Night on the Borderlands

Iolaus opened his eyes, winced away from light that sent a bolt of pain right through his forehead. Augh, hangover, he thought with a grimace. His mouth was dry and sandy, the back of his throat was on fire and a damp chill raised gooseflesh on his skin; his body hurt with a bone-deep ache. Squinting against the light, he made a terrible effort and pushed himself up on his elbows. The rough stone surface under him gritted painfully against his hands, catching on the soft material of the shirt he wore. For a moment that was as far as he could get; it felt like something was actually sitting on his chest. He managed to get his eyes all the way open and saw the light wasn't that bright; dim sunlight fell through the cracks in a cave roof high overhead, revealing a cold shadowy cavern. Uh oh, he thought warily. He had a bad feeling about this.

Baffled, Iolaus pushed himself up a little more. The clothes he wore were of a black and filmy silk, and doing absolutely nothing to keep out the chill radiating off the stone. He lifted a fold of the fabric, seeing it was stained with something that had the unpleasant coppery odor of dried blood. A lot of dried blood. So maybe not a hangover, he thought, sick. The shirt had been torn open across his chest and he pulled it aside to see a fresh wound, red and raw, nearly a handspan long, right down the center of his chest. More dried blood stained his skin, as if it had run in rivulets down his chest and stomach. Grimacing, he pulled the shirt closed. I did not see that. That was not there.

He looked blearily around, suddenly realizing he wasn't lying on the floor, but on a roughly square slab of stone, several feet high. He groaned aloud, though it hurt his throat. This just keeps getting better. Desperate to get off this plinth, he managed to swing mostly unresponsive legs off the stone and push himself over the edge. His legs gave out and he caught himself on the slab, wincing. The stone scraped painfully; everything seemed to hurt way too much, as if his skin was far too sensitive. Pushing himself up a little, blinking, he saw he had been lying in blood, pooling in the crevices of the rough stone. He touched it with one finger, uneasily fascinated, but it was dry. Whatever happened, it happened a while ago. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Still unsteady, he sank down beside the slab. Squinting, he saw there were big stone doors in the far wall of the cave, but he couldn't tell if they were real or some kind of ornament carved into the wall; they looked far too heavy for anyone mortal to move. The floor was pitted and cracked with age. He saw a slight depression nearby still held a puddle of rainwater and he lurched forward, scooping up a bare handful to drink. It was stale and tasted of the rock but was almost cool enough to slake the fire in his throat.

A sharp sound, a crash of stone against stone sent dull echoes through the chamber. Iolaus froze, head lifted, staring at the doors....

Iolaus flailed awake. He realized the thing on top of him that he was fighting was actually a blanket and shoved himself upright, his heart pounding, with no idea what had woken him. They were camped in the shelter of a rocky overhang, and the dying fire still gave enough light to wash the stone with red, to show him there was no one nearby. Not here and not at the edge of the shadowy stand of pines that vanished into darkness down the hill, past the reach of the firelight. His sword and bow were propped against the rock, their packs piled nearby. The night smelled damply of wet earth and pine, but nothing more.

Then he noticed Hercules had rolled away and was sitting up on one elbow, holding his nose. Iolaus frowned. "What's wrong?"

Hercules directed a mild glare at him. "I don't know. Apparently I was asleep, and someone backhanded me in the face."

Iolaus stared at him blankly. "Oh. Sorry." He was still breathing hard and he shook his head, trying to clear it, shoving the hair out of his eyes.

Hercules rolled onto his back, cautiously feeling his nose. Being woken in this abrupt fashion had obviously made him a tad grumpy. "Look, if you want to wake me up, just shaking my shoulder and saying--"

"No." Iolaus shot him a glare back. The nightmare was coming back to him in flashes and he realized that was what had woken him. "It was a dream." He found himself staring down at his chest, but the scar from the last time he had been killed was barely visible, not a new raw wound. He touched it cautiously, not sure he believed his own eyes.

Watching him, Hercules sat up, a little more awake. "About Dahak?"

"Yes. No." Iolaus rubbed his eyes, wishing he could either banish the images or understand what they meant. And dreaming that he had woken up and then actually waking up left him uneasy. He kept waiting for the other sandal to drop. "I woke up alive. Or I thought I was alive. And there was a door, with something coming through it. That's all."

"Oh." Hercules propped his arms on his knees, eyeing him thoughtfully. "Was...the other Iolaus involved? Because that's usually when you try to hit me in your sleep."

"No." Iolaus glared at him again.

"Sorry." Hercules contemplated the glare for a moment. He cleared his throat. "I was trying to lighten the mood."

"Don't." Iolaus recaptured his blanket and flopped back down, yanking it up to his shoulder and turning his back to the demigod.

Hercules watched this with a bemused shake of his head. "Right." He sighed to himself and tried to go back to sleep.

***

Hercules had hoped Iolaus' mood would be improved by the time he woke in the morning. It usually was, even when he had nightmares.

But Iolaus sat across the fire from him, his himation pulled around his shoulders against the chill in the air, his expression disgruntled. The morning was wet and cool, the sky gray and the pines dripping. The damp made the loose curls of Iolaus' hair even wilder than usual, and his bangs were too long, giving him the appearance of an angry blond sheepdog. Hercules decided to keep this observation to himself; he had used a little grain from their supply bag to make a porridge to go with last night's leftover duck for breakfast, and he didn't want to end up wearing it. And Iolaus was eating like it was an unpleasant duty, so presumably he wouldn't mind flinging it.

Iolaus was too preoccupied to much notice the food, the faint drizzle of rain in the cool air, or his damp leathers. He had remembered more details of the dream, and the more he remembered, the more uneasy it made him. Hercules had been right, it had the feel of a Dahak dream. And, logically, if he was going to dream about waking up dead -- or alive -- on a sacrificial altar with a wound in his chest where somebody had cut his heart out, you would assume Dahak was going to be involved in there somewhere. But all the Dahak nightmares had been memories. Most of them he hadn't actually remembered until he had seen them again in the dreams, but once he had, he had known them for something that had actually happened. This one...didn't feel as if it had happened. At least not to him, not so far. But it didn't feel like something he had made up to scare himself either; he knew his imagination didn't run that way.

Lost in thought, he had stopped eating and was frowning intently at the fire.

Hercules noticed, his brows drawing together in concern. Iolaus was usually too pragmatic to let a bad mood interfere with his appetite. "You okay?" He asked, unable to help himself.

Iolaus gave him a look that suggested the question was nonsensical to the point of bordering on insane. "Yes." But he made an effort to tuck into the food.

Hercules frowned. He couldn't tell if he was overreacting or if Iolaus was. And the thought that there might be something to react to that he had missed bothered him. "Did something happen last night?" he asked, a little exasperated and a little worried.

The worry penetrated Iolaus' preoccupation. He looked at Hercules, bemused, lifting a brow. "While you were asleep? Like what?"

Hercules gestured helplessly. "I don't know, that's why I'm asking."

Iolaus shook his head, pushing the nightmare images firmly aside. It was just a dream, and he was tired of thinking about it. "It's nothing. I just can't wake up this morning, that's all."

"It's not exactly a great morning for travelling," Hercules agreed. He decided to let it go. Maybe it was just the interrupted night's sleep. And he had to admit the weather wasn't exactly lifting his spirits either.

That was probably all it was.

***

Despite the rain, they covered ground steadily the next day, making their way through the forested hills. By sunset they reached the river and decided to camp on the sandy bank. The moon was waning and covered by clouds, and they were still a couple of hours walk outside the village of Tyrias. The village was small and probably had nothing like a tavern, and there was no point in pushing on tonight just to wake someone up and ask to sleep in a barn. They managed to catch a few fish by firelight and had those and the last of the olives and cheese for dinner.

It was a wide calm shallow river, a sheet of black glass in the dark, quiet except for the muted chuckle of the water over rock.

Sitting beside their fire, Iolaus looked off down the valley, to where he knew the village lay, but he couldn't see its fires from here. "I wonder what's wrong there, in Tyrias."

Hercules shook his head, adding another piece of wood to the fire. "Out here, it could be anything. King Liatres said the villagers' message wasn't very clear. It almost sounds like they don't know what's wrong."

Iolaus nodded, yawning. "That would tend to rule out your large monsters. It's pretty easy to tell when you've got a ghidra problem."

"I hope it's not a ghidra." Hercules let out his breath, running his hands through his hair. "A small, easily discouraged monster," he said a little wistfully. "Maybe something that could be negotiated with...."

Iolaus suppressed a grin, regarding Hercules with a lifted brow. "Wow. I think you just got old, right here, in front of my eyes."

Hercules snorted derisively. "Uh huh. Since I'm so old now, I'm going to sleep."

Iolaus sat up a while longer, listening to the quiet mutter of the river and the wind through the pines. After a while he realized that the reason he felt reluctant to lie down and sleep was the dream he had had last night. Idiot, he told himself. If it was a ghidra or something like it, this might be his last chance for a sound sleep for the next few days. He knocked the dirt and sand off his bedroll and lay down.

And he slid into the next dream as if sliding beneath the cold surface of the river, and it was much worse.

Iolaus was slumped on a cold stone floor and he hurt again; his chest ached and it was hard to breathe. People were standing over him, talking, and torchlight flickered, but his attention was caught by the sticky wetness dripping down his chest. Dazed, he lifted his hand; it was wet with blood. He levered himself up a little and looked down. It was coming from the raw red wound in his chest. It made a trail, smeared where he had fallen into it, and as he looked behind him he saw it led to a large square opening in the rock wall. He could see the large carved doors standing open, each nearly three feet thick. The chamber past them was a wall of darkness. I was in there, he thought, baffled.

"Hey, there's...blood and...." He looked up, wanting to call someone's attention to the blood problem. His throat hurt and his voice came out as an unrecognizable rasp. No one responded and he squinted, his eyes confused by shifting shadows and torchlight, trying to see who these people were. He saw Hercules, Jason, Nebula, Morrigan -- Morrigan? he thought, bewildered. That doesn't make any sense. -- two men he didn't recognize, and others standing in the shadowy background, moving, whispering. The only one who seemed to notice him was himself. No, wait, that was the Jester, the other Iolaus. He was standing beside Hercules, looking down at him with a horrified expression.

Whatever, Iolaus thought. He didn't want to talk to the other Iolaus. He focused on what the others were saying and heard, "--it obviously didn't work. You have to try again."

"Again?" That was Hercules, but Iolaus couldn't get a good view of his face, couldn't hear him clearly. It bothered him that Hercules wouldn't look at him. He wanted to try to get his attention and started to reach out, but he was distracted by the conversation and let his hand fall.

"It's the only way to kill Dahak." That was Morrigan, and her he could hear clearly. She sounded passionate, intense. "You can't let it get away again."

"It didn't get away," Iolaus told them, but nobody paid attention.

"He's got it inside him," one of the other men said. "You know that to be true. It must be driven out."

"Yes, Zarathustra is right," Morrigan seconded, "If it wasn't Dahak inside him, how could this happen?"

"Who are you talking about?" Iolaus demanded, forcing more strength into his voice despite the pain.

They looked down at him this time, and it was Morrigan's eyes he met. Her gaze was cold, merciless, and triumphant.

"Oh," Iolaus said, dread settling into his stomach. He knew who they meant.

Iolaus jolted awake, sitting bolt upright, breathing hard, heart pounding. He didn't wake Hercules this time, since the demigod had taken the precaution of sleeping on the far side of the fire. Okay. That was different. As in worse.

The fire had burnt down to coals and it was too dark to see anything but the faint outline of the hills against the lighter black of the overcast sky. He could hear the familiar chuckle of the water running over the rocks, a friendly sound in the dark, and it gradually brought him back to reality.

Iolaus realized he had a hand pressed to his chest and made himself remove it. It was so vivid. Even now, he could still see it all, like a festival play in his mind's eye. He could have sworn it was real.

Maybe it was real. He looked at Hercules, stretched out on a blanket on the far side of the fire. He lay half on his side, one arm flung over his eyes. Maybe it's something he just hasn't told you about yet.

The thought would have sounded deranged, except for the fact that Hercules had failed to tell him that he had brought Iolaus' exact duplicate back from the Sovereign's world and travelled with the man for several months. For all Iolaus knew, he still would have no idea the man existed if he hadn't run into him beside the grave marker where Iolaus' old body was buried. And if he hadn't remembered in a dream that Dahak had predicted it, and had shown him Hercules and the Jester travelling together.

He sat a little closer to the fire, finding a stick to poke it back into reluctant life. I thought we were done with all this. Morrigan's brief return had triggered more hidden memories for both him and Hercules, and he had thought that was the last of it.

Iolaus took a deep breath and faced the fear lurking in the back of his mind. Hercules, Jason, Nebula and Morrigan had all been present for that last battle with Dahak. Iolaus wasn't certain who the other men were. Except the Jester. But that's impossible. He wasn't there. He wasn't even in this world yet. Maybe that part was just an invention of the dream....

But Morrigan had called one of the other men Zarathustra. Zarathustra. Hercules said he came to help, but at some point Dahak took his place. That had been one of those hidden memories Morrigan had unintentionally helped them uncover. He said Zarathustra was definitely Dahak in the other place, after we thought we had killed it. They had killed off most of the demon god, but a few fragments had survived. All of the fragments had been killed now, or at least Kheper had been confident of that. And the last few times they thought they had found another one, it had turned out to be something else.

It made Iolaus' guts cold to think it, but the dreams could have been memories of something that had happened in Dahak's temple, when Hercules and the others had fought it for the last time. But he had never remembered seeing anything through Dahak's eyes while the creature had inhabited his body. All his other memories had been of the other place where he had been trapped, of being randomly tortured by the demon-god. And the first dream had left him with the conviction that Dahak had been nowhere around.

That was me, not Dahak. That was me bleeding on the floor while they debated what to do. Iolaus groaned under his breath, rubbed his face, looking away into the night. Maybe it was nothing, just a particularly inventive nightmare. Maybe Morpheus had sent it to torture him, though the god of dreams was mortally afraid of Hercules. After helping Ares with his plots one too many times, Hercules had personally explained to Morpheus what was likely to happen if he did it again.

Iolaus knew one thing for certain. He sure as Tartarus wasn't sleeping anymore tonight.

***

The next morning they were walking along the wide river bank, heading toward the village. The sun was finally starting to break through the clouds and the wind was fresh, the broad sweep of the shallow river gleaming in the watery light. But the forest started at the edge of the river flat and covered the gentle slopes, and the shadows were still thick under the trees. Hercules noticed Iolaus staring with concentrated intensity in that direction and frowned, following his gaze. "Something out there?" he asked.

"Huh?" Iolaus looked up absently, the wind blowing the hair into his eyes. He had his sword and bow slung over his shoulder, and was wearing his threadbare himation over his leathers. "Oh no, I was just...thinking."

Hercules gave him a sideways smile. "That's new." He ducked and twisted sideways, using the packs he was carrying to fend off the predicted swat to the head.

They walked on for another few steps, then Iolaus said, "Hercules."

"Hmm?"

"Is there something you haven't told me?"

Hercules looked at him, startled by the question. Iolaus' expression was serious, and a little worried. "No. You know as much as I do. Liatres' message didn't say anything else except what I told you--"

"Not about this." Iolaus shook his head, pressing his lips together. "About what happened when I died." He seemed to consider that for a moment. Then he added belatedly, "The last time I died."

Hercules stared, surprised. "The last time-- All right." Iolaus usually didn't bring this up. He nodded, saying, "I think I've told you everything. What do you want to know about?"

"Uh...." Iolaus hesitated. He had had a pretty bad night, but when it came down to it.... I can't ask him this, he thought, frustrated. In the daylight, all those dark worries suddenly seemed strange, and a little crazy. You had a nightmare. It's different from the others, that's all. You're nuts for letting it bother you. He was probably dreaming about crazy Morrigan nearly getting him killed by the druid sorcerer, mixing that up with what Hercules had told him about fighting Dahak in the temple. Hey, that's got to be it. It was so obvious he halted abruptly, staring into the distance. Why else would the other Iolaus be there? He wasn't even in this world yet when Dahak was in Corinth. But he had been there when Morrigan had come to the farm to set her little trap, to prove to Hercules that Iolaus was Dahak, or whatever it was she had meant to prove. He clapped himself in the forehead, exasperated at not realizing it before.

Hercules was watching him with a bemused expression. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Iolaus said in relief. "Never mind, I figured it out."

"Okay." Hercules lifted his brows. "That was easy." He threw a thoughtful look at him as they started to walk again. "Is this about that nightmare you had?"

"Yeah, but it's just--" Iolaus hesitated, one breath away from pouring out the whole story of both nightmares, to see what Hercules thought.

But someone hailed them from ahead and looking up, Iolaus saw the scatter of huts on the high ground overlooking the river, and he forgot about it as the first of the villagers came out to greet them.

***

The village was even smaller than Iolaus had expected, just a collection of battered huts and ragged kitchen gardens, with hens scratching on the pathways and goats grazing everywhere. A few flatboats were drawn up along the riverbank and a couple of women were doing their spinning and weaving out in the intermittent sunshine. Smoke drifted up from hearth fires and he could smell bread baking; despite the ramshackle look of everything, the place seemed content and healthy.

A swarm of muddy children had followed them up the path, staring in fascination at Iolaus' sword and bow, and at Hercules in general. The headman Berias had come out to shoo off the curious crowd and invited the two warriors into his hut.

Now they sat in the front room, with Berias on the only stool and Hercules and Iolaus sitting by the central hearth, the fire driving off the damp and warming the cold room. "We've counted twenty-seven disappearances in the past month," Berias said, leaning on his staff. His long hair was completely gray-white and his craggy face was deeply worried. "This village and the three to the south and west."

Several of the village elders had followed them in to listen, and one woman whose name was Thene added, "I say there's more before that. There were at least two or three people missing in the month before this one."

"But none before that?" Iolaus asked, twisting around to face her. Her face was handsome rather than pretty and she looked young to be an elder at first glance, but in the firelight caught glints of gray in her blond hair.

"None to remark on." Thene shook her head, biting her lip. "At first it was young people, with no ties here, or older folks who had always kept to themselves. We put it down to just them wanting to move on."

Iolaus knew what she meant. Young people could get fed up with their neighbors or families and leave; it was pretty much what he had done himself as a teenager. Others could go off with a lover or just decide to live in another village somewhere else, without bothering to tell anyone. But for that many to vanish in such a short time, there had to be another reason. A very bad reason. "It's just adults, no children missing?" He stopped himself just in time from adding "yet." But looking around at the grim faces, he thought they had all heard it anyway.

"No one younger than sixteen or so," one of the men answered, shifting uncomfortably. "I know we should have sent for help before this, but there was no bodies, no odd tracks, no sign of anything...you know, out of the ordinary."

Berias nodded, his brow creased with anxiety. "And it's only been in the past few weeks that it started taking people who everyone agreed had no reason to go of their own will. Men with wives and families, and women with children or elders to take care of. People who seemed happy here. They go in the middle of the night, if they're alone, or in the day when everyone is busy elsewhere. And they don't take anything, not food or blankets or their winter clothes or anything else that we can tell." He gestured, looking helpless. "We sent to King Liatres for help fourteen days ago, and I wish we'd done it the first time we felt a suspicion that something was truly wrong. We thought we could look about for the culprit ourselves, that what we had was some lone traveler gone mad and preying on us. But we found nothing. And it just gets worse, faster and faster."

Iolaus felt a chill creeping up his back. These were isolated villages, used to taking care of their own problems, and there were enough hunters among them who would have been able to find a mortal outlaw. This was putting his stupid nightmares back into perspective, that was certain.

Hercules had been listening in concentrated silence, his brows drawn together. "Has anyone disappeared from the other side of the river?" he asked suddenly.

Iolaus lifted his brows. It would narrow the search substantially. Berias frowned, considering, and looked around the room to consult the others. "Not that I've heard. It's just been the villages on this side."

There was more discussion, but the elders really didn't know much more that could help them. The meeting broke up and Thene, who had been one of the first to be alarmed by the disappearances, went to get the list of the missing villagers she had put together. Walking out to stand on the edge of the low bluff that overlooked the broad shallow valley, Hercules and Iolaus had a chance to talk privately. Iolaus grimaced, shaking his head. "With no tracks and no bodies, this isn't going to be easy."

Clouds were darkening the sky again, though the sun still shone on the river further down the valley. The cool wind that pulled at their hair had the scent of rain in it. Hercules rested a hand on Iolaus' shoulder, squeezing absently as he frowned in thought. "I haven't come across anything like this before. I'd say it could be a blue swirly doorway, trapping people, but it doesn't quite fit."

Iolaus nodded grimly. "Everyone would have disappeared when they headed off to a specific part of the forest to hunt or pick berries or something. After nearly thirty people missing, it would be obvious where the thing was."

His expression troubled, Hercules looked off toward the river, where women and children were moving along the bank, collecting reeds for baskets. "I really don't like the fact that it started with people who wouldn't be missed quickly," he said thoughtfully. "That seems to show it...knows what it's doing. Who it's taking."

Iolaus didn't like that either. Smart monsters were always worse. He shrugged ruefully. "I'd feel better about this if it was a nice easy hydra."

"Me too." Hercules took a deep breath. "Let's get started."

Thene brought them her list, carefully written out on a sheet of parchment, and stood watching as they made their way into the forest. "Be careful," she called softly after them.

***

Hours later, following a faint footpath under the trees, Hercules wasn't ready to admit defeat, but he was ready to admit extreme frustration. They were in the low forested hills above the river, where the outlying homesteads were. The sun, now completely hidden behind gray clouds, was beginning to sink to the horizon and they had no more idea of what had happened to the missing villagers than they had this morning. He glanced down at Iolaus, saying without much hope, "Any ideas?"

"Hardly." Iolaus snorted, sounding disgusted at their lack of progress. "Whatever this thing is, it knows how to cover its trail."

Hercules agreed. He had started out the day believing that no matter how hard and how carefully the villagers had searched, that between the two of them he and Iolaus would find tracks or remains that would throw some light on the situation. That hadn't happened.

They had visited all the places where the vanished people had lived, starting out at the lonely hermit's hut where the first disappearance had taken place. The occupant had been an irascible old man who had wandered into the area one day and moved into the abandoned hut. The villagers all believed strongly in taking care of each other, especially of the older folk living alone; the isolation of the villages made that a necessity. But the old man hadn't gotten along with anybody, rebuffing attempts at friendship and charity. When the locals had noticed that he hadn't shown up at the past few market days to throw rotten vegetables, a headman had gone out to the hut to make sure he wasn't dead or injured. He had found the hut deserted, the garden overgrown, and no sign of the man anywhere around. They had assumed he had just drifted out of the area again. Hercules and Iolaus had searched the hut and the land around it thoroughly, and ended up learning nothing. Hercules had shaken his head over the remains of the extensive herb garden; with such a variety of plants, with herbs for healing, meditation, and everything else, the man might have been a healer or a priest once. From what the villagers had said, he had gone a little mental and might just have wandered off on his own. It was such a waste.

The last house they had visited was the home of a widow potter who lived with her children and her sister. They had come home from market and fields two days ago to find their dinner warm in a clay pot by the fire and no sign of the sister. As Iolaus had pointed out, presumably if the woman had been so sick of her family that she had left without saying goodbye, she would have gone that morning as soon as she was alone, and not bothered to spend all day doing the washing and to make dinner for her despised relations. Those relations had begged Hercules to find the sister, and after a day of looking at empty huts and untended fields and gardens whose owners were probably dead, that had been the last straw. He shook his head, letting his breath out. "The best guess is that it's something that takes human form and convinces them to go with it."

Iolaus nodded. They had come up with that one early in the day. At least they knew it wasn't a god playing tricks; the villages all had shrines to Artemis, and she wasn't known for luring off mortals. Or eating them. "It must be damn convincing. We know some of them went in the middle of the night, and you'd think the villagers would be too suspicious to fall for that. Especially since they've known about the disappearances for a month now. Unless--" He looked thoughtful, hitching his sword up on his shoulder. "It takes the form of someone they know."

Hercules nodded, still frowning absently in thought. Also frustratingly, the creature, whatever it was, had not made the slightest attempt on either of them, despite the fact that they had been tramping back and forth through what seemed to be its prime hunting territory. Finding the damn monster wasn't usually a problem. He grimaced in frustration. "We need to camp out here, see if it'll make a try for us." Besides, it was getting dark and he could hear Iolaus' stomach growling.

Iolaus paused to study the terrain. "Let's go further out. We'll make a better target." He chose a path down the hill, deeper into the shadowy forest. "Of course," he added over his shoulder, "If you're right and it knows who it's taking, it's going to know we're after it."

"I know," Hercules agreed, his lips twisted wryly. "Our reputation is getting out of hand."

***

They made camp in a small clearing, deep in the forest. Iolaus had made an effort to pick the least defensible spot he could find, surrounded by overhanging beeches, the dark forest stretching off in all directions.

They made a fire and ate the food the villagers had given them that morning, bread, cheese, olives and dried mutton. Dusting the crumbs from his hands, Hercules said in frustration, "What I'm wondering is why this thing is here at all."

Still chewing, Iolaus shrugged. "Why not here?"

Hercules shook his head, looking out into the quiet dark again. "When you think about it, the villagers realized pretty quickly that something was wrong, even though this thing was so careful no one saw any trace of it. Why did it pick a spot where even a few disappearances would be noticed? Why not a big city like Athens, where people come and go all the time, where there are thieves and beggars no one would notice missing, where it could move from neighborhood to neighborhood and take people right and left and no one would be able to tell, or see a pattern, for months and months?"

Iolaus considered that a moment, finishing off the last of the bread. "Maybe there's already one in Athens, and no one knows yet."

Hercules lowered his brows. For someone who normally had a fairly cheerful disposition, Iolaus was adept at seeing the worst case scenario. "Thanks. That helps a lot."

"Okay, fine." Iolaus wiped his mouth on his gauntlet and tugged his himation up higher on his shoulders against the damp chill. "Maybe it's something that has to live in an isolated place. We could be wrong about it being able to take human form. It could be a flying monster, like a harpy, that grabs people and takes them far away to eat. Someone steps outside, day or night, and bam. No tracks, no bodies."

Hercules eyed him. He didn't want to admit it was a good theory, but.... "Why hasn't anybody seen it?"

Iolaus thought about it, frowning seriously. "It's invisible."

They looked at each other for a moment, then up at the night sky.

"Right," Hercules said after a time, still warily studying the dark clouds. "I'll take the first watch."

***

It didn't take Iolaus any time to fall asleep, despite the possibility of either a shape-changing killer or a flying man eating monster in the area. He had had little sleep the night before, they had covered a great deal of frustrating ground today, the forest floor was soft with spongy moss, and his stomach was comfortably full. With Hercules on watch, he curled up near the fire, his scabbarded sword in one hand, and slid quickly into sleep.

And fell headlong into another dream. His first thought was, Oh, Tartarus, not again....

He slammed face first into a cold stone wall and slid down it, stunned. Catching himself on the floor, he looked up with a bleary glare. "What now?"

The two men standing over him were only vaguely familiar. They were both big, burly, dressed in rough stained leather and plaids and one wore a tarnished belt buckle with a sinuous Eirish design. This was a big square corridor, shadowy and torch-lit. Morrigan shoved past the men, telling them, "Hurry, you heard what Hercules said."

Both men reached down, each one gripping an arm and hauling Iolaus to his feet. "Ow," Iolaus muttered, swaying. He looked down, saw the wound in his chest had healed to a raw red scar. Well, that's an improvement. He was still dressed in the flimsy black silk; it was still useless against the cold and the shirt kept trying to slide off his shoulder. "If I was Dahak, you really think I'd be putting up with this shit?"

Morrigan laughed and didn't answer. That airy little laugh would have been annoying enough at any time; when you had had a fatal chest wound and everybody was acting like you were Dahak, it was enough to make you crazy. And it was even more frustrating that Iolaus couldn't remember why he was so angry with her. And why am I dreaming about her? This is still a dream, right? It was starting to feel awfully real.

He grimaced as the men jerked him into motion, dragging him down the corridor. Squinting, he saw a doorway ahead. It was small, barely his height, opening into a pitch dark room. He saw square stone blocks piled beside it and knew in his guts what it was. "That's a tomb." He tried to plant his feet but the men hauled him forward. "Morrigan!"

She didn't look back at him, and the sudden realization of why made him angry. "You're not answering me because you want me to think I'm dead?" he said to her unresponsive back. "He didn't tell you to put me in there." He twisted around, shouting "Hercules!"

His voice echoed down the empty corridor. Iolaus cursed under his breath, suddenly more angry than anything else. "Fine. Let's do it this way." He twisted an arm free, slammed a fist into one man's face and knee-capped the other with a kick. That one went down, and Iolaus snatched his swordhilt as he fell, dragging the weapon free of the scabbard.

A sword came at him from the firelit dark of the corridor and Iolaus parried it, then took the man out with a deep cut to the chest. As his opponent dropped like a rock Iolaus smashed his swordhilt into the head of the other man who was still struggling to get up. Stepping lightly back out of reach, Iolaus eyed his sprawled opponents. None looked likely to get up anytime soon.

Morrigan stepped into view, her sword at ready. Smiling grimly, she said, "I knew you'd show us what you truly were."

Iolaus felt his lips peel back into a feral grin. "Yeah, I can tell you're all broken up about it. But here's the thing, Champion of Justice: Dahak never gave you a moment's thought. I'm the one you need to worry about."

She snarled and lunged at him. He parried the first few cuts, gauging her as an opponent. He could tell she had supernatural strength, and that would have been a problem for a man who hadn't spent his entire life sparring with the strongest demigod in the world. That should be a change for Morrigan; he knew she liked her mortals helpless.

He ducked under a cut that should have taken his head off and came up inside her guard. Slamming the flat of her blade into the wall with his body, he punched her in the face with his swordhilt.

He stepped back as she went down, watching her grope for her sword. She was bleeding from a cut lip, glaring up at him. "Take your time," he told her. "I can wait."

"Iolaus."

He spun around, staring. Standing a few paces down the corridor was Hercules. Taking a sharp breath in relief, he lowered the sword. "Herc. I knew you wouldn't leave me here."

***

Hercules never fell asleep on watch. He needed sleep as much as anybody, but he had realized early on that he could put it off for a few days if he had to, without the ill effects a mortal would feel. He didn't enjoy it, but there were a lot of things he had to do that he didn't particularly enjoy. Staying awake for half the night should have been easy.

He had been sitting cross-legged near the fire, tending it and keeping an eye on the dark forest around them. The next thing he knew, he was standing in a large torchlit stone chamber. He stared around, baffled. The room looked as if it had been hacked right out of the rock; there were figures carved on the walls but they were too faint to make any sense out of. There was a large stone altar at the far end, but no statues, no offerings, no banners or painted symbols to indicate what god it belonged to.

"I fell asleep, this is a dream," he muttered aloud. "I can't believe I did this. I wasn't that tired." If Iolaus woke up and found Hercules sleeping on the job.... He'll never let me live it down, he thought in exasperation. But it's odd. I never do this. "Something's not right." He looked around again, frustrated. "I really need to wake up. And why do I keep talking to myself?"

"Hercules!"

"Gah!" Hercules whipped around, staring. Morrigan had appeared at his elbow without making a sound. He would have sworn there was no way she could have crossed the large chamber without him noticing. That a heartbeat ago the place had been empty. "Where did you come from?" he demanded. Looking past her, he saw there were other people in the room now. Jason, Nebula, Zarathustra. He remembered he didn't trust Zarathustra; someone he trusted had told him something disturbing about the man, but in this dream he couldn't remember what it was. There were others there too, men who looked like mercenaries, dressed in rough plaids. Eirish men. He looked down at Morrigan again, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"

She ignored both questions, gazing up at him earnestly. "You're back. Good. Everything is ready. You must try to kill Dahak again."

She turned, pointing, and across the room there was suddenly a huge creature, like some large distorted insect. Crouched on several haunches, it half-lifted itself, hissing and snarling, waving clawed serrated limbs.

"Oh, no." Hercules shook his head, disgusted. "Dahak's dead and I am not going through this again, even in a dream." He looked around, frowning, and saw an arched doorway nearby, a dark corridor beyond it. "I'm leaving."

Morrigan stared at him, appalled. "You can't leave! You have to try again! You have to kill Dahak! I'm certain this time it will work."

Yeah, you're certain of a lot of things. "It's just a dream," he told her, but he knew she wouldn't listen to him. Why should dream-Morrigan be any more reasonable than real-Morrigan? "Look at that!" He pointed across the room.

As she turned to look Hercules headed for the archway, moving quickly and quietly. He was out of sight before she turned back. That was easy. Now to get out of here. Occasional torches lit the way and he paused in an intersection of corridors, looking around. He didn't remember the temple Dahak had built in Corinth being this large and confusing, but in dreams things were always large and confusing.

There was a faint patter of footsteps behind him and he turned in time to see the Jester appear around a corner. The man slid to a halt, eyeing him nervously.

"It's all right," Hercules said, trying to sound reassuring. "Hey, were you with me when I got here? You wouldn't happen to know how I did that? Got here, that is."

The other Iolaus hesitated, then gestured helplessly. "I don't think so. I don't remember how I got here."

"Right." Hercules tapped his fingers on his belt. "I was afraid of that."

"I think...." the other Iolaus looked vastly uncomfortable, as if about to suggest something he didn't think Hercules would like. "I think this is a dream."

Hercules nodded absently. "Oh, I know it's a dream." He gestured in annoyance. "Of course, it's a dream. So I don't even know why I'm bothering to look for the way out. I should just wake up." He let his breath out in frustration. "So why is that not happening?"

The other Iolaus looked even more worried. "So you're having a dream, and I'm having a dream, and it's the same dream?"

"That's...really odd, isn't it." Hercules grimaced, shaking his head. Something's not right. "If we're both having the same dream, why isn't Iolaus here?" That made sense, even if it was only by the nonsensical logic of dreams. "And Morrigan said I was supposed to kill Dahak...." He really didn't like this. He started back the way he had come, the other Iolaus skipping hastily out of his way. "I need to find out what this is about."

***

Iolaus looked around, realizing Morrigan and the other men were no longer sprawled bleeding on the corridor floor. It was just he and Hercules. Hercules held out a hand to him, saying, "Come with me."

Iolaus didn't move. There was something about the gesture that struck a chord of memory. An unpleasant chord of memory. Someone had tricked him like this, sometime before, but.... His head was suddenly throbbing with pain and he couldn't think. "Damn, ow!" He stumbled and pressed a hand to his head, convinced his brain was about to leak out.

Hercules stepped up to him, taking the sword out of his hand and tossing it aside. "Hurry, we're running out of time."

"Right." Iolaus didn't resist as the demigod caught his arm, towing him down the corridor. "This is about the thing? The thing we're fighting? There is a thing, right?"

The pain in his head was fading a little but he still couldn't seem to think straight. He saw Hercules glance down at him, his face shadowed by the shifting torchlight. Hercules said, "Yes, that's what it's about. We have to get out of here."

"It's a creature, something that takes human form, or flies." Iolaus was relieved to dredge up even that spotty memory. It felt right, it felt like something that had really happened. They reached a turn in the corridor, where a greater number of torches lit the way and Iolaus winced at the brighter light. "Oh, just so you know, I was going to kill Morrigan, but she started it...." He let the words trail off. They were at the arched entrance of a large chamber, lit by hundreds of torches. The walls were marked with faded carvings, but it was oddly bare for a temple. At the far end was an altar stone, stained dark with dried blood. "Why are we here?" he asked, startled.

He staggered as Hercules tightened his grip on his arm and hauled him inside. "Hey!" Iolaus objected, dragging his feet, more confused than alarmed. "You said we had to get out of here; this isn't the way out."

The others were suddenly there again, Jason, Nebula, Morrigan, Zarathustra, others he didn't recognize. Hercules had dragged him nearly across the room to the altar before it suddenly dawned on Iolaus what this was about. Horrified, he wrenched away. "No! I'm not Dahak!"

The blow snapped his head back and he dropped to his knees, stunned. His vision went black on the edges and he swayed over on his side. Hercules reached down for him, scooping him off the floor.

***

Hercules ran around the corner and came to a halt, swearing. Where the archway had been was a solid stone wall, blocking off the large chamber. He tapped his fist against it lightly, making sure it wasn't an illusion, but it felt real enough. "Iolaus!" he shouted. "Are you back there?"

"I'm right here."

He glanced back at the other Iolaus, who had followed at a safe distance and was watching him with trepidation. "No, not you, him!"

"Oh, right."

I really need to wake up, Hercules thought sourly. He raised his voice to an urgent bellow. "Iolaus! Can you hear me?" Then faintly, from the other side of the thick stone, he heard a frightened yell. "That's it," Hercules snarled. He fell back a pace, drawing back a fist, and punched the wall.

***

Iolaus' back hit the cold stone of the altar and the first manacle snapping around his wrist jolted him back to consciousness. He twisted, tried to throw himself off the altar, knowing his weight might jerk the chain out of the stone. But his body wouldn't cooperate, his limbs sluggishly refusing to move. Instead of a wild scramble off the altar, all he did was roll onto his side before Hercules caught his free arm.

He slammed Iolaus down onto his back, locking down his other wrist. Iolaus writhed, kicked, shouted, but he was trapped and Hercules easily caught his legs, locking his ankles into the manacles.

Hercules stepped away then, out of Iolaus' vision. Torn between rage and terror, Iolaus fought the chains. His nose was bloody from the blow that had knocked him nearly senseless, and it was hard to breathe. "I'm not Dahak, Dahak's dead! Jason!" He twisted his head around, craning his neck, but he couldn't see the others anymore. Screaming wouldn't help; he could hear somebody yelling, distant enough to be on the other side of one of the walls. He blinked sweat out of his eyes and saw Hercules standing over him again, holding a knife.

Iolaus stared at the blade, mesmerized. He whispered, "You can't do this." He heard a crash of stone breaking, a wall collapsing, then--

***

Iolaus jolted awake, gasping, curling into a ball around the pain in his chest. He caught sight of Hercules leaning over him and flinched. His body reacted without conscious thought, sending him scrambling a few feet away.

Startled, Hercules held up both hands, palms out. "It's all right, it's me."

"I know that," Iolaus said, breathing hard. His legs were tangled up in the blanket and he kicked it away, still braced to move. It was night and they were outside, in a clearing in a dark forest. The fire still burned and the strong scent of woodsmoke and damp earth, the sharp chill in the air, told him this was real. He was still holding his scabbarded sword and he tightened his grip on it; it felt solid too. But the dream and reality were so mixed up, he couldn't tell what had happened where.

"It was a dream," Hercules said, watching him worriedly. He was crouched a few feet away, his hair falling forward into his eyes, his shirt and vest stained with sweat.

Iolaus wiped an arm across his face and realized his nose wasn't bleeding. That it didn't hurt. That the tearing pain in his chest was gone. He took a deep breath. "Okay," he agreed cautiously.

Hercules saw with relief that Iolaus had started to relax. He looked less likely to bolt into the woods, at any rate. Hercules said, "I was there too. I don't know what--" Iolaus tensed again, every inch of his body braced for flight. "Wait, wait, wait," Hercules said hastily. "It was a dream, a nightmare."

"Right." Iolaus eased up into a crouch. His heart was still pounding, every nerve in his body urging him to run. It took an effort of will to stay where he was, just a few paces away from Hercules.

Hercules took a deep breath. "Look, it tried to make me think I was back...fighting Dahak. When it was in Corinth. But all the details were wrong, the temple didn't look the same, and Morrigan had those hired thugs she brought over here from Eire with her. What did it do to you?"

Iolaus still eyed him warily, but this was all starting to make a weird kind of sense. "It...You cut my heart out. Or you were going to."

Hercules stared, a cold wave of shock washing over him. "That's what I heard." I knew it was bad, but.... He saw the expression on Iolaus' face and said urgently, "That wasn't me. That wasn't my dream, I walked out of the altar chamber and then I couldn't get back in. I was with the other Iolaus--"

"Oh, of course you were," Iolaus snarled. That Hercules was hanging around with the other Iolaus while all this was going on was just freaking typical, but mostly what he felt was a profound relief. He shoved himself up to sit with his back against a tree, rubbing his eyes and passing a hand over his face. He remembered the other dreams now. "I saw the other Iolaus in a dream too, last night. It was the same temple, Morrigan was there--"

"We were in the same dream." Hercules shook his head, pushed his hair out of his eyes, trying to force his mind past the image of what had been going on behind that wall. "But you woke up before...it happened?"

Iolaus snorted. "Barely."

"And this was the same dream you had before?" Hercules demanded, incredulous. No wonder he kept looking at me funny. "You should have said something."

Iolaus glared at him. "It wasn't this same thing, it wasn't as bad." He gestured in frustration. "But it was definitely related to this. It was like I was seeing different parts of the same dream. Like it was building up to this." He rubbed his arms briskly; the rush of fear and anger was starting to fade, leaving him chilled. "So what's doing this to us? Is it something to do with me being dead?"

"I don't think this is about us." Hercules shook his head. "What would have happened if you hadn't woken?"

"It would have killed me for real, like when someone is pulled into the dreamworld?" Iolaus sat forward, frowning. "Wait, you think this is what's taking the villagers?"

Hercules nodded, his expression intent. "They were all alone, some went at night, some went during the day--"

Iolaus swore under his breath. He could see it now. "The potter's sister. She'd finished the washing, she'd made dinner, she was waiting for the others to come home...."

"She took a nap," Hercules finished. He looked away, taking a deep breath. "It must see into people's thoughts, their fears. Maybe that's what it feeds on."

Iolaus gestured in frustration. "So where do the people go? And what could do this?"

Hercules shook his head, his expression grim. "I don't have a clue."

***

It was still several hours before dawn, but the potter's family didn't seem to mind being hauled out of bed by a knock on the door. In the front room of their little house, the youngest boy built up the fire while the potter and her eldest son and daughter sat at the worn plank table with Hercules and Iolaus. Hercules was trying to be careful not to give them false hope; but after watching the local hunters search fruitlessly for any trace of the missing people, the fact that someone actually had questions to ask must seem like a revelation to them.

The potter, whose name was Laetia, pushed a strand of her graying hair back and shook her head. "Helene didn't say anything about any strange dreams, before-- Before it happened. As we said, she mostly stays home and takes care of the house while the girls and I are at the market and the boys are working in the fields for Priam."

Hercules kept his expression noncommittal, though he inwardly winced and he saw Iolaus look away. Laetia still spoke of her sister in the present tense. That's what makes these disappearances a living Tartarus. Not knowing if their friends or family members were dead or trapped somewhere was going to drive these people mad. He knew how he would have felt right now if he had woken to find Iolaus vanished without a trace. "That's the problem," he told them, "I'm not sure this is something she'd mention to you." After all, Iolaus hadn't. This creature might be adept at picking a scenario for the dream that the victim would be reluctant to talk about.

Iolaus leaned forward, saying, "Do you remember if she acted strangely? If she got up much earlier than usual, or if she seemed reluctant to go to sleep? Anything like that?" He hoped he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. He had searched for tracks by firelight around their campsite, and Hercules had not endeared himself to his partner during that process. First he had told Iolaus that it was useless to look for tracks because there wouldn't be any, then he had hopefully watched Iolaus look for tracks and said "Did you find anything?" about four hundred times. The only thing that had kept Iolaus from throwing something at his head was the fact that he knew Hercules hated dealing with an intangible he couldn't fight as much as Iolaus did. If these people could at least confirm that Helene had been plagued by something, it would be better than the void of information they had now.

Laetia bit her lip, thinking, while the older children just looked confused. The youngest daughter, sitting on a stool near the fire, said suddenly, "I woke up in the middle of the night--"

Hercules and Iolaus both turned toward her with such alacrity that she halted in confusion, looked down at the bare toes peeping out from under her tunic and blushed.

"Go on," Iolaus prompted gently, "You woke up in the middle of the night and she was awake?"

Her eyes still on her toes, the girl nodded. "She was crying. She said she had a bad dream."

"Crying?" Laetia turned to her, startled. "Why didn't you tell us about it?"

The girl looked up uncertainly. "She made me promise not to."

"When was this, do you remember?" Hercules asked her carefully.

"I'm not sure." The little girl bit her lip, thinking.

"What happened the next day?" Hercules suggested. It had been a long time, but he remembered how to get time estimates out of children too young to pay much attention to what day it was. "Did anyone come over to visit, did anything different happen?"

The girl kicked her feet, thinking that one over. "It was the night before Priam's cow had the calf."

The older boy drew a sharp breath. "That was the day before aunt Helene disappeared." He looked urgently from Iolaus to Hercules. "What does it mean?"

Hercules sat back, shaking his head. "We don't know yet." He threw a look at Iolaus, to make sure they were both thinking the same thing. "We need to talk to some of the others first."

***

"So it either creeps up on us -- or doesn't creep, or it does creep and it doesn't have any feet because I can't find any damn tracks -- and uses the dreamworld to get in our heads, and we can't see it or hear it-- How are we going to kill it?" Iolaus demanded, frustrated.

It was near dawn and the torches lit around the village's little dirt-packed plaza smoked in the damp air. They had spoken to two other families and found it was the same: both people who had vanished had admitted to strange dreams. Now the potter's family and the families of the elders were spreading the word to warn everyone about the dreams, but Iolaus wasn't sure if it would do much good. They could all only stay awake so long.

Hercules stopped pacing to stare pensively into the dark. "It has to be something from the dreamworld." He lifted a brow, adding grimly, "We've seen Morpheus make creatures like that before."

"Yeah." Iolaus scratched at the scar on his chest, thinking it over. Morpheus had let Ares and other gods use him in the past, usually in some effort to trap Hercules in the dreamworld. "So you could kill--" Iolaus realized some other god might be listening and rapidly shifted that to, "--ask Morpheus if he knows anything about this."

Hercules paused thoughtfully. "Uh huh. If Morpheus was involved in this in any way, it would make me very, very angry. And Artemis protects these villages, and she wouldn't like it either."

They both waited hopefully a moment, looking around, but the god of dreams failed to appear with either excuses or denials. Hercules let out a frustrated breath and started pacing again. "But why does it only take the villagers on this side of the river? A dreamworld creature could take anyone, anywhere."

"A dreamworld creature that has a limited range. Or that can't cross water. But also something that's only been here for the past few weeks." Iolaus looked out over the dark river, barely visible below the bluff. He felt trapped, as trapped as he had in the dream, where he was about to be killed for something he hadn't done, where no one, even Hercules, would listen to him. Except it didn't kill me. The first and second dreams seemed to imply that he had had his heart cut out at least once already. But in the dream I know I'm not Dahak. I know they're wrong. He rubbed his eyes, gritty from interrupted sleep. "And it made you fall asleep. That's not good."

Hercules nodded grimly. "I wasn't expecting it." He didn't intend to be caught off guard again. He threw a worried look at Iolaus. It was hard to tell in the flicker of firelight, but he thought Iolaus looked drawn and exhausted. "It seems more interested in you than me. It showed me a monster that was supposedly Dahak, but it didn't try to kill me. And it's been working on you for the past two days."

Iolaus shook his head, considering it. "I don't know. It might want to take us out one at a time." He looked up at Hercules, frustrated. "Are you absolutely sure you didn't have any weird dreams the past couple of nights?"

Hercules lifted an ironic brow. "I dreamed Salmoneus was trying to get me into a business selling Trojan war souvenirs in Parthia. I don't think that came from our creature."

"Guess not." Iolaus found himself yawning. He caught Hercules watching him worriedly and grimaced, trading a grim look with the demigod. Oh yeah, this is going to be fun. Hercules could go without sleep for a few days with no ill effects; Iolaus couldn't. "Maybe we're right that this thing has a limited range, and it couldn't get into your head until you got closer. Because you're a demigod."

"Maybe." Hercules looked thoughtful. "Look, in the dream I talked to the other Iolaus. I don't think that was part of the dream, I think he was really there."

Iolaus rolled his eyes. He was considering making a rude noise when Hercules added, "It's the only conversation I've ever had in a dream that still made sense when I woke up." He started pacing again as he warmed to his theory. "And you and he have a connection that has absolutely nothing to do with Dahak, but he never got pulled in to any of your other nightmares. I think this thing went after you and accidentally pulled him in too."

Iolaus frowned, reluctantly considering it. "In the second dream, he was the only one who would look at me at first." He flung his arms wide, exasperated. "Damn it, we don't know if it lives here or the dreamworld, we don't know if it's human or a monster."

Hercules paused, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought. "We know we can look for it in the dreamworld. Or I can."

Iolaus frowned at him. "What do you mean? You're going into the dreamworld after it?" Iolaus shook his head, incredulous. "You can't do that! That's-- That's-- And you're not going without me. And you can't do it anyway, there's no shrine to Morpheus for miles, and--"

"I know how to make Morpheus' dream powder," Hercules told him.

"What?"

"Cheiron showed me how, years ago."

"When?"

"When Ares used Morpheus to trap you and Jason and the others in-- Will you stop it?" Hercules glared at him. He knew Iolaus was playing for time, trying to think of a good argument against the plan. "There's no way you don't remember that."

Iolaus folded his arms, fuming. The dream powder Kheper and Asclepias made from scarab beetles was different: it slammed you on your back, showed you what your dreams meant, then slapped you awake again. Morpheus' dream powder actually let you enter the dreamworld; it gave you some control over it, but it was too easy for something to draw your physical body in after you, to trap you there forever. And even if your physical body stayed out of the dreamworld, a mortal injury you took there could kill you. "I didn't know Cheiron showed you how to make that stuff. What was he thinking?"

Hercules wasn't going to dignify that one with an answer. "The village healer should have everything I need to make it. And I'll need you to watch over me while I'm in the dreamworld."

Iolaus shook his head, settling firmly into stubborn mode. "I don't like this."

"No, really? I couldn't tell." Letting his breath out, Hercules took his shoulders, making Iolaus face him. As Iolaus frowned up at him through the fringe of tangled blond hair, he said patiently, "I have to be the one to go after it. From what happened to Helene and the others, we know it only takes a few nights' worth of dreams to do whatever it is that it does -- you've had three dreams already. I've only had the one, and it wasn't exactly a big success. If you go, it'll be like walking into a ghidra's mouth."

Iolaus pulled away, flinging his arms up. "That's what it's always like!"

Ignoring that valid objection, Hercules planted his hands on his hips and said pointedly, "And I want you out here. If this thing does have a physical presence in this world and it shows up while I'm not in my body--"

"Yeah, yeah." Iolaus dragged a hand through his hair. He didn't like it, but he had to admit that it was most likely they were dealing with a creature that moved between this world and the dreamworld. And Hercules had a point about needing someone to guard his body, and there was no one else he trusted to do that. "Okay, fine. It's still a lousy plan."

"I know that," Hercules agreed wryly. But they both knew they were running out of time.

***

Dawn was breaking by the time Hercules and the healer had assembled all the ingredients for the dream powder. They were in the healer's hut, and the old man watched Hercules carefully sort out the various herbs on the battered workbench. He shook his head, asking, "Are you certain that's going to do what you think it's going to do?"

Iolaus, pacing beside the fire, tried unsuccessfully to suppress a snort. He was glad he wasn't the only one who thought this was a bad idea. Unfortunately it was still the only idea.

Hercules' mouth quirked wryly as he added some dittany and crocus to the stone grinding bowl, well aware of the general opinion on dream powder. "I'm certain."

The old man sighed, giving Iolaus a pat on the back on his way to the door. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Iolaus muttered, then found himself yawning. He caught the concerned look Hercules threw at him and said, "I'll be fine. Just keep--" he gestured at the dream powder "--doing that."

Hercules returned to his task and Iolaus went back to pacing. The hut was small, the ceiling hung with bundles of drying plants and flowers, the walls covered with shelves holding dozens of little pottery jars. The only furniture was the workbench and a few stools. The hearth was small and crude and let smoke into the room, and that combined with the pungent odors of the healing ointments was making Iolaus' eyes water.

Outside, he could hear the worried murmur of voices, sleepy protests from children, as the villagers gathered in the open area between the huts, trying to keep each other awake. He took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes, trying to keep his mind off what would happen if this didn't work. "This thing.... It's obviously getting the material for the dreams from us, but it's controlling things too. There were moments when I could have changed what was happening, but something would go wrong." He was thinking about the sudden moment of weakness when he had tried to throw himself off the altar to snap the manacle chain; the timing on that had been way too good. And when the dream-Hercules had approached him, something had interfered with his memory, making it easy to fall into the trap. "Was it doing that to you?"

Hercules dusted his hands and took the pestle stone to grind the herbs together. "I think it was trying. It moved a wall to keep me out of--" He wasn't sure what made him look up. Some change in the air, a breath of something else in the fragrant confines of the hut.

Iolaus was standing by the fire, his expression distracted. "Iolaus," Hercules said sharply, still with no idea what had alarmed him. "Are you--"

Iolaus vanished.

Hercules surged to his feet and took a useless step forward. "Iolaus!"

There was nothing there. He swore, turning to stare around the hut. Nothing. For a furious instant he wanted to charge outside and hunt this thing down, but sense caught up to him a heartbeat later and he turned back to the workbench and the dream powder. Iolaus, though he had still been on his feet, must have been just close enough to sleep for the creature to reach him. It took him because it knew you were close. It's just trying to distract you.

His jaw set, he made himself work quickly but methodically, adding the rest of the herbs, grinding them into the powder. Finally it was done.

He took a pinch of the stuff and held it under his nose, inhaling deeply. For a moment he thought nothing was going to happen and frantically looked at the ingredients still spread out on the table, trying to see what he had left out. Then he felt a sudden lassitude, a weariness creeping up his limbs, and darkness crept in at the edges of his vision.

He didn't feel his head hit the table.

***

Iolaus slammed face-first into the stone floor. The thought flashed through his mind: this isn't real, this is a-- but it faded, and there was only the dark temple and the torchlight. They thought he was Dahak and they were trying to kill him. He levered himself up enough to look down at the wound in his chest. It was new and raw, the blood soaked into his torn shirt. With a gasp he tried to shove himself upright, but hands grabbed his arms and jerked him to his feet.

He shook his hair out of his eyes, finding himself facing Morrigan and at least a dozen of the Eirish mercenaries. He bared his teeth; obviously they weren't taking chances this time. He saw the other Iolaus, standing behind the others and looking bewildered, but he wasn't likely to be any help.

Morrigan, one eye blackened and her face bruised from their earlier battle, grimaced and said, "Get him in there. Hurry, before he turns into Dahak again."

Iolaus looked for what "in there" might be and saw a gaping black square in the wall. The torchlight couldn't seem to penetrate the dark opening, and the single man-sized block that closed it stood ready to be shoved into place. The tomb, he remembered, sick. They had tried to put him in there once before. "Are you out of your mind?" he snarled at Morrigan. "Dahak can walk through walls."

"I'm not listening to your lies," she replied, teeth gritted. She jerked her head at the men. "Go on, get him in there."

They shoved him forward toward the opening, more coming to help as he kicked and fought. He heard the other Iolaus shouting frantically, "No, you can't do this! Stop--" and Morrigan replying, "Don't try to interfere! If it wasn't for Hercules, I'd toss you in there after him."

They flung him through the opening and he hit the ground, rolling across cold stone paving. He tried to scramble to his feet but a sudden stabbing pain in his chest sent him sprawling again. He clawed at the blocks, gritting his teeth, his eyes watering at the pain, but he couldn't get to his feet. The Eirish men were shoving the block into place, the light was fading as it sunk more firmly into the doorway....

As the light died the pain vanished and Iolaus was able to shove to his feet. He threw himself against the block, but his weight was too slight to shift it. In darkness so thick it seemed to clog his lungs, he felt for the cracks and dug his fingers in, trying to get leverage, trying to pry it out. It was like trying to dig through a solid stone wall.

Finally Iolaus slid down the block, putting his back against it. His imagination made it hard to breathe, but it would be a long time before the air ran out. If that even mattered. I'm not dead. I don't belong in here, he told himself, trying to ignore the edge of desperation. And what was the point of getting out?

Morrigan may be this stupid, but Hercules knows this wouldn't stop Dahak for a heartbeat, he thought in despair. But this was a great way to dispose of a mortal who had been somehow infected by Dahak's power, who couldn't be killed. "I didn't betray you," he said stubbornly, though he knew no one could hear him through the stone. "I didn't do anything wrong, I don't deserve this." But he could hear the uncertainty in his own voice. He couldn't remember how he had gotten to this temple in the first place; he wasn't even sure he was in Greece. How could he be certain what he had or hadn't done?

He rubbed his face, feeling helpless. His eyes kept straining to see in the absolute darkness, and it was making his head pound. There has to be a way out. I'm not going to be stuck here forever. He knew that wasn't true even as he thought it, but he pushed himself up and started to search the chamber by feel.

There was nothing but bare walls, as far up as he could reach. It seemed to take a long time, hours of groping around in the dark, but he knew from his brief glimpse of the place before the door had slammed shut that it wasn't a large chamber at all. Finally he came back around to the door block, identifying it by the faint gap in the stone and the whisper of air from the corridor, and he leaned against it, weary and sick and a little dizzy. I've been here days.... No, that's impossible. I just got here. Maybe the air was going bad, affecting his perceptions. He pressed as close as he could to the minuscule gap and tried to breathe in the fresher air of the corridor. Perversely, it just seemed to make his confusion worse.

It hurt to think. Forcing himself to keep moving, he put his back to the door and started carefully across the room, meaning to pace it off. But after ten paces he stubbed his toes on a stone object. Frowning, he felt around, trying to figure out what it was. It had smooth stone sides, and was too long to be a pedestal for an urn. The top was open, like a big stone trough. Abruptly he realized what it was and jerked his hands back. It was a sarcophagus, the top sealed with a heavy block of stone.

He didn't realize he was backing away until bumped into the wall. He swallowed in a dry throat. So is that for me? Or is there something in there?

He knew he had plenty of time to find out.

***

Hercules found himself standing in the torchlit temple corridor again. He took a deep breath, shouting, "Iolaus!" There was no point in attempting to conceal his presence; the creature must have known exactly what he had been about to do or it wouldn't have taken Iolaus.

He heard a distant shout from down the corridor and started in that direction, lengthening his stride to a run. The dark corridor turned twice, then someone blond and the right height barrelled around the next corner and slammed into him, bouncing off his chest. Hercules grabbed his shoulders in relief. "Iolaus!"

"Hercules?" The man looked up at him uncertainly.

Getting a clear look at his face in the light of the nearest torch, Hercules thought in frustration, Wrong one. This was the other Iolaus. Even though both men had the same sickle-shaped scar on their foreheads, it was easy to tell the difference between them, at least for Hercules. The faint lines around this man's eyes and mouth were all from pain and tension, not laughter. "It's me," Hercules said quickly, "I used dream powder to get back here."

"It's still a dream, right? It's not real?" the other Iolaus demanded anxiously, stepping back as Hercules released him. He shook his head, distracted and frightened. "I keep forgetting that, this time. I can't remember where I was or what happened before--"

That's not good. "It's a dream, believe me. There's some creature or something here that's pulling people into the dreamworld. It managed to get Iolaus just before I was finished with the dream powder, and since you two are connected, it keeps pulling you in too." He started to put a hand on the man's shoulder and managed to stop himself just in time; this Iolaus didn't like to be touched. "Have you seen Iolaus? Or anyone else?"

"I don't--" Iolaus looked up at him, confused. "Did you just get here? And Iolaus...disappeared just before you came?"

Hercules nodded, trying to keep the impatience out of his tone. "Yes, why?"

"I've been here for hours, maybe days.... At least I think I have. I just can't--" He pressed his hands to his face, as if trying to get control of himself. "I was at home, I went to sleep, then I was here. It can't be days."

Hercules took a sharp breath. He was asleep. That explains how this creature was able to grab Iolaus. It must have been able to touch the sleeping mind of the other Iolaus, and used the connection between the two men to pull his Iolaus into the dreamworld. "It's only been a half hour at most since Iolaus disappeared. Something's manipulating time here for you, making it seem longer." Hercules set his jaw. Whatever was doing this, it was going to regret it. "Do you have any idea where Iolaus is?"

"Yes, I'm sure I saw him, but everything's so confused, like it's all just a mass of images." He bit his lip, concentrating. "I saw that woman, Morrigan, and the others-- Yes!" He looked up urgently, gesturing back down the corridor. "There's a tomb, back there somewhere, they locked him up in it--"

Hercules was already moving.

***

Hercules rounded the corner and found himself in a larger room, surrounded by the Eirish mercenaries and Morrigan. Jason, Nebula and Zarathustra weren't here; apparently whoever was controlling the dreamworld had dropped the pretense that this was Dahak's temple in Corinth. The chamber had a low ceiling and was smoky from the torches, the red-lit shadows jumping on the stone walls. Hercules scanned the room but with the dim light and the haze he couldn't see anything like a tomb entrance. "Where is he?" he demanded.

Morrigan stared at him blankly for a moment, then shoved in front of him, saying, "Why? You know this is for the best!" The mercenaries muttered threats, stirring uneasily.

"This is a nightmare." Hercules couldn't tell if the Morrigan of his imagination was more annoying than the real one had become or less. "Now tell me where he is or I'll knock this whole place down." The other Iolaus was hovering uneasily at the edge of the group; Hercules caught his eye and inclined his head toward the back of the chamber, hoping he got the message. Hercules knew Morrigan wouldn't tell him anything, but he could keep her distracted and give the other Iolaus the chance to remember where the tomb was.

The other Iolaus nodded, enlightened, and darted toward the far wall. He yelped as one of the mercenaries snarled and grabbed his arm, yanking him back. With a grimace, Hercules reached out and took the mercenary by the neck, giving him a shake hard enough to make the mailed shirt under his leather tunic jingle. The man let go of the other Iolaus, who bolted for the wall. Hercules dropped the mercenary and the man collapsed on the floor, gasping. Since these weren't real people, he saw no particular reason to employ self-restraint. He told Morrigan with grim emphasis, "You need to tell your men to stay out of the way."

"You've gone mad," she said, staring at him in horror. "Dahak has turned your mind."

Hercules just glared at her in annoyance. The other Iolaus was moving along the far wall, running his fingers down the cracks in the stone. "Here!" he said suddenly, stepping back and throwing an urgent look at Hercules, "I think it's here."

Morrigan proved that theory by gasping and flinging herself in front of that section of stone.

Hercules strode forward, shaking off her attempt to grab his arm, and slammed his fist into the stone.

Before the dust settled, something bolted out of the dark gap. If it hadn't tripped over the scattered rubble, Hercules wouldn't have seen it was Iolaus in time to stop him.

Iolaus staggered, then lunged for freedom. Hercules managed to dodge into his path, catching him around the waist.

For a moment it was like trying to wrestle a young lion without hurting it. A very strong, agile young lion that wasn't adverse to eye-gouging and hitting below the belt. And the black silk thing he was wearing was damn slippery.

Morrigan was shouting and two of her men ran at Hercules. He didn't bother to find out their intentions, sparing one arm to slam them away. With a punch that would have smashed his nose if it had landed squarely, Iolaus almost managed to twist free. Gritting his teeth, Hercules swung him around, pinning him face first against the wall with an arm around his neck. Morrigan was still shouting and he snapped, "Morrigan, shut up! Iolaus, stop that right now!"

For a wonder, they both did, and the other Iolaus flinched for good measure. Hercules continued grimly, "Morrigan, tell your men to stay back. I--" Iolaus, recovering more quickly, sunk his teeth into Hercules' arm. Luckily, he couldn't quite reach the artery he had been aiming for. Cursing, Hercules, shifted just enough to grab a handful of hair and wrench his head back. He finished, "I don't want to kill anyone. For the moment."

Iolaus muttered, "Ow," which Hercules heard with relief. It was the first coherent sound he had made.

Morrigan pushed forward, saying, "Hercules, what are you doing? You know what he is! You were the one who told us to put him in there."

Hercules gritted his teeth, managing to hold Iolaus despite his partner's desperate attempt to break free. Making a massive effort to sound calm, he said to Morrigan, "Take your men and get out of here."

She hesitated, confusion crossing her sharp features. Hercules didn't like this, even though he knew this wasn't the real Morrigan, just an image conjured up from his memories, but he made himself smile reassuringly at her. Forcing warmth into his voice, he said, "You have to trust me, Morrigan. I know what I'm doing. Zarathustra said I was the only one who could kill Dahak, remember?" He felt Iolaus, pinned between the wall and his chest, quiver in rage and betrayal. But he continued relentlessly, "Now I need you to help me by taking your men away."

She hesitated, still confused, but she finally nodded. "Yes, Hercules. But we'll be close by."

That's what I'm afraid of, Hercules thought grimly, watching until she and her men disappeared down the dark corridor. Keeping his voice low, he said hurriedly, "Iolaus, this is a dream, do you remember that? The village, the disappearances, I was going to make the dream powder--" Hercules felt the tension in Iolaus' body relax just a little and thought he was listening, and must have unconsciously loosened his hold.

He realized a heartbeat later that Iolaus had just been gathering his strength.

Hercules staggered back a step as Iolaus shoved off from the wall and twisted away from him. Hercules lunged and made a wild grab, catching his arm. He hastily blocked a punch, pinning Iolaus back against the wall.

Hercules gripped Iolaus' chin, forcing his head up. His eyes were blue, reddened from the smoke and narrow with fear and rage. That was a relief; after all this Hercules had half-expected to see Dahak's eyes. Hercules would have known it for a trick of the dreamworld, but it was still a mercy not to have to deal with it. Iolaus twisted violently and holding him without having to break something was rapidly becoming impossible. Through gritted teeth, Hercules said, "I know you're not Dahak."

Iolaus went still, watching him with deep suspicion. Hercules continued, "Something is doing this to us, controlling the dreamworld, trying to get us to kill each other. Now you can either trust me, or not. But I'm not going to hurt you."

He stepped back, relaxing his grip. Iolaus spun out of reach into a dive and roll, coming back to his feet with a sword. The black robe had torn, hanging off his shoulder and revealing the raw red scar down the center of his chest. His expression was utterly feral.

Hercules hadn't seen the weapon lying there; granted, he had been distracted, but he was fairly sure there had been nothing on the floor. Something had obviously put it there for Iolaus to find. Hercules watched him for a moment, then deliberately turned his back.

He saw the other Iolaus, flattened back against the wall, his expression terrified. But he always gets so upset when he sees us fight, he thought, irrelevantly. The moment stretched. Hercules knew Iolaus wouldn't kill him, knew it in his bones. But as angry and frightened and confused as Iolaus was, the demigod wouldn't have been surprised to at least get stabbed in a non fatal spot. But nothing happened.

Hercules had to look over his shoulder. Iolaus was breathing hard from the fight, watching him warily. In the torn black silk, he looked almost as slight as the ex-Jester; except he held the sword like a man who meant to use it. Hercules said deliberately, "I know this seems real, but it's a--"

The wall burst outward, knocking him flat on his back. He lay for a moment, stunned, realizing the pressure on his chest was rubble from the broken wall.

Dazed, Hercules pushed the crumbling stone away; the roaring in his ears wasn't from the impact. Something was shoving its way into the chamber, clawing at what remained of the wall, something large. The thought that both Iolauses were in the room behind him, maybe stunned or trapped by the fallen stone, brought him to his feet even though his head still swam.

The thing framed in the shattered remains of the wall was vaguely like an insect, with faceted eyes and jaw mandibles, but it also had tentacles, and there was something lizard-like in the sheen of its skin. It had the same resemblance to the fake Dahak monster from the last dream that a sea monster had to a grass snake.

Hercules grimaced, saying, "It's you, isn't it? You're the one who's doing this." This thing had a reality that cast the rest of this dreamworld place into shade. He knew he was looking at the creature who had taken the villagers, taken Iolaus and imprisoned them all here. It must have gotten tired of waiting for Iolaus to kill him, and decided to take matters into its own hands.

It's about damn time, Hercules thought. He scooped up a large fragment of wall and slung it at the creature's head, then threw himself forward.

***

Iolaus flung an arm up to shield his face, staggering back from the rain of dust and rock. Shaking flakes of stone out of his hair, he looked up and gasped.

Hercules wrestled with a horrific creature that seemed made up of elements of every monster they had ever faced. The demigod stood nearly knee-dip in stone rubble, gripping the edges of the giant creature's sharp mandible, trying to keep it from closing around his head. The thing had tentacles as well, using them to grip the edges of the broken wall and hold itself in place. Am I dreaming this? Iolaus felt dazed and drained, as if he had been drugged. He was dressed like he normally was, in his battered leathers, and for some reason that was a surprise. And he was holding a sword, though it wasn't his. He didn't have a clue how he had gotten here.

Iolaus shoved himself upright, stumbling over the broken stone. The room seemed suddenly full of people; not Morrigan and her Eirish guards, but ordinary people, men and women, old and young, dressed in plain wool workclothes or leathers-- The villagers, he remembered suddenly. We were looking for these people and they were here all along. He saw the other Iolaus, crouched beside the intact wall, dazed and trying to stand. The man pointed suddenly, calling out, and Iolaus looked back at Hercules.

The demigod tried to wrench the creature's head around, but Iolaus saw a long tail lifting up, just past the bulk of its mottled amalgam of a body. The tail had the dripping spines of a ghidra's stinger.

Suddenly it didn't matter if this was a dream or not. With a warning shout, Iolaus lunged forward, leaping over the rubble. Just as the stinger dropped toward Hercules, Iolaus swept his blade up. The metal struck flesh, severing the stinger right off the end of the tail. Wow, Iolaus thought, grinning as he dodged a flailing tentacle. That was a perfect stroke. This has to be a dream.

Hercules saw him and wrenched the creature's head up, ignoring the tentacles that snatched at him. "Iolaus, here!" he shouted desperately.

Iolaus saw the demigod had managed to lift the creature so its chest was visible. It was armored with heavy scales, like a dragon. Bad choice, he thought to whoever had made up this bizarre creature. The heavy plates on a dragon's chest and belly were meant to withstand attacks by the large claws and teeth of other dragons, not swordblades. Iolaus dodged in and drove the sword into the soft tissue between the scales, right to where the creature's heart should be.

And everything went suddenly black.

***

Iolaus blinked, shaking his head. He lay in wet grass, staring up at a gray dawn sky. Bewildered, he shoved himself upright. The sun was just rising past the mountains and he was in a grassy field dotted with trees. It ended at a bluff not far away, overlooking the wide river channel, gleaming placidly under the dawn light. A little to the west, the village looked down from its higher plateau, smoke from early morning cookfires rising into the sky. Other people, at least a couple of dozen of them, were sprawled in the grass around him, some just beginning to stir, others sitting up and looking around with confused expressions that mirrored Iolaus'.

Memory returned in a sudden flood. The dreamworld! We were in the dreamworld. Iolaus shoved to his feet, shouting, "Hercules?"

"Here." Iolaus spun around to see Hercules standing not twenty paces away, looking down at something that lay in the long grass.

Iolaus ran to stand at his side, asking worriedly, "You okay?"

Hercules rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed in weary relief. "I'm fine now."

He was looking down at the body of a ruinously old man, dressed in layers of ragged robes. "He didn't make it," Iolaus said, looking around vaguely. "The others did, or most of them." He supposed they would have to look at Thene's list before they could make certain.

"No, it was him." Hercules nudged Iolaus' arm, bringing his wandering attention back to the corpse. "Look at the wound in his chest."

Iolaus frowned, stepping forward and kneeling beside the body. The man's gnarled hands were clutched at his chest, and looking closely he could see the well of blood from a swordthrust. "I did that?" he said, startled. "He was the monster?"

He felt a light touch on his shoulder and looked up to see a woman standing beside them, steadying herself on him as she leaned down to look at the corpse. It was hard to tell her age but her brown hair was graying and there were faint lines from laughter and strain etched into her face. "It's the hermit," she said in surprise. "The old man who came to live here a few months ago. He used to come to our house, to complain about my sister's pottery. He disappeared." She blinked, straightening up. "I disappeared. I had dreams, and one night I-- Couldn't wake up."

"When you say it was him," Iolaus asked, looking back at Hercules, "you mean it was him, all along?"

Hercules was nodding. With a grunt of effort, he knelt down beside the body, tugging the tattered and filthy robes aside. He found a pouch attached to the man's belt and pulled it off. Opening it, he nodded to himself, and showed the contents to Iolaus and the woman. "Dream powder," he told them grimly. "It was him all along."

***

The villagers gave them a whole hut to themselves for the night, and the way Hercules felt, he wasn't going to argue with them. The battle in the dreamworld had left him far more weary than if it had happened in the real world. And he knew they would need to get on the road early tomorrow; they would have to go to Athens to visit the other Iolaus, and explain what had happened.

Iolaus was lying on a sheepskin rug beside the fire, his head propped up on a pack and his boots and gauntlets off, yawning. Being in the dreamworld wasn't exactly the equivalent of a restful sleep. Iolaus felt like he had spent the past few days defending a battlement. The villagers who had returned with him seemed to feel the same; the sound of noisy celebrations outside had gradually died down to quiet talk and the occasional laugh. He wondered if the other Iolaus, who must have woken back in his home in Athens, knew that this had all been real or if he thought it was just a strange series of dreams.

Thene, the headman Berias, and some of the other elders had been here earlier, still trying to understand. "You were right," Hercules had told them with a shrug. He had been sitting near the fire, where Thene was warming wine for them. "When the disappearances first started, you all thought it had to be a lone traveler, gone mad and killing people. The only thing you were wrong about was the method."

Thene shook her head, setting the strainer aside. "He was a very unpleasant man, and you could tell he was a little wrong in the head, the way he raved at people and never seemed to bathe. But I never suspected him of this." She lifted her brows. "I suppose the fact that he disappeared too helped."

"He was always a very hateful man, that was obvious even on short acquaintance," Berias said thoughtfully. "I suppose he just started sending evil dreams to the people he saw at the market, that he took a dislike to."

Hercules nodded. "That's why no one was taken from the villages and farms on the other side of the river. He never met any of them."

"And no young kids," Iolaus added around a yawn. "They would have been at home, doing chores, doing lessons, and he never noticed them."

"Being in the dreamworld with the dream powder gave him access to all your thoughts, to a limited extent," Hercules told them. "He knew you had sent for help to Liatres, and when we came within range, he knew he had to stop us." He sighed, rolling a shoulder he had strained fighting with the old man's monster incarnation. "He'd probably been in the dream world physically so long himself, he was becoming a creature of it, losing his connection to this world."

"But how did he know how to make the dream powder in the first place?" the healer asked, bewildered. "Isn't that secret knowledge, known only to the gods and--" he inclined his head toward Hercules "--people like you?"

Hercules gestured helplessly and started to answer, but one of the other elders cleared his throat. "Apparently," the elder said, "There was a rumor in the other village that when the man first came here he told a few people that he was a priest of Morpheus. I've heard the priests often make the dream powder for the outlying temples."

Iolaus rolled his eyes, Hercules rubbed his forehead wearily, and Thene and the others stared at the elder. "Why didn't someone say that before?" Thene demanded.

The elder spread his hands. "We didn't know about the dreams! No one knew it was important."

Now, after everyone had left, and Iolaus was comfortably full of the warm wine and drifting toward sleep, he said, "So you think he was kicked out of a temple for being crazy? Isn't that kind of difficult for a priest of Morpheus? I mean, it's not like you have to be crazy to be a priest of Morpheus, but it probably doesn't hurt...."

"There's crazy and there's crazy," Hercules pointed out. "This must have been the kind of crazy that even they didn't like." He sat up to put another log on the fire. His back still hurt from wrestling with the old man's dream form, and the warmth of the hut was entirely welcome. The woman who had been standing next to them in the field had been Helene, the potter's sister, and returning her and the others to their families had been worth everything. He hoped Iolaus felt the same. His experiences had been far worse than Hercules'.

Trying to find a way to edge into asking if that was the case, Hercules said absently, "Even with everything that happened, we were lucky he took you into the dreamworld. Since he had made himself part of it, I'm not sure I would have been able to kill him, with my physical body still here. But since he'd made you and the others part of it too, you were able to kill him. You think that's--" He glanced up.

Curled up on the sheepskin, Iolaus was sound asleep.

end

Please post a comment on this story.
Read posted comments.