

"Salmoneus--" Hercules took a deep breath. "Just go get Iolaus."

Salmoneus folded his arms and said archly, "Which one?"

"Very funny."

As Salmoneus vanished into the house, Hercules turned back to the soldier, who was watching him dubiously. "I... It's been a strange night," the demigod said apologetically.

A moment later Iolaus appeared in the doorway. He sized up the soldier with a glance then flicked a guarded look at Hercules. "What's up?" he said.

"Village near Cenchreae was attacked by something."

"Huh. What did--" Iolaus noticed the soldier staring at his state of dress and said with grim menace, "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing," the soldier said hastily, looking down and shuffling his feet.

"They think it's a lamia," Hercules explained. "You want to go take care of it?"

Iolaus eyed him warily. "Sure. You want to?"

Hercules nodded. "Yeah."

Iolaus shrugged. "Fine. Let's go."

"Right." Relieved, Hercules turned to the soldier, who was watching them both as if they were crazy. Hercules supposed he couldn't blame him. "Why don't you take care of your horse and then come inside and tell us everything you know about this."

The man nodded gratefully, either at the assurance of help or the opportunity to escape, and led the weary horse toward the barn.

"Iolaus--" Hercules stepped into the house, reaching to put a hand on Iolaus' shoulder but Iolaus absently turned away, moving out of reach.

Without looking up he said, "Herc, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said those things."

"No, that's all right, but what I wanted to tell you--"

"I've got to get dressed if we're going to go after this thing." Iolaus walked away down the hall.

***

"This is really funny because usually on our journeys I'm the one that does the babbling." "Babbling? What, you're saying I'm babbling? Like I'm talking incessantly, babbling? Mumbling anything that pops into my head babbling? That kind of babbling?" A Star to Guide them

Part III

They set out for Cenchreae as soon as possible, pausing only to grab enough supplies for a few days on the road. Jason had given the exhausted messenger a meal and space to bed down in the barn; the man had offered to go with them but they knew the way and it wasn't as if he had seen the monster for himself. It had apparently attacked three villages, all within the past week, all at night. There were survivors but their accounts were confused, some saying it was large and close to the ground like some kind of serpent, some saying it flew, some saying it appeared and disappeared at will. There was no telling how exaggerated the accounts had been by the time King Pheidon had gotten word of it. Hercules knew they would just have wait to talk to the actual witnesses before making any plans.

The rain stopped finally and the clouds parted a little to let the moonlight through, so they made good time over the muddy forest trail. Despite everything, Hercules was glad to be on the road again, with a firm goal in mind. Get there, find the monster, and kill it. His recent journeys had all seemed to be desperate attempts to regain lost ground, or pointless attempts to talk sense to impossibly stubborn people.

Speaking of talking sense to stubborn people.... Hercules had sensed considerably less simmering from Iolaus' direction and figured it was as safe as it was going to get to bring up the subject again. He began carefully, "Iolaus, how did you know about...what I said to the Sumerian Death God? I didn't really remember it myself until you...mentioned it."

Beside him Iolaus shrugged, his eyes focused on the dark trail ahead. He must have been digging around in his old clothes, because the cloak he was wearing over his muddy leathers was an old gray himation that Hercules hadn't seen for years. He had his pack and his swordbelt slung over his shoulder, tucked under it for protection against the damp and the occasional showers from the wet leaves overhead. "I don't know. It just came to me."

Hercules ducked a low branch. "Those dreams I had, where I was seeing things that were happening to you. Did you see things that were happening to me?"

Iolaus shook his head, eyes still fixed on the path. "No."

"But part of you was with me. Maybe that part has some memories of things I saw and did."

"And all the parts are finally bringing each other up to date?" Iolaus shrugged as if it didn't matter. "Maybe."

Exasperated, Hercules persisted, "Iolaus, if you're remembering things maybe you should talk about it."

Iolaus gestured in frustration. "I don't-- I'm not-- It's not anything I can talk about. It's just fragments that don't make sense. Herc, I'm sorry I said those things--"

"I'm not," Hercules said mildly.

After a moment, Iolaus laughed.

Hercules grinned down at him, so glad to have the air a little clearer between them that he decided to drop the subject for now.

After a time the trail opened up into a grassy clearing, leading down to a trickling stream, lost somewhere under the shadows of the trees. Hercules paused, studying the gradually lightening sky to judge the time, and shifted his pack off his shoulder. "Hey, let's stop here."

"Huh?" Iolaus was almost halfway across the clearing before he glanced up, distracted as if he had been deep in thought. "Why?"

"We're nearly there. We should eat and let the sun rise before we tackle this thing."

"Oh, right." Iolaus shook himself, seemed to snap out of whatever reverie had occupied him, and came back to help.

Hercules picked a fairly dry spot under the shelter of the trees and started to dig a shallow pit for a small fire, as Iolaus poked through the scrub further in, looking for dry wood. As Hercules got a small blaze going he realized they had gone about making camp without comment or discussion, falling automatically back into old habits. And it felt really, really good. He looked up to say just that to Iolaus and saw his partner had wrapped up in his cloak and lay curled up, his head pillowed on his pack, and sound asleep.

Smiling to himself, Hercules turned to his own pack, digging through the hastily collected supplies for something to make a quick meal. Iolaus could catnap anywhere, under any conditions.

I wish he'd talk about what's bothering him, Hercules thought, making a spot in the firepit for the cooking pot. It wasn't that Hercules wanted his opportunity to explain his actions -- well, yes it was, but not only that. It had to be a...shock, what happened today. It can't be doing him any good to hold it in. Normally Iolaus was the most straightforward person Hercules had ever known. If he had something to get off his chest, he had to do it immediately. If he was holding back, there had to be a reason.

Hercules wasn't sure Iolaus himself realized why he felt compelled to hide any injury up to those that left him barely able to stagger to his feet. Whenever Iolaus had gotten hurt or sick as a boy, it just meant more work for his mother, already overburdened by the rest of her children. And more proof that his father Skouros was right when he had called him a weakling and threatened to abandon him. It was Skouros' own fault that he had been too proud to admit he was wrong while he was alive, to acknowledge that he had a son stronger than most mortals and more stubborn than most gods.

Hercules paused, turning that thought over. Maybe it wasn't that he was pushing Iolaus too hard to talk. Maybe he wasn't pushing him hard enough.

In a way the demigod had become too used to the Iolaus from the Sovereign's world, to carefully controlling his temper in front of him, to modifying everything he said and did to keep from frightening him. Maybe he had forgotten just how thick-skinned and thick-headed this Iolaus could be, how he thrived on confrontation. And it isn't as if he can't defend himself in an argument, Hercules thought wryly.

***

He was in that place again, the dark world that had no limits but nowhere to hide either, no way to escape. He was confronting Dahak in a place that looked like a rocky cave and diffuse light came from everywhere and nowhere. It was wearing Hercules' appearance this time. Iolaus really hated that.

It said, "Look."

Iolaus turned his head toward the slash of light in reflex, then it was too late. He saw a forest trail and two men.... It's Herc. He took an involuntary step toward the image, throat tightening with a surge of loneliness. And...not me. He stared in bafflement, squinting to see. The figure walking beside and a little behind Hercules looked like Iolaus, but wasn't. For a moment he wondered if he was seeing Orestes somehow returned to life, or some weird vision of an alternate past where Hercules had known the King of Attica. But the man didn't walk like Orestes either. Then he recognized the outfit. That's the other me, from the Sovereign's world. The Jester, walking with his shoulders hunched a little, looked tiny, almost child-like next to the demigod. I don't look like that when we're...when we were together, did I? "What..."

Dahak said, "That is a possible future. Hercules returns to the place you call the Sovereign's world and brings back your duplicate. Your replacement."

Still staring at the image, Iolaus shook his head, confused. He wanted to stay confused. He sensed enlightenment looming over him like a headsman's axe. "Replacement...."

"Of course. He's everything you aren't. Obedient. Biddable. Loyal."

Except an axe would have been quick. One brief instant of stunned agony, then nothing. This blow kept falling.

"He has your name, your face, your body," the creature continued. "But he's not a warrior. He's a coward. And his existence will destroy any memory of you. But perhaps that's what Hercules wants."

His voice rough with the effort of control, Iolaus said, "He's just trying to get some part of me back. That's your fault. You destroyed my memory." He turned his back and walked away from Dahak, which never worked but always gave him some satisfaction. Until the demon god thought of yet another really good way to punish him for it.

It followed him and sounding furious said, "You're still defending him?"

"You shouldn't have shown me that," Iolaus said grimly. "That's a future where you don't win, because he's still alive." He stopped abruptly at the cave entrance. The landscape had changed again and now the rest of the world was limitless rock, bare mountains in the distance, strange black and purple plants clinging to bare patches of gray dirt. The sun sat low in the sky, red as blood. This was a real place somewhere, he knew. Dahak didn't have the imagination to make up the different vistas Iolaus had seen here. It had been a forest earlier, more familiar though all the plants had had strangely yellow leaves. It was just another reminder that while he thought he was walking and talking he was just a disembodied wisp of soul, with less hope of getting out of here than of escaping from Tartarus.

Dahak was behind him suddenly, silently. Iolaus didn't look but he could sense it just behind him, feel the solid warmth of its illusionary body, feel breath stir his hair. It said softly, "What do you want most? Name it, I'll give it to you. I'll give you anything."

Iolaus was strangely numb, though somewhere it seemed like there was a distant part of himself that shuddered in horror. Defenseless, he had to tell it the truth. "To go home."

It wasn't the answer it wanted. Dahak howled rage, transformed briefly into something looming and horrible, then vanished in a whirlwind that knocked Iolaus off his feet. He tumbled down the slope, sliding in raw gravel until he caught himself against a rock. He pushed himself up wearily. This world and this body might be an illusion but his hands still stung from the cuts and his back ached from slamming against the stone.

He just sat where he was, staring into the poisonous red sunset from this other place Dahak had ravaged. He wasn't sure what the creature was so upset about. He hadn't given it what it wanted, that much was clear. He snorted with bitter amusement. His only defense seemed to lie in being inadequate to Dahak's purposes, whatever those were. Skouros wouldn't be surprised, he thought bitterly. The sky was going dark, as Dahak's attention receded and Iolaus' only reality wound down like one of King Menelaus' toys....

....then the darkness changed, turned warm and alive with familiar stars and clouds, with the rustle of pine needles and leaves. He could smell damp wool and mud and the campfire. Iolaus leapt to his feet, breathing hard, the last dregs of the dream dissolving. It took an impossibly long moment to register his surroundings, to realize it was just before dawn in a forest clearing in Cenchreae, not.... Not....

"You all right?" Hercules asked sharply from across the campfire.

"Yeah, fine," Iolaus said vaguely. His chest hurt and he pressed his hand to it. Realizing that the source of pain was the scar right above his heart, he dropped his hand and sat down hastily.

Hercules was watching him with concerned eyes. "Nightmare again?" he said cautiously.

"No, a..." Memory, he had started to say. He hadn't remembered that moment until now, but it had the feel of something that had actually happened. And now he realized how he had known about Hercules' confrontation with the Sumerian Death God: Dahak had shown it to him. It had liked to mix carefully edited bits of truth in with its lies. He knew now that was a large part of what it had wanted from him: truth that it could use. Hercules had told him that Iolaus hadn't given Dahak what it wanted, that it had barely known the most basic facts about the demigod. But Iolaus didn't remember doing that. He remembered being helpless against it, trying to conceal the answers it wanted, but that was all. But if you were hiding all those things from it, you'd have to hide the fact that you were hiding, even from yourself. He shook his head, afraid that was wishful thinking. "Yeah, a nightmare." Iolaus rubbed his eyes wearily. The phantom pain was fading. It was still dark, though the gray light filtering through the green canopy suggested dawn was close. It was too late to go back to sleep. Iolaus sighed. Twenty years of painstakingly training Hercules to let him sleep to a decent hour, wasted. These nightmares were a pain in the ass.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hercules stirred up the fire, still watching him worriedly.

"No, it's nothing." Aware how abrupt he sounded, Iolaus searched desperately for another topic of conversation. His eyes fell on the unfamiliar iron cooking pot. "Is that new?"

"Ah..." Hercules stared at the pot like he had never seen it before. "Uh huh." He dropped the stick into the fire. "You hungry?"

"Yeah." Actually, he was starving. Iolaus remembered he hadn't had dinner -- or anything else to eat today. He waited impatiently while Hercules scooped the steaming contents of the pot into a couple of cheap clay bowls, then dug in with a will.

After his stomach stopped its initial complaining Iolaus had a moment to notice what he was eating. It was just lentils and beans and spiced goatmeat but it reminded him of Alcmene's cooking. He knew Hercules hadn't made it; it wasn't slathered with rosemary. "This is really good. Did Jason get a new cook?"

Hercules hesitated, then said, "No."

Iolaus glanced up, frowning. There was something carefully neutral and suspiciously innocent about the demigod's expression. He said, "Who made this?"

Hercules found something interesting to stare at on the ground to the left of the fire. He cleared his throat. "It's left over from the dinner Iolaus made at the house earlier. He's a very good cook."

"Oh." Iolaus swallowed with difficulty. He saw Hercules watching him and forced himself to take another bite. Just don't say anything, just keep your big mouth shut for once, he told himself. "How nice," he managed.

Hercules found another stick to poke at the fire and ventured, "It would be great if you two got to know each other."

Iolaus chewed mechanically and managed to swallow again. His jaw was starting to hurt. He said through gritted teeth, "That would make my day complete."

Hercules's brows drew together. He poked at the fire again, apparently trying to arrange the coals in a specific pattern. "He was really surprised to see you."

"Yeah, I gathered that."

"Uh huh. And I know...you were surprised to see him."

That's it. Iolaus wiped his mouth on his gauntlet, set the bowl aside and said briskly, "It's getting late, we should go."

The truce lasted while Iolaus stamped out the fire and Hercules gathered their gear. They started along the trail again, accompanied by the dawn birdsong, the way winding up along the side of a hill. Over the tops of the trees down the slope the sun was rising through wreaths of cloud and the air was cool and sweet. Then Hercules began, "Look, Cenchreae is only about two days' travel away from Epidaurus."

Iolaus eyed him suspiciously. "What's in Epidaurus?"

"Asclepius' main temple."

The sometimes god, sometimes demigod of healing was Hercules' cousin. He never saw eye to eye with Zeus on anything and was the only god to be demoted, made back into a god, killed, brought back to life, and then demoted again. "So?"

"They also interpret dreams for people there."

"Interpreting it is not a problem, believe me," Iolaus said grimly. He shifted his grip on his sword and his pack strap, fixing his eyes on the path ahead.

Hercules was silent a moment, his brows drawn together worriedly. "But Asclepius will be there and he may be able to help you with them."

Iolaus shook his head. "He doesn't like me."

"He doesn't like anybody. That's just the way he is."

"Why should he want to help me?"

"He's helped you before. You're always unconscious when he shows up but--"

"Still...." Iolaus shoved his hair out of his eyes. "No, Herc, I don't want to."

"Iolaus--"

"Look, let's just do this, all right?"

Hercules shrugged. "All right, all right."

Iolaus glanced up at him, surprised at this easy victory. The subject stayed dropped for about twenty paces. Iolaus knew that because he was counting them. He was just about to lose the bet he had with himself when Hercules said, "I really think you should talk about what's bothering you."

"There is nothing bothering me," Iolaus said evenly. And they say I can't control my temper. I am controlling my temper fine. I wish there were other people here to see how well I am controlling my temper--

"I know you were upset when you found out about the other Iolaus this morning. I think if we could just talk--"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"You're repressing what's upsetting you and it's just going to get worse. If you'd talk about it--"

Swearing, Iolaus scooped up a handful of mud and threw it at him. Hercules ducked, but he slipped on the edge of the path and caught himself awkwardly against a tree trunk. Iolaus took advantage of it to hurl a second handful of mud, which caught the demigod square in the head. Iolaus tried to duck the return volley but caught a large muddy clot in the ear that sent him staggering off the path. The fight was on.

After a short but active interval they ended up off the path and halfway down the hill. Iolaus collapsed over a slimy log, spat out a mouthful of mud, and said, "Okay, that's enough of that."

Sprawled on his back nearby, trying to get the mud out of his eyes, Hercules said, "Good." He sat up with a squelch. "Did that help?"

Iolaus started to reply then thought about it a moment. He nodded in surprise. "Yeah. Yeah, it did."

"Good." Hercules nodded. "Let's go."

***

Hercules waited until they were further up the path, the trail winding up and down through the foothills at the base of the mountains, the pines and beeches clinging thickly to the slopes. It hadn't rained as hard here and there were no handy mud puddles for ammunition. Hercules scratched absently at his shoulderblade. It felt like half the mud on that hillside had gone down the back of his pants and shirt. He was obviously out of practice at wrestling with Iolaus. And the fact that they were both slippery with mud hadn't helped. When he slipped out of that chokehold and got up on your shoulders, that's what did it. He took a deep breath. Well, here we go again. He said, "Are you sure this isn't about the fact that you didn't like where I buried you?"

Iolaus stopped, buried his face in his hands, leaned on a handy tree and knocked his head against the trunk a couple of times. After this expression of extreme exasperation, he straightened up and said, "I told you it was fine."

Hercules faced him, planting his hands on his hips. "If it's fine then what was that crack about dumping your body in the cranberry bog? I thought you liked that spot up on the hill."

Iolaus let his breath out and rubbed his eyes. "I did. I mean I do." He shook his head wearily. "Look, it's not about where you buried me. Well, maybe it is, a little. I just--"

The realization that they were being watched struck both of them simultaneously and they turned as one. The clearing they had stopped on the edge of was occupied. A group of boggled villagers had crept out of the trees and brush, watching them warily.

Trying to recover control over the situation, Hercules said briskly, "All right, it's us. We're here."

There were about a dozen people in the rough clearing, mostly women, children and a few old men. This was obviously a temporary encampment; there weren't any huts or houses, just a few lean-tos quickly knocked together back under the shelter of the trees. A couple of cows and goats were tethered near them and baskets and bags of belongings were piled about. "Have some trouble on the road?" one old man said. He folded his arms and eyed them suspiciously.

Hercules realized they both still bore the evidence of the mud fight and self-consciously brushed at his face. He glanced at Iolaus, who was squinting up at the sky and seemed to be trying to affect the attitude that he had no idea who this large man standing next to him was. Hercules took a deep breath. "Ah, we're here to kill the monster. The King sent for us."

Some of the villagers looked enlightened and cheered by this news; others looked worried. Another old man scratched his head under his baggy hat and said dubiously, "You're Hercules."

"Yes, I know," Hercules said patiently. He was aware he wasn't handling this in the best possible way. "I'm Hercules, that's Iolaus, we're here for the monster."

"I'm Gelon, the headman," the old man with the hat said. He jerked his head toward the first old man, who was still watching them suspiciously. "That's Anicles."

"The King sent for Perseus," Anicles said. The other villagers nodded in agreement.

"Perseus!" Flabbergasted, Hercules stared at the man.

Iolaus' attention snapped back to the conversation and suddenly he was at Hercules' side, saying in outrage, "Oh, you've got to be kidding!" He planted his hands on his hips. "Perseus?"

Both old men nodded. "Perseus."

Hercules took a deep breath, holding on to his patience with difficulty. King Pheidon must have been uncertain whether Hercules had returned and hedged his bet by sending for Perseus. "It's understood that I take care of things in Cenchreae--" he began reasonably.

"But we heard you'd left Greece," the headman Gelon protested.

"Well, yes, but--"

Anicles topped that with, "I heard Hercules was dead."

"No, I'm dead," Iolaus corrected him. Hercules turned to stare at him and he added blankly, "I said 'was.' Didn't I?"

Taking a deep breath, Hercules turned back to Gelon. "Look, we're here now. Just tell us what happened."

***

They left the makeshift refugee camp a short time later with all the information the villagers had, though it wasn't much. The two old men Anicles and Gelon had both seemed fairly resourceful and from the comments of the others Hercules gathered it was mainly due to them that the survivors had managed to escape at all, with enough of their belongings to keep them from starving. But even they hadn't been able to tell them much about the creature that had descended on their village two nights ago. They had thought it was a lamia, since it seemed to single out the young men, but they had never managed to get a clear look at it during the confusion of its attack. There was nothing to do but go to their village and try to backtrack the creature from there.

Iolaus glanced back down the trail to make sure they were out of earshot. "I can't believe this," he muttered bitterly. Hercules flinched but before he could reply Iolaus continued, "You leave Greece for what, a month? And it's 'Oh, he must be dead, better call Perseus. So what if he just wounds the monster and makes it mad and gets half the countryside massacred and then drags off the King's virgin daughter--'"

Hercules grinned, dropping a hand on Iolaus' shoulder. "At least he won't be able to do all that while he's invisible."

Iolaus laughed, delightedly thumping Hercules on the arm. "I forgot about that. Hey, you know, Autolycus still has the Shield."

"I'm beginning to think that sounds like Perseus' problem." Hercules stopped, catching Iolaus' arm to halt him and regarding him soberly. "Look, before we go any further, finish what you were saying. Tell me what you didn't like about where I buried you."

Iolaus took a deep breath, looking away. He drew a hand over his face and finally said, "You said I was part of your family -- then why did you bury me like an honored stranger? I could have done without the honor if I thought--" Iolaus waved his hand, wincing, as if trying to wipe out what he had just said. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. I don't mean to sound ungrateful--"

"Iolaus, I wanted people to remember you for what you are -- a hero." It hadn't been lost on Hercules that bogs were places where the bodies of criminals and unwanted or destitute people were disposed of, usually with the minimum effort expended to get their souls across the Styx. "I wanted to put your monument where people could see it," he emphasized carefully.

"I.... Yeah, I know." Iolaus nodded glumly. "That was nice of you."

"Was that not what you wanted? I wasn't thinking very clearly when I made the decision," Hercules admitted. A lot of the fight seemed to have gone out of his friend and he wasn't sure that was a good sign. He said cautiously, "I was going to tell you about it and see what you thought we should do with it now."

Iolaus looked up, puzzled. "Do with it?"

"Well, you're not dead anymore. Having a grave marker might be...misleading."

"Oh. Good point." Iolaus scratched his head. "But part of me is buried there."

"Yes," Hercules agreed. He gave Iolaus' shoulder a shake. "But the rest of you is here." Iolaus still looked intensely troubled. "You don't have to decide now."

"Yeah, I know, let's just take care of this." Iolaus started off again.

Hercules looked after him, still worried. "Right," he muttered.

***

"You did beat it though, didn't you?" "Eventually, after it ate me." Cave of Echoes

Part IV

Iolaus whistled softly in shock when he saw the village. What was left of it stood in a cleared area in the forest, overhung and shaded by the canopies of the tall trees. The small thatched houses were smashed like piles of kindling, with tumbled baskets and broken pottery and other fragments of the inhabitants' possessions strewn on the ground. A stray cow, unharmed and standing in the middle of a nearly undisturbed vegetable patch, lifted its head to regard them curiously. The birdsong in the trees told Iolaus that whatever had done this was long gone, but looking at the destruction made the skin on the back of his neck itch. The morning shadows in the depths of the forest suddenly seemed much darker.

He and Hercules exchanged a worried look. "Wasn't a lamia," Iolaus commented. Whatever had destroyed the huts had been much larger and heavier.

"No," Hercules agreed, brows drawn together as he studied the scene.

They slowly advanced through the ruins. Iolaus stepped over the twisted wreck of a low fence and moved around one of the smashed huts, looking for tracks. The ground showed signs of a violent disturbance and occasional fragments of human footprints, but nothing else. He frowned, shaking his head, and widened his search. After a time, frustrated, he glanced up and said, "I'm not finding any tracks here."

Hercules stood across the way, holding up the remains of a shed's roof to check the debris underneath. He set it down carefully, shaking his head. "And I can't find any bodies. That's...not good."

Iolaus nodded grimly, prodding a toppled amphora with the toe of his boot. Monsters that had a specific purpose, like guarding something or carrying out a curse, were one thing. Monsters that simply liked the taste of human flesh and knew where to find it were something else. Monsters that liked to eat people and could slaughter whole villages....

Hercules picked up a broken sarissa, examining it with a worried frown. Iolaus saw the bent tip at the end of the blade and swore. "Great, it's got armored hide too." He looked up at the overhanging trees and noticed there weren't any broken branches. "Huh. It didn't fly in here. That eliminates some possibilities."

"Why did it take all the young men?" Hercules said, half to himself. He looked at Iolaus. "That doesn't make sense."

Iolaus nodded. "It should go after the weakest first." He could see why the villagers had thought it was a lamia, but while lamia preyed exclusively on men, they really preferred to catch their victims alone. "They didn't have time to fight, so... I don't know." He circled one of the huts again, stopping abruptly as he spotted something gleaming on a broken lintel. He sat on his heels, touching it carefully, then held it up. "Herc, look." It was a scale, about the size of a dinar, with a pearly, luminescent gleam.

Hercules stepped over to him, leaning down to look. "And that looks like a lamia scale." He straightened up, planting his hands on his hips and surveying the ruined village again, his brows drawn together. The stray cow lowed. "I don't like this."

"Yeah, a giant lamia with an attitude." Except lamia hide wasn't tough enough to bend a blade. Iolaus shook his head. They would just have to figure it out when they got there. He had the scent now and he just wanted to find the damn thing. Iolaus bounced to his feet, heading for the next wrecked hut.

Now that he knew what to look for, Iolaus burrowed into the wreckage. He found several more of the loose scales rubbed off on broken rafters and smashed into the dirt. Intent on the search, he moved to the trees around the village's perimeter. Soon he spotted another scale, half buried in leaf litter between the gnarled roots. As he flicked it out of concealment, he glanced up to call for Hercules and saw the demigod was standing at his shoulder, looking down at him with an absurdly fond smile.

"What?" Iolaus demanded.

"Nothing. Just...nothing." The demigod looked away, trying to sober his expression.

Iolaus shook his head, hiding a grin. Wrapped up in the hunt, he had forgotten everything, all his worries, all the trouble of the recent past. We're both enjoying this way too much, he thought guiltily. This thing had killed a lot of people. But the monster was a straightforward goal and an intriguing puzzle; it was exactly what they needed right now to clear the air. Iolaus' expression sobered, as that thought led him right back where he didn't want to go. He sighed.

"What's wrong?" Hercules asked, a tinge of worry in his voice.

"Oh, nothing." Iolaus got to his feet, absently dusting his hand off on his pants. "Let's try this way, huh?"

***

The trail of scales led them further up the mountain, where pines, beeches, and fern groves grew densely between rocky outcrops. The wind grew cooler as the day progressed but the bright afternoon sun kept it from becoming uncomfortable. The brisk uphill walk had left Iolaus feeling fairly cheery, mostly because his clothes were finally completely dry. The dried mud on his skin was itchy, especially where it had worked its way through the lacings of his pants, but this was only a minor problem. Now if they could just find the monster.

They were moving along the base of a high ridge of rock when he stopped to look at a deer rub on a tree trunk, brushing away a tuft of fur caught on the bark. "This thing isn't much interested in meat on the hoof," he observed. "There's plenty of game up here so it's not eating people because it's hungry."

Hercules paused, planting one boot on a low rock and leaning on the heavy stick he had picked up along the way. From here they could look over a little open valley cupped in a fold of the mountain. Trees clustered on the hills all around and a stream fell in a series of miniature waterfalls down the outcrop, cutting across the deep green grass. Iolaus stepped up beside him and leaned against a tree, thinking this would make a good spot to camp after they took care of the monster.

"Could this thing have laid a false trail for us?" Hercules asked suddenly.

Iolaus thought about it, scratching the stubble on his chin. "It might. A lamia wouldn't be smart enough, but with this thing, who knows?"

"True. Well, let's--" Hercules froze, eyes narrowing.

Iolaus followed his gaze, prickles of unease already climbing up his spine. It took him a heartbeat longer than it should to see it; the creature below faded into the trees on the hill above the valley. When he saw it his jaw dropped. It was a cow. No, it's the cow, from the ruined village. Iolaus dropped a hand to his sword hilt.

The creature's outlines blurred as it shed the guise of a cow's body, the mass of it sparkling with color and growing larger as it flowed towards them.

Hercules tossed his pack aside and fell back a cautious step, eyeing the thing narrowly. Iolaus shed his cloak and pack and drew his sword, dropping the scabbard. His heart pounding with the prospect of a battle, he shifted to take up a ready stance to the demigod's right.

"At least now we know why the villagers all saw something different. It's a shapeshifter," Hercules said thoughtfully, not taking his eyes off the approaching creature.

"So you've seen one of these before?" Iolaus asked, hoping this was just one of those things Hercules had forgotten to mention.

"Actually...no."

It came to a halt, hovering above them, its fluid form solidifying into a long, heavy snake-like body covered with pearly luminescent scales with a ridge of almost delicate spines sprouting along its back. Its head was round rather than snake-shaped and it had a woman's face, white as snow, framed by a mane of ice-blue spines and fans. "I've been watching you," it said to Hercules, balancing on its coils. Its voice was female too, deep and husky. "You aren't like the others."

Iolaus exchanged a quick thoughtful look with Hercules. That must have been why it had followed them up here instead of attacking immediately, but it was strange that it didn't seem to know what a demigod was.

It added, "I don't think you'll taste very good."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Hercules said dryly, studying it. "If you want to give up now, we'll kill you quickly and it won't hurt a bit."

The creature ignored the offer. "But that one is like the others," it continued, staring at Iolaus. The way the thing was looking at him made Iolaus feel like he had slime all over his skin. Hera's monsters seemed wholesome and friendly by comparison. Its eyes were blue-green crystalline facets that bored straight through you. Iolaus felt a sudden urge to step toward it and jerked his gaze away, fixing his eyes instead on the mouth. Its red lips were disturbingly human and female but not nearly as hypnotic.

"Eyes," Hercules murmured warningly.

"I noticed," he muttered back.

Hercules raised his voice to ask it, "What are you?"

Iolaus threw him a worried glance. A general rule in monster hunting was never ask talking monsters questions you didn't already know the answers to, but in this case he supposed they had to make an exception.

It smiled. "You wouldn't understand. I come from another place, far from this world. I entered here through a portal someone carelessly left open."

"Oh, great," Iolaus said under his breath. "Portal" might mean a blue swirly doorway.

Hercules' expression hardened. He told the creature, "Actually we understand just fine."

It shifted closer to them, the head rearing up. "I came to hunt but the portal closed and I couldn't return. It doesn't matter. The hunting is good here. I think I'll stay."

"I think you made the wrong decision," Hercules said grimly.

The spines behind its head flared as it hissed, then struck. Hercules dove one way, Iolaus the other. Iolaus rolled to his feet in time to see it looming over him, its face distorted as it formed a large gaping mouth filled with fangs. He backed away rapidly but it had him cornered against the high ridge of rock and he was running out of room. Then Iolaus saw the thing's new mouth lacked the iridescent scales, leaving a white fleshy area of its throat relatively unprotected. Hah, that's it, he thought, but before he could go for it a forked tongue shot out at him. Iolaus yelped and ducked, slashing up at it with his sword.

With a yowl of pain it recoiled. Before it could reach for him again it was suddenly yanked backward, giving Iolaus some breathing room. From the startled and angry expression on the still-human portion of its face, Hercules must have grabbed it by the tail.

It turned on the demigod, suddenly sprouting arms. Iolaus yelled a warning. Hercules dodged the clawed hands that reached for him and swung his stick, catching the creature across the jaw. The shapeshifter reeled back, surprised by the unexpected strength behind the blow. Hercules followed up with another slam to the creature's head, knocking it onto its side. Iolaus saw his chance, ducked under its arm and drove the sword straight into the unprotected fleshy area in its throat.

He let go of the swordhilt, leaving the blade jammed into the wound. With a diving roll he cleared the frantic reach of its claws, coming to his feet in the wider part of the clearing away from the rocks.

Hercules joined him, looking pleased. "Looks like that--"

The creature writhed suddenly, its form blurring on the edges, then it clawed the sword free. A stream of bluish fluid sprayed from the wound but stopped almost immediately.

"--didn't do it," Iolaus finished worriedly.

They both dodged as another arm sprouted to grab for them.

Iolaus scrambled in the dirt, realizing it had forced them too close to the ridge again. He saw Hercules roll to his feet not far away and the demigod shouted, "Thermopylae!"

Iolaus bounced up and into a forward roll. He landed on his feet, back to back with Hercules, reaching up over his head. He realized almost immediately he had landed too far away; he missed the grab on the first try, losing precious instants. Then he managed to catch the demigod's wrists and they shifted smoothly into the leap. Here we go, Iolaus thought triumphantly, right before he felt Hercules' balance shift jerkily. Then Iolaus hit the ground hard, an off-balance Hercules almost landing on top of him. Iolaus yelled in alarm but the shapeshifter halted its rush in confusion, rearing back, going into a defensive coil.

"Now what?" Iolaus gasped, scrambling to his feet.

"Regroup," Hercules said, pushing him toward the rocks at the far end of the ridge.

They were nearly to the cover of the tumble of rocks before the creature realized it wasn't a trick. It uncoiled with a shriek of rage, lengthening as it dove for them.

They reached the rocks and climbed toward the crevice near the top, Iolaus feeling the loose gravel slip under his boots. He reached the narrow opening first and tumbled inside, Hercules pushing through behind him. The crevice wound all the way to the other side of the ridge, a bare crack above letting in air and daylight. Iolaus crawled toward the other end. "I missed the grab--" he started to explain.

"And my boot slipped," Hercules finished from behind him. "Sorry," he added ruefully.

Iolaus glanced back at him. "We need practice," he admitted.

Hercules nodded. "We were just lucky we...confused it."

***

The crevice ended in the side of a deep ravine behind the ridge, heavily sheltered by overhanging trees. Hercules was relieved to see it. They needed all the advantages they could get and the open ground in the valley had given the creature too much scope to use its peculiar abilities.

"We need to hit it with something really, really big," Iolaus said, scrambling out of the crevice onto the ledge.

"Uh huh." Hercules followed, studying the rocks just above them. The top of the narrow ravine wasn't far above their heads but it was obscured from above by stunted thorny trees perched along the edge and a bulwark of stones from an old rockfall, braced around several large boulders. Below their ledge the cliff fell away in sharp terraces, trees and rocks clinging to the edges. "When it follows us down here, I can start an avalanche and bury it."

"I just hope it's feeling cooperative." Iolaus jumped to catch one of the tree roots projecting from the dirt. He used it to climb agilely up the cliffside to the top, where he could crouch in the brush at the base of the tree and watch for the shapeshifter.

Hercules immediately started to scoop dirt and smaller stones out from under the largest boulder, the linchpin that was holding all the other debris in place at the top of the slope.

"Are all the monsters going to be bigger and meaner now?" Iolaus wondered, balancing on the tree roots and peering carefully through the brush for any sign of the creature.

"Early retirement is looking better," Hercules agreed grimly, carefully judging his efforts so the boulder wouldn't give way too soon.

"We could always see if that offer from the Telequor Amazons is still open," Iolaus said over his shoulder. "As long as they didn't call us 'breeders' to our faces--"

Hercules had to admit it sounded a good deal less demeaning right this moment than it had five years ago.

"Hey, here we go. Wow," Iolaus added, and Hercules glanced up. Past the sheltering canopy of leaves something dragon-like but with two extra sets of wings glided overhead. He flattened back against the rock.

After a long moment Iolaus leaned down to whisper, "It turned back into a snake and now it's just sitting up there on a hill above the ravine. It's turned itself the same color as the trees so I can hardly see it. Looks like it's settling in to wait for us."

"It wants us to come out." Hercules swore under his breath. The damn thing was just a little too cautious. "I'm going to have to go back up and get it to chase me down here. Then I can double back and start the boulders moving--"

"No," Iolaus interrupted impatiently. He was supporting himself awkwardly on the tree roots, with one knee hooked around a sapling's trunk. Their eyes were level though Iolaus was hanging sideways. "It's me it wants to eat. It won't follow you, it'll know it's a trap."

Hercules shook his head angrily. "Iolaus--"

Iolaus' chin set stubbornly. He demanded, "Herc, are we doing this or not?"

Hercules hesitated. It was too soon, he didn't want to see Iolaus risk his life now. But this is what we do. Hercules pressed his lips together, reminding himself that if the thing really had come here through one of the blue swirly doorways, then there was a good chance Iolaus had been baiting monsters far longer than it had been eating humans. And he knew, though he wasn't sure how, that right now the insult of trying to protect Iolaus from his lifelong choice to risk himself as a warrior wasn't one his friend would forgive him for easily. "We're doing it," he snapped. "I'll wait for your signal."

"Good." Iolaus started to swing up again and Hercules gave him a boost from behind to help.

***

Iolaus scrambled out of the brush and stumbled to his feet, carefully not looking toward the rise on the far edge of the clearing. The shapeshifter crouched there, its skin now a mottled green-brown that melded in with the trees and heavy brush, making it near invisible unless you knew where to look. The birdsong in this glade was ominously silent, a sure giveaway. Iolaus had scouted the terrain while watching for the creature to arrive and started off immediately at an angle to the ravine, impulsively adding a limp.

He moved slowly, trying to look pitiful and helpless and tempting. This wouldn't work with some monsters; sphinxes, in particular, disdained wounded prey, preferring opponents who could fight at their full strength. Iolaus was pretty sure the shapeshifter lacked such a highly developed sense of fair play. He could practically sense the creature's gaze boring into him. He looked around, making his eyes pass over its position without hesitating. He remembered the thing had been willing to stalk them all the way up the mountain and knew he couldn't let it lure him too far from the ravine. He slowed down even further, pushing his hair out of his eyes and looking around more urgently, as if he suspected it was near.

It moved then, uncoiling its serpentine bulk. "There you are," it said, with a low feminine laugh that still made the hackles on the back of Iolaus' neck rise.

He yelped and bolted for the ravine, hearing it hit the ground just behind him as he reached the edge and tore through the brush.

Iolaus leapt down to the ledge near Hercules' hiding place, then bounded down to the one below. A crash and a roar from above told him the shapeshifter was clawing its way through the trees after him.

He risked a glance back and saw it clung to the ledge just below the boulders. It still had the body of a snake but was now equipped with six legs, its huge claws gripping the dirt to hold it steady. Iolaus rolled his eyes. Damn the thing, it was still too close for Hercules to get above it and start the avalanche. It didn't want to go any further into the ravine and Iolaus thought he knew why; it liked to move fast over flat ground and it wanted to avoid the rocky cliffs below.

Trying to present a more tempting target, Iolaus jumped for the next ledge, faked a bad landing and sprawled awkwardly in the dirt. He twisted around, looking frantically up at it.

The big fangy mouth drawn into a rictus smile, it called down, "Keep running, little one. Fear will make you taste better."

Iolaus glared. The damn thing likes playing with food better than eating it. He had done everything but smear himself with honey. "You know, you're a lot scarier when you keep your mouth shut. I bet you got thrown out of your old world because your lines were so bad," he jeered, frustrated.

He knew he must have unintentionally hit a nerve when the shapeshifter's round white face turned livid with rage. "Uh oh," he muttered and rolled off the ledge, landing on his feet and diving for the next terrace. Above him it snarled, hunching its back, then launched itself down into the ravine.

Iolaus dodged sideways as a large clawed hand narrowly missed him, tearing loose a hail of rocks and dirt from the cliff face above. A stone caught him a hard blow, sending him staggering and he fell back against the dirt wall, shielding his head with his arms. He shook his head to clear the black spots from his vision and looked up to see the hand poised to grab him. With a desperate yell he dove under it, tumbling down to the next terrace. He slid headfirst down a rough slope, throwing himself into the brush at the base of it.

The shapeshifter landed maybe twenty paces away, eyeing him avidly. "Run some more," it said, "I like this game."

"So do I," Iolaus told it, breathing hard, his heart pounding with a dizzying combination of terror and triumph. From here he could see it was a straight shot right up the slope to the boulders at the top of the ravine. Perfect. "But it's over." Then he shouted roughly, "Now, Herc!"

***

Hercules heaved at the boulder, hearing it grind against the stone as it shifted. It gave way abruptly, tumbling down the ravine in a hail of smaller rocks, dirt, and tree trunks. Hercules followed it down, jumping to the ledge below and sliding down the slope, bracing his feet to stop himself, trying to see if the shapeshifter had been hit, if Iolaus was all right. The dust cleared and he saw the snakelike body pinned under the large boulder about halfway down the ravine. Its head twisted, its eyes blood-red now and enraged. Suddenly a clawed arm elongated up, reaching for him.

Hercules scrambled backward but the loose dirt gave way under his feet. He threw himself to the side but the hand slammed down on him, smashing him into the cliff face with stunning force. Through a haze of pain he felt himself sliding toward the edge and frantically grabbed for something, anything to stop himself.

He tumbled over a rocky outcrop and just managed to dig his fingers in as the rest of him swung out into empty space. Dazed, he looked down and saw the shapeshifter struggling below him, its claws just missing his dangling legs. If he slipped he would fall right into the creature's grip. He flexed his arms to pull himself up and gasped in shock; pain burned across his ribs and back, reaching down into his legs and up into his arms with a numbing agony.

Then Iolaus flung himself down on top of the rock Hercules was clinging to. With a desperate expression Iolaus reached down and grabbed his arm above his gauntlet. Hercules shook his head, trying to tell his friend he couldn't pull himself up. Still keeping a firm grip on him, Iolaus wriggled around dangerously near the edge, bracing his feet against the rock. He had shifted so he could use his back and legs to help him lift, but if the outcrop gave way he would have no chance of saving himself. Hercules could still hear the shapeshifter thrashing as it slowly died beneath them. He knew Iolaus wouldn't let go; it was either let Iolaus try to pull him up or take Iolaus over the side with him when his grip on the rock finally gave out. He managed to nod.

Iolaus hauled back, teeth gritted with the effort. Hercules dug his fingers into the rock, ignoring the pain as he tried desperately to help. It seemed to take forever but inch by inch Iolaus dragged him up. Finally Hercules managed to get a foothold and pushed, shouting with the effort. He collapsed on the ledge next to Iolaus. His partner struggled up, wrapped an arm around his waist and heaved Hercules further away from the edge, the demigod digging his heels in to help.

They collapsed against the side of the cliff, both gasping. There was a shriek of rage from the shapeshifter; it must have counted on them falling into its grip. Suddenly it made what had to be one last enormous effort and a clawed hand struck the rock Hercules had clung to, scoring it deeply. Both Hercules and Iolaus flinched in reaction. The serrated claws dug in and the rock gave way, crashing down into the ravine.

Hercules sank back, leaning heavily against Iolaus. "That was close," he breathed. The shapeshifter's cries gradually faded, as if that last effort had expended all its strength.

"You okay?" Iolaus asked thickly, still breathing hard.

"Yeah....Ow." Hercules took an experimental deep breath, grimacing. Everything hurt. He could tell the ribs all along his right side were broken. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...Ow." He gave up trying to move for the moment.

Iolaus didn't seem much inclined to move either. Hercules looked down at him, seeing his arms were covered with scratches and scrapes and there were leaves and twigs caught in his hair. It looked like he had a cut on his forehead. "How about you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Iolaus slumped against the demigod's chest, sounding tired. "Didn't come close."

This didn't mean much since Iolaus would have said that had the monster ripped one of his limbs off, but Hercules was willing to accept it for the moment. The shapeshifter gave one last lingering cry, then went silent. Hercules shook his head. "That thing...that thing nearly...."

"Kicked our asses," Iolaus supplied.

"Yeah." Hercules looked up and saw something in the sky above the trees, growing larger as it drew nearer. Not another shapeshifter, he thought incredulously. Please tell me that thing didn't have a friend. He squinted, then realized abruptly what it was. No, it can't be. He tightened his grip on Iolaus. "Oh no. It's Perseus."

His voice a little slurred as if he was starting to drift off, Iolaus said, "That's not funny."

"It's not a joke. It's Perseus."

Iolaus lifted his head, squinting up at the sky. He sat up, suddenly completely alert. "Oh no."

"If he sees us...." Hercules' voice went thick with horror. "He'll rescue us."

He and Iolaus exchanged a dismayed look. "We've got to get out of here," Iolaus said desperately.

Gritting his teeth, Hercules forced himself to stand, holding on to his partner for support. The pain didn't matter; he really would rather lie up here and bleed to death than be rescued by Perseus.

They made their way awkwardly along the ledge under the cover of the trees, until they could scramble down the slope between the boulders. The loose scree and pebbles made the going difficult and Hercules knew he couldn't make it much farther. "Try there." He pointed to a cleft in the stone.

It wasn't a cave so much as a sheltered area under a shelf of rock. As they ducked inside Hercules' right knee gave way suddenly and he collapsed. Iolaus tried to catch him but he slipped on the loose pebbles and they both went down, Hercules landing heavily on top. The breath knocked out of him and his side throbbing with agony from the jolt, Hercules couldn't move, even though he knew he had practically flattened his partner.

Iolaus thumped him on the shoulder and said, his voice muffled, "Herc, if Perseus finds us like this, I want to be on top."

Hercules snorted, then winced as his broken ribs stabbed him. "Sorry," he managed, carefully pushing himself up as the pain receded a little.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Iolaus asked doubtfully, sitting up as Hercules awkwardly shifted to the back of their shelter.

"Yeah, it's just...I need to catch my breath. And don't say anything funny." Trying to breathe shallowly, Hercules settled down onto his side. Lying down like this was definitely better, he decided. He wiped the sweat and dirt off his forehead and looked at his partner. From this angle he could see there was a bleeding scrape on Iolaus' temple, a dark mottled bruise already forming around it. "You got hit on the head?"

"Oh, it's fine." Iolaus wiped absently at the blood, then sucked in his breath. He wavered for a moment, his eyes going glassy.

"Iolaus?"

"Huh? I'm just woozy." Iolaus blinked, then looked around vaguely. "It's going to get cold down here later. I'll go back up and get our stuff."

Hercules watched him worriedly. "Wait, what about Perseus?"

"Oh, yeah." Iolaus obviously didn't want to admit he had forgotten about the other demigod. "I'll be careful, he won't see me."

Hercules just managed to grab Iolaus' vest and keep him from banging his head on the overhang as he started to stand up. "Why don't you wait a while, give him time to get out of the area?" he said persuasively.

"Well, maybe." Iolaus reluctantly settled back down. He sat there a moment, wavering back and forth a little, then blinked in surprise and folded over.

Hercules caught him as he slumped, easing him down to ground. He checked him anxiously, pushing back the tangled mane of hair to look at the gash on his temple. Iolaus muttered irritably and pushed his hand away without waking. Hercules sat back in relief. Here they were, lying in the dirt, suffering exhaustion and shock, with Iolaus unconscious and bleeding from the head, while Perseus flew off to take credit for killing the monster. Everything's back to normal, the demigod thought, snorted, and winced again.

***

Iolaus woke slowly, reluctantly. His head hurt with a dull, pounding ache and the rest of him was cold and stiff. He wasn't quite sure what had happened, though he felt certain the danger had passed. From the fresh scent of the air and the birdsong he knew it was early morning. He lay curled on his side on cool hard-packed earth, his back pressed against something warm and breathing -- Hercules. He could also tell from the scent it really was Hercules, too; Dahak wasn't good on details anyway and it had never been able to get smells right. That's a relief, he thought, the need to return to full consciousness receding a little.

"Hey," Hercules said, and Iolaus felt a hand ruffle his hair gently. "You awake?"

"Umm, yeah."

"I've.... Well, there's a problem."

"Hmmm?"

"I can't stand up," Hercules said matter-of-factly.

"Huh?" Iolaus blinked, suddenly wide awake. He remembered the shapeshifter almost using both of them as chew toys. He pushed himself up on his elbow, ignoring the sharp pains in various places as his abused body responded to the abrupt movement and twisted around to look worriedly at Hercules. "What?"

Hercules winced again as he shifted slightly. He was still stretched out on the ground, propped up against the earthen wall of their shelter. "I woke up a little while ago and thought I'd go look for the supplies, but...." He shook his head.

Iolaus sat up, shoving his hair out of his eyes. "Where does it hurt?"

"It's not...ow." Hercules touched his right side. "Here," he said and admitted, "I've got some broken ribs."

Iolaus carefully pulled Hercules' vest and shirt open and sucked in a startled breath at what he saw. There was a large dark bruise over the demigod's right side. Hercules could be wounded just like an ordinary mortal but he healed far more quickly. Any damage the shapeshifter might have managed to inflict should be nearly gone by now. And that thing just wasn't big enough to do this. He's taken swats from giants three times that size without.... But the shapeshifter hadn't been from this world. That must make a difference.

Hercules looked at the bruise. "Ouch. Doesn't look too good," he conceded reluctantly. "I was hoping it would be better by now."

"Yeah." Iolaus thought rapidly. He would have to make a travois to get Hercules down the mountain. First he needed to find their supplies and get the stock of healing herbs the demigod kept, or the jolting of the trip down was going to be agony for him. "I'll go get the packs."

Iolaus turned, scrambling to his feet, only to thump back to the ground. Shaking his head, he twisted around to see what he had tripped over. To his astonishment, he saw Hercules' hand was clamped firmly around his right ankle. "Herc! Stop messing around and let go, I need to--"

"You need to listen to me," Hercules said, patiently insistent.

Iolaus wriggled into a sitting position, trying to pull his ankle free. "We don't have time for this," he said angrily. "You know it's going to take me all day to get you down the mountain then--"

Hercules nodded calmly. "That's why you need to listen to me."

"I need to get you some help--"

"It won't take long."

Iolaus stared at him, then pressed his lips together. Hercules' injuries meant that violence was out of the question. He gestured in frustration. "I can't believe you're doing this."

"I need to explain to you about the other Iolaus," Hercules said patiently.

"Son of a Bacchae." Iolaus ran a hand through his hair, looking away. Hercules wouldn't give up. Iolaus could break down and shout at him all he wanted and Hercules would look hurt, sulk for two heartbeats, and then come back for another round. Hercules couldn't give up. In the combination of mortal and god, the giving-up part had somehow gotten dropped out of the mix. And you should know, he thought, because it's the only reason you're sitting here now. Still, he tried, "I told you, you don't have to explain anything to me."

"Yes, I do." A hand under his chin turned his head back to face the other man. Unconsciously Iolaus ducked his head, hiding behind his hair, but Hercules leaned down to foil the attempt to avoid his gaze. Almost against his will, Iolaus found himself meeting the demigod's eyes. Hercules said deliberately, "I didn't open the doorway for myself. I didn't go there to look for him."

Iolaus pulled away and took a sharp breath. "All right." It shouldn't matter, but it did.

Hercules sat back, still watching him worriedly. After a moment, he said, "I found a blue swirly doorway. I don't know how long it was open; it might have been the one the shapeshifter used to get here. But some villagers had gotten pulled into it and I went in after them." He told the story briefly. "After we got back here, I showed him around a little. He didn't know how to live in the real world, he'd been locked up in that palace most of his life--"

"I know." Iolaus drew his hand over his face, rubbed his eyes. He didn't want to think about the sheer insanity of the Sovereign's world. Even while trapped there the place had felt as unreal as an elaborate set on the stage of an Athenian theater. It had seemed so incomplete he had kept expecting to turn a corner and come to a drop-off into empty space; he was surprised the other version of him had lasted a week in the real world.

"After a while he decided it was time to make his own way and he left." Hercules hesitated, as if debating how much more to say, his face pensive and regretful. "That was really for the best. I didn't realize how hard it would be. I already had trouble believing that you were really gone -- part of me kept expecting to turn around and see you. And then when I kept turning around and seeing you...." Then he shook his head a little and added, "It was hard on him too. He's still afraid of me."

Iolaus blinked in surprise. Sometimes people were nervous or suspicious of Hercules, especially if they had had bad experiences with gods or demigods. But once they spent any time around him, they warmed right up. "Even after you rescued him?"

Hercules shrugged. "He couldn't help looking at me and thinking of the Sovereign, any more than I could help looking at him and thinking of you. And then things I'd say would frighten him. Things that seemed perfectly innocuous to me."

Iolaus lifted a brow. "Things like what?" There were some subjects that Hercules could be naive about.

"'It looks like rain today.'"

Iolaus stared at the blue morning sky visible past the rocky overhang, wondering if Hercules had gotten a blow to the head too. "No it doesn't."

"No, I mean that's one of the things that worried him once."

"Oh." Iolaus nodded. "I see what you mean."

"It doesn't give you much to work with."

"Yeah. Kind of awkward." Iolaus took a deep breath. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh." Hercules' face lost that absent echo of pain. He shook his head slightly, looking away with a wry half-smile. "You're not going to believe this."

"Try me."

"I forgot about it." He shook his head hastily at Iolaus' incredulous expression. "Not forgot...I just didn't think about it. In Egypt I wasn't thinking about anything that had happened here in the last few months. It didn't occur to me until the day we got back that you didn't know, then....It just didn't seem like the right time."

Iolaus rested his chin in his hand. Hercules would never admit that this was certainly one thing he had inherited from Zeus. It was typical of that whole "don't go to Alturia because the food is bad" speech Zeus had given them when the actual problem was a crazed half-brother who had been turned into a minotaur. Except of course that Hercules wouldn't lie, he would just stare at you blankly and hope that somehow you would guess what he was unable to tell you.

Hercules looked away again. "Bringing him here...I'm still not sure if it was the right thing to do for him. Maybe it was a little selfish. Helping him find his way here gave me something to think about, but.... It seemed like the right choice at the time and...I couldn't face failing both of you."

"Failing both--" Iolaus stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"I failed you, Iolaus. And both of us need to admit that," Hercules said gravely.

"You didn't--"

"I did. Iolaus-- I told you I wasn't in the best of shape to make decisions when it came to your monument. I didn't handle all this very well. I didn't handle it at all."

Iolaus shifted uncomfortably. "You're a half god. Gods aren't meant to feel grief, or pain, or get over things that happen to them. At least not our gods."

"That's not much of an excuse--" Hercules' face went still, then he winced. "Ow."

"What?" Iolaus studied him anxiously.

The demigod touched his side gingerly. "This is really starting to smart."

"Look, we'll talk about this later, okay? We need to get you off this damn mountain."

"All right," Hercules agreed reluctantly.

Iolaus pushed to his feet and ducked out of their shelter. At least it was a clear morning, the sky blue and cloudless. He paused to look down the ravine. The shapeshifter's body had turned gray and rubbery, like a dead squid. He frowned, seeing something wrong with the outline of it, then swore in annoyance. Perseus had cut the creature's head off and taken it away as a trophy. What does he do with something like that? Iolaus wondered, climbing back up the rocks to the top of the ravine. Nail it up on the wall so it can look at him with those eyes? Yech.

He climbed back over the ridge and retrieved his sword, still lying in the dirt where the shapeshifter had flung it. The blue blood had dried on the blade and turned a flaky gray. He scraped it off on the grass and was gathering up their supplies when he spotted movement at the far end of the little valley. He shaded his eyes. It was two men, leading a mule. "What the...." he muttered.

They waved when they saw him and Iolaus ran across the field to meet them. As he got closer he saw with relief that it was two of the villagers, Gelon the headman and Anicles.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Perseus stopped at the camp to say you were dead," Gelon explained, leaning on his staff. The mule snorted and stretched his nose toward Iolaus, trying to search him for treats. "But he didn't bring your bodies back. We thought that was a bit odd. We thought maybe he meant for us to go get you, but he wasn't real clear on it."

"Couldn't see the King of Corinth or King Pheidon being real keen on us leaving you up here," Anicles put in. He was still looking at Iolaus suspiciously, but apparently he looked at everybody like that. "Besides, we heard you were dead before, then you turned up here."

Iolaus nodded. "Good thinking."

***

"Oh, great. Welcome to my nightmare." Armageddon Now

Part V

A battered wagon drawn by two somewhat elderly horses drew up in from of Asclepius' temple just as the sun was setting. The temple lay in a clearing in the outskirts of Epidaurus, surrounded by wild gardens of flowering bushes and large shade trees. Vines climbed the yellowed plaster walls and the wide pillared portico and there was a reflecting pool at the base of the steps. There were still a few townspeople coming and going, even this late in the evening.

The wagon was driven by an equally battered old man who reined in the horses and favored the temple with a suspicious glare. The white-robed temple acolytes who were enjoying the evening breeze on the portico could see there was a wounded man lying in the back and another warrior crouching next to him.

One of the acolytes hurried down to the wagon. He looked into the back to see the wounded man lay unconscious on a makeshift stretcher, wrapped in blankets and cushioned from the jolts of the trip by pine boughs. He nodded approval of these sensible arrangements and started to ask, "How is he injured...." The young man paused. The wounded man's face was familiar. Then he realized where he had seen it before. Startled, he stared up at the other warrior who was kneeling in the wagonbed, shouldering a couple of rough leather packs. The man was covered with dried mud and grime, his hair so dirty it was just barely possible to tell it was blond. The bewildered acolyte began, "But this is--"

"Is Asclepius' here?" Iolaus interrupted brusquely, glancing at him.

The man nodded and turned, gesturing urgently toward the other acolytes waiting on the portico.

Iolaus pushed to his feet and leapt down from the wagon bed. There were too many people, petty bandit chiefs to minor warlords to Kings who might be drawn by news of Hercules injured and helpless, so Iolaus had wanted to keep this as quiet as possible. Fortunately Gelon and Anicles were both laconic and cagey and disinclined to talk to anybody about anything. With their help Iolaus had put together a travois for Hercules and they had used the mule to pull it down the mountain, carrying it over the difficult parts. They had made the journey in much better time than Iolaus would have managed alone. The worrisome part was that he wasn't sure if the pain-killing herbs had worked or not; by the time they had gotten back to the villagers' temporary camp, Hercules wasn't conscious and Iolaus couldn't wake him up.

From there Anicles had commandeered a wagon from a cousin down the valley. Leaving Gelon to take care of the other villagers, Anicles and Iolaus and travelled through the night to get Hercules to Epidaurus.

More acolytes came to carefully lift Hercules' stretcher out of the wagonbed. Iolaus turned back to Anicles, sitting up on the driver's bench. "Thanks for everything," he said, torn between wanting to stay within reach of Hercules and the need to thank the man for all his help.

Anicles nodded and spat into the dirt. "Good luck."

Iolaus waved and hurried up the steps into the temple's cella. Only a few lamps had been lit in the twilight and the flickering shadows revealed fragments of the wall paintings showing Asclepius' daughters and his symbols of pine cones and laurel. Carvings of snakes twined around the central pillars. One hand on his swordhilt to steady it, Iolaus kept his eyes on the stretcher as the acolytes carried it toward the entrance to the temple's inner chambers.

"Hey--"

Iolaus felt a tingle against his bare arm, felt the poof of displaced air as something insubstantial became substantial. He reacted without conscious thought, shouting wordlessly half in warning to Hercules and half in battle cry as he threw himself into a sideways roll, landing on his feet with his sword drawn.

The figure that had appeared next to him in a flash of godly power reeled back against a column, clutching its heart. "Damn, Iolaus, watch it! I'm not a young man, you know!"

"Asclepius." Iolaus took a deep breath, feeling his own heart pound. "Sorry." He straightened out of his fighter's crouch, sheathing his sword but still watching the new arrival warily. "You're a god now. I didn't know that."

Asclepius straightened his robe and tunic. He had been an old man the first time Iolaus had seen him at the battle of Troy and he was an old man now, with gray white hair that fell past his shoulders and the fine lines of study and strain around his blue eyes. "Well, wait a week, I'll get demoted again," he snapped.

Iolaus heard Hercules groan and hurried to the stretcher. The acolytes had set it down on a low plinth near the altar and the demigod was stirring restlessly. Iolaus swore under his breath, realizing Hercules must have heard him yell even through the haze of the pain-killing herbs and was trying to respond. He took Hercules' hand and knelt by the stretcher, anxiously brushing the hair back from the demigod's forehead. "Hey, hey, it's all right, it's okay, I'm right here."

Hercules quieted and Asclepius examined him quickly, his brow creased as he looked at the bruising on the demigod's side. "When did this happen?"

"About a day ago."

The crease in the god's brow deepened. "Giants?"

Iolaus shook his head. "Something new. A shapeshifter. At first he seemed all right, then he just kept getting worse."

"Hmm. Bleeding inside. Anybody else would have the sense to be dead by now." Asclepius straightened up and gestured to the acolytes. "Take him in the back, boys."

***

In the bustle of getting Hercules to one of the inner chambers, a lesser priest tried to send Iolaus away. Iolaus almost couldn't blame him; after days of mud, fighting and travel and no time for personal hygiene, the word "grubby" didn't even begin to cover it. But he still wasn't leaving.

They carried Hercules to a bare high-ceilinged room that would be well lit during the day by a row of window slits all along the upper part of the outer wall. An acolyte hurried around, lighting the bronze lampstands in the corners and then building a fire in the circular hearth. There was no furniture except a stone basin in the floor for water and the low pallet for the demigod.

Iolaus dumped their packs in the corner and pulled his sword off his belt, but didn't set it aside with the rest of their gear. Holding the scabbarded weapon, he planted himself against the wall near the doorway. Priests, priestesses and acolytes came and went, carrying ewers of water and herbs and cloths. The bareness of the room, the lack of any decoration or softness, made his nerves jump, though he knew it was just to make it easier to clean. It looked too much like a place used to prepare corpses for burial.

The priest who wanted Iolaus gone went to speak to Asclepius, who was standing to the side overseeing the bustle of preparations. The god shrugged and replied, "It's your funeral. If Hercules wakes up crazy, I'm sure as Tartarus not hanging around to deal with him."

But after that Iolaus had to handle the well-meaning temple workers who wanted to send him off for a bath, for a meal, or because they were convinced that under the dirt he had to be wounded somewhere. He dealt with it all as patiently as his jumping nerves would allow and waited and watched and forced himself not to ask questions.

The rest of the temple was quiet, the other supplicants having left for the day or settled down in the dormitories on the opposite side of the building. Iolaus was keeping one eye on the corridor anyway and caught sight of a warrior trying to peer into the room. The tattered leather armor the man wore made him look like a mercenary; he had a neat bandage around his upper arm, which gave him a reason for being at the temple, but not for sneaking around in the back corridors.

Iolaus blocked his way, still casually holding his scabbarded sword. He sauntered forward until the man fell back a step. "You're in the wrong place," Iolaus told him.

The warrior jerked his head toward the room and demanded, "Who's that? Somebody important?"

"It's not your business." Iolaus kept moving, forcing the man to back warily down the hall to stay out of gutting range.

"Maybe I should make it my business," the warrior sneered. When Iolaus failed to be impressed by this he squinted at him and said suspiciously, "I know you."

"Good for you." They were out in the cella now, full of shadows from the flickering torchlight. The sun had set and the night air was cool, the crickets singing outside the open portico of the temple. The sacred snakes were gathered around the candles on the altar for warmth and hissed warningly at the intrusion.

As Iolaus stepped into the light from a hanging lamp the man's eyes widened a little with recognition. "But you're dead."

Iolaus didn't remember the guy but he had seen and fought more mercenaries than he could count. He gave him a feral grin. "Then maybe you better start running now."

The warrior stared at him a moment, then backed another few steps, turned and walked swiftly out of the temple. Why couldn't this happen in Corinth where we've got friends, Iolaus thought grimly, watching to make sure the man left. He turned back, trying to decide if he should send a message to Iphicles and Jason now or wait until Asclepius told him something. It would take three days for a messenger to reach either man and by then.... Iolaus took a sharp breath.

As he reached the chamber again Asclepius was standing in the doorway, shouting down the hall. "Will you morons stop chanting? I'm right here!"

"Asclepius--" Iolaus began.

"That's the problem with being a god; the idiots are chanting to summon me when I'm in the next room." Asclepius waved his arms in frustration and shouted, "Stop the chanting!"

"Asclepius! Is Hercules going to be all right?" Iolaus demanded.

The god finally looked at him. His godly aura wasn't as obvious in the dim candlelight as it had been out in the cella and he looked mortal. "I'm going to have to stop the bleeding."

"If he's bleeding inside, how--" Iolaus stared at him. "You're going to cut him open?" It was only forbidden to cut up dead bodies, but the idea still made Iolaus a little ill.

"I do it all the time," the god said with a negligent wave as he turned back into the chamber, "Don't worry."

"Don't worry," Iolaus muttered, following. "I've heard that before." A steaming cauldron of water had been added to the hearth and the preparations of the other healers seemed even more frantic. "But you're a god, can't you use magic or something?"

"That's not how it works. And stay back! You're going to pollute the room."

"Fine." Iolaus retreated back to the doorway. "Just help him," he added under his breath.

***

Sometime later Iolaus sat on the cold marble tile, dozing off and on as he waited. Asclepius had said the surgery had come off without a hitch but Hercules still hadn't woken. The other priests and healers had cleared out, though one or two of them came back at frequent intervals to check on the demigod. Iolaus could tell at least that Hercules didn't seem to have a fever and he told himself the demigod was much less pale, though in the candlelight it was hard to tell.

Iolaus snapped back to full awareness when Asclepius stepped into the room and leaned over him, saying, "Iolaus, listen to me. I've been called to Olympus. To make a long story short I may get killed again."

Iolaus sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, I know how that goes."

The god hesitated, pressing his lips together. "And.... Well, to tell the truth, there's something..."

Iolaus stared up at him expectantly. Asclepius stared back. Oh, that's right, he's Hercules' cousin. Iolaus sighed. "Just tell me, please?" It was probably why Asclepius had always been such a great healer; he just wanted to avoid giving his patients bad news.

Asclepius scratched his head. "The person who's supposed to protect my temples if I get killed...."

Oh, no. Iolaus sighed in resignation. "Is Hercules. Look, just tell Zeus what happened, that Hercules needs your help."

Asclepius snorted, half in amusement, half in derision. "I'm not going to beg that megalomaniac." The god clapped him on the shoulder. "See you when I get back. Or not."

Asclepius strode off briskly, not looking much like somebody who was heading off to a possible death sentence on Olympus. But then, he had never been much like any other god. Or demigod or mortal, for that matter. "Don't be an idiot!" Iolaus called after him angrily. The god made a rude gesture at him without bothering to look back.

"Great," Iolaus muttered. He climbed to his feet and went to sit next to Hercules' pallet. The demigod seemed far too still, though he was breathing easily enough. The hollows under Hercules' eyes looked bruised. Iolaus told himself there were more good healers in this one building than in the rest of this half of Greece and there was every reason to expect Hercules' own strength to finish his recovery. I hope, he thought.

***

Iolaus didn't remember falling asleep.

He was in the woods on the hills above the farm. It was raining lightly and the clouds had a thunderstorm look, that strange sullen gray that was neither light enough for day nor dark enough for night. The colors of everything seemed muted, but maybe that was the rain. He was standing in the clearing where Hercules had buried him, sheltered by the heavy branches of the trees. There was no marker this time. He circled the spot thoughtfully, scuffed a heel in the mud. The rain was making the recently disturbed dirt sink, telling him something about the right size had been put under the ground recently.

So if that's different.... Iolaus started down the hill through the trees, meaning to try to get a view of the farm. After only a few steps he found himself standing still, leaning against the trunk of a pine. He had to force his feet to move, staggered another couple of steps and fetched up against the next tree. Hanging on to it, Iolaus bit his lip, studying the problem. It was obvious something wanted to keep him up here, which made it all the more imperative that he keep going.

He forced himself forward, staggering against the invisible pull, dragging himself along from tree to tree until he reached the lower hillside. He collapsed on the edge of a steep slope, breathing hard, sweat trickling down his chest as if he had just climbed a mountain. He couldn't stop here; the trees still blocked his view of the house.

All right, let's do it the hard way. He took a deep breath and launched himself down the slope. He rolled down, crashing through the thorny bushes to land hard at the bottom. He struggled to his feet, wincing at the scratches on his arms, and stared across the field.

The farm looked empty and dead under the heavy gray sky. The terrible force that had tried to keep him away seemed spent, and he started toward the buildings unimpeded. The wind rose and fell, stirring the tall grass, but the silence between gusts was weirdly intent, as if little noises that should be there were missing. Up until now Iolaus had just been determined to get here; now he wasn't so sure that was a good idea.

As he got closer he saw the barn doors stood open and there was no flicker of candlelight from inside the house. Some of the shutters on the windows had come open and the curtains blew out into the rain. Something's not right. Iolaus just stood there. He had lost all desire to go into the house. He knew he would see something terrible inside -- terrible but unreal? This has happened before. He backed away.

A faint sound behind him and he spun around. "Hercules?"

Nothing. Just the fields, the winter dead grass, the dark forest clustered forbiddingly on the hills. He could have sworn he had heard Hercules. I thought he changed his mind and came back for me. Iolaus pressed his lips together, trying to sort the memories from the dream-distorted phantasms. That already happened, he told himself firmly. He couldn't remember exactly when or how, but he knew it had happened. And he knew there had been something behind him, knew it with the same certainty that he knew.... Well, he wasn't certain he knew anything right now, except for one fact. Angry, he shouted, "You're Dahak, this is just a memory, and I'm not dead!"

He realized a heartbeat later that antagonizing it was probably a bad idea.

The world shifted around him and he was back on the hill, except the sky was dark, rain was pouring down and the wind staggered him. He sensed something behind him again but as he twisted to look it caught him by the hair. He tried to wrench away but it yanked him off his feet. He clawed at it, kicked furiously, but it dragged him across the clearing, keeping him off balance; it had too good a grip on him, its hand was dug in close to his scalp and he couldn't rip free. It flung him down on his knees, on the edge of an open pit in the mud. He realized it was the spot where his grave had been and tried to scramble away. It hauled him back, wrenching his head up. It snarled, "Is that what you think?"

You and your big mouth, Iolaus thought, the pain making his eyes water. But something told him giving in to it on any point was a mistake. You got yourself into this, he reminded himself. "Yes," he said through gritted teeth.

It shoved him into the pit. He tumbled down what felt like a long distance, landing in thick soupy mud. He flailed, struggling to stay on top but it pulled him under, his last desperate, terrified breath smothered in mud--

"Iolaus?"

"Huh?" Iolaus sat bolt upright, looking around at the quiet chamber, dizzied by the abrupt transition. Air. He took a deep, relieved breath. The candles had guttered in the sconces and the first glow of gray daylight was visible through the window slits. He had fallen asleep at the foot of the pallet, one hand wrapped around his sheathed sword. The scratches and scrapes on his arms, the ache of bruises was disorienting, but they were from leading the shapeshifter down the ravine, not falling through the thorny bushes on the hill. He rubbed his head where Dahak had dragged him by the hair, but the pain was just a remnant of the dream, fading rapidly. So it was a dream. But I would've sworn I heard--

"Iolaus?"

He twisted around to see Hercules shift restlessly. "Herc?" He scrambled up to kneel at the demigod's side. "You're awake?"

"Where are we?" Hercules looked blearily up at him.

"Epidaurus." Nearly dizzy with relief, Iolaus leaned against the pallet, propping himself up on his elbow.

"That's where I wanted to go." Hercules rested his hand on Iolaus' arm, squeezed gently as if checking to make sure he was really there, and gave him a somewhat dopey smile.

Iolaus grinned back. "Yeah, you always get your way, no matter what you have to do."

"Uh huh." Hercules tried to shift and winced in surprise. "Ow."

"Careful, you're all banged up."

"I remember." He touched his side carefully, his fingers finding the new raw wound under the edge of the blanket. He frowned. "Did I get stabbed?"

"No, that's where Asclepius cut you open. He said you were bleeding inside."

Hercules' brows lifted. "You're kidding." He raised the blanket to study the new wound, neatly stitched up. It looked like a very precise sword cut. "You're not kidding."

"You should have seen him do it."

The demigod grimaced. "I'll pass."

Iolaus waited until Hercules drifted off to sleep again, then went to find the head priest-healer.

There was a commotion in the cella and Iolaus approached it cautiously. It was Asclepius, returned and receiving relieved greetings from his priests and the other temple workers. Iolaus eyed him a moment, trying to decide what was different. Then he realized the aura of godly power was gone. Asclepius' robes were rough tan cotton now, the hem dusty from walking along the roads. He didn't look any older, but his face was more grizzled and his beard needed to be trimmed. Iolaus waited until the excitement had died down a little then stepped forward to say, "Hercules is awake."

***

Hercules slept on and off throughout the morning. The healers confirmed that the demigod was recovering rapidly, and when Iolaus was sure of this for himself he went to the temple baths and soaked in the hot basin for an hour, enjoying the luxury of being able to clean all his cuts and scrapes and let the heat take the ache out of the bruises. The temple laundry worker confiscated his grimy leathers while he was in the pool but was willing to loan him a shirt and a pair of pants to wear in the meantime. They were a bad fit but by rolling up the sleeves and using his own belt to keep the pants up, he made do.

He checked on Hercules to make sure the demigod was still resting comfortably, then went to find Asclepius.

The ex-god was in a sanctuary toward the back of the temple, sitting on the steps up to the small altar, writing on a tablet. Scrolls and scroll cases lay piled and stacked around him.

Asclepius acknowledged his entrance with a lifted brow but without comment. Iolaus leaned in the doorway for a while, then finally said, "Hercules said you interpret dreams here."

Asclepius nodded. "We do."

"What does that have to do with healing?"

"Sometimes dreams are trying to tell us something we need to know."

"I thought dreams were sent by Morpheus in case the gods wanted to torture us."

Asclepius snorted wryly. "You used to be so sweet-natured when you were a boy, what did Hercules do to you?" He shook his head. "Most dreams come from your own mind."

Iolaus considered that for a long moment. "What if you already know the thing the dreams are telling you but they keep telling you anyway?"

"Then maybe you don't know as much as you think you do." Asclepius set the scrolls aside and stood. He moved like an old man now too, as if his joints ached. He went to one of the carved chests that stood against the wall, groaning as he leaned down to open it. After some shuffling and clinking of pottery containers, he lifted out a little blue glass vial. "Come here. This is what I give people who need help with dreams."

Iolaus' lip curled. "Morpheus' dream powder? No thanks."

Asclepius shook his head, putting one hand to his back as he straightened up. "If you're going to stay with Hercules, then you're going to have to get over this."

Iolaus stiffened. "Get over what?"

"Come on, Iolaus, it's me. I got two divine powers, healing and teaching. I'm harmless except to the patriarchal status quo up there on Olympus. And you were the one who started this conversation. So come over here."

Iolaus pushed off the wall and reluctantly crossed the room. "I thought mortals were supposed to fear the gods," he said, just to be difficult.

"Yeah, whatever." Asclepius held up the vial, tilting it so the contents caught the light. "This isn't Morpheus' dream powder. It doesn't open the dream world, it'll just clarify any dreams you have, let you see what they're really trying to tell you. It's made of crushed beetles and--"

"You drink it in wine, on an empty stomach," Iolaus finished. "I've seen it before."

Asclepius frowned. "Where?"

"Egypt."

"Ah. That explains that." He pointed at the barely visible scar on Iolaus' chest. There was a long moment of silence while Asclepius waited for further explanation and Iolaus refrained from supplying it. Asclepius finally sighed. "So you want to use this or what?"

Iolaus hesitated, then took the vial. "I'll think about it."

***

It was evening and they had moved into one of the temple's guestrooms, which was far less bare and forbidding than the healing room. It had wall paintings, rugs, a real bed, and windows that looked out on the garden.

Iolaus sat on the fur rug in front of the hearth, cleaning gray shapeshifter goo out of his sword hilt and sharpening the blade. When he had gotten the sword as clean as possible he set it aside and stared at the fire. Well, he asked himself, are you going to do this or not?

He had already taken out the little vial several times during the day to look at it. This time he pulled the cork out and rolled a little of the powder across his palm, seeing the wings and legs of the crushed scarab beetles. It did look like the same stuff Kheper had made for his various spells. The powder caught the firelight and threw back a metallic gleam edged with green and red.

Hercules was sitting on the bed, poking desultorily at a bowl of very thin gruel. He dropped his spoon back in the bowl with a disgusted grunt. "That's awful."

"That's all people who just got their guts rearranged can eat," Iolaus told him.

The demigod looked hopefully around the room. "What did you have?"

"I didn't have dinner. I was thinking I might try this stuff."

"What?" Hercules gathered the blanket around him and shifted gingerly from the bed to the fur rug. The wound in his side already looked less raw; it would probably be mostly healed by tomorrow. He leaned over to look at the powder on Iolaus' palm and his brows drew together. "Asclepius gave you that?"

Iolaus nodded.

"Well," Hercules said after a moment. "It worked for me."

Iolaus looked at him with a brow lifted and they shared a grin.

Hercules added, "When Kheper had me do it there was a candle too."

Iolaus asked, deadpan, "You had to drink a candle?"

"Uh huh," Hercules agreed. "Tasted terrible."

Iolaus looked at the vial again, turning it so the contents caught the firelight. "Asclepius didn't give me one."

Hercules smiled faintly. "Well, this was Kheper, so who knows what the candle was actually for."

Well, it's not going to get easier. Iolaus took a deep breath and picked up the goblet of wine he had poured earlier. He dumped the vial into it. "Here goes," he muttered. He drained the goblet, then licked the last of the powder residue off his palm. It didn't taste particularly vile but he could feel the sharp edges of the not-too-finely crushed beetle carapaces tickling his throat. "Ack, it's scratchy."

"Better lie down," Hercules advised, watching him thoughtfully. "It works fas--"

***

Iolaus walked along a road, empty and silent, that curved away into nothingness across a limitless, barren desert plain. It was night but there was no darkness. Light came from everywhere and nowhere, and there were stars and a yellow crescent moon that hung strangely large in the sky, its horns pointing upward. In the distance cliffs soared to an impossible height.

There was suddenly something on the road, about twenty paces ahead.

Iolaus froze, staring. It looked like a human boy, maybe about fifteen or a little older. He waited for it to change into something horrible, but it didn't. He advanced cautiously, stopping a short distance away. He had been dodging demons so long it took him a long moment to remember what to do when you actually wanted to catch something's attention. "Hello?" he said tentatively.

The boy flinched, he hadn't heard him approach. He stared at Iolaus then said, "Hello."

They stood there in silence a moment. Iolaus couldn't believe he was looking at another human. Or at least at something that had been human. He still wouldn't have been surprised to see it turn into a demon. The boy's hair was clipped close to the scalp, as if to fit comfortably under a helmet, and his skin had the dark tone of a desert country. Sumeria, Iolaus thought warily, but somehow he didn't think so. His clothes were unfamiliar too, a white kilt with a short saffron robe over it. The boy finally said, "I'm not used to being alone."

"Me neither," Iolaus agreed. He was surprised he remembered how to talk. Having a conversation seemed like an esoteric skill, something he had heard about once but never done himself. The other person talks and you answer, he thought. That seemed simple enough.

The boy looked around at the vast night, and said worriedly, "I don't think I'm supposed to be here."

It really is a kid, Iolaus thought, still not quite daring to move closer. "What happened to you?" It must have been a mistake; the boy didn't look like the type to end up here. Oh, be honest. You don't care if he killed his whole family with a sickle, as long as he'll talk to you.

The boy looked thoughtful, as if trying to remember. He said slowly, "I was in the garden near my rooms, and someone hit me from behind. It must have been Wahankh. He said he wanted to speak to me in private, and he was the only one standing behind me."

"You were murdered? That's terrible." At least I don't have to tell him he's dead, Iolaus thought in relief.

The boy felt the back of his head experimentally. "The wounds go away?"

"Yeah. Mine's not there either."

"How did you get here? Did you die in battle?" He added wistfully, "I never got to be in a battle."

"It's not as much fun as it looks," Iolaus told him, trying to pretend he hadn't heard the first question. He stiffened suddenly. In the dark/light air just off the road, something shadowy was solidifying. "Look out," he snapped, stepping up to the boy's side.

The boy looked and hissed, "A demon!"

Whatever it was, it was big and had lots of teeth and claws. It lunged for them and Iolaus pushed the kid out of the way. He dived away from a swipe, scooping up a rock as he rolled to his feet. "Duck!" he yelled and the boy hit the ground. He darted forward to make sure the creature focused on him, and when it lunged for him he slung the rock, hitting it straight in the chest. It wasn't a persistent demon; the ones that travelled alone seldom were, and after a few more rocks the thing finally moved away, growling in disappointment.

"That was great," the kid said enthusiastically as he stood up from the drift where he had taken cover.

"I've had a lot of practice," Iolaus admitted, looking at the slash on his arm. It hurt but didn't bleed, and he knew it would go away in a little while. He had gotten badly mauled several times early on, but he had gotten the hang of fighting the things now.

"You look strange to me." The boy reached over and curiously touched Iolaus' hair, flicking one of the blond curls. "I think Amen-Re must have sent you to watch over me while I'm here."

I wish, Iolaus thought glumly. Being here for a good reason would make all the difference. "I don't think so. I've never heard of Amen-Re. Is he a king or something?"

"He's a god." The kid flung his arms in the preternaturally still air. "The greatest of all gods."

"I don't do too well with gods." Time to change the subject. "Come on, if we stay still too long more of those things will show up." Iolaus looked around, getting his bearings. The landscape had done one of its periodic shifts, but he had figured out that it always shifted in the same ways. He saw the fork in the road ahead and nodded to himself, reoriented now. "We need to go to the right."

The boy pointed down the other path. "What's down there?"

Iolaus shrugged. "Nothing good. Just a big fiery pit with even bigger monsters on the other side."

"How do you know?"

"I went down there."

The boy blinked. "Oh."

As they walked Iolaus felt his brain start to work again. He felt more alive right now than he had felt in...however long. If there were other people here, and it was only a matter of being persistent enough to find them....

The boy paused, looking up at the sky. "Did you hear something?"

Iolaus listened for a moment. "No." Still, he pivoted slowly, looking for movement. The worst monsters usually hung off the path, or waited at deadends for you to come to them, though the roving ones weren't any fun to deal with either. As he scanned the horizon, he saw another one of those pointed pillars, carved with the unreadable picture writing. "Hey, we should go over to that thing and see if you can read the--" He looked around. The boy was gone.

Iolaus spun around, his first fear that something terrible had crept up on them and snatched the boy in his instant of inattention. But there was nothing. He looked down. The boy hadn't left footprints, but then neither had Iolaus, so that told him nothing. I imagined it. No, that didn't make any sense. If he was going to imagine someone, it would be someone he knew. Not a stranger, not a kid from somewhere that had a god he had never heard of before. I would have imagined.... No, don't even think that.

It was a trick. He rubbed his eyes, planted his hands on his hips and shook his head, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. None of the monsters had gotten him, and he hadn't gone crazy from the isolation, as least not so that he could tell. So just in case he was having too good a time here, they sent him somebody to talk to and then snatched it away. Well, it worked. The desolation was sinking in again, overwhelming him.

After a time, he started walking again, toward the pillar, because there was nothing else to do. Maybe it hadn't been a trick. Maybe that god, whatever its name was, that the kid thought would protect him had come for him, taken him out of here back to where he was supposed to be.

Too bad nobody was looking for him.

***

Warmth. Real warmth, and the flicker of firelight playing across his face. Sensation returned slowly. Iolaus lay on his side, his head supported on Hercules' thigh, and the demigod was rubbing the back of his neck. Iolaus took a sharp breath.

He leaned back to look up at Hercules, felt moisture trickle down the side of his face into his ears. He lifted a hand to his cheek and realized it was tears. He sat up, wavering a little, and Hercules' hands on his shoulders steadied him. He quickly wiped his face with the heel of his hand.

"You okay?" Hercules asked worriedly.

"Yeah." Iolaus took a sharp breath, the reality of the room sinking in gradually. The crickets sang loudly outside the window and the evening breeze was cool and sweet. It felt as if he had been out for hours, but the fire and the candles hadn't burned down much at all. "Did the Pharaoh say anything about what happened to him on the Paths of the Dead?"

Hercules looked startled, but said, "He didn't remember it. The last thing he remembered was--"

"Wahankh asking to speak to him in private," Iolaus finished.

"Yes. Did you see that?"

"I saw him on the Paths."

"That's where you were this time?" When Iolaus nodded the demigod said cautiously, "It didn't seem too...traumatic."

"Yeah, well...It wasn't. Well, it's not now." Iolaus shook his head. "When I was there, I thought it was like Tartarus, that it was a punishment, and I must have done something...really horrible to end up there."

Hercules frowned worriedly. "You didn't say anything about that before."

"I'm not sure I remembered it." Iolaus rubbed his face, then looked up. One of the first things he had learned when he had come back to life in Egypt was that the Paths of the Dead where he had ended up were only meant to be travelled with a map and a set of protective spells conveyed by the Book of the Dead. But part of him hadn't been entirely convinced. "Knowing that it wasn't a punishment, that that's just the way it is for everybody, makes a big difference."

Hercules nodded slowly, understanding. "It wasn't personal. It was just a series of obstacles that had to be overcome," he said.

"Yeah. And if somehow I ended up back there.... I know the way through, now." He looked at the fire for a long moment. Maybe the dream really had been trying to tell him something he needed to know. It was suddenly easier to think about all this, to say the words without them sticking in his throat. He looked at Hercules, who was still watching him soberly. Iolaus swallowed, his throat still scratchy from the powder, and said, "It's hard to explain, but I've been having trouble...off and on...believing this was real."

"Believing...." Hercules frowned, puzzled. "You mean the trip to Cenchreae?"

"No, I mean everything. Since Egypt. Since I woke up alive." Hercules was staring at him like he had grown another head. Iolaus rolled his eyes. "See, that's how I thought you'd react."

"Sorry, I...." Hercules shook his head, still thrown by the revelation. "But what...."

Iolaus gestured impatiently. "It's not like I thought about it all the time or that I even thought about it consciously, but it was just kind of there, in the back of my head." He tried to explain, "In Egypt it wasn't really the dreams that were keeping me awake.... It was that I was afraid that when I woke up, things would be different. This--" he gestured around at the room "--wouldn't be here. And then there were things that happened...like my bad shoulder isn't bad anymore." Iolaus worked his arm to demonstrate. "All that wet weather and it didn't hurt a bit."

Hercules said patiently, "Well, when Kheper recreated your body, you still had the knife in your chest. He did something to heal that and maybe it healed your old wounds too."

"Yeah, there's a reasonable explanation for everything, that was part of the problem."

Hercules thought about it for a moment, his brow still creased in consternation. "How would it have been possible? Did you think you were dreaming? That you were still trapped?"

"No, I knew Dahak was gone and I knew the Paths of the Dead were real -- you can't make a mistake about that. They're inside and outside your head at the same time, there's no room for you to hallucinate. But I got to the end, to that place Kheper said was the Hall of Two Truths. I figured out that was where I was supposed to leave, but for a long time they couldn't let me out. So maybe what really happened was that I never got out at all, maybe this was just some strange god's idea of mercy, of letting whatever was left of me exist in this ideal dreamworld so I wouldn't notice that I was just fading into oblivion--"

Hercules looked badly disturbed. "Iolaus...."

Iolaus continued in a rush, afraid if he stopped he wouldn't be able to go on, "In Egypt it was easy to ignore it, to pretend that I knew everything was all right, but once we got back here.... Everything was so good. Too good. Too much like what I would have wanted to happen, like something I would have made up. When I went looking for my grave that afternoon, I think I was really looking for a discrepancy, something that would tell me if this wasn't real. I didn't find it, but then things started to happen that seemed to...play into some of the things that Dahak had showed me or threatened me with."

"What things?"

"Like when I remembered you talking to the Sumerian Death God. Dahak showed me that. And...." He took a deep breath and plunged in, "You and the other Iolaus. I didn't remember that until after we left the farm." He had insisted to himself, to Jason, that it wasn't about this. But maybe it was time to admit it was. Even if Hercules wasn't an immortal, the chances were good he would live longer than Iolaus, or at the very least have a longer career as a warrior. Iolaus had always expected the demigod would have to find another partner eventually, but somehow he had imagined it would be some hotshot young hero that Hercules could pass all their accumulated experience on to, not.... Not someone who wasn't a warrior, who would always be looked at as a replacement for himself. He took a sharp breath. He had to get this out. If he didn't, it was a victory for Dahak. "And.... I was just worried that that was...what you wanted."

Hercules stared. "What do you mean?"

"You know." Iolaus shrugged helplessly. He looked away. "Somebody who wouldn't take risks, who wouldn't argue with you, who wouldn't get in your way...."

"In my way?" Hercules repeated. "As in saving my life in my way?"

"Well...." Iolaus said, thinking, Well, when he puts it that way it doesn't make that much sense.

"Iolaus--" Hercules gestured helplessly, shaking his head. "I worry when you take risks, I've always worried about it, but that doesn't mean I don't want you to-- Ow."

He looked at Hercules worriedly. "You okay?"

"Fine." Hercules shifted impatiently, pressing a hand to his injured side. "I thought after you lost your memory in Nemea you understood."

"Yeah, but I thought...you changed your mind. I don't know..."

"Why would I change my mind?" Hercules demanded.

Iolaus took a sharp breath. "Because you thought I betrayed you."

Hercules waited until he looked up, then said with complete conviction, "I never thought that. Not even for a heartbeat. I told you that before, in Egypt. You don't remember it because you weren't all there yet, but--" He shook his head slightly. "Iolaus, I need your help, I can't do this alone. Nobody could do this alone. You know that, don't you?"

Iolaus hesitated, watching the shadow patterns on the rug. "You weren't alone."

"In every way that counts I was," Hercules said with quiet emphasis.

They sat there for a time, just watching the fire. Finally Hercules said, "He never wanted people to mistake him for you. He wants his own life. Now that you're back, I think he might be able to have that."

Iolaus lifted a brow skeptically. "You don't think people will confuse us?"

"With you alive, it won't matter so much," Hercules said. He shrugged. "Besides, you're not identical."

"Well, he cut his hair."

"And you're taller."

Iolaus stared at him, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Hercules protested. "I'm serious. Stand up."

His expression grim, Iolaus stood up, folding his arms.

Hercules eyed him a moment, evidently deciding to drop the subject. "Ah...you've got different scars. Except the one I gave you."

Iolaus sat down again, touching the scar above his right brow. Years ago when they were still at the Academy and Jason was Crown Prince of Corinth, they had been playing bagball in the throne room and Hercules had tackled him too enthusiastically, ramming his head into the corner of a pillar. It had knocked a chunk of stone out of the pillar and Iolaus had spent the next three days in a dream-like haze. "That was an accident."

"I almost killed you."

"All I remember is I got to stay in one of the best rooms in the palace and everybody was nice to me. And you made up that incredibly stupid story about my father coming to see me while I was unconscious and having to leave before I woke up because war broke out in Sparta."

"You didn't believe that?" Hercules managed to sound mostly sincere, though his lips twitched.

"Of course not." Iolaus thought about how utterly earnest Hercules had been at that age, and shook his head. "Do you think it's true, that we could have turned out like them, like the Sovereign and Iolaus, if just a few things had been different?"

Hercules snorted. "No."

Iolaus' brows lifted. "Gee, O Oracle, that was an easy answer."

"It's an easy question." At Iolaus' expression, he protested, "I'm serious. They were the products of their world. The Zeus there was mad and for that to happen their world must have been...messed up when it was created. They never had a real chance."

Iolaus blew out a breath. "Maybe you're right."

"I know I'm right," Hercules grumbled.

Iolaus rolled his eyes and started to climb to his feet. "I'm starved, I'm going to look for something to eat."

"Bring something back for me."

"No," Iolaus said as he stepped past him. "You had yours."

"You're kidding, right?" Hercules shifted awkwardly around to call after him. "Iolaus?"

***

"Does this surprise us?" "Not really." The Wedding of Alcmene

Epilogue

After two more days of enforced inactivity Hercules was more than ready to leave and Asclepius was more than ready to get rid of him. Iolaus was less easy to convince but once he was sure Hercules was healing as rapidly as usual, he agreed that they could leave.

They took it slow on the way back to Corinth, stopping early in the evening to hunt or fish for dinner, or in the late afternoon when they came across a pleasant spot to swim. They lay out in the grass at night counting stars and Hercules even let Iolaus sleep late in the morning. On the afternoon of the fourth day they reached the village near the farm and decided to stop for lunch.

It was a market day and the place was unexpectedly crowded. Stalls were packed into the square, with people haggling and gossiping and exuberant children and dogs running everywhere. Greeting old friends and acquaintances took some time but eventually they were able to settle down at one of the tables outside the little tavern.

After a while Iolaus poked through the olive pits left over from their meal and said thoughtfully, "Well, there's one more thing I want to know."

Hercules smiled faintly. "Only one?"

"Where's Perseus?" Iolaus propped his chin on his hand. "So he didn't have a chance to go after Autolycus before because he was flitting around Cenchreae looking for the shapeshifter, but since then...."

A sudden commotion in the crowd attracted his attention and he trailed off. Frowning, Hercules turned to look just as someone shrieked on the other side of the street and a basket of goosenberries went flying. He and Iolaus exchanged a bemused look and both started to stand.

Suddenly Autolycus appeared, bobbing and weaving through the crowd. He dodged through into a clear spot, looking around wildly.

Oh, great, Hercules thought. The last thing he wanted right now was another go-round with Autolycus over whatever the thief had stolen this time. "Duck," he muttered to Iolaus, pushing his bench back with the intention of diving under the table.

But Autolycus spotted them before they could take cover. Instead of launching into a "catch me if you can" speech, he shouted triumphantly, "Aha!" and plunged toward them, thrusting a hand into his tunic.

Having no idea what he was about to produce, Iolaus almost reeled off the bench trying to get away. But Autolycus only pulled out a sandal and shoved it at him, saying urgently, "Take this!"

Too startled to resist, Iolaus accepted the sandal. Autolycus did a diving roll across their table, scattering plates and cups. He bolted across the open-air tavern as other patrons leapt out of the way, then vanished under the awning that sheltered the kitchen area.

"What the...." Iolaus muttered, looking down at the sandal. Clashing, clanging, and dismayed shouts rang out as Autolycus completed his escape through the back way.

Hercules leaned forward to look at it, puzzled. "Well, at least he didn't have the Shield of Invisibility anymore...."

He trailed off as he realized there were two little wings with white gold-tipped feathers attached to the dyed leather sole, flapping frantically. Iolaus lifted a brow. "You were saying?"

The disturbed market crowd parted again suddenly and Perseus stood in the clearing, glaring around thunderously. He wore a new-looking pristine white tunic and cloak with a gold fillet resting on his perfectly trimmed blond locks. The Shield of Invisibility was slung over his back but he was only wearing one winged sandal.

Iolaus hastily shoved the flapping sandal into his vest out of sight. He looked at Hercules, eyes alight with mischief.

Hercules nodded, smiling slowly. "Let's go see Jason," he said.

end

Some evil shapeshifting visitors from other worlds were severely injured in the writing of this story but the SPCAO (Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animorphic Objects) was present to ensure that no harm came to any winged footwear.

Please post a comment on this story.