The Ninth Plague

Part 1: Greece

"I even remember Iolaus. He used to hang around some big guy...uh...name escapes me." The Lost City

"So, what was in the letter?" Iolaus asked, picking up his wine cup. He and Hercules were sitting at a rough plank table in the shady yard of an outdoor tavern in Lechaeum. The afternoon sun was bright and the breeze cool, stirring the leaves on the beech trees. There were only a few customers at the other tables, travelling merchants and some locals. The diners occasionally called greetings to the people who came along the path up from the village, a cluster of houses around a fountain square just down the hill. It was a pleasant place and the food -- roast fowl and a lentil stew -- was the best they had had in a long time. After weeks of travelling through the mountains hunting bandits and one bad-tempered giant, it was a pleasant novelty to eat something that they hadn't had to stalk and kill.

"Letter?" Hercules stared blankly at him.

Iolaus took a swig of wine and set the cup aside. "The one from Iphicles." A courier from Corinth had finally caught up with them this morning to deliver it; from the weary look of the man, he had been pursuing them for some time.

"Iphicles?"

Preoccupied with scraping up the last of the stew with a hunk of bread, Iolaus prompted absently, "Big dark-haired guy, King of Corinth, your brother?" He added in exasperation, "The letter in your hand?"

Hercules looked down at the object in question, as if he had forgotten its existence. Brow creased, he said slowly, "It's not from Iphicles."

"Oh." Iolaus frowned slightly, his attention finally shifting from the food to the conversation. He regarded Hercules thoughtfully. "It's got the palace seal on it."

"Iphicles sent it for someone. It's his seal but the enclosure isn't from him." Hercules folded the parchment, still distractedly frowning at it.

Iolaus was beginning to get genuinely worried. He knew how to recognize Hercules in I don't want to tell you something that will upset you but I can't in good conscience keep quiet about it so I'll just seize up, unable to resolve this dilemma mode. He suggested uneasily, "Nobody's dead, are they?"

"No, no," Hercules said hastily. "It's not...bad news." He turned the folded letter over, running a thumb along the crease.

If it wasn't bad news, it was doing a damn good impression of it. Iolaus was half-tempted to just grab the letter and get it over with, but maybe he really didn't want to know the contents. "But it's not good news?" he persisted, watching Hercules warily.

"It's definitely news." Hercules drew a deep breath, wincing in apologetic anticipation, and took the plunge. "It's from Nebula. She's coming to Corinth."

Iolaus sat back on the bench. He felt like someone had punched him in the kidney. Actually a punch in the kidney would have been preferable, since he knew exactly how to react to that. "Oh."

"Or--" Hercules glanced at the folded letter again, as if he hadn't already memorized it, "Considering when this was written, she's probably already there." He winced again.

Iolaus picked up his wine cup, saw it was empty, and put it down. He didn't know how he felt. "It's an embassy, from Sumeria to Corinth." Maybe it was just that, maybe the letter was to explain that she didn't think they should see each other.

Hercules nodded. "And she wants to see you."

Iolaus still didn't know how he felt, so he decided to go with his gut reaction. He shook his head. "I can't."

Hercules thought about it a moment, then said carefully, "I think you should try."

Iolaus got up and strode a few steps away, leaning against the nearest tree, looking out over the forested hill, the river, the prosperous little village, seeing none of it. He had told Hercules once that he blamed himself for what had happened, so he knew Nebula should blame him too. And that maybe he blamed her, whether he should or not. "Why can't she just stay in Sumeria and I stay here?" he demanded, frustrated. "That's worked out really well so far."

"You have a lot of things...unfinished between you. Maybe it wears on her." Hercules eyed Iolaus thoughtfully. "I know it wears on you."

Iolaus threw him an irritated look. "I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me." After a moment of steady regard from Hercules, he added defensively, "Anymore."

Hercules let his breath out, leaning back and folding his arms. "It's up to you."

Iolaus swore under his breath. That's the problem. For a moment he wished that Hercules was the kind of demigod who would have destroyed the letter, taking the decision away from him for his own good. Except if that was the case Iolaus admitted that he probably wouldn't be here right now, having stormed off in a fury some twenty-odd years ago. "This is hard, all right?"

"I know." Hercules hesitated, absently rubbing at a scar on the wine-stained tabletop. "What do you think is going to happen?"

Iolaus ran a hand through his hair in frustration. At worst, he thought Nebula would accuse him of cooperating with Dahak, of willingly letting it use him, and he would have to take responsibility for a lot of things he hadn't done, couldn't remember, and would rather cut a couple of his own limbs off than have done. At the other worst, he thought he would try to explain what had happened, she wouldn't believe him, he would get angry, and it would all go to Tartarus from there. At best.... There wasn't an at best. "I don't know. If I knew--" If he knew, it would still be something he had to do. "I hate it when you're right about things like this," he snarled unfairly at Hercules. "It's so damn inevitable!"

Hercules nodded glum agreement, which didn't help at all.

***

The palace of Corinth had a postern gate in the side wall, reached by a wide dirt path through an olive grove. It was late afternoon when Hercules and Iolaus reached it and the ground was dusty and sun-dappled under the trees. It was a great day for fishing, or swimming off the long beaches that framed the harbor entrance, or for having a late lunch in one of the taverns near the river and taking a wineskin off under the trees for a nap. Though Iolaus admitted to himself that he would have cheerfully accepted an invitation to muck out a pen full of incontinent pigs rather than have this meeting.

The guards at the gate spotted them and swung the wooden portal open as soon as the two men turned down the path.

"Hercules, Iolaus," one hailed them. "Good to see you back. catch anything big?"

"Well, there was a giant in Arcadia," Iolaus said, stopping and leaning on his sword, prepared to tell the entire story in detail.

"We'll have to tell you about it later." Smiling at the guards, Hercules firmly took Iolaus by the shoulder and steered him through the gate. He knew Iolaus didn't actually need the push, since if he was really dead-set against this they would still be in Lechaeum with Hercules searching futilely through the forest for him. But if it made the last few steps any easier for his partner, he was willing.

The postern gate opened into a tree-shaded court, paved with gray stone, with a blue-tiled fountain in the center. On the opposite side a set of steps led up to a columned portico; it was a less grand entrance than the main court at the front of the palace, but it was the one that had always been used by family and close retainers. Looking at that entrance where carved double doors stood open to the breeze, Iolaus stopped without quite knowing he had. "Hey, why don't I...." He trailed off, unable to think of anything to go after "I."

Hercules regarded him. He didn't think delay would make it any easier, but Iolaus looked like he was going to be genuinely ill. Maybe Hercules could talk to Nebula first, at least find out how she felt. And if it was as bad as Iolaus thought it was going to be, maybe he could think of something to do about it. He couldn't imagine what that something would be, but there was always the possibility. "Why don't you wait while I go tell Iphicles we're here, find out what he thinks of the situation?" he suggested.

Iolaus nodded gratefully. "Yeah, that."

With a sigh, Hercules clapped him on the shoulder and went on up the steps to the portico and into the palace.

Iolaus paced back and forth distractedly, sword propped on his shoulder. Finally he leaned the weapon against the fountain's rim and sat next to it, burying his face in his hands. This was a mistake; putting it off wouldn't help. You should have gone on inside, gotten it over with. He knew that, but he was still sitting here. "You are a complete idiot," he said aloud.

Then he heard a quiet step behind him. He knew it was her, felt a thrill of awareness travel up his spine just before she said, "Iolaus."

He twisted around, put a hand in the fountain, nearly overbalanced and tumbled into it, recovered and bounced to his feet, tripped over his scabbard, nearly went into the fountain again, recovered and made it upright. Breathing hard, he said, "Nebula."

She was standing not ten paces away, staring at him. "It's really you," she said. Her voice was thick with some emotion, but he couldn't tell which one.

I forgot how beautiful she is, Iolaus thought, numb. She was dressed as a Queen instead of warrior, in loose pants and a tight bodice of red and gold silk, more gold on her armbands and earrings, and a ruby at her throat, bright against the dark honey of her skin. He made himself take a breath. "It's me," he said, possibly unnecessarily.

She said urgently, "I need to tell you--" She stopped, then shook her head, blinking, her expression suddenly going blank, as if she had forgotten what she was going to say. She winced. "You-- There's--"

"There you are. I wondered where you'd gone." The man was strolling toward them from the other side of the court, smiling amiably. He was tall, hawk-featured but handsome, speaking Greek with no trace of an accent. He wore courtier's clothes too, black pants and a dark blue sleeveless shirt, a knife with a jeweled hilt thrust through the sash at his waist. He stopped beside Nebula, putting a casual but possessive arm around her waist.

Iolaus gritted his teeth, managing not to swear at the interruption, or even to knock the guy on the head with his swordhilt and dump him in the fountain. He realized he was waiting for Nebula to at least jab the intruder with her elbow, or possibly pull a knife on him. Instead she did neither, just looked up at him mutely. Since nobody was apparently going to say anything else, Iolaus demanded, "Who are you?"

The man lifted his brows. "I could ask the same of you."

"You could, but I'm here to talk to her." Iolaus couldn't believe Nebula was still standing there, letting this guy talk for her. For Nebula the Queen it was improbable, for Nebula the pirate captain it was unimaginable.

"Oh, and does she want to talk to you?" The stranger was still smiling, as if the words were a joke.

Iolaus hesitated, but Nebula didn't give him any hint at all. "She sent Hercules a letter...." He looked urgently at her, hoping she would take it from there, but she didn't even look around. He still had no idea what to say. Look, we have to have an argument that has no solution, no answers, and no hope of resolution, that will probably leave us both emotionally devastated, so can you just go to Tartarus and let us get on with it? He didn't think that would help.

The man was eyeing him with amused speculation. "So you're Hercules?"

"No!" Iolaus stared at him, outraged. "No, I'm Iolaus. Why would I talk about myself in the third person? I'm not that crazy. I'm actually not crazy at all--"

"I'm Hercules," the demigod himself interrupted from across the court. Iolaus managed to clamp his jaw shut, breathing hard through his nose. He knew the man had been about to laugh at him, and he knew he would have killed him. Hercules was crossing the court from the portico, asking, "Who are you?"

"I tried that," Iolaus muttered, glancing up as his partner reached his side.

Still holding onto Nebula, the man gave Hercules a little half-bow. "I'm Davrios of Thera. We've come to negotiate for trade concessions for Sumeria."

"We?" Hercules and Iolaus both said in unison, both looking at Nebula.

She glanced up at Davrios, and at his slight nod, said, "Yes. Davrios is my advisor." She added belatedly, "Hello, Hercules."

"Hello," Hercules answered, studying her sharply.

Iolaus clapped a hand to his forehead in frustration. Okay, fine. He's Davrios, her advisor. So why the fuck couldn't he tell me that? Controlling himself with an effort worthy of Atlas supporting the world, he said tightly, "Nebula, you said you wanted to tell me something. Can we go somewhere and get it over - I mean, do that now?"

Davrios looked down at her, lifting a brow inquiringly. Nebula swallowed uncomfortably, obviously ill at ease. "Not right now," she said. "I have to-- We'll speak later."

She turned abruptly and walked away. Iolaus watched her go, stunned by the sudden dismissal. He couldn't believe she had come all this way and was willing to put the confrontation off. Then Davrios said, "I suppose you have unfinished business with her. After the...ah, events concerning Dahak."

Iolaus threw him a dark look, stung with the thought of what Nebula might have told this man.

Hercules had been watching Nebula's departure with a startled frown. Now he turned a deliberately arrogant gaze on Davrios and, with that "I'm the Son of Zeus and everybody I meet is an idiot" tone in his voice, said, "If there is unfinished 'business,' it's her concern, not yours."

Still smiling faintly, Davrios gave him a nod of mock concession, then followed Nebula.

***

Iphicles had left instructions for them to wait in the solar, a private retiring room behind the throne room. It had large windows looking out over the bay and the olive groves along this side of the palace wall. It was furnished simply with a few sheepskin rugs and some carved chairs with threadbare cushions. King Aeson's sword and shield were still displayed on the wall in the throne room, but in here it was Amphitryon's sword that hung in the place of honor over the hearth.

Iolaus had managed to keep quiet until the servant who had led them here left, but then he rounded on Hercules and demanded, "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Hercules, startled out of beginning a tirade against Davrios that had been building up since leaving the court, stared at him blankly. "No. What? No."

"About Nebula?"

Hercules rolled his eyes, exasperated. "I'm going to need a better hint than that."

"That Dahak did something to her brain and now she's like--" Iolaus gestured helplessly. "Weird, now?"

"No! Of course not!"

Iolaus deflated a little. "So she's doing that deliberately. Acting like that."

"I...." Hercules looked away, admitting reluctantly, "Yes, I think she is."

Iolaus paced in front of the windows. "She obviously doesn't want to talk to me."

"Then why did she come all this way?" Hercules demanded. He pulled the folded letter out of his vest as evidence. "Why did she write me to say she wanted to see you?"

Iolaus threw his arms in the air, shouting, "How in Tartarus should I know?" He paced back and forth, then stopped at the window, rubbing his eyes. "You don't think...."

Hercules, glaring in mute frustration at the hearth, looked up. "What?"

"That she's going to be like Morrigan?"

That name still had the power to make Hercules grit his teeth. "What do you mean?"

Iolaus shrugged impatiently. "I mean that she lured us here because she thinks I'm Dahak and wants to kill me to clear the way to making a pass at you."

Hercules stared at him, his expression suggesting that Iolaus had gone completely insane. "You realize the first part of that sentence had no logical relationship to the second part."

Iolaus swore, running a hand through his hair. "I know that! It's what the other Iolaus said Morrigan was there for. And I was right about the first part."

Hercules rubbed his forehead, trying to quell the incipient headache. "That's about all I need," he muttered. If Iolaus was going to catch Other Iolaus' well-earned tendency for paranoia, maybe avoiding each other was really best for the two of them after all.

"What?" Iolaus demanded suspiciously.

"Nothing," he said hastily. He shook his head. "I just don't think Nebula would do something like that. She's not..." Not rigid enough in her thinking to fall for the same kind of trick Morrigan had fallen for. If she really had suspicions, she would want to talk to Iolaus and see for herself. Of course, she had had the opportunity to do that and failed.

He couldn't imagine she was afraid. As painful as the subject must be to her, she wasn't a coward. Like Iolaus, she should be anxious to have it over and settled. And despite her sometimes prickly exterior, Hercules liked her. He let his breath out, admitting to himself that he just didn't want to be betrayed again by someone he had called friend.

Iolaus nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. She's not easily led." He gestured, frustrated. "I'm just desperate for an explanation. Any explanation. Why drag us all here for this?"

Hercules nodded, pressing his lips together. "Good question."

Iphicles stepped in through the curtained door then, pulling his crown off and shaking out his dark hair. His slightly sour gaze took in both of them. "I take it this was a surprise to you as well?"

"Surprise is one way to put it," Hercules told him grimly.

"So who is this Davrios guy?" Iolaus asked him uneasily.

Iphicles dropped into one of the chairs near the hearth, considering the question. "He's apparently negotiating for her, but as far as I can tell, he doesn't seem to hold any position in the Sumerian court. I say 'apparently,' because he's asking me for concessions that I have no intention of giving him."

"What do you think of him?" Iolaus asked, watching him carefully. "Personally."

Iphicles eyed him a moment, then admitted, "I don't like him. I don't trust him. But that's not unusual for a foreign embassy." He set the crown aside on a table, his face thoughtful. "I'll admit, I'd planned to give Sumeria the trade Nebula was asking for, because of her help to you," he hesitated, glancing at Hercules, "last year. Even if no one in Corinth can remember what happened, it doesn't mean her service should go unrewarded."

Last year, when Dahak was well on its way to turning everyone in Greece into a worshipful slave. And that was only the beginning. Iolaus looked out the window, setting his jaw. And no one can remember it. Lucky bastards.

"But I expected to treat with a ruling Queen, not a court bootlicker." Iphicles obviously didn't get much chance to grumble in private to people he could trust not to repeat what he said. He shifted forward in his chair, warming to the topic. "From her letters, she didn't strike me as the kind of woman who would bring in a man to speak for her. Especially this man. He acts as if he's the King. And as far as I can tell he isn't even the Consort. Yet. He's not even from Sumeria."

"He said he was from Thera," Hercules said thoughtfully.

Iolaus snorted derisively. "It was destroyed by a volcano; there's no one left there to call him a liar."

"You think he's lying about where he came from?" Hercules asked with a frown. "Why?"

Iolaus looked up to see both brothers watching him expectantly, as if he knew what he was talking about. He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what I think."

Iphicles leaned back in his chair, gazing pensively at the hearth. "Well, Davrios or not, I'm giving a dinner for the embassy tonight and you're both invited."

"Oh." Hercules consulted Iolaus with a look, got a rapid headshake in response, and began, "I don't know, I--"

"I arranged it before they arrived, and it would cause too much comment to cancel it now," Iphicles cut him off sharply. "I want you there. Both of you," he added with an air of grim finality.

***

Hercules left Iolaus in the room they had been given in the family quarters and headed for the east wing, where the Sumerian embassy was housed. He hadn't told his partner his intention, partly because he wasn't sure what his intention was beyond finding out what was going on, and partly because he knew Iolaus would object strenuously and possibly violently to his interference. Hercules would rather make excuses after the fact than be forbidden to interfere at all; he felt responsible for this situation. Whatever it was.

The east wing had a number of rooms and corridors opening off an elaborate garden court. Hercules strode past the two Corinthian guards at the formal entrance, who watched him curiously and with obviously no thought of trying to stop him. The two Sumerian guardsmen he encountered further in did try to stop him, but in the interest of diplomatic relations he didn't hurt them, just knocked both down and broke one of their spears.

Searching for Nebula, he reached a barred door to one of the inner chambers and knocked loudly. He hadn't seen any other members of the embassy except for young guardsmen and a few startled maidservants. It was odd that Nebula hadn't brought any other advisors besides Davrios. And as a warrior herself Nebula was capable of leading her own bodyguard, but it was strange that she hadn't included any seasoned warriors. Maybe there aren't any left, he thought grimly. Dahak had attacked the Sumerian Court twice; Nebula might have found it hard to keep her older nobles and their personal guards in the city.

Hercules was fully expecting an attempt to put him off, so it almost startled him when Nebula opened the door herself.

"Hercules," she said, her voice cool. Her expression was still and composed but he sensed turmoil under that calm surface and it disarmed much of his anger.

"Nebula, we need to talk about this," Hercules said ruefully. "You can't just get him -- us -- all the way here like this and then leave him hanging."

"I know. I know that." She took a deep breath. "But you have to give me time."

Hercules pressed his lips together. He might have believed that from a younger less resolute woman, but coming from her, it sounded like an evasion. His voice hardening, he said, "You chose the time, Nebula, not me. You're acting like a coward."

He meant it to be provoking and fully expected anger and probably a punch, but she just stared at him. Hercules met her gaze, frowning, baffled and increasingly angry. He couldn't see anyone else past her in the room, just an empty couch strewn with cushions and a small table with a wine set. But she was holding the door half-closed and he suddenly realized there was someone standing behind it. Davrios, he thought in irritation. What is it with him? He hesitated, wondering, but the man couldn't be threatening her. He couldn't have been secretly holding a weapon on her the entire time they had been in the palace, not without Iphicles catching on and intervening. Blackmail? Everyone knew she had been a pirate; he couldn't think what else there could be that was worse than that to hold over her. Hostages back in Sumeria? He flicked his eyes toward the door, letting her know he was aware of Davrios, and lifted a brow in inquiry.

She got the message, but just looked annoyed. "Don't be ridiculous."

Hercules frowned, realizing he had been rather hoping for hostages. That at least he knew exactly how to handle. "Then can we go somewhere and talk about this -- in private?"

"So you can insult me again?" she said coolly. "I don't think so. We'll talk tonight at dinner." And she shut the door in his face.

His jaw set, Hercules planted his hands on his hips, glared at the ceiling, and managed to restrain himself from ripping the door off its hinges. He had an audience now of the other Sumerians, the guards nursing their minor wounds with resentment and the maids watching in frightened silence. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth finally, turning away. It would do no good to push this, if she had changed so much, if this was how she dealt with her friends now. But he and Iolaus would leave in the morning.

***

One of the palace retainers had told Iolaus that the dinner had been originally planned for the family dining chamber attached to the King's private rooms, and Iphicles, Hercules, Iolaus and Nebula, and a couple of Iphicles' closest advisors who were friends rather than courtiers, had been the only guests. Another indication that Iphicles, like Hercules, had been expecting this to be a friendly visit. After Davrios' first meeting with the King, the dinner had been moved to the formal dining chamber near the throne room, and more members of Iphicles' court had been invited.

Waiting in the anteroom with Hercules, Iolaus paced uncomfortably. He always felt awkward in court clothes though the ones he wore now had been made for him and were kept at the palace for these infrequent occasions. The pants and long-sleeved shirt were black silk, with a gold-on-black brocade tunic over that, and a black sash with more touches of gold. The usual problem he had with court clothes was that the sleeves were meant to hang loose past the wrists, with no gauntlets or bands to hold them back, as a sign the wearer was noble and didn't have to do anything that might dirty the trailing fabric. The style tended to make Iolaus look boyish and that, plus the silk and bright colors, made him look like a Persian harem boy. The sober black and gold of this outfit didn't have that effect, and the sleeves had been cut back a little shorter. Hercules, being Hercules, looked perfect in a dark blue brocade tunic over a white shirt.

His pissed-off expression didn't exactly go with the clothes, however. "What?" Iolaus demanded. He hadn't seen much of Hercules during the afternoon; Iolaus had spent the time hanging around the palace's public rooms obviously being available in case Nebula wanted to make an attempt to talk to him. But the day had worn on, and alternately hoping and despairing had worn him down, and she hadn't appeared.

"Nothing." Hercules stood with folded arms, glaring at a wall-painting of the Argo sailing past Scylla and Charybdis. "We're leaving in the morning." Belatedly, as if realizing Iolaus might want some say in the matter, he added, "Right?"

"Sure, whatever." Iolaus shrugged wearily, turning away, realizing he really didn't care. How much longer was he supposed to wait around making an idiot of himself? "There's no point in staying."

Hercules took a frustrated breath and started to speak, but then just shook his head.

Iolaus told himself, you knew this would turn out badly. So stop acting surprised. Maybe, despite everything, he had been holding on to a hope that he hadn't articulated even to himself.

He realized he was looking at the section of the painting where tiny figures were visible on the Argo. He stepped close to it, remembering the old game of arguing over who was supposed to be who. He couldn't imagine himself at that age anymore. At the moment, it did seem just like a story, some bright adventure that happened in scrolls and tapestries and wall-paintings, not in real life. "If I'd known..." He hadn't realized he had spoken aloud until Hercules said dryly, "What, you would have jumped off the boat?"

Iolaus lifted a brow, surprised into a rueful smile. Sarcastic Hercules was a major improvement over Angry Hercules, anyway. "Not at Scylla. I would have waited until Colchis, at least."

Hercules snorted. He shook his head, pacing a little and pressing his hands over his eyes. "You know, we're just going to keep running into people who--" He gestured helplessly.

"Who can't deal with the fact that I came back after so long. And that I came back as me, and not someone -- or something -- else," Iolaus finished the thought. He snorted wryly. "I got that, believe me."

Hercules fetched up in front of the painting again, and actually looked at it for the first time since coming into the room. He was quiet a moment. Then he said, slowly, "Would you really, if you had known...."

Iolaus turned to eye him. That was one thing he was sure of. He had learned that lesson when Fortune had accidentally taken his memory a couple of years ago, and nothing had changed it. If he had had the choice, he would have chosen this life. "No," he said pointedly, and added, "Dumbass."

Hercules managed to look relieved and glare at the same time. Before he could reply, Iphicles walked in with two of his courtiers. The King looked them both over critically and nodded to himself. "Good. Let's get this over with."

He swept past, the courtiers in his wake, and Iolaus grimaced and followed him. Hercules trailed reluctantly after.

Light from the candlelamps flickered off more wall-paintings, all scenes from the Argo's voyages. Courtiers in fine clothes mingled and spoke, and Iolaus' eyes found Nebula immediately. She wore a russet gown that clung to her curves, caught at the waist with a wide gold belt, with the same ruby necklace and armbands she had worn that morning. Davrios was at her side. Iolaus saw her eyes flick toward him and away, but she didn't approach.

Iphicles acknowledged the bows from the assembled company rather brusquely and took his seat. The table was one meant for chairs, not dining couches, another sign that this was not an occasion for relaxing. Iolaus found a seat next to Hercules and tried to concentrate on the food the servants immediately carried in.

The courtiers did their duty by keeping the talk light, but he couldn't help stealing the occasional glance at Nebula. Maybe I should just start a conversation. "Hey, Nebula, how's it going? Sorry about the whole driving you mad thing, but you should have seen where I was. And are you sure you never happened to notice that your brother worshipped demons, because even a hint of warning would have been helpful." He grimaced and stabbed the joint of meat with more force than necessary, startling the already uneasy courtiers who were unfortunate enough to be seated near him. "Sorry," he muttered, trying to actually sound sorry. He looked down the table at her again, but she didn't glance up. He didn't see what she had to gain by avoiding the confrontation. Even the conversation in his head was making him look like a complete ass. If she actually participated, it was sure to be worse for him.

Davrios must have noticed the look, because he leaned forward and spoke up the table to Iolaus, saying, "I understand that you've returned from the dead several times."

Down the table, one of the courtiers choked on a bite of food and had to be pounded on the back by his neighbor. As a conversational gambit, it certainly had punch. But after Iolaus' recent encounter with Morrigan, Davrios was going to have to work to rattle him. Iolaus reached for his wine, saying archly, "That's kind of a personal question, don't you think?"

"It seems to be common knowledge." Davrios shrugged, smiling. Nebula just stared at her food, a faint line between her brows that might have meant annoyance or impatience. "I assume Hercules was responsible for your resurrection in each case? An example of his godly powers?"

The question had been addressed to Hercules. Iolaus rolled his eyes. He had wondered for a moment if Davrios' antagonism was jealousy of an ex-lover of Nebula's. But it looked like the man was just trying to get to Hercules. Iolaus swirled the wine in his cup, thinking in disgust, It would be nice to be attacked on my own behalf for once.

Watching Davrios with narrowed eyes, the demigod said, "Not exactly." The two words held an element of "I can put your head through that wall."

"I see." Davrios smiled. "So when do you intend to let him die?"

The table went quiet, every other conversation ceasing abruptly. Iphicles stared at the ceiling a moment then covered his eyes with his hand, apparently trying to distance himself from what he thought was about to happen. Nebula didn't lift her gaze, a muscle jumping in her cheek. But Hercules only said, "When he can do it in bed, surrounded by grandchildren."

Iolaus took a gulp of wine to hide his expression. He hadn't heard Hercules state that goal before and he wasn't sure if it surprised him or not, or what he thought about it. Hercules had replied without any hesitation, as if this was something he had given serious consideration.

Sometimes Iolaus was forcibly reminded that the large, mostly good-humored though occasionally cranky man sitting next to him, trying to eat without letting the fish sauce touch the roast quail, was actually a demigod. It was funny how that could still startle him sometimes after all these years.

Lost for a moment in philosophical speculation and therefore staring thoughtfully into his wine cup instead of showing anger at Davrios' sallies, Iolaus wasn't even aware he had won this round. He glanced up to see that he had the attention of the entire table, except for Hercules and Davrios, who were still locked in a staring contest. Iolaus set the cup aside with a smile. "I guess I should get started on the kids," he said mildly.

"You could adopt," Iphicles suggested politely, deadpan.

"Thank you, Iphicles, that was very helpful."

"You're welcome."

***

When the dinner was mercifully over, they walked out on the portico that ran along the main garden court. It was a warm summer evening and a few bowl-shaped lamps burned, emitting the sweet scent of warm olive oil and attracting suicidal moths. Davrios took Nebula's arm and, followed by their guards, they retreated across the court to the east wing. Hercules took a deep breath of the warm air, glad to see them go. He still wasn't sure what Davrios' game was, but the man knew things that only Nebula could have told him, and it hurt that she had betrayed them both in that way. But he couldn't believe she had done it out of malice.

After Iphicles bid the last courtiers goodnight and the couple had moved out of earshot, he turned to Hercules, asking in a low voice, "What did you make of that? The man wants trade concessions from me, and yet provokes my brother at my own table?" He folded his arms and snorted. "This is getting ridiculous."

Hercules shook his head helplessly. It occurred to him that Davrios, who seemed to know so much, might know how Iphicles hadn't always seen eye-to-eye with his half-mortal brother. He might have been trying to please Iphicles by his behavior, not realizing that Iphicles felt that only himself and other family members had the right to insult Hercules to his face and that any other attempt at it would be taken as a personal attack against the king's household. "He must have some hold over her." Hercules kept coming back to that, but he still didn't see how it could be possible.

"She hasn't asked for help, and she's had plenty of opportunity. I've spoken to her alone several times." Iphicles glanced at him sharply, echoing his thought. "Are you sure that's not wishful thinking?"

"Maybe so." Hercules looked away, annoyed and weary with all these machinations. "I just wish I knew why she got us here."

Iphicles paced along the portico, tapping his chin in thought. "I don't suppose it was simply a ruse."

"What do you mean?"

"She didn't know I'd already planned to give Sumeria the trade she was after. Maybe she wanted to get Iolaus here as a reminder of what we owe her."

Hercules frowned, about to say he really doubted it, when Iolaus' voice said firmly, "She wouldn't do that."

Iphicles hesitated, then said, "Are you sure? It's beginning to look like it." His tone became sardonic. "Davrios' hints were certainly broad enough."

"I'm going to bed," Iolaus announced abruptly, and strode away down the portico.

"Iolaus--" Hercules let out his breath, watching his partner turn the corner under the lamp and vanish into the palace.

"Dammit."

"Let him go." Iphicles threw a sharp look at him. "It's his burden to bear."

Hercules gestured in frustration. "I know that, I--" He halted, scanning the dark court. The flicker of lamplight didn't reach much past the steps. It was quiet except for the movement of the breeze through the leaves, the hum of night insects. Someone spoke inside the dining chamber and plates clattered as the servants cleared the table.

"What is it?" Iphicles asked quietly, one hand dropping casually to his knife hilt.

"I don't know." Hercules had caught surreptitious movement out of the corner of his eye. He added grimly, "Let's find out."

He took two long strides back into the dining room and seized a silver platter off the side table near the door. Stepping back out onto the portico, he marked the spot where he had seen the movement and slung the platter like a discus.

There was a yelp, a thump and a crash as something large careened off the wall and tumbled into a clump of bushes near the fountain. Oh, tell me that isn't what I think it is, Hercules thought in disgust, jumping down the steps and crossing the court. He stopped in front of the clump of flowering brush as Iphicles caught up with him. The guards were arriving at a run, carrying torches that illuminated the long-limbed thing thrashing in the foliage. Of course it's him. Hercules grimaced. "Autolycus, get up."

"That's easy for you to say!" Autolycus shouted, struggling to his feet, batting at the leaves and blossoms that clung to his green tunic. "You almost took my head off with that thing. Who do you think you are, Xena?"

"How did you get in here?" Iphicles demanded.

"Ah, good question." Autolycus planted one fist on his hip, striking a dramatic pose, and stroked his mustache. "Could it be because I'm the King of Thieves?"

Iphicles swore under his breath. Hercules sympathized. He asked tiredly, "You don't have anything of Perseus', do you? No magic shields, magic shoes--"

"Magic loincloths? No, unfortunately, I'm not packing tonight."

Iphicles growled, "Then why are you here?"

"Oh, no special reason, your Majesty." Autolycus gestured airily. "I just thought it was a good time of the year to take in the sea breezes."

"Why are you here in the palace?" Iphicles corrected pointedly.

"Oh, the palace, yeah." Autolycus nodded wisely, as if this was a question they had been discussing a long time and he was now ready to favor them with his opinion. "I heard the big guy and the golden sidekick were here and thought I'd just drop by to say hello."

"You thought you'd just drop by. Over the wall." Iphicles lifted a brow, still fuming. "Like, dare I say it, a thief."

"Of course, I'm the King of Thieves. I can't just stroll up to the gate like any ordinary yabo and ask to see Hercules." He stroked his mustache as Hercules rolled his eyes. "Sorry to say it, but it's not like Corinth's on the top ten list of places with high ticket items of interest to someone of my profession. I mean, the Golden Fleece has been snatched so many times I wouldn't be caught dead with it." He smiled winningly. "No offense."

"Iphicles--" Hercules let out a resigned breath. "It's all right. I'll take responsibility for him." He winced. I know I'll regret this. I always do.

"Fine." Iphicles caught hold of Autolycus' shirt and yanked him forward, surprising a yelp out of him. The King said through gritted teeth, "But if I'm told that anything so much as a scullery maid's copper coin or a kitchen boy's beads have gone missing, I'll clap you in chains under the lowest dungeon I can find." Iphicles dropped the King of Thieves and strode off across the garden.

Autolycus straightened his tunic, confiding to Hercules, "And I thought you could get your knickers in a twist."

"You haven't seen anything yet," Hercules muttered, seizing Autolycus by the shoulder of his jerkin and hauling him toward the portico.

***

Iolaus reached their room in the family quarters. The fire in the circular hearth was already banked and several of the bowl shaped oil lamps were lit in the wall niches, sending a soft flicker of light across the chamber. Their packs were piled on the floor and his sword and bow were propped against the far wall. He had always enjoyed staying at the palace. These chambers had their own bathing room, with servant girls who tended to wander in with towels and offers to scrub your back. The big bed with the feather-stuffed mattress didn't hurt, either. Tonight he was in no mood to be pleased by any of it.

He pulled off the brocade tunic and dropped it on a chest, with the idea of actually undressing and getting into bed, but found himself pacing in front of the hearth instead. He threaded both hands through his hair, frustrated beyond bearing. This wasn't just a way to make Iphicles give her some damn trade concessions, she wouldn't use me like that. Sure, she was a pirate, but-- He knew she wouldn't do that, that she wasn't that person. "That's it," he muttered to himself. "Forget waiting until she's ready." He would try to talk to her again now. Considering how she already felt about him, it couldn't make things worse.

He left the room, finding his way through the quiet lamplit corridors of the family quarters. He crossed into a dark garden court to avoid the public areas, then ducked into the east wing. At the far end of this corridor was the entrance to the Sumerian Embassy's quarters, torches in brackets on either side of the tall archway revealing two bored guards, leaning on their spears. Still in the shadows, Iolaus hesitated. He could probably get past the guards, at least the Corinthian detail. But if Nebula had guards or servants at the doors to her rooms, they were sure to turn him away, and a fight would just draw more unwelcome attention. He lifted a brow. Well, he knew a way past that.

He ducked around the corner of another corridor and ran his hand along the stone wall. It was impossible to see in the dim flicker of torch light, but his fingers found the slight crack in the masonry. Pressing in the right spot, he stepped back as something clicked deep within the wall and one of the carved panels swung ponderously open. He had found these passages years and years ago, when he was a runaway thief turned Academy cadet, playing games through these corridors with Jason and Hercules. They had come in handy a time or two since. A breath of cool stale air puffed out and Iolaus ducked under the cobwebs and stepped inside.

He pulled the heavy panel nearly shut behind him, trusting the shadows and the quiet corridor to keep it concealed. Intent on his mission, he fumbled along through the passage, finding his way by the points of dim light cast by tiny spyholes concealed in the wall carving of rooms and corridors.

He checked several rooms without success, before hearing soft female voices. He followed them to where a small square of candlelight split the dark. He eased up to another panel, looking through the opening to see a dim chamber lit by a few guttering lamps and a small hearth fire. He saw a low couch draped with sheepskin and a few cushions scattered on the polished stone floor. Then Nebula, still dressed in the russet gown, walked across his view. A young maid hurried after her and Nebula snapped, "That's enough. Just go."

The maid hesitated, then fled. Nebula dropped onto the couch, burying her face in her hands.

That's it. Iolaus found the panel's catch and pushed. It swung open abruptly and he tumbled out, staggered across the floor and caught himself. "Nebula."

She had leapt to her feet at the first click of the panel, seizing a heavy oinchoe as a weapon. Staring, she lowered the flask slowly. "Iolaus! What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you, what do you think?" he demanded, shaking the dust and cobwebs out of his hair.

She shook her head, pressing her lips together. Her face was drawn in the candlelight and she looked exhausted. She set the oinchoe back down on the table, looking away. "You'd better go."

Iolaus gestured in frustration. "Why did you write Hercules that you wanted to see me?"

She kept her face turned away. "I changed my mind." Her voice hardened and she sounded more like her old self as she demanded, "I can do that, can't I?"

Iolaus let his breath out, studying her. Maybe it was that simple. If it was, he felt sure he could change it back. He had never known her to run from an argument. "Iphicles thinks you got me here just so you could remind him of what Corinth owes you. But I said I knew you wouldn't do that. Am I wrong?"

Her head had lifted at the mention of Iphicles' suspicion, and Iolaus could tell it had touched her on the raw. She started to speak, hesitated, then rubbed her face tiredly. "Yes, you're wrong. That's what I did," she said, her voice flat.

"I don't believe that." Iolaus took a step closer, trying to get a better look at her expression. He knew that if she really wanted him gone, she would be making a better effort to throw him out than this. She wasn't cold and aloof the way she had been at dinner; she looked weary and drained, as if she had been fighting a battle for days and the outcome was not in her favor. Even I don't look that bad, and I'm more than half out of my mind. "What's wrong?"

She turned to him, gesturing angrily. "I--" She stopped again, a hand going to her throat.

"It's not like you don't want to talk, it's like you can't," Iolaus said slowly. "Is that it?" He stepped closer, wondering if he really was going out of his mind. She just stared at him, that same frustration and weariness in her eyes. "And if you can't talk, there's no way you can tell me if I'm right, can you?"

But she didn't say, You're crazy, now get out before I call the guards. She just stood there. He took the last step, close enough to take her in his arms. Carefully he reached out, touching the hand she still held to her throat. She didn't react, but he could see the tension in her face, the strain around her eyes. Whatever it was, she was fighting it. She was fighting it right now. Baffled, he took her hand, meaning to pull it away from her throat. His fingers brushed the necklace she wore and a sharp pain jolted into his flesh. He flinched and swore in shock, shaking his hand. It was numb up to the elbow. "Oh, that can't be good."

Nebula hadn't reacted at all, as if her inner battle was consuming all her attention. He peered at the necklace. She's been wearing it all day, hasn't she? It had thick gold links lying flat against the creamy brown of her skin, and a blood-red ruby in a plain gold setting resting in the hollow of her throat. There was carving on the ruby and some dark-colored inlay, but he couldn't make out the design. "Right." He took a deep breath, looking up into her staring eyes. "I hope this isn't a mistake." He hoped it didn't kill her. But if she was feeling a tenth of the biting pain that still sent prickles through his arm, he had to get it off her now. He grabbed the necklace with both hands and yanked.

Pain shot up his arms and she jerked forward with a cry, but Iolaus felt the links part under his grip and flung the thing away. He staggered, wrapping his arms around himself, feeling as if he had thrust both hands in the fire. Then Nebula stumbled, swayed, and started to fall. He leapt forward and caught her around the waist. She sagged against his shoulder, taking a deep shuddering breath, her hair coming down in a dark river. She coughed and gasped out, "Thanks."

Iolaus shut his eyes briefly in relief. "What is that thing? Who put it on you?" he demanded. The necklace lay at their feet in the firelight, the links charred, the ruby now completely black. He stamped on it for good measure and felt it shatter to powder under his bootheel.

She shook her head in confusion, one hand still massaging her throat. "I don't know, but damn it hurt. Where are we?"

"Corinth." He stared, aghast. Her voice sounded fuller, richer, more like he remembered. "You didn't know? You've been here for days."

"It's all a blur. I was at the river docks at Sumer, getting ready to go to the seaport, coming here to see you and Hercules...." She looked up, bewildered and angry. "What in Tartarus happened to me?"

"It's Davrios, isn't?" Iolaus said grimly. "He said he was your advisor."

"Who?" she demanded.

The door flung open, cracking against the wall.

***

Pacing the now empty dining chamber, Hercules had time to remember just how pointless interrogating Autolycus could be. "Auto, I don't have time for this. Just tell me why you're here."

"You know, it's just your own suspicious nature," Autolycus informed him confidentially. He was seated comfortably on the table, finishing off the last pomegranate in the fruit bowl. "You need to examine your own conscience. Obviously, there's something you've done that you feel compelled to project onto me. Now if you ask me--"

Hercules clapped a hand over his eyes. "Look, you know Nebula? The Queen of Sumeria who Iolaus was going to marry before her brother sacrificed him to Dahak? Well, she's here. She sent me a letter saying she wanted to talk to Iolaus for the first time since he's been alive again. Now she's apparently changed her mind or lied to try to get some advantage in a negotiation with Iphicles and it's my fault we're here and everything was going so well before." He gestured helplessly. "And why I am bothering to tell you this?"

"All right, all right!" Autolycus waved urgently at him. "Stop appealing to my better nature already, it makes me nervous." He dropped the half-eaten fruit back into the bowl and leaned forward, lowering his voice to say, "It was like this. A friend of a friend dropped me the word that a special gem that was stolen from a temple in Knossos was going to be in Corinth." He added hastily, "Not stolen by me, you understand, stolen by somebody else. I was just planning to liberate it. A gem with a history like that deserves to be liberated by the King of Thieves, not some no-name."

Hercules listened with a frown. "What gem?"

"You know the stories about Thera, right? Before it sunk. Blood-drinking and dark sorcery and all that malarkey?"

"Yes." Hercules' brows drew together. Thera? A coincidence?

"According to this legend, this gem was part of a set that a particularly nasty sorcerer used to keep the peasants from revolting. The kind of deal where whoever wore it had no will of his own. Apparently he gave one of these baubles to a Cretan princess in order to haul her off to his lair, and some enterprising hero-type managed to rescue her. The gem ended up back in Knossos with them, and so was the only one of the set to survive when Thera sank."

No, not a coincidence. Hercules asked quietly, "What does it look like?" but he was fairly sure he already knew.

***

Davrios stood in the doorway, one hand cupping a sphere of glowing red light. He lifted a brow, smiling. "Well, I did think you would finally figure it out, but I didn't know about the other entrance to these quarters."

Iolaus looked frantically around for a weapon but no swords or spears decorated these walls and there was nothing heavy in reach; pillows didn't make much of a weapon compared to sorcerous balls of light. I hate these guys. And they kept showing up with depressing regularity. He said firmly, "If you're here about the disconnected souls having power thing, Malebore tried it already and it didn't work."

Davrios laughed. "Malebore was an amateur. But no, I'm not here for that."

"Careful, he's a sorcerer," Nebula said sharply.

"Yeah, believe it or not, I actually figured that out for myself," Iolaus snapped.

"Look, smartass, I'm still playing catch-up here," she told him angrily. Eyeing Davrios warily, she said, "All right, who are you and what do you want?"

He strolled further into the room and they both backed away. Iolaus thought they were being pretty casual about edging toward the still partly open panel into the secret passage. Then Davrios gestured with his free hand and the panel slammed shut, smoke puffing from its hinges as if whatever had closed it had been red hot. "Ouch," Iolaus commented under his breath.

The ball of light was growing in size, twice as big as the man's hand now, and Iolaus thought he could see something writhing inside it. There was no sign of the Sumerian guards or servants. Davrios said, "You know my name, your majesty. And I don't think I'll tell you the rest just now. But surely you recall accepting a gift from the grateful people of Corcyra? A little girl brought it to you in your throne room." He shook his head mockingly. "A born Queen would have handed it aside to a servant, not put it on immediately to show her appreciation to the child. It was too easy."

Nebula swore, throwing a look at Iolaus. "You came to rescue me and you didn't bring a sword?" she asked furiously. "How dumb was that?"

"I didn't know I was rescuing you until I got here," he snarled back, still keeping his eyes on Davrios and that ball of light. "At least I didn't fall for the oldest trick in--"

"Hey, I--"

"Clever, but you've delayed me long enough," Davrios interrupted. He tossed the light toward them. Iolaus dodged back, pulling Nebula with him as the light hit the stone and splashed toward his boots. A wave of heat swept over them and he winced away from it, certain for a moment that they were both about to die.

Something rose out of the light, something red, twice a man's height, with a bullet-shaped troll-sized head and four long arms. It growled, diving for them. Exchanging a frantic look, Iolaus ducked one way and Nebula the other.

Iolaus threw a chair at it but the creature shrugged it off; Nebula snatched up a smoldering log from the fire and struck it in the side. It reached for her and she dodged away, but stepped on the hem of her dress and stumbled. Her outraged curse turned into a yell as the creature grabbed her around the waist. Iolaus shouted to attract its attention, grabbing a small table and hurling it at the thing's head. The impact had no effect and, ignoring the solid kicks Nebula was pounding its ribs with, it reached for him. He dodged away and fell over a little table holding a bowl of apples, scattering the contents everywhere. Iolaus rolled to his feet, snatching up the fruit knife which was just about the right size to fight off an angry chicken with. I'll have to get it in the eye, he thought, ducking another wild grab.

He dodged again and threw the knife. The creature roared with pain as the weapon struck it in the eyelid, but the tiny blade wasn't long enough to do any real damage. One huge hand brushed it away and the other backhanded Iolaus across the room.

He slammed into a chest that shattered beneath him. Dazed, his back aching, he rolled over on the broken wood and saw a big red blunt-fingered hand reaching for him. Desperately he scrambled back, just managing to push himself up on his elbows. Then from somewhere behind the creature he heard a crash and a familiar demigodly bellow: "Iolaus!"

"Here!" he shouted in relief, kicking at the hand.

It pulled back, the creature straightening up, and for an instant Iolaus thought he had actually managed to hurt it. It half-turned away and he saw Nebula where she hung in its grip, her legs trapped now by the other hand on that side, still trying to claw at its tough hide with her nails. Their eyes met, startled and hopeful, then the creature bolted away. It nearly doubled over to get out the door, then it was gone.

Iolaus scrambled to his feet, shaking splinters out of his hair, and ran after it. In the doorway he slammed into something large and muscular that caught him by the shoulders, but fortunately it was Hercules. "Where?" he demanded.

"That way!" Iolaus pointed. He had an instant to notice his partner was accompanied by Iphicles carrying a drawn sword, a half-dozen confused Corinthian guards and, for some bizarre reason, Autolycus.

Hercules nodded, released him, and ran.

The creature had left a broad trail of broken doors, smashed statuary, and alarmed bystanders through the palace. The trail led to the front gates, which had somehow been barred from the outside. Hercules battered them with his shoulder while Iphicles snarled and paced at the delay and servants brought torches to light the dark court. Iolaus found himself standing next to the King of Thieves. "What in Tartarus are you doing here?" he asked, breathing hard.

"Why, I came to warn you about the cursed necklace," Autolycus answered, as if it was obvious.

Hercules and Iphicles stopped to stare at him incredulously. "Well, that's how it worked out." Autolycus folded his arms defensively.

With an annoyed grimace, Hercules slammed into the gate again and whatever sorcerous barrier held it shut gave way with a crash. They ran through the dark of the lower town, following the creature's trail straight for the harbor.

Reaching the line of docks where merchant ships and galleys lay quiet and only a few lanterns burned, Iolaus' heart sank. At the royal dock there was a conspicuously empty space where Nebula's ship had been berthed. The guards there lay sprawled on the battered boards, one dead of a broken neck, the other two unconscious. Hercules had reached the spot first and was standing at the end of the dock, hands planted on his hips. Iolaus reached his side, shielded his eyes from the torchlight, and peered into the darkness. After a moment he found it, a dark shape against the lighter black of the moonlit sea.

The Sumerian ship plowed toward the harbor entrance. No oars rose and fell, and no sails billowed in the cool wind. She was sailing by sorcery.

"So where's he taking her?" he said in frustration, mostly to himself.

"We'll find out when we get there," Hercules answered grimly.

***

Iphicles commandeered a fast merchant ship for them, the sailors paid well to provision and ready it as quickly as possible. By the time Iolaus had run back to the palace, changed out of the ruined black silk into his leathers, grabbed his weapons and their travel packs and returned, the ship was nearly ready to leave. He joined Hercules and Iphicles on the torchlit dock, handing his partner his pack.

Hercules shouldered it absently, listening to Iphicles' captain of the guard, who was reporting, "Her maids and guards know nothing. They all say they were taken on in the seaport just before the Queen left Sumeria. Davrios was already with her then."

Iphicles nodded grimly. "So he tricked her into taking the necklace earlier, then used it to gain control of her after she left her palace." He turned to Hercules. "I'll send a fast courier to Sumer to warn them in case he takes her back there. Is there anything else you need?"

Hercules shook his head. "We'll find her. I'll send you a message as soon as I know anything."

The ship's captain shouted from the deck, letting them know they were ready to cast off. Iphicles was watching Hercules carefully. He said, "You know this is a trap, don't you? If Davrios was only after Nebula, he had no reason to bring her here at all."

No reason, except to let them see her and make sure they would follow when he fled. Follow him away from Corinth and any help that Iphicles and his army might provide, from Jason and their other friends. Iolaus exchanged a bleak look with Hercules, who said soberly, "Yes, we know."

Iphicles let his breath out, acknowledging that there was nothing to be done about it. He gave Iolaus a tight nod, then with a trace of self-consciousness told Hercules, "Good luck, brother."

Hercules clapped him on the shoulder and followed Iolaus, who was already halfway up the gangplank.

Iolaus found a place in the prow, too tense to speak to anyone and not wanting to get in the sailors' way. He was so occupied with his own thoughts, it took him a moment to realize that the man standing next to him was not the captain of the ship, but Autolycus.

"You're coming?" he asked him, startled.

The King of Thieves shrugged, his expression impossible to read in the dark. "I didn't come all this way to scrape what's left of a priceless gem off your boots, Curly. The jerk owes me."

Iolaus thought it was the lamest explanation he had ever heard, but he wasn't going to argue.

Part 2: Egypt

"We don't mind being chased by giant birds, we just want to know why."
Young Hercules

Hercules was dreaming. In the dream he was stuck somewhere, not trapped, just stuck, going from place to place, having to perform a series of petty tasks that he couldn't recall once they were completed. He had to finish, needed to finish, because Iolaus was stuck somewhere as well -- crossing a desert or slogging across an icy plain, it changed back and forth at random -- and he had to be there, had to meet him at the end, had to get there in time or--

"Wake up!"

The whisper was accompanied by a solid thump to the small of his back. A wave of indignation washed out the urgent dream images as Hercules propped himself up on one elbow. "Did you just kick me?" he demanded, now fully awake.

"Yes." It was dark and warm in the hold, the half-light of a cloudy pre-dawn filtering through the gaps in the boards overhead. He could barely make out their packs and the blankets they had spread on the deck to protect them from the splintered boards. Iolaus was standing over him, hastily struggling into his clothes. Before Hercules could physically retaliate or launch into an indignant I-may-be-a-demigod-but-there-are-limits speech, Iolaus said, "Get out there."

The grim tone in his partner's voice stopped him. Hercules sat up, realizing the reason Iolaus was having so much trouble lacing his pants up was because his hands were shaking. Without another word, he pushed to his feet, struggled into his own pants and grabbed his shirt, starting for the ladder.

As he climbed he realized something was wrong with the quality of the light. Uh oh. His thoughts raced as he reached the top and climbed out onto the deck. It could be a strange storm, a tidal wave, a god manifesting over the prow.... He saw a few crewmen standing against the rail in a silent huddle, their faces drawn with terror, staring up at the inexplicably shadowed sky.

Hercules paused at the rail, still baffled. The sky was clear and cloudless but dark, a gray-purple tint of twilight. Stars were faintly visible but he couldn't see the dim white shadow of the full moon. His brain and his gut told him the sun should be up but it simply wasn't.

If it really is dawn and we're still heading southwest.... He turned, looking for the sun.

After a moment his eyes found the black shadow that covered it. Not the clean-edged circle of an eclipse, but a threatening amorphous shape, tentacles of black cloud reaching out to enclose and cover the fiery disk. Hercules' throat went dry.

Iolaus came to stand at his side. "What is it?" he asked, sounding shaken.

Hercules shook his head, his eyes still on that empty black shadow. "I don't know."

Iolaus swore. "I hate it when you say that."

I hate it when I say that too, Hercules admitted to himself, turning to stride up the deck toward the prow. The crew watched him with anxious concern. He thought about saying something reassuring but decided against it; an honest assessment of the danger was more likely to quell panic than empty words. He just didn't have an honest assessment at the moment.

The ship's captain and Autolycus were standing in the prow, surveying the strange sky. The King of Thieves had dressed hastily as well, his outer jerkin and tunic hanging open. He was stroking his mustache nervously and as Hercules and Iolaus arrived, he said, "Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions?"

"Glad you came?" Iolaus asked him grimly.

"Hey, the King of Thieves is more than equal to...." He gestured vaguely upward. "Whatever in the name of all that's holy that is." Autolycus' bravado didn't waver, but he couldn't quite conceal the uneasy tone in his voice.

Hercules started to answer, then saw a crewman sitting on the deck, about to use flint and tinder to light one of the cabin candle lamps. Struck by a frightening idea, he held his breath. If it isn't just the sun, if it's fire, if it's everything that makes the world work.... But the flint sparked and the tinder caught, and as the man got the wick lit Hercules breathed deeply in relief. He glanced down at Iolaus, who had followed his gaze and obviously had the same thought. Iolaus took a sharp breath, unconsciously rubbing an old scar on his chest. He said, "At least Prometheus is okay."

"Prometheus?" Autolycus glanced at the crewman, now taking the lamp away to hang inside the captain's cabin, got the point and gave a mock shudder. "You two creep me out sometimes, you know that?"

Hercules scanned the horizon until he found the black shape of Davrios' ship, still without sails, still heading away from them. "This can't be a coincidence," he said, keeping his voice low.

"Davrios leads us this way and the sun just happens to go out? That would be some coincidence," Iolaus agreed.

"But how?" the captain wondered, watching Davrios' ship worriedly. He was Phoenician, an older man with his graying hair braided tightly to his head. "I know he's a sorcerer, but what sorcerer could do this?"

Hercules remembered the dream Iolaus had woken him from. It might have been a warning, like the one he had had on that ill fated voyage to Sumeria. He had seen himself as Dahak then, but he hadn't understood the message. Not until he had realized how Dahak had appeared to Iolaus once it had him trapped within itself. Don't let this be another warning, he thought. Heeding it would mean turning the ship around, and he couldn't do that. Couldn't leave Nebula to whatever fate Davrios planned, couldn't leave this trap unsprung. Not if Davrios had the power to blot out the sun. "But why did he do it?" he said aloud.

"It's not preventing us from following him." Iolaus frowned, leaning on the rail as he looked out at the distant shape of the ship. "But then we're pretty sure us following him is the motive for his taking her, right?"

"Right." Hercules looked down at him. "So what's the point?"

Iolaus shook his head slowly.

"Whatever it is," the captain told them soberly, "I'll be just as glad not to be there when you find out."

***

They still had no answers the next day -- if they could call it a day when the sun neither rose nor set -- when they realized that Davrios was heading for the port of Alexandria. "Egypt," Hercules said thoughtfully. They were standing in the bow, the strong wind tugging at their hair and clothes. The sky was a deeper purple now, the stars more clearly visible. "That's not what I was expecting."

Leaning on the rail beside him, Iolaus nodded. "I was sure it would be Sumeria." He had been dreading that it would be Sumeria. I guess it's a trade-off, he thought with grim humor. Don't have to go Sumeria, but the sun gets put out. On the whole, if he had been given a choice, he felt he would have opted for Sumeria.

"I thought he might have a lair in those rocky islands that are all that's left of Thera, guarded by blood-drinking undead fiends," Autolycus put in.

Iolaus stared at him, baffled. "What?"

Autolycus looked annoyed. "It was just a thought, all right?"

They reached Alexandria half a day behind Davrios and landed in a city in chaos, locked in a kind of permanent purple twilight. Ships were fleeing the harbor in panicked droves, rowing out between the feet of the colossus that straddled the harbor mouth, the burning torch clasped in its hand the only sun that had risen this day. Hercules instructed the crew to stay with the ship, though Iphicles had given them orders to follow the demigod. They were good men, but they were just as glad to stay in the relative security of the port; it had been growing steadily darker as they neared land.

Again, Davrios left an easy trail to follow. Frightened merchants guarding their wares in the dark and beggars huddled in alleyways had seen the four-armed troll go toward the Nile riverdocks, followed by a figure in a dark cloak. No one had noticed a woman with them, but one beggar admitted that he thought the troll might have had a dark bundle slung over its shoulder.

At the riverdocks they found Davrios had taken a boat and headed upriver. They split up then, Hercules going off to try to find someone in authority with any idea of what was happening to the sky, and Iolaus and Autolycus staying at the docks to find a craft for themselves.

Now, waiting for Hercules to return, Iolaus paced the deserted wooden dock at the edge of the great river, feeling the damp heat of the delta settle on his skin like a silk shroud. It had been easier to find a boat than he had thought it was going to be in all the confusion. Hearing that they wanted to go inland into the darkness, the owner of a small fishing boat had practically been willing to give him the craft as long as he didn't have to come along; Iolaus had had to chase him down to give him the dinars he had offered.

Now Autolycus puttered on their boat, stowing supplies he claimed had been abandoned on the docks. Iolaus was in too big a hurry to argue with him about it. He spotted a familiar form coming down the dock at a trot and let out a relieved breath. "Finally," he said aloud, starting forward to meet Hercules.

"Did you find out anything?" he asked as he reached the demigod.

"No." Hercules shook his head, his tone grim. "They don't know anymore than we do. There's been no pronouncement from the Pharaoh or the gods that anyone's aware of, no messages from Thebes. The priests seem to be as baffled as everyone else."

Iolaus looked down the dock, running a hand through his hair. "Who is this guy?" he said quietly.

Hercules didn't answer, just laid a hand on the back of his neck and squeezed reassuringly. "Let's go."

***

After the first day of travel, the star-filled sky and the oil lamps on the prow and stern of their boat were the only sources of light; otherwise they might have been sailing on an underground river through the caverns of Tartarus. Holding the tiller of the little boat, Iolaus took a deep breath, reminding himself that the world was still there. The wind pushing them upriver held the scent of desert grass and dusty sand; the water lapped against the boat and he could hear an occasional confused low from a riverhorse or the grunt of a crocodile.

Autolycus climbed around the small cabin, yawning and squinting against the yellow glow of the lamp. "Get any sleep?" Iolaus asked him, to make conversation.

"Your guess is as good as mine. I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or closed," Autolycus grumbled, stumbling around on the little deck.

"Been there, done that," Iolaus agreed. He would have thought the perpetual darkness would have made it a struggle to stay awake, but it seemed to do the opposite. It was as if their bodies were confused, some signals saying it was day and others saying it was night, so that time blurred and they slept in restless spurts.

"Here, I'll take over," Autolycus said gruffly, reaching for the tiller.

"Hey, hey." Iolaus blocked him with a shoulder. "It's still my turn." He was only partly kidding. This was the only thing to do onboard; he had already sharpened his sword as much as he could without damaging the blade.

"Oh come on, you've had it all night -- day -- whatever. Give it here."

Iolaus grudgingly gave over the tiller and went forward, climbing around the cabin. Out of the light of the lamp, he paused to let his eyes adjust. After a moment, he could make out the great expanse of the river, but he couldn't tell where it stopped and the banks started. He made his way toward the dark Hercules-sized shape in the bow, stumbled on a coil of rope and managed to take a seat behind him.

Hercules shifted so he could half-face Iolaus. "How are you doing?"

Iolaus tried to settle more comfortably against the side of the boat and gave up. "Huh? Oh, fine. Just can't sleep."

"Me too," Hercules replied, sounding a little absent. "I think it's the moon. It must affect how we sleep, even when we can't see it."

"Yeah." Iolaus knew it had affected other things too. He just hadn't been much interested in eating, not that their provisions of dried meat and flatbread were terribly appetizing. It might be worry over what was happening to Nebula and what they were going to face when they caught up to Davrios, but the lack of any real sense of a day's passage couldn't help. He tried to find a comfortable position again, then gave up again. "You know what I've been wondering?"

"Yes," Hercules answered immediately. "What's Kheper doing about this?"

"Yeah." Iolaus hesitated, then said in exasperation, "You can't tell me Mr. 'Amun-Re makes housecalls and Anubis hangs out in my statue' couldn't take on Davrios. Even if Davrios is powerful enough to do this."

"But Davrios was still at sea when this happened," Hercules pointed out. "I've been thinking...what if what did this was already here, waiting for Davrios to get close enough to give it some signal."

Iolaus lifted his brows. "The signal that he was leading us here?"

"Yeah, that signal." Hercules sounded resigned. "I don't think an ordinary sorcerer, even someone as powerful as Kheper, could pull this off. This is...god-powerful."

"Or demon-powerful," Iolaus pointed out.

Hercules was silent a moment. "You think it's another fragment of Dahak?" he asked reluctantly.

Iolaus shook his head, considering it. "No, not this. I think--"

"You don't?" Startled, Hercules twisted around to squint at him in the dark.

Iolaus frowned. "Why? Do you?"

"No, it's just--" Hercules gestured helplessly. "You think everything is Dahak."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do. Or you did."

"No, that's...you're not..." Iolaus sputtered. "I do not do that."

"Okay."

Iolaus bristled. That was the okay that meant okay, I'm not going to argue with you, I'll just sit here secure in the knowledge that I'm right. "Whatever. As I was saying," he continued testily, "I don't think one of the Dahak fragments we've run into could do this. Even the one in Persia. They've been getting progressively weaker and stupider."

"I think you're right. I think this is something that's native to Egypt, something that's attacking Amun-Re specifically." Hercules hesitated again, then said, "What I was asking before was, actually, were you okay with being here? Like this? It's not...bothering you?"

"Oh." Iolaus finally got it. "No, not like that." The Paths of the Dead weren't this dark, he started to say, and thought better of it; it wasn't very encouraging under the circumstances.

He didn't remember it much anymore, anyway. What he seemed to have were memories of remembering it, of brief flashes that came to him in dreams, under the influence of the dream-powder Asclepias had given him. As if once his soul was back in his physical body it hadn't been able to retain those images. It was the Dahak memories that could still haunt his dreams, even now.

For all the strangeness of this dark landscape, this was the place where he had suddenly found himself alive and free, and even if he couldn't see it, he could still smell that unique combination of sand, dusty rock and the heavy green sweetness of muddy farmland inundated by the great river flow. He shifted uncomfortably on the damp boards again, finally asking the question that was really bothering him, "If we can't see the sun or the moon, does that mean those gods are dead?"

Hercules' answer came so readily Iolaus knew the demigod had been giving it a lot of thought. "I suppose they could have taken away the sun as some kind of punishment, but.... In all the fights with Apollo I've had, he's never even threatened to stop the sun from shining over Greece. I doubt it even crossed his mind. I think gods with a special purpose like that feel compelled to carry it out, no matter what. I think a Sun God wouldn't want to stop the sun, unless it wanted to stop being a god altogether. And there's not much chance of that." He shook his head reluctantly.

Iolaus noted that Hercules hadn't answered the question. That was answer enough. And Nebula is in the middle of it. He took a deep breath. "And we know it's a trap for us. I don't know, maybe we shouldn't have brought Auto."

Hercules snorted. "Brought him?" After a moment, he added, "I'm worried about Kheper."

Iolaus agreed grimly. "There's no way he'd sit through this without a fight."

They sat in silence for a time, watching the dark landscape flow by. Hercules glanced down at Iolaus again. "Try to get some sleep," he advised.

"Yeah, that's likely." He snorted, wriggling uncomfortably again.

Hercules said, "Here," and shifted so Iolaus could lean against his side instead of the damp wood. Iolaus gave in, grumbling, but settled in under Hercules' arm. He fell asleep within moments, and he didn't even dream.

***

They came to a Thebes wrapped in darkness, at a time when the sun should have just been breaking over the red cliffs. Standing in the bow, shielding his eyes from the light of the lamp, Iolaus could just make out the square shapes of buildings rising on the banks of the dark river. He supposed they had been passing the small farms and the estates of the nobles that bordered the river right up to the city's outskirts, but it was all a vast well of shadow.

As they drew nearer the bank, he could see the pointed caps of obelisks, the fronds of tall palm trees, and the mammoth head of a statue of a god or pharaoh, outlined against the deep purple sky. Everything else -- the jewel-like colors, the plated gold, the massive lotus-shaped colonnades -- were lost in darkness. He glanced back to see Autolycus, made hollow-cheeked and gaunt by the lamplight, stroking his mustache and studying the view with a worried frown. Autolycus caught his eye and said, "Doesn't look so good, Curly."

"No," Iolaus agreed softly, his gaze returning to the silent city. "No, it doesn't."

He heard Hercules' footsteps as the demigod came forward, and the deck creaked as he stopped beside Iolaus to survey the silent city rising from the muddy banks. "Let's furl the sail and cover the lamp," he said. "The docks should be right up there."

Iolaus nodded, trying to ignore the prickles of unease running up and down his spine. They had checked the docks of every city along the Nile for Davrios' boat, but he had had the feeling the sorcerer was making for Thebes. It was the heart of Egypt, and if something had struck at Egypt's gods, it would strike there. He moved to take down the sails, Autolycus coming to help him, while Hercules went back to take the oar.

An invisible forest of reeds near the bank brushed against their boat as they came down past the quiet docks, where the sailing craft and barges drifted empty and deserted.

Tightening a line, Autolycus glanced up and cursed, startled, his eyes widening. Iolaus twisted around, instinctively ducking and reaching for the spear leaning against the mast. A giant sphinx loomed over them, its approach sudden, silent except for the lap of water on wood.... "It's a barge." Iolaus snorted in relief, straightening up to set the spear aside. It was the carved stern of a royal barge.

Autolycus had his grappling hook out, poised to throw. "A what?" He stared hard at the menacing shape, rocking gently in the water, and huffed self-consciously. "A barge. I knew that. I just wanted to see if you were on your toes, Curly."

Iolaus rolled his eyes, but before he could reply, Hercules' voice said quietly, "There it is."

Iolaus jerked around, looking toward the bank. The barge's giant falcon-shaped prow was drifting to stern and past it, outlined against the lighter-colored stone of the Royal Dock, was a merchant's river skiff. Iolaus stepped to the little cabin, taking his scabbarded sword and slinging the belt over his shoulder, checking the set of the hilt. The boat fit the description they had of the one Davrios had stolen in Alexandria; they wouldn't know for certain, of course, until they got aboard.

The lap of water against their hull was the only sound as Hercules carefully guided their boat toward the larger craft, drawing aside it with the barest scrape. Iolaus grabbed the other boat's rail and climbed onto the deck as Autolycus hastily tied them off to the merchant craft. The deck was empty except for a coil of rope and a water jar; there was no belowdeck area, only a cabin at the stern to shelter the cargo. Moving with care to keep the wood from creaking, Iolaus eased forward. The boat was larger than theirs, about twice the size, and her sails were a tangled useless heap at the base of the mast. Iolaus paused but could hear nothing, no movement, no breathing. There was barely a sound as Hercules climbed aboard behind him, Autolycus creeping after him. Iolaus grimaced to himself. There was no one here, he could already tell. Of course, it's not going to be easy.

He crossed the deck, stepping lightly, but the cabin door stood open and a moment's inspection of the dim interior told him it was empty. "Nothing," he said, not realizing how tightly he was gripping the edge of the door until a splinter stung his palm.

"He's still ahead of us," Hercules said, his voice hard. He paced back across the deck, examining it more closely, then caught hold of a piling to climb up onto the masonry dock. Autolycus crouched down to examine the cabin floor. Iolaus moved to follow Hercules but Autolycus caught his arm, saying, "This look familiar?"

He was holding out an armband. Iolaus took it, recognizing it by touch, though the gold looked silver in the starlight. "Yes, it's hers."

"Hmm." Autolycus got to his feet, grim and thoughtful. "At least we know it's the right boat."

Iolaus had known that as soon as he had seen the useless sails. He absently slipped the band onto his wrist over his gauntlet and climbed up on the dock after Hercules. There was no sound from the shadowy buildings lining the shore, not a hint of life.

Hercules was standing on the stone walkway, hands planted on his hips, grimly contemplating the dark city. As Iolaus joined him he said, "The trail won't be hard to follow."

Iolaus followed his gaze. It took him a moment to make it out, but then he saw the broken column at the corner of the long portico of the building facing the dock. He nodded. "Yeah, he's made sure we can follow, just like in Corinth. Let's go."

Hercules stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "We need to find Kheper."

Iolaus shook his head, impatient. "He could be off somewhere trying to fix this. We need to go after Nebula before Davrios decides he doesn't need her anymore."

"I know. I'll follow Davrios. I want you and Auto to go to Kheper's house and see if he's there. If he's not, Tawaret and Dahluka-ta-sherit should know--"

"Are you out of your mind? I'm not going to leave you--"

Hercules insisted, "Iolaus, I'm trying not to fall into this obvious trap, and to do that, we're going to need some help. I need you to find Kheper."

"Why don't you go find him? Auto and I can follow Davrios--"

Autolycus leaned in. "Whoa there, Sidekick, what was option alpha again?"

"You and Nesmut were all over this city at night, you can make it up to his house and back much faster than I can," Hercules said firmly. "This is not about who's going to be taking the biggest risk, it's about acting together to get Nebula out of danger. And we don't have time to argue about it."

Iolaus swore, shoving a hand through his hair and looking away. That twist in his gut that told him this was a bad idea was nothing but wounded pride. He's right. And you were five paces away from Davrios when he took her, and what good did that do? But he said, "At least take Auto."

"I'll go faster without him to worry about." Hercules squeezed Iolaus' shoulder. "Hurry."

"Hey, don't I get a choice?" Autolycus objected.

"No." Iolaus took out his pique by giving Autolycus a shove in the right direction. "You wanted to come, remember?"

***

Direct route or not? Iolaus asked himself, jogging down the silent street with Autolycus at his heels. It would be slower but less obvious to go through the residential area. No, Hercules was right, Davrios will expect us to go straight after him, he won't be laying ambushes on the other side of the city. "We'll go this way, up the Nobles Avenue," he said, mostly to himself.

"When travelling in a haunted city filled with nameless terrors, it's always best to go first class," Autolycus agreed from behind him.

The statues and huge columns looming out of the dark made Iolaus feel as if this was a city of giants. Dead giants. He had only seen this city warm and teeming with people; even late into the night there had been music, laughter, crowds. "The people have to be here somewhere," he said. Alexandria and the other cities they had passed along the river hadn't been deserted. Confused to the verge of panic maybe, but the inhabitants had still been in evidence. Though it hadn't been quite as dark there as it seemed to be here. But the place was far too silent. "They can't all be..." He didn't want to finish the sentence.

Autolycus put in, "Maybe they all went to the coast, where it's not quite so hard to see the nameless terrors."

Iolaus snorted dryly. "I hate to tell you, Auto, but it's the terrors you can name that are actually the worst." He realized what he had said and swore under his breath. "Great, I just creeped myself out."

"Yeah, Curly, that was very helpful," Autolycus told him dryly. Sounding frustrated, he added, "And who is this Kheper character you guys keep bringing up?"

Iolaus thought about how to answer that question, and settled for, "He's the sorcerer that brought me back to life."

"Oh." Autolycus was silent for a few paces, digesting that. "I'm not big on sorcerers."

"Well, don't tell him that."

***

Davrios wasn't making much effort to be subtle. Hercules wasn't sure if it meant the sorcerer was by nature careless or that he simply had no respect for his opponents' intelligence. Hopefully both, he thought, dodging around the remains of a basket shop that now sprawled across the dark street. The feeling that Davrios wasn't the real danger was stronger, and he would take any advantage he could get.

An obelisk with a substantial chunk missing drew him out of the narrow commercial street into a wide processional avenue, lined with statues of seated sphinxes. Pausing to survey the ground, he saw some of them seemed to be missing their heads. At the far end, framed between the pylons that marked the temple's entrance, he could see the glow of firelight. Right. To stroll right up that invitingly open space would be playing along with Davrios' game, but Hercules was tired of playing. He turned back for the cover of the maze of alleys and smaller streets.

The emptiness of the mudbrick buildings worried him more than anything else. In the cramped quarters of all these homes and marketstalls and workshops he passed there was no breath of sound, no movement, no sense that the frightened inhabitants watched him pass. He hadn't seen any corpses, but that wasn't exactly reassuring either. What did he do to them? he wondered, sick at heart. And could they find a way to undo it?

He reached the end of an alley and found the way blocked by a two-story mudbrick building. A tumbledown shack next to it provided a handy ladder, and within a few moments he was crouched behind a low parapet on the roof, with a good view.

He was looking down on the wide open forecourt of the temple of Amun-Re, at the end of the avenue of sphinxes. Unlike anywhere else in the city, it was lit with an array of torches. And in the center.... Oh yeah. Hercules' mouth twisted grimly. If I didn't think it was a trap before, I'd know it now.

***

Kheper's house was on the high ground, looking down on the city. There was a wall around the rambling one story building, but Iolaus knew it was just there to keep other people's goats out of the garden, as no mortal enemy would dare cross that barrier and it was no impediment at all to the immortal enemies. He lifted the latch on the wooden gate and swung it open.

It was the same palm tree-lined courtyard, with a long reflecting pool that lay in front of the house's broad porch. But halfway across the open court, between the gate and the pool, was a large dark form. It's a cat statue, Iolaus thought, puzzled at its placement right in the middle of the path. The thing was nearly twenty feet tall. Then he saw its tail flick in a restless, lion-like movement. "Oh, great," he breathed.

"I take it that's not a lawn ornament." Autolycus stared. "It's a--"

"It's a sphinx," Iolaus said, squinting at the creature. He could make out the lion's body now, the distinctive square shape of the head. He could see its flanks move as it breathed.

"I know that, Sidekick, thanks," Autolycus muttered, "But what are we going to do about it?"

It had to be guarding the house. In which case, it should be friendly. He hoped. Iolaus took a sharp breath. "We get past it."

"Yeah, I was afraid you were going to say that. Well, I guess you haven't seen Egypt until you've been eaten by a sphinx." Autolycus considered the creature again, fingering his grappling hook. "Don't we have to ask it a riddle?"

"That's a myth. Wait here." Iolaus stepped forward slowly, holding his hands out and empty, leaving his sword sheathed across his back. "We're here to see Kheper," he said to the sphinx.

He was perhaps ten paces away when the massive stone head darted for him like a striking snake. He leapt backward but his feet slipped in the soft sand and he sat down hard, clawing for his sword. But the head stopped, frozen just a few feet above him. Breathing hard, Iolaus eased back away from it.

The blank stone eyes tracked his progress, though the rest of the creature didn't move. As he pushed to his feet Autolycus caught his arm, giving him a hand up. "You okay?" he asked nervously.

Iolaus nodded. "Yeah. It...stopped."

"The god knows you," it said suddenly in perfect Greek, making both men flinch. Its voice was deep and raspy, with a rumbling echo, as if it was speaking to them from the bottom of a cavern. The stone eyes passed from Iolaus to rest on Autolycus. "The god does not know you."

"Well, there's no accounting for taste," Autolycus informed it acidly.

"He's with me," Iolaus told it firmly.

The massive head hung there in silence for another moment, then it lifted. "You may enter."

Uneasily, Autolycus glanced at Iolaus. "Are we sure we want to enter?" he asked, low-voiced. "It didn't say anything about leaving afterward."

"What god knows me?" Iolaus demanded. "Who's controlling you?"

It watched them blankly and didn't answer.

"Ask it in a riddle," Autolycus suggested. "Here, let me. Hey, stone-face, listen up. What has three--"

"Will you stop with the riddles?" Gritting his teeth to keep from shouting, Iolaus grabbed Autolycus' tunic, shaking him. "I told you that was a myth!"

"Okay, okay!" Autolycus freed himself with an annoyed wriggle. "I'm just trying to help."

Iolaus took a deep breath, sheathed his sword, and started for the tall doorway behind the sphinx. Autolycus muttered something inaudible and fell into step behind him.

He crossed the tree-lined courtyard, going up the graveled path around the reflecting pool to the lotus-columned porch. It felt weird to be here again, visiting a place so familiar it seemed engraved on his senses. Especially with Autolycus trailing along after him. As Iolaus reached the porch he saw the door stood open and he stopped to call out, "Kheper! Anyone here?"

No answer. That's not good. He stepped inside to the reception room but it was too dark to make out much. He felt for a wall niche and found an alabaster oil lamp. After a moment fumbling with flint and tinder, he got it lit again. The flicker of light revealed the familiar room, empty, the walls painted with reeds and dragonflies and the hall beyond with its columns covered with carved and painted picture writing. Iolaus led Autolycus on a quick tour of the house, but the other rooms were empty, with no sign of Kheper, Tawaret or Dahluka-ta-sherit, or even Nesmut. The monkey wasn't even here and all the cats seemed to be hiding. Nothing looked disturbed, there was no sign of a fight or a hasty departure, but the emptiness of the place was making Iolaus' flesh creep. Finally there was only one more room to search.

"Nice digs," Autolycus commented, as Iolaus pulled open one of the double doors that led to Kheper's workroom. "Since this guy's a sorcerer, I was expecting something more-- Gah!" He stopped dead at the entrance, staring in horror.

"Will you be quiet?" Iolaus snapped. The lamplight illuminated only a small portion of the huge chamber. The stone of the walls and pillars were covered with more of the Egyptian picture writing, scrawled in dark ink over every available surface. Iolaus headed for the cluttered work area near the door, where a few low tables were piled with clays pots and jars and piles of scrolls and parchments. On the wall behind them were shelves, holding hundreds more oddly-shaped boxes and containers.

Autolycus was staring at the other half of the room and the big black slab of basalt altar with the twenty foot tall statue of the jackal-headed god Anubis looming over it, gold gleaming faintly on its headpiece and harness. Beyond the altar was the natron pit with the winch arrangement that lifted its heavy stone cover. "This guy...brought you back to life...here?" he asked, sounding aghast.

"Yeah." Distracted, Iolaus glanced around. "In fact it was right there." He jerked his head toward the altar.

Autolycus, about to touch the smooth black surface, jerked his hand back. "Huh." He turned back to find a lamp in one of the wall niches and light it. "I thought all this character did was wave his magic wand or something. This looks rather...clinical."

Wave a magic wand? Iolaus snorted, still occupied with looking over the scrolls on the table for some hint of what had happened. "Why did you come, anyway? On this trip. You didn't have to."

Autolycus shrugged, taking his lamp back to the statue to cautiously study it. He retreated from it with a grimace and a shudder. "I figure I owe Hercules one."

Iolaus frowned. "What for?"

"Before he hared off here after you last time, I heard he was looking for me. I didn't come. I owe him one." He threw Iolaus a dark look. "But don't get all mushy over it."

Iolaus shook his head. Sometimes he didn't get Auto, sometimes he just thought he did. He sat on his heels to read an open scroll, turning it so the picture writing was right side up. He knew a little of the Egyptian writing from the copy of the Book of Coming Forth By Day he had brought back to Greece, enough to tell this was a calendar of the big temple holidays. He traced down the page, biting his lip, trying to match this to Corinth's much less exact calendar. "It's the Feast of Amun-Re. At least it was, not long ago. I think."

"And what's that when it's at home?" Autolycus asked, his voice echoing faintly.

"It's a big religious day. They take the statues of the gods out of their temples and cart them around to visit each other. Dress the statues up in new clothes--" He glanced back to see Autolycus' incredulous expression and shrugged. "I know, I know. It's weird, but they enjoy it. The biggest part is when they take Amun-Re from the temple at Karnak to the temple at Luxor."

"So it's like a big holiday for the gods." Autolycus stopped, cocked his head, then frowned at Iolaus. "And why did that innocuous phrase just fill me with dread?"

It had filled Iolaus with dread too. He said slowly, "Because if the gods are on holiday--"

"Then who's minding the store?"

Iolaus frowned as he got to his feet, not liking the implications. He looked at the silent statue of Anubis. He would give a lot to see the dark jackal god walk out of that polished obsidian surface and offer some advice right now, even if he couldn't understand a word it said. "It still doesn't tell us where they went." The scrolls and jars on the table looked orderly enough; at least the room hadn't been disturbed by any kind of fight. Then Autolycus said sharply, "Iolaus."

He looked around, saw Autolycus on the far side of the big room, past the altar and the statue, holding up a lamp to study something on the floor. You know it's bad when he actually calls you by your name, Iolaus thought grimly, starting over to him.

Halfway there he saw the symbols written on the stone floor, the light from Autolycus' lamp catching the dark red splashes. They formed a circle on the stone, and hidden by the altar, slumped just outside that circle... "Kheper!"

The sorcerer was collapsed in a huddle. Iolaus fell to his knees, grasping the black-clothed shoulders. He pulled Kheper back so he could see his face, but he already knew the worst. There was no warmth under his hands.

Kheper's head fell back limply against Iolaus' arm. His eyes were still open, one covered by a white film and one brown, but now glassy and fixed on nothing. The ragged black robes draping the sorcerer's squat round shape revealed no blood, no wound. Livid scars marked his cheeks and patterns of blue and red tattoos covered his bald skull, vivid and clearly visible against his dark skin, but that was normal.

Iolaus swore bitterly, then made himself say it aloud. "He's dead."

"Yeah." Autolycus winced in sympathy. "Looks like he's been that way a while."

"No. He...always looked like that." Iolaus eased him down to lay flat on the stone floor, with that instinct to let the dead rest in a comfortable position, though he of all people should know how pointless that was. He sat back and passed a hand over his face, looking away. "He was an immortal."

"Immortal doesn't mean invulnerable."

"I know that," Iolaus snapped. "Believe me, I know that."

"Take it easy, Curly," Autolycus said gruffly. Iolaus felt him ruffle his hair. "We're not licked yet."

Right. Think. There had to be some clue here to what had happened. He gestured helplessly to the symbols written on the floor. Some looked vaguely like the picture writing, but he couldn't make head or tail of it. "He was doing a spell. Had done a spell." He saw one of Kheper's gnarled hands was clutched in a fist. Carefully he pried it open, hearing something click against the armor of scarab rings and the little metal claws attached to the sorcerer's fingers. He managed to get the death grip to release and saw Kheper had held a handful of bright colored stones, some with crystal lights deep inside. Something for the spell. He hesitated, but without a clue what it was, he couldn't afford to disturb it. He shook his head, setting the hand carefully down.

He stood, taking a deep breath. "We need to find Herc. And I think I know where he's going to be." He thought they were right about the gods' holiday being involved in all this somehow. And if it was, whatever had happened, it had happened at the temple of Amun-Re.

***

The sphinx ignored them as they left the house; it was apparently enspelled just to guard, not to answer questions. Driven by urgency, Iolaus led Autolycus a direct route from the high ground where Kheper's house stood back down into the city. They ducked through empty houses, deserted stables and goat pens, and an abandoned goldsmith's workshop where the beaten gold for collars and armbands and rings lay scattered like straw on the dirt floor, gleaming faintly in the starlight. Iolaus thought that would give Autolycus pause, but the King of Thieves seemed more emotionally affected than anything else. "Damn, this is giving me the creeps," he confided just after that, as they reached the narrower streets of the lower city. "It's like a ghost city, except even the ghosts scrammed."

They crossed Davrios' trail at the avenue of sphinxes that led to Amun-Re's temple, and Iolaus spotted the firelight through the temple gates. "There, that's the temple. And it looks like something's going on there." He looked around at the surrounding roofs, trying to figure out where Hercules would be.

Autolycus stopped abruptly. "Did you hear--"

Iolaus stepped sideways, drawing his sword. "Yeah." It had been a low animal noise, a little too high pitched for a growl. He hoped it was some noble's stray hunting cat, but he had the feeling that wasn't going to be the case. Not in this haunted city. He heard an answering hoot from the opposite side of the avenue, and a scuffle as something light and fast moved over the stone. He turned to face it, putting his back toward Autolycus. "It sounds like apes. Or primoids," he said softly.

"They have those in Egypt?" Autolycus mused, swinging his grappling hook and managing to make it look casual. "You learn something new every day."

"That might be-- Hey!"

A dark shape flew at Iolaus and he ducked sideways, slashing at it. Two more followed the first before he could take a breath and in an instant there were dozens. Iolaus whirled, ducked and thrust, peripherally aware of Autolycus whipping his grappling hook like a mace, driving off a growling cluster of the things.

This could be bad, Iolaus thought, teeth gritted, shoving away a creature that clawed for his throat. Then Hercules landed in the middle of the fight, sending three of them flying with a blow from a broken post. Iolaus swore in relief and set to driving the rest of the things off.

Most were dead or fled when one large suicidal one flung itself straight at him. His sword caught in its chest, knocking him over backward as the thing's body slammed him into the ground. It had a wiry build and he felt bristly hair under his hand as he shoved it off, grimacing at the rank odor of it.

Hercules was at his side as he rolled to his feet. "All right?"

"Yeah." Iolaus couldn't make out any more movement among the row of sphinx statues, but that didn't mean anything. "What were they?" he demanded. "Some kind of ape?"

"Some wacky kind of ape," Autolycus answered, sounding taken aback. "Take a look at those teeth. Yeesh."

Autolycus had crouched down to examine one of the dead creatures. Iolaus saw him lift the thing's muzzle, exposing a long snout that should belong to a crocodile, the teeth gleaming in the starlight. Iolaus grimaced. "That's about all we needed." He looked up at Hercules, taking a deep breath. "We found Kheper."

Hercules read his expression, his brows drawing together. "Dead?"

"Yeah." Iolaus somehow didn't want to say it.

Hercules grimaced. He didn't want to believe it. It was deeply worrying that whatever had happened here, it had been powerful enough to take out Kheper. Hercules had seen a little of what the sorcerer was capable of. And he didn't want to think of that irascible old man who had done so much for him as.... "Permanently?"

Iolaus shrugged one shoulder, shaking his head. "I couldn't tell," he admitted.

"What do you mean, permanently? How would--" Autolycus began, then rolled his eyes and muttered, "Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. Go on."

"Did you find Davrios?" Iolaus asked urgently.

Hercules nodded. "I found the trap. Come on."

***

From the vantage point of the roof that looked down on the temple's forecourt, Iolaus winced. Yeah. That's got trap written all over it. The court was large and square, floored with paving stones and surrounded by a low wall lined with carved columns, and lit now with dozens of torches in brackets. Two great pylons marked the entrance to the court, and another two the entrance to the building itself. In the open space in the center a wooden post had been erected, the cracked stone around its base showing it had been thrust straight through the paving into the ground beneath. Nebula was standing beside it, her hands in manacles chained to the post. It was hard to tell at this distance, but she looked unhurt, and she was still wearing the russet gown. Behind her, a group of about twenty people huddled on the pavement, men, women, and even a few children. They were all dressed in white, with gold glinting on collars and armbands, and some of the men had the shaved heads and leopard-skin capes of the priests. They were people from the temple, obviously, but he couldn't see what was keeping them from fleeing. "Why are they-- Oh, never mind."

Davrios' four-armed troll, its skin dark red in the torchlight, stalked out of the shelter of the columns along the wall, its growl audible even up here. It was swinging a large spike-studded club.

"Oh yeah," Autolycus commented, crouched on the roof next to Iolaus. "It wouldn't be a party without Uglycakes there. So, what's the plan, dare I ask?"

Hercules sat up, shifting back away from the roof's edge. "We need a distraction out front, so we can go in the back. We can use Autolycus to--"

Inspiration struck and Iolaus pushed himself up to face Hercules, lifting his brows. "Davrios -- or whoever's in there -- doesn't know Auto is with us."

"As far as we know." Hercules eyed him warily. "But--"

"As far as we know, he doesn't know you're here," Iolaus persisted. "His ogre-thing tried to grab me, right before you got there. Maybe it was going to kill me, but maybe Davrios wanted to make sure you'd follow him, and he wasn't entirely sure you'd do that for Nebula." The idea was even better the more he thought about it. Bouncing with excitement, he continued, "So what if I go in the front and act like I'm here alone, while you and Auto go in the back."

Hercules shook his head. "Hold it, I don't think--"

"Because we have to remember," Iolaus delivered this with a certain amount of satisfaction. "This is not about who's going to be taking the biggest risk, it's about acting together to get Nebula out of danger. And we don't have time to argue about it."

Hercules' concerned frown turned into an annoyed glare. Autolycus nodded solemnly, giving the demigod a conciliatory slap on the back, commenting, "Yeah, I knew that one was going to come back to bite you in the ass."

***

It needed to look like a real attempt at a rescue, rather than just a distraction. To this end, Iolaus went back to a deserted weapons shop for nobles that Hercules had noticed on his way here. In the dark silence of the deserted stall, he selected a powerful bow, built up of layers of horn and tough springy wood, covered over with bark. It was curved in the reverse direction of the shot, to give added power. Iolaus thought if anything would do the job, this was it. He took a quiver of war arrows with sharp copper points and a coil of rope as well.

Hercules and Autolycus had already left to make their way around the side of the temple complex and enter from a less conspicuous spot. The complex was large, most of it unlit, and they knew from their previous time here there was a second pylon gate opening to an avenue to the temple of Mut. It would be easier to go over the wall there, but Hercules had made it clear he was not reconciled to this plan.

"Come on, this is always the plan," Iolaus had said, trying to mollify him. They were standing in the alleyway behind the building they had used to spy on the temple forecourt, and Iolaus could barely see the demigod in the deep shadow. "I distract them, you jump them. This is how it always works."

Hercules made an annoyed huffing noise. "Why is that not filling me with confidence? There's still too much we don't know. Who's behind Davrios, what happened to Kheper, who set the sphinx to guard his house--"

The fact that the demigod was right about all this made it even more frustrating. Exasperated, Iolaus demanded, "Do you have a better idea?"

"No! Look, just--" Hercules gestured vaguely, then rested a hand Iolaus' shoulder. "I just--"

He was interrupted by Autolycus saying, "Hey, I'm averting my eyes, but hurry it up. We don't have all night. Well, we have all the night we can handle, but--"

Hercules swore under his breath, clapping a hand over his eyes. Iolaus said tiredly, "Just be careful, and don't get mad and punch Auto...more than you have to."

Making his way back to the temple now, alert for any sign of the crocodile-ape creatures, Iolaus thought Hercules and Autolycus should have had enough time to get around the side of the temple. Right. Let's get this over with. He paused to string the powerful bow, then slung it over his shoulder.

He approached the temple entrance carefully. The wooden gates, carved with lotus shapes, were shut and firelight from the torches along the walls revealed the brightly-colored picture writing covering the sloping sides of the two guardian pylons. Moving down the wall, Iolaus tied a loop in the end of the rope, eyeing the stone projections along the top.

He stepped back and cast the rope, leaning to test it when it caught. Swarming up, he crawled onto the top of the wall, flattening himself onto the cool stone surface.

Damn, that is one big mother of a troll, he thought with a grimace. It stalked near the huddled group of captives, swinging the spike-studded club, the torchlight glinting off its red skin. Nebula still stood chained to the pillar, and from here he could see her grim expression. Behind her, the group of hostages huddled on the pavement.

Iolaus took a deep breath and shoved to his feet, calming and centering himself. He was only going to get the one shot and it had to hit the target. Slipping the bow off his shoulder, he nocked an arrow, shouting, "Troll! Remember me?"

It spun around, snarling, and in the instant its eyes searched for him along the top of the wall, Iolaus drew and fired.

The arrow struck true, right into the troll's left eye. It shrieked in agony, staggering, clawing at the shaft. Iolaus whooped in triumph, stepped to the edge of the wall and leapt down, landing on his feet on the paved court. Iolaus started to draw another arrow, meaning to use it to split Nebula's chains, but the way she stood he didn't have a clear shot.

Swearing, Iolaus bolted toward her, wondering if Davrios had drugged her. He couldn't think why she hadn't turned toward him. "Hey, hostages, everybody run for the front gate! Come on, what are you waiting--" He slid to an abrupt halt. She still wasn't looking at him, the hostages weren't running. He studied her, taking another step forward, realizing from this closer vantage point that the russet silk gown wasn't torn or stained, that it looked as fine as it had in the palace's banquet hall. And she was wearing two gold armbands. "Oh, shit," Iolaus breathed aloud. He touched the band on his wrist, the one Auto had found on the boat. He was certain it was hers. She left it as a warning. She realized Davrios was making a duplicate of her, an illusion, and-- He drew another arrow and just to make sure, aimed at the wooden pillar well above her head. The shaft flew straight, right through the pillar, striking the stone wall of the temple some distance beyond it.

Iolaus swore again. Nebula, the hostages, it was all an illusion. All this trouble to avoid the trap and we walked right into it. He looked wildly around, but the troll still clawed at its eye and the bright red fluid streaming from the mortal wound, staggering on the paving stones. If it was a trap, then why hadn't it sprung yet?

Because it's not a trap for you, he thought suddenly, aghast. If this was just a distraction, then the real trap must be inside, and Hercules and Autolycus were walking right into it.

He ran for the temple's main door, a large gold portal set between two carved and painted pylons. Reaching it, he tugged at the gold handle, expecting it to be heavy, and almost fell in a heap when the door swung wide, light as a feather. He looked back, just in time to see Nebula, the pillar, and the group of hostages disappear. Swearing, Iolaus plunged into the temple.

***

Hercules hadn't been inside the temple of Amun-Re on their previous visit, but from what he understood of Egyptian temples it should follow a standard plan of peristyle halls, each more important than the one before, leading up to the sanctuary, with a series of chambers off to the side for various purposes.

He and Autolycus made their way around to the east side, passing the great pylon gate that opened into the other avenue of sphinxes, leading to the temple of Mut. With Autolycus' grappling hook they got over the wall and crossed an empty sand-paved court, ominous and silent in the dark. A series of walled compounds and gates lay between this court and the torchlit one where Nebula and the other hostages were being held. Pausing to look toward it, Hercules could only catch a hint of reflected firelight. Iolaus, be careful, he thought, something he couldn't say aloud too often since Iolaus never wanted to hear it. Autolycus tapped him impatiently on the arm and he realized he had stopped in his tracks, still looking toward that muted glow of light past the walls. He nodded and kept moving.

There was just enough light to keep them from falling into the reflecting pool that lay just before the temple wall. Following the wall, Autolycus tripped over a set of broad steps and they went up to a terrace where a darker square in the wall marked a wide doorway. Hercules caught Autolycus' jerkin and hauled him back before the King of Thieves could step inside. He wasn't entirely sure the expected trap wasn't in the temple, and if it was, he wanted to be the one to walk into it.

Leaving Autolycus straightening his tunic in a pointedly huffy way, Hercules stepped through the door. He paused just inside, letting his eyes adjust. After a moment he could tell there was another doorway in the wall ahead, outlined by faint candlelight. Making his way across the room with Autolycus following in silence, he took a cautious look through the opening.

It led into one of the wide peristyle halls, where alabaster oil lamps guttered in gold stands, chasing shadows over tall columns covered with the picture writing picked out in bright colored inlay. He thought they were about midway down the length of the temple, not far from the sanctuary. He had to make sure Davrios wasn't lurking in the back part of the temple. A breath of wind brushed his skin, making his flesh creep; the temple did not feel unoccupied. I have a bad feeling about this, he thought grimly. Though he hadn't seen Amun-Re manifested long enough to get a strong sense of its presence, he knew that whatever was here, it wasn't the god the temple had been built to honor.

Hercules started down the hall, the dark marble floor so finely polished it threw back the ghost of his reflection flanked by little pools of fire from the oil lamps. He could smell the heavy temple incense, a mix of myrrh and sandalwood, but under it was something sour, like the odor of rot. Autolycus had his grappling hook out and kept darting worried looks up into the shadows clustered just beneath the ceiling, as if he sensed something watching them.

There were doors between some of the pillars, leading into side chambers. Hercules paused to look into each one they encountered, but all were empty. They were nearing a set of golden doors that must open into the sanctuary. Cross corridors led off to the right and left, but no lamps were lit in either and they were just dark echoing spaces. But as they drew closer to the sanctuary doors Hercules saw those weren't shadows obscuring the incised metal, but burns, as if a ghidra had forced its way in. Oh, I'd be grateful if it was just a ghidra, he thought, ready to be unpleasantly surprised.

Then soundlessly the doors started to open. "And here I was hoping nobody was home," Autolycus muttered, heartfelt.

Hercules braced to charge whatever sprang out at them but as the doors opened, he stared, baffled.

The space beyond was lit by leaping firelight and there was no mistaking what he saw. Lying in an unconscious heap on the marble floor just past the doors, her dress a pool of russet silk around her, was Nebula. If that's her, who -- what -- is Iolaus rescuing outside?

Autolycus frowned, eyeing her suspiciously. "Hey, isn't that--"

"Uh huh." Hercules stepped forward, cautiously scanning the room that lay beyond. It was a vast shadowy chamber, flanked by pillars soaring up into darkness. A three step dais at its center led up to a low altar that stood just before a large empty plinth. Fires burned in great pits to either side of the altar and a big alabaster bowl suspended overhead held burning sweet scented oil. To one side a granite statue lay shattered on the floor. Iolaus was right, this did happen on the Feast of Amun Re, the day they move the statues. The room looked blasted, the stone walls and pillars bare of gold or inlay or paint, blackened and stained with soot. Gouged-out shapes in the walls and altar suggested ankhs and other carved or inlaid symbols had been forcibly removed. Considering that the ankh represented life, he couldn't see that as a favorable sign. There was no evidence of Davrios, or anyone other than Nebula.

She stirred, making a pain-filled murmur, and tried to lift a hand to her head. Hercules saw her hands and feet were bound and had to give up on caution. He took the last few steps into the room, stooping to snap the rope around her ankles and hauling her to her feet. Her gown was torn and stained with sweat and dirt, and blood matted the hair above her temple. "Ow," she muttered through gritted teeth, then opened her eyes and saw him. "Get out of here, you idiot, it's a trap," she growled.

Warily trying to watch the room and the open hallway at the same time, Autolycus snorted. "Ask the dame something we don't know."

"Don't worry about it." Hercules freed her hands and started to lift her up, then halted abruptly.

There was a figure standing in front of the altar where none had been before, framed by the firelight. Hercules felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. It was dressed as an Egyptian noble, in pleated linen robe and gold beaded collar. But its limbs were gray and desiccated, its head a skull with dead flesh stretched over it, eyes white and staring, teeth bared in a permanent rictus smile.

Autolycus saw it and made a strangled gasp. It cocked its head, stepped down off the dais, and said, "So you came."

Its voice rasped in its throat and Hercules expected its dry skin and bones to crackle with each step, but its robe swept soundlessly over the marble. Yeah, we're in trouble. Hercules said brightly, "Sorry, wrong temple, we were looking for Davrios." He deposited Nebula in Autolycus' arms, adding, "Get her out of here."

"Davrios." It spoke the name as if recalling some long dead figure of legend. "I owe him a great debt. He found my tomb, and did the ceremony of the Opening of the Mouth on my husk, which--"

"I know what it does." Hercules knew it well. It was part of the process for returning a dead body to life. He didn't want to spare a look over his shoulder. "Auto, are you gone yet?"

Autolycus backed toward the doors, pulling Nebula with him, saying with tension, "Not that I'm inclined to argue, Big Guy, but I think you should be running too."

Nebula was half leaning on him to stay upright, half trying to shake him off. "Hercules, he wants you. Get out of there," she said desperately.

Ignoring them all, the creature said, "If you know of the Opening of the Mouth, then you know more than Davrios."

"I'd like to leave, believe me," Hercules answered Autolycus and Nebula, his voice grating in his own ears. "But I can't move my feet." He had been unable to move since the creature had stepped down off the dais. It was a distinctly unsettling sensation, as if the lower half of his body had turned to stone. He knew that wasn't the worst. "And I didn't come all this way to not rescue anybody, so Auto, get her out of here, warn Iolaus."

It was close to him now and he could see it wore a gold circlet on its head, with a small carved vulture just above its brow. He knew that was a royal symbol, something only a Pharaoh or a Queen should wear. The Pharaoh he had met was a young boy, his Queens all equally young girls, and none bore any resemblance to this thing. It said, "He thought the ceremony would enable me to talk, so he could question me and learn the secrets of my sorcery. He had done this before, to the raddled bones of a sorcerer from a place called Thera, and learned much of power that way."

"He should have been satisfied with that." Hercules' plan, such as it was, was to wait until it was within arm's reach then hit it really hard. But as it stepped near he realized he couldn't lift his arms, either.

"Yes, he should have." Then it put its hand on his forehead.

***

Heart pounding, Iolaus raced down the length of the temple hall, shadows gathering threateningly between the columns, the oil lamps flickering in an intangible wind. As he neared the end of the great echoing space he saw Autolycus and Nebula -- the real Nebula, bedraggled, angry and missing a gold armband -- stagger out of a doorway. The doors slammed shut behind them with a bang that rang off the stone. Iolaus skidded to a halt, demanding, "Where's Herc?"

Supporting Nebula with one arm, Autolycus turned to him, wild-eyed. "He's in there, and it's bad. It was a trap, some kind of mummified dead thing--"

"What?" Iolaus started for the doors, but a sudden enraged animal shriek rang out and he spun around. The hooting and howling of the ape creatures seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. He couldn't see them but they had to be coming from somewhere down the dark cross-corridor.

Nebula pushed away from Autolycus, stumbling uncertainly. "Iolaus, listen," she said urgently. "It took over Hercules' body, that what it wanted, that's why it got you here. It sent Davrios to Greece to lure Hercules here--"

Iolaus stared at her, the words seeming to ring in his ears. She did not just say that. He had to get in there. The ape creatures howled in chorus again, closer this time. With a curse, Iolaus realized Autolycus and Nebula were as good as unarmed. He shed bow and quiver, handing both to Autolycus. "Get out of here."

Autolycus took the weapons automatically. "Iolaus, what the -"

Nebula made a wild grab for his arm. "Iolaus, you can't--"

Iolaus stepped away from her, drawing his sword and shoving at the door. It swung open and he saw Hercules, standing like a statue, next to a dead man or thing dressed in Egyptian robes. Its claw-like hand lay on the demigod's forehead. With a yell, Iolaus plunged into the room.

But Hercules turned toward him and Iolaus saw his eyes. He halted dead in his tracks.

Hercules had said once that when Dahak had possessed Iolaus' body, he had been able to see it staring out of his eyes.

Iolaus hadn't really understood what he had meant until this moment.

The mummy, creature, whatever it was, fell away from the demigod, striking the stone floor and smashing into pieces. Bones and fabric scattered in a puff of dust, but Iolaus barely saw it. He stared, numb, at that other being behind Hercules' eyes.

Frozen with sick horror, he couldn't look away, couldn't move. Wasn't aware that noise behind him was Nebula shouting at him to run, didn't hear that her voice was ragged with fear and anger. He managed to choke out, "What are you?"

"You don't believe the evidence of your eyes?"

It was Hercules speaking, but it wasn't quite Hercules' voice. There was no obvious alteration in tone or timbre, but Iolaus could hear the difference. "Where is he?" he demanded, his own voice thick with horror. "What did you do to him?"

"Too bad. It would have been amusing to fool you." He -- It -- stepped toward him and Iolaus' sword came up without his conscious volition, pointed toward its chest. "Would you kill this body?" It touched the point of the sword lightly.

For Iolaus it wasn't even a conscious decision; the one thing he couldn't do was kill. It moved the point aside and Iolaus let the sword drop from nerveless fingers. "I didn't think so." It stepped closer, a hand under his chin lifting his head. He looked up at Hercules' face, seeing something else move under the skin. The hand moved down, resting against his throat, almost absently, half caress and half menace, like a priest petting a sacrificial goat to calm it. "I could kill you so easily. Mortal bodies seem so delicate now. I wonder that I ever managed to survive in one as long as I did."

I don't know what this thing is, Iolaus thought, panic abruptly overcoming numb shock. He didn't know if Hercules was still in there, trapped in his own body, or if he was...somewhere else. And if he let this thing kill him, there would be no one to get Hercules back. He wrenched backward but it moved too fast, catching his arm and yanking him toward it. With his free arm Iolaus punched it just under the breastbone.

The hit to the vulnerable spot made it gasp and relax its grip just long enough for Iolaus to wrench free. He staggered, turning for the door but it caught his vest and swung him around, holding him against its chest with one arm pinned to his side, hauling him right to the edge of the firepit. Iolaus gripped its arm convulsively, looking down into the raging flame. Heat bathed his face and he had a vision of this thing going back to do to Greece what it had done here, plunge the land into darkness, leave the cities empty monster-haunted shells. If it drops you, you have to take it with you, he thought in desperation. But it didn't drop him.

It said calmly, "I'm reluctant to dispose of you. How very odd."

Hope leapt in his heart, more painful than despair. He wet his lips and said raggedly, "Hercules-- If you're in there--"

"He's not here. When I entered this body I forced the inhabiting ka out, but perhaps some trace remains in the godhood. Perhaps that's the difficulty."

Ka was one of the Egyptian words for soul. For part of the soul. The important part. Sickened, Iolaus thought, No, just...no.

It rocked forward suddenly, jerking him off his feet. Iolaus yelped, gripping Hercules' vest with his one free hand. It didn't drop him, and he took a sharp breath, realizing it was testing its resolve not to kill him. Continuing as if nothing had happened, it said, "Such half-mortal abominations are not permitted in the Two Lands. But they have advantages over true gods, so I sent Davrios to bring me one."

"What are you?" Iolaus asked again, trying to ignore the fire leaping not far below his boots. He had to get it to tell him more.

It laughed. "Why shouldn't you know?" Still braced to be thrown into the pit, Iolaus had no chance to prepare when it suddenly turned and flung him toward the altar. He hit the steps with bruising force, sprawling across them. He pushed himself up, twisting to face it and putting his back against the altar's cold stone. It strolled to the base of the dais to stand over him. "I am Chephren," it said. "But that isn't a name you know, is it, little Greek barbarian?"

Iolaus bared his teeth. "No, I've dealt with a lot of evil murdering bastards, but I've never heard of you."

Chephren moved, too fast to avoid, knocking aside the arm Iolaus flung up to shield his head and grabbing him by the hair. Iolaus clawed at its arm, kicked, trying to wrench away even if he lost most of his scalp, but it pulled him up onto his knees. Unperturbed by his struggles, it said conversationally, "I was a great Pharaoh, until the throne and my life were taken from me by a jealous god."

Let me guess which god, Iolaus thought grimly, holding onto the gauntleted arm to try to stay upright. Amun-Re lived inside the Pharaoh, or part of it did. I just met you and I'd like to kill you. He could imagine how the god had felt, stuck in a mortal body with this personality. But Pharaohs were gods themselves; they were Horus Incarnate or something like that. "But you--"

He yelped as Chephren dragged him off the steps, pulling him around to face the shattered statue. "But that god has paid for it," Chephren said, sounding deeply satisfied. The gold-sheathed granite was broken into a dozen pieces, the head facing the wall it had rolled toward, like a forgotten child's toy. The statue's base was mostly intact, and underneath it was an elaborately carved wooden sledge, painted and gilded. The priests were moving it, taking it to the other temple for the ceremony, Iolaus thought, remembering the calendar at Kheper's house. If it wasn't just about the statues, if the god was actually in there when they moved it.... Uh oh.

Iolaus' eyes were watering from the pain and his neck felt like it was about to snap but he had to keep Chephren talking. He had to find out what had happened here -- it was the only hope of fixing it. He said, "You killed Amun-Re?"

"I did worse." It released him and he fell forward, catching himself on the marble floor. Breathing hard, he looked up warily as Chephren stepped around him. "I broke its power." Chephren nudged a chunk of stone with one of Hercules' boots. "Stupid thing for a god to do, to place its essence into a stone receptacle to please a mewling pack of priests and worshippers."

"I don't understand." Except Iolaus was beginning to have the horrible feeling that he did understand.

"Amun was nothing, a provincial desert god, before it enticed Re to join with it." Chephren shrugged, the gesture so like and unlike one of Hercules' that Iolaus' gut twisted in pure pain. "When I shattered the statue Amun-Re inhabited it split the god back in two, into Amun and Re. And Amun is far weaker than Re."

Iolaus eyed him, translating that to mean that even on its own, Re could smash Chephren into pieces, but Amun couldn't. "Is Amun dead?"

"I don't know why I don't destroy you." Chephren paced back toward him, distracted. "There is no point in keeping you alive, except for amusement."

Iolaus retreated, scrambling back on the cool marble floor. Jumping up and running would just activate that predator's instinct to pounce, but he sensed his time was running out. "Why did Re put out the sun?"

"I told it to. Foolish Re would do anything to save Amun. It doesn't realize the useless creature has been riding it like a parasite. But I've answered enough questions." As quick as a striking snake, it caught the shoulder of his vest before he could dodge. "I think I'll explore your amusement value."

"Think again." Nebula stood in the doorway, drawing the bow Iolaus had given Autolycus. Her face was set, her hair hung in ragged hanks and her torn gown fluttered in the draft. Iolaus shook his head numbly. It wasn't a question of the right decision; it was the only decision. Killing Hercules' body to kill Chephren might be the only choice, but he wasn't ready to give up hope yet. "Nebula, don't--"

With an annoyed snort, Chephren dropped Iolaus and stepped toward her. Nebula changed her aim at the last instant, pointing the bow upward and letting fly. Iolaus didn't need to look; he shoved off the ground, diving away as the arrow struck the chain supporting the alabaster fire bowl overhead.

Chephren dodged with an angry shout as the bowl hit the marble floor. Burning oil and broken alabaster sprayed the chamber. Iolaus rolled to his feet, bolting for the door. Nebula was already running and he caught up with her in the peristyle hall, saying, "Where's Autolycus?"

"Distracting the apes." Nebula threw a desperate look over her shoulder. "There's an outside door somewhere midway down. We'll meet him in the court--"

Out of the dark recesses of the temple, splashed with waning firelight, Autolycus ran toward them, waving wildly. "Go back!" Leaping and bounding behind him were dozens of the ape-creatures. "No dice, they cut me off!" he shouted as Iolaus and Nebula skidded to a halt.

"Crap," Nebula muttered. Iolaus looked back. In the confusion of light and shadow he saw Chephren striding unhurriedly toward them. The familiar features were set in hard lines. If there's nothing of Hercules left in there at all...I don't know where to look for him, what I'm going to do, he thought, his heart contracting in despair.

There was only one door along this stretch, a large gold chased portal between two pillars. Autolycus reached it first, tugging the handle. It didn't move. "Buy me some time, kids," he snapped, shaking a set of picks out of his sleeve and dropping to his knees to work the lock.

Iolaus turned back, seeing the apes were nearly on them. As Nebula fired an arrow into the pack, he grabbed an oil lamp off one of the candlestands, slinging the oil across the hall then tossing the burning wick into it. The apes halted in a confused scramble as flames leapt up, but there wasn't enough oil to burn for long.

Nebula fired another arrow, then looked back at Chephren's relentless approach. She swore hopelessly. "Iolaus, I--"

"Hah!" Autolycus leapt to his feet, pulling the heavy door open. "Come on, vamoose!"

Iolaus looked toward Chephren. It saw the door swing open and broke into a run, though there was no change to its expression. Nebula was dragging at Iolaus' arm, hauling him off balance. Running away felt like he was abandoning Hercules, but staying here, letting Chephren torture him, wouldn't tell him how to help his partner. He followed Nebula, ducking inside and getting only a brief glimpse of a large shadowy room, lit by more of the guttering oil lamps. Autolycus swung half the heavy portal closed and Iolaus grabbed the other half.

A roar of rage filled the columned hall, bringing a heavy darkness with it. Iolaus felt the door stick as if something had frozen it in place. Swearing desperately he braced his feet, shoving against it. He felt the jolt as Nebula added her shoulder and Autolycus flung himself against it.

The darkness just outside seemed to gather, then it struck like a battering ram. Iolaus felt the door come loose but had no chance to shout a warning or push the others away, no chance to dodge. He hit the marble floor, the air leaving his lungs as the heavy weight landed on him, and everything went black.

***

Iolaus came to with the taste of his own blood in his mouth, aware that he lay sprawled on his back on a hard cool surface. He didn't move, knowing that if he did that would be admitting that this wasn't a particularly inventive nightmare, that what had just happened had really happened, and he would rather lie here until he rotted. But he could hear voices and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop hearing them.

"He sundered the god's statue, and this sundered the god." It was a boy's voice, unfamiliar, speaking perfect Greek with only a trace of accent.

"And Amun jumped into you." That was Autolycus. Under the tone of habitual skepticism, he sounded deeply worried.

"It sought a mortal to bring forth Horus Incarnate and I was the only one left within its reach. Horus could destroy Chephren." The boy sounded terribly earnest.

"You didn't mind...this?" That was Nebula, her voice tight with tension.

"No. Pharaoh becomes Horus Incarnate all the time, and it doesn't hurt him."

It isn't a dream. Get up. He must have groaned under his breath, because Nebula said sharply, "Iolaus?"

He pushed himself up on one arm, wincing as his head swam. He pressed a hand to his forehead, willing the ache to go away. There has to be a way out of this. He can't be gone. It wouldn't happen like that, it was too quick. They were sitting on a polished marble floor and through a large square archway he could see the shadowy hall of the main temple. A few feet beyond his boots the air shimmered, as if it was a thick cloth sewn with skeins of silk.

"We're safe -- sort of. But compared to say, oh, actually being out of danger, we're deeply screwed," Autolycus explained. He jerked a thumb toward the boy. "The kid was locked in here, but he can make this barrier thing to keep away our ape buddies and...uh...." he trailed off.

"Its name is Chephren," Iolaus said. He squinted, realizing things moved in the shadows just past the reach of the guttering lamps. He heard a grunt from one of the ape-creatures and grimaced. They were surrounded by the things.

Nebula and Autolycus sat nearby with a stranger, the Egyptian boy he had heard. He couldn't be more than fourteen or fifteen, dressed in a formal robe of white pleated linen, now stained and dusty, his dark eyes outlined with kohl. His head was shaved to a dark fuzz, to accommodate one of the Egyptian formal wigs. "Who's this?" Iolaus asked, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"This boy is a singer in the temple," Nebula explained. Iolaus noticed she was avoiding his gaze, talking at him but not to him. At the moment he could care less. "He was there when Chephren attacked Amun-Re and Amun ended up inside him. It's not powerful enough to take on Chephren, but it's keeping him at bay with this barrier." With a grim expression, she gestured to the gently undulating curtain of light. "Without this, we're dead."

Autolycus was eyeing him uneasily. "You okay, Curly?"

It was a stupid question so Iolaus didn't bother to answer it. He asked the boy, "So why didn't it work? Why didn't Horus appear?"

The boy shifted to face him, pulling his linen robe open to expose his chest. There was a charred red hole just above his heart, shockingly raw. "Chephren killed me."

Iolaus stared, then swallowed in a dry throat. Autolycus winced and looked away and Nebula swore quietly.

"Amun needs a living ka, given by a mortal worshipper, to bring Horus into being." The boy looked down at the wound, wincing sadly. "It tried to knit my flesh together, but without Re, it was too slow." He looked up. "There are no others now for Amun to go into. Chephren sent them away, into some other place, everyone in the city, even the animals too, I think. He brought the ape-demons here from that place, to guard him from you."

Autolycus swore, shaking his head. "First Hercules-- Then we're sitting here with a dead kid-- Sorry, kid." He ran a hand through his hair, looking a little desperate. "What in Tartarus is this Chephren thing, some kind of demon-god-what's-it?"

"He's a Pharaoh, a dead Pharaoh. But the Pharaoh is a man made into a god." Iolaus took a deep breath, trying to think. "There was a sphinx guarding Kheper's house. It said the god knew me. Was Amun the god it meant?"

The boy tilted his head, listening to some inner voice, and Iolaus felt his flesh creep. For an instant there was a light in the boy's eyes that didn't come from anything mortal. Yeah, there's something in there with him all right, Iolaus thought, sickened. If the fatal wound wasn't proof enough.

The boy shook his head slightly, blinking. "It was Horus. He moves through the city, trying to find a way to defend it, to reach us-- Me-- Him. But he cannot become flesh and enter the mortal realm without Pharaoh -- the real Pharaoh, or a living substitute."

There's that again. If it was a hint, Iolaus wasn't going to take it. "What about--"

"What about me?" Nebula interrupted. "I'm a live mortal. It could use me to make Horus."

"Nebula, no! Are you out of your mind?" Iolaus snapped.

"Whoa, whoa, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Autolycus said hurriedly. "I'm not an expert and I haven't even been dead the once, but I've been possessed and I can tell you, it's not a pleasant experience--"

Iolaus rolled his eyes and swore in disgust. "Auto, that was by Xena, it doesn't count. Nebula, there's no fucking way you're going to--"

She glared at him, saying through gritted teeth, "Will you shut up? I got us in to all this, I'll get us out."

"If anybody's going to do this--" Iolaus realized what he was saying and suddenly couldn't get the rest of the words out. So you think you'd do anything to get Hercules back. Let's see if you meant that. He had to swallow in a dry throat to get his voice back. He took a sharp breath. "--it'll be me."

Nebula swore an oath so foul Iolaus had never heard it before and wasn't sure what it meant. She snapped, "No, forget that, I won't--"

Autolycus began, "Again with the lousy idea--"

"No." The voice was quiet but it commanded instant silence.

The boy was looking at them and his eyes were windows on another being, something infinite. It said, "You are not willing." The god's voice was different, not just deeper, but something in the tone was as profoundly alien as what looked out of those eyes. It still spoke Greek but the faint lisp and accent was gone. The boy blinked, back again. "And it says your heart is given to another god." He looked at Nebula. "And your heart is given to no god at all." Then at Autolycus. "As is yours." The boy gestured helplessly. "It has to be someone whose heart is open to Amun."

Iolaus looked away, suddenly unable to look into those eyes and what was behind them. Nebula took a sharp breath, shaking her head, but didn't argue. Autolycus said warily, "I'd still like to make it clear that I wasn't on the volunteer list."

"So you're Amun." Iolaus made himself look at it. "You remember the future like it's the past, or you're supposed to. Why didn't you see this coming?" He found himself gritting his teeth, jaw aching, to keep from shouting.

The god looked at him again out of the dead boy's eyes. "As a Pharaoh he had our godhood, and there is a part of us in a mortal body that never entirely fades, even in death. I could not see what he would do, because a part of him is still me." The boy took a sharp breath and added reproachfully, "No Pharaoh ever tried to kill a god before, not ever."

Footsteps sounded out in the echoing depths of the hall. Iolaus' head snapped around. He would recognize those steps anywhere. Maybe he got away from it, maybe he fought it off-- But then Chephren stepped into the doorway, into the faint firelight. Iolaus felt a rush of cold, freezing his blood, like ice in his heart. He couldn't look, he couldn't look away.

Chephren stepped into the room, a faint smile playing on familiar lips. "Don't think you've escaped me. I prefer to keep all my captives in one place."

The boy looked up, brow furrowed in a glare. He spat, adding succinctly, "Apostate. Murderer." The god appeared behind his eyes, and it said, "If they are your captives, then come and claim them."

Chephren pressed a hand against the barrier, prickles of light glinting against his flesh. "How long can you keep this up, do you think?" he said thoughtfully, patient like any big predator that knows it only has to wait. The apes clustered in the shadows hooted and growled, the light gleaming off their rows of serrated teeth.

The boy's eyes closed and opened slowly. "I am still a god, and you are a dead mortal ka with a godhood you forfeited and a stolen body."

That hit the mark. "Forfeited? Is that what you call it?" Chephren snarled. "'The Hidden One.'" His lips curled back in disgust. "You were nothing before Re and you are nothing now. God of Air! God of nothing."

The god stared out at him for a long moment, then the boy slumped as its presence faded. Chephren smiled. "You see, Amun is weak." His gaze moved over Nebula and Autolycus, resting on Iolaus. "This barrier will soon fail, and there is nothing you can do about it."

Iolaus said nothing. He didn't trust himself to speak. It was harder to look at Hercules -- what was left of Hercules -- like this. When he wasn't scrambling for answers and trying to stay alive, it was as if he could appreciate the true horror of the situation. Nebula told Chephren grimly, "You hold your breath until that happens."

Chephren gave her a mocking half-bow, then turned away, vanishing into the shadows of the outer hall.

"It isn't true. Amun is not weak," the boy said stubbornly, but his hand moved to touch his unhealed wound.

Autolycus looked at the boy's despondent face and said uneasily, "So he's the god of air. It's not exactly something we can do without. Doing without the sun was hard enough, but--"

"Without the sun?" The boy frowned, uncomprehending.

"That's why the sun's gone out," Iolaus said, rubbing his eyes. "It's blackmail. He must have told Re he'd kill you if it didn't..." He realized the boy -- the god -- was staring at him. "You didn't know." Trapped in the boy's body, maybe it couldn't know. "Re put out the sun out of fear for you," he said, not sure why he thought it mattered. It was a god, after all. It didn't think and feel like a mortal.

The boy's face gave no clue to the god's thoughts. Then it said, "Chephren draws his power from another world."

"From another what?" Nebula asked, startled by the abrupt change of subject.

It cocked the boy's head toward her, explaining, "He has opened a portal to another world, another existence. He draws the life out of it to fuel his stolen godhood and his sorcery."

Nebula threw a quick glance at Iolaus. "How do you know that?" she demanded.

"He discovered how to do it when he was Pharaoh. When we saw what he had done, we struck him dead."

She lifted her brows, saying dryly, "Fair enough."

That is crazy enough to be true, Iolaus thought. He just didn't know how it was going to help them. "Is that where he sent the other people?"

"The place he sent the mortals of Thebes is not truly another world, but a shadow, a bridge between worlds. Using the power he draws from the other world, he opens many gates to shadows, and draws creatures from them such as these." The boy's hand moved, gesturing to the apes watching hungrily from the shadows.

Iolaus nodded. He knew about the bridges between worlds; Hercules had been trapped on one once. "How do we stop him?"

"Find the portal. Go through it and destroy the ritual object Chephren has placed on the other side to keep the portal open." The god paused, watching him. "Kheper tried to do this, but he could only go through in spirit. Davrios followed to stop him from closing it. You must go through in body. The portal is somewhere in this temple."

Frowning, Nebula swore again. "I bet I know where it is. I saw Davrios go into one of the rooms off the main hall. He didn't come out. I was still out of it, so I can't be certain, but it gives us a place to start."

Autolycus nodded. "That sounds like a plan. A deranged, suicidal plan, but a plan nonetheless. It's better than sitting here waiting for feeding time at the evil ape house."

"Wait." Iolaus leaned toward the boy, watching him intently. "If we do this, if we get you back to Re, will you help us? Will you bring Hercules back? Bring everybody back? Fix all this?"

The boy's head turned back toward him and he looked into the eyes of the god. For an instant it was as if he could fall through that gaze, as if he could see its thoughts, but the sensation was gone as quickly as it came. "You need not bargain with me. I am the Hidden One, the Eighth God of Chaos, the Approachable One, the father of Ma'at. I render Justice. Bring me to Re, and there is nothing this one has wrought that I cannot un-make. He will die the death and no one will speak his name. We will obliterate him and it will be as if he never existed."

Iolaus sat back. He trusted it, though he almost hated himself for doing so. It's a foreign god that lives in mortal bodies. But that "you are not willing" kept echoing in his head. That it wouldn't take his desperate offer as true consent said a lot about the way it dealt with mortals.

Iolaus remembered what he had been told when they were here before: that when Amun-Re came to the Queen to father the next Pharaoh, it came in the guise of her husband but announced its true identity, giving her the option to refuse it. The Queen, flattered that she had been chosen to be the mother of a divine king, always accepted it.

Dahak had tricked its victims into a false show of assent, taunting them with it later like a rapist telling a woman that he knew she had wanted it.

Still suspicious, Autolycus asked, "What's this Ma'at?"

"It's the goddess of Truth," Nebula answered quietly.

Iolaus had never encountered a god like this before. Except maybe Asclepias and he was more mortal than god, no matter what his always-temporary status with Olympus was. Somewhere in the dawn of time an obscure desert air god with a highly developed sense of morality had allied with a powerful sun god, and the two of them together had become-- Something else entirely. And against everything Iolaus knew, he was going to trust it. He nodded. "I'll do it."

Part 3: Elsewhere

"I am not enjoying this."
HtLJ

"I don't know about this plan, Curly." Autolycus peered out of the doorway into the shadowy temple corridor. It was empty for the moment, but with Chephren an unpleasantly short distance away in the sanctuary and the apes roaming the place at will, it was unlikely to stay that way.

"It's the only plan we've got, Auto." But Iolaus had doubts that were eating at him like a hydra. When's the last time a god came up with a plan that worked? he asked himself bitterly. When's the last time a god came up with a plan that didn't kill most of the mortals involved?

Back in the room with Amun, behind the god's protective barrier, Autolycus had raised the first pertinent point. "So we need to lose these ape-mugs, and keep Chephren off our backs while we find this swirly doorway thing Davrios went through." The King of Thieves had nodded to himself, pleased with his summation. "And how exactly are we going to accomplish this feat again?"

Before Iolaus could answer, the boy turned his head, doing that listening-to-inner-voice thing, then said, "Oh yes, I can do that. No, I feel fine. Really, I think I'm getting better." Then he looked at them again and the god's voice said, "I will keep the shadow-creatures from following you, and distract Chephren."

Nebula eyed the boy, a skeptical line appearing between her brows. "You will?"

Frustrated, mostly because he couldn't think of anything himself, Iolaus suppressed a snarl. Now that he had time to notice, his side was starting to ache and he was beginning to admit that Chephren had cracked some of his ribs when it had held him over the fire pit. He told Amun, "She's worried because your track record for getting yourself out of trouble isn't that great."

The god had seemed unperturbed by their doubt. "Chephren has my power as Amun-Re, but he does not truly understand my power as Amun. I am a god of air and chaos." It had cocked the boy's head, its gaze meeting Iolaus', and it was like looking into a window on a millennia of time. "You can do much with chaos."

The ape-creatures had been relatively easy. Amun had pushed the air in the room up toward the ceiling, leaving a small pocket for Iolaus, Nebula and Autolycus to keep breathing. The apes had lapsed into unconsciousness and they were able to deal with the few waiting outside the door. Unfortunately Amun only had the power to do this in a localized area, and it wouldn't affect Chephren, any more than it affected the dead boy.

They had made it down the half-lit corridor and taken shelter in one of the rooms near the sanctuary, but the door Nebula had seen Davrios disappear into was in the cross-corridor. The double doors into the sanctuary stood open, and they would have to pass dangerously close to them to reach the other room.

"We don't have much choice," Nebula pointed out now. She was flattened back against the wall next to Iolaus, and he found himself very conscious of her bare arm pressed against his, the faint sweet smell of her sweat in the dark. He welcomed the distraction; it was the only thing keeping him thinking coherently. Rage at Chephren, at himself for not seeing the trap sooner, threatened to overwhelm him. He wasn't sure he believed closing the portal could defeat the dead Pharaoh and return Hercules to his body, and he was terrified that there might be no Hercules left to return. And he wasn't even thinking about the portal yet.

Maybe he trusted Amun because he understood its single-minded determination to return to Re, whatever the cost.

Autolycus glanced over at him, brow furrowed in concern, his lean face only half-visible in the reflected firelight. "One thing that bugs me -- it didn't seem worried about Chephren's plan to off it. No 'save me' shtick, just 'get me to Re' shtick."

"It's a god, it doesn't understand dying," Iolaus said, trying to explain something he had always understood instinctively from knowing Hercules and other demigods and gods, but had never tried to put into words. "I mean, it understands it, probably better than we do, but it doesn't get that it could die. It's not afraid of death." He shrugged helplessly. "That's just the way gods are. I don't even think Hercules gets that he could die. He knows it, but some part of him doesn't really believe it and so he's not afraid of it. And he thinks I'm the reckless one. I--" He realized what he was saying and cut himself off, looking away with a grimace. Part of him just refused to believe this was happening, but Nebula and Autolycus didn't need to know that.

Next to him Nebula shifted uncomfortably and interposed, "I think you're right. And I don't think Chephren means to kill it. He wants to hurt it."

Iolaus took a deep breath, swallowing pain, and made himself continue, "Yeah. Losing Re, losing its worshippers, that's the kind of thing Amun understands. That hurts it." He looked around the edge of the door again impatiently. It seemed such a short distance from here to the room where Davrios had vanished, but Chephren had Hercules' senses now and Iolaus knew just how acute those could be. And Iolaus would need a little time to figure out how to get through the portal, though he had a rough idea what he might have to do, and Nebula and Auto would need time to escape. He swore silently. They would just have to hope Amun could do what it said. "Chephren threatening to kill Amun is just going to piss it off more."

"I don't think it can get more pissed off," Autolycus put in. "That 'I will obliterate him' speech was-- Wait, here we go!"

The boy was walking down the hall toward the sanctuary, his white robe fluttering in the faint draft. The kohl was smudged under his dark eyes, the light from the alabaster lamps throwing shadows and making him look as if he had had a severe beating, instead of one fatal blow to the heart.

"What's he doing?" Nebula muttered to herself. "If he blows this...."

"We're dead," Iolaus finished, watching in grim incredulity.

Then as the boy passed their hiding place his head turned toward them and in that moment his body seemed to shimmer in the firelight and-- Iolaus was looking at himself.

His own gaze held him like a snake mesmerizing a bird. It wasn't like looking at the Jester, it was like looking into a mirror that was looking back. He had a fading green bruise on his temple and there was a spray of blood on the shoulder of his vest from the last ape he had killed. The other him lifted a brow in ironic salute and broke the connection, looking grimly down the hall toward the sanctuary.

Iolaus jerked back from the door, swearing, feeling his skin creep. That was...that was.... Not what I needed just now. He found himself meeting Nebula's shocked gaze. She whispered, "It's paying us back for that comment about not being able to get itself out of trouble." She took a deep breath, taking another cautious look out the door. "Bastard."

Iolaus looked again just in time to see him -- it -- stride through the door of the sanctuary. "This just gets to be a bigger barrel of fun all the time," Autolycus growled. "Let's go."

Still disoriented from the encounter, Iolaus pushed off the wall, moving quietly out the door and across the open hall, keeping his steps as soundless as possible. Behind him Nebula was just as quiet and Autolycus might as well have been floating. Iolaus felt like he had a target on his back, and almost faltered as he heard his own voice come faintly from beyond the doors. Oh, I hope this crazy god knows what it's doing.

He reached the doorway where Nebula had last seen Davrios, stopping at the edge of the opening, peering cautiously inside. The big room was lit by one lampstand, the light barely flickering above the lip of the alabaster bowl. It cast oddly large leaping shadows on the colorful wall paintings, and Iolaus could see a man's form slumped near a circle of symbols hastily scratched onto the floor. Just as Kheper had been. Iolaus slipped inside, telling Autolycus softly, "Watch the door."

The King of Thieves nodded, taking up a position just inside the doorway.

Iolaus stepped toward Davrios, eyeing him cautiously. The sorcerer didn't appear to be breathing. He circled around him and halted abruptly. Lifting his brows, he said, "I don't think Davrios is coming back."

"What?" Nebula leaned around him to look. Davrios' blue tunic had been pulled open and there was a dagger thrust to its gold hilt in his chest. "Huh." She nudged the inert form with her foot, eyeing it with detached interest. "I guess Chephren was done with him."

"And he's done with you too, so don't get caught while I'm gone," Iolaus told her. He sat on his heels, reaching for Davrios' hands. The sorcerer's fists were clenched in a death grip and he had to pry open first the right, then the left to find the crystal stones. He just hoped Amun's terse instructions for opening the portal were correct. "You and Auto get out of here, get back to the boat."

"Thanks for the advice." Nebula's voice was dry. She watched him for a moment, her face impossible to read. "Iolaus-- I know nothing I can say--" She swore and ran a hand through her disordered hair.

Iolaus stood, weighing the stones in his hand. The only weapons he had were his belt knifes. His sword still lay on the floor of the sanctuary, and Nebula and Auto would need the bow and whatever else Auto had stashed up his sleeves to keep the apes at bay while they escaped. Iolaus shook his head. There was no help for it. Wanting to reassure her before he left, he said, "Nebula, there's nothing between us. I understand that. If we get through this alive I won't try to--"

She grabbed him by the back of the neck and crushed her mouth against his, and because she had caught him with his mouth open, it turned into a real kiss before he knew it. He stared at her as she pulled back, tasting blood from a split lip. Meeting his eyes deliberately, she said, "Don't worry about it. Just kick that thing's ass."

She stepped back. Iolaus took a deep breath. He didn't know if she was just saying it because he was probably about to die, but it was good to have that weight lifted. He gave her a nod and tossed the crystals into the circle.

They struck the stone floor and Iolaus had an instant to wonder what he would do if Amun had been wrong, if the spell wouldn't work for him. Then blue light sprang to life, spiraling up out of the circle and swirling in to form the doorway.

Wind from some other world flowed out of it, smelling of heat and desert sand. Iolaus wasn't sure how long it would stay open and had no time for doubt; he leapt into the portal.

***

"What--?" Hercules spun around, staring wildly. He had been in the temple's sanctuary, facing a dead -- an undead -- something.

Now he was outside under a harsh bright sun, cloudless blue sky overhead that still seemed dull and hazy, surrounded by a rocky desert bordered by low hills crowned with dead grass and brush. "No, no, no. I don't have time for this, whatever this is," he said aloud, pivoting to scan the area. There was no sign of life.

That thing sent me off somewhere. He hadn't thought that was possible. Only gods could travel in that fashion and they couldn't transport mortals the way they could transport themselves. Even though he was only half-mortal a god shouldn't have been able to send him anywhere. If that wasn't the case he would have spent most his life walking back from Hellespont. But whatever the creature had done to him, Iolaus, Nebula and Autolycus were still back there with the damn thing.

And it had sent him somewhere out of Egypt, so far away that the sun was unaffected. But.... "This is familiar," he muttered.

He turned around again, studying the mountains in the distance. The shape of the peaks was teasingly familiar, and not in a good way. He started up the slope of the nearest hill, hoping the view from there would be more enlightening. He reached the top and stopped, staring.

On the plain below lay the outskirts of a small city. It looked familiar as well, but it wasn't Egyptian or Greek; the buildings were made of stone but they were low, without elaborate pediments, and only traces of paint marked where decorations had been worn away by wind and dust. An aqueduct stretched across the plain toward it, but one of the columns supporting the stone trough had fallen, and it was evident no water travelled through the channel. Two statues flanking what seemed to be the main road into the city had been knocked down and lay broken on the dirt. He saw no movement but the wind blowing dust through the barren streets, no people, no.... Sumeria. This was Sumeria.

"Oh, no." Horrified, Hercules looked around again, studying the distant city, the ground, the desert, the aqueduct. "I'm in Sumeria. That's...not good." Frustrated, he kicked at a rock and stared aghast as his boot passed right through it. He tried again, and again. He looked down at himself, turning his hands over, and realized his body was faintly translucent, that under the bright noonday sun he had no shadow. He dropped his head back, swearing in disgust, and clapped a hand over his eyes. "I'm in Sumeria and I'm dead."

***

Iolaus landed on hard gravelly ground and rolled to his feet. Looking warily around, he saw he was in the market plaza of some deserted city. Empty square doorways in low stone buildings faced the plaza, one with a half-collapsed wooden trellis built to shade the walkway, another with shreds of bright fabric still attached to its porch. He could tell the abandonment was recent, and the warm wind carried the smell of rotting food. Smashed pottery and baskets lay in heaps near buildings that had been shops or taverns. More ominously, broken spears and a few battered swords littered the pavement, signs of a battle that had gone the wrong way for someone. A large square fountain under the trellis dripped precious water onto the pavement, its rim shattered. There was something weirdly familiar about it all, but he couldn't place it.

In the center of the plaza, not far from where he had landed, was the base of a statue. The sandalled feet were all that remained of the god or king or hero it had been meant to honor; the rest lay in chunks scattered around the base. It was an uncomfortable reminder of what had happened to Amun-Re and started this disaster.

Iolaus looked around, baffled. I thought Davrios would be here, guarding the thing, whatever it is. The best case scenario was that Iolaus would find Kheper here searching for it, but he knew with his luck that would be unlikely. Since Kheper had left his body in his house he would be incorporeal here, like Davrios, so Iolaus might not even be able to see either of them.

Right, so where would this artifact be? Everything in the plaza that looked significant was already broken. It could be easy for once, he thought, grimacing.

The feeling of familiarity was more pronounced the longer he stood here. It was as if he had seen this city in another time or place, looking different, filled with people, not abandoned....

He heard a boot scrape on gravelly sand and spun around, one hand going to the knife at the back of his belt. What he saw made his jaw drop. "Hercules?"

The demigod had stepped out from a narrow street between two buildings across the plaza. He was staring at Iolaus, and he was holding a drawn sword.

The sudden thought that it was Chephren, that the dead Pharaoh had followed him here, made Iolaus fall back a step. But in the next heartbeat he realized it wasn't Chephren. The way the man was standing, the look in his eyes, the expression on his face. "Hercules?" he said again, hope making his chest hurt. But this man's clothes were different, his vest torn and blood stained, his skin and hair covered in dust and sweat-matted, as if he had been out here for days. And he was wearing something on a thong around his neck....

That's my amulet, Iolaus realized, incredulous, as the apparition started toward him. He looked down at his own chest but it was still there, right where it should be. That's...not the right Hercules. Amun hadn't said this world was a duplicate of theirs, like the Sovereign's world, but evidently it was. Iolaus blinked, staring again at the man. Like I needed this to get more complicated, he thought, sickened. As if confronting Chephren in Hercules' body wasn't enough, now he had to look at this version from another reality.... The man was still striding toward him. Holding the sword. Looking really angry.... "Wait, wait, what-- Who--" Iolaus backed away rapidly, the movement turning into a full-out dodge and roll as Hercules swung the blade at him.

"Hey!" Iolaus came back to his feet, ducking around the statue. The demigod switched direction, coming at him again. "Hey, wait, let me--" Iolaus darted away, his boots slipping on the gravel, narrowly avoiding a sheared-off arm. Even the Sovereign had said something before the hitting started. "No, hey, stop it!" He ducked around the statue again, shouting angrily, "What in Tartarus are you doing? Are you crazy?"

The man charged at him again and Iolaus back-pedaled and ducked to snatch up one of the fallen swords. The weapon was badly balanced and the blade dented and still streaked with dried blood, but it was better than his knife. It made the demigod stop at least, breathing hard and watching him with pure hate. His voice a rusty if familiar growl, he said, "I know you're not Iolaus. Stop trying to make a fool out of me."

"What? I am Iolaus, but I'm from another-- Wait!" Iolaus blocked a blow and spun out of reach. "Why are you trying to kill me, why do you think I'm not--" Still mentally stuck on "this man is crazy like the Sovereign" it had taken Iolaus a moment to catch on. The realization hit like a blow to the face. Oh no. The weird sense of familiarity, a version of Hercules wearing his amulet. Iolaus backed away, sick and incredulous, looking around the ruined plaza again. I have seen this city before. "This is Sumeria." Sumeria in some other world, but still Sumeria. And I bet I'm--

"I know what you are," Hercules' voice grated. "You're Dahak."

"No! It's not..." Iolaus made himself take a breath. It's not you. He's not talking about you. "I told you, I'm from another world. I was sent here--"

"Sent by who?"

"Amun, the god. From Egypt. Not your Egypt, another Egypt. In another world." He swore at the disgusted look on Hercules' face. Of course the man didn't believe him. "It's complicated. But I'm not Dahak and your Iolaus isn't either! It lies, it's trying to make you think he betrayed you--"

Hercules came at him too fast and too close, and Iolaus dropped to a crouch as Hercules' sword whipped over his head. Iolaus rolled away from a kick, came back to his feet to block two swordthrusts, and dodged back before he had time to yell, "Hey!"

"I'm not falling for this!" Hercules shouted.

"Will you just listen to me?" Iolaus demanded furiously. "A sorcerer from my world came here to keep a portal open that will destroy this world and mine. So Amun sent me here to stop him."

Hercules shook his head, stubborn as a bull. "Why send you? If you're from a different world, why didn't it send me--Hercules? Or both of you?"

"Because he's dead!" Iolaus heard the raw anguish in his voice as if it belonged to someone else, as if it wasn't him at all. Hercules hesitated and Iolaus realized the demigod was really looking at him for the first time. "Come on, would Dahak make this up? A story this complicated? It can't even keep its cover story straight. And how many gods or demons in the history of the universe have accidentally killed themselves? It's just not smart enough to pull this off!"

Hercules watched him for a long moment, his face unreadable. "If you're telling the truth, drop your sword."

It was Iolaus' turn to hesitate. He didn't want to die here in this world where Dahak was free to wreak havoc. And if he died that meant all chance of his Hercules coming back was gone.

Iolaus felt the air change behind him and ducked hastily sideways. A blue blaze of light appeared just a few feet off the dusty paving, swirling into motion. Oh no, now what?

"I knew you were lying," Hercules said, grimly satisfied.

Distracted, Iolaus glanced angrily at him. "Lying? I told you there was a portal!" If Chephren comes through-- They were both dead.

But something green burst out of the swirl of light, landing on its feet with a yelp. Iolaus stared, incredulous, as Autolycus straightened up from a crouch and briskly brushed off his shirtsleeves and tunic. Iolaus demanded, "What are you doing? Are you crazy? Oh, forget I asked!"

Autolycus made a disparaging gesture. "Hey, keep your pants on, Sidekick, the Dame told me to come!"

Iolaus clapped a hand to his forehead, swearing. "The Da-- Nebula told you to come and so you did?"

"Yeah. She's a forceful woman and she's armed. You gave her that damn bow-- Yikes!" Autolycus saw Hercules and flinched in alarm. "He's here! Or not-- Wait, which one is that?"

"Calm down, it's not Chephren," Iolaus told him tiredly. I can tell, because Chephren's more reasonable. "He's the Hercules from this world."

"What is this?" Hercules said through gritted teeth.

Autolycus answered before Iolaus could. "What does it look like? The King of Thieves came to help Blondie here save the world." He eyed Hercules suspiciously, shifting over to stand at Iolaus' side as if finally noticing the undercurrent of tension. Lowering his voice, he jerked his head toward the demigod and asked Iolaus, "What's up with the Big Guy Number Two? He's looking a little nuts."

"No kidding. He's trying to kill me because he thinks I'm Dahak." Realizing that needed a bit more explanation, Iolaus added, "We're in this world's version of Sumeria and Dahak's here."

Autolycus grimaced. "Oh good, 'cause I missed it when it came to town and all the survivors said how much fun-- Duck!"

Iolaus whipped around, flinging up his sword, but the blow slid off it, the flat of Hercules' blade slamming into his temple. Iolaus felt his knees give and strike the dusty pavement, the stone gritty under his hands and inexplicably sprayed with fresh blood, then the world went black.

***

Iolaus was dragged reluctantly back to consciousness by a pounding in his skull that seemed to make his whole body vibrate. He lifted a hand to his head, convinced that someone was actually hitting him. Finally he grudgingly admitted that the throbbing came from inside.

He got his eyes open, desperate to distract himself from the pain, and frowned. The sky overhead was a dingy blue, striped with worn wooden slats, framing Autolycus' head, which was looking down at him worriedly. "Come on, Iolaus, come out of it, speak to me," it said.

"Huh?" Iolaus responded vaguely. Nebula, Egypt, he remembered. Then Hercules is gone, and this Hercules thinks I'm Dahak and wants to kill me. Oh, brother.

Iolaus waved Autolycus aside and pushed himself up, feeling his bones creak, squinting to see. They were under the shade of the broken trellis, at the side of the plaza, Iolaus sprawled on the dusty stone and Autolycus crouched warily next to him.

Hercules -- not his Hercules but the other guy, the crazy one -- was sitting across the shaded area. He was sharpening his sword. His eyes flicked up to regard Iolaus without emotion. "How do you feel?"

"How do I look?" Iolaus countered grimly. Smacking him in the head with the flat of a sword and seeing if it knocked him unconscious was one way to tell if he was Dahak, he supposed. Of course, just listening to what he was saying would have been another option. He touched his nose gingerly and spat out some blood, telling himself it was ridiculous to feel betrayed. This man wasn't the Hercules he knew anymore than he was the Iolaus of this world. But just hearing that accusation in Hercules' voice was hard, nearly as hard as seeing Chephren staring out of Hercules' eyes.

"I had to make sure."

The defensiveness might have been Iolaus' imagination, it was hard to tell. "Whatever. Are you sure now?"

Hercules didn't answer. Autolycus caught Iolaus' gaze and rolled his eyes, muttering, "Glad to have you back, Curly, the conversation's been a little...sparse."

"I bet," Iolaus muttered. He was suddenly very glad Autolycus was here. All this struck too close to the bone, like something out of one of his nightmares. Like something Dahak had told him would come to pass. But at no point in those nightmares had the King of Thieves been present to provide ironic commentary, and that helped Iolaus keep a firm hold on reality.

Hercules cut across his thoughts, saying, "You said it isn't him. If that's true, then where is he?"

Iolaus decided to ignore the "if that's true," though it made him grit his teeth. "I guess he's trapped inside Dahak, like I was."

Hercules lifted his brows skeptically. "You guess."

Iolaus looked away, out at the deserted plaza. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, wincing as his fingers encountered a painful knot. I'm not going to defend myself, or him. We don't need defending. "How did he die?"

Autolycus threw a look at him, frowning. "You sure you want to know that?"

Iolaus kept his eyes on Hercules. "Yeah, I do."

Hercules ran the whetstone along the blade, once, twice more. He said, "I was working on another part of the aqueduct from Iolaus and Nebula. They said...It appeared as a man, a warrior, and attacked them. It stabbed him in the...in the heart. Since then it's been attacking at random."

"In his form?"

Hercules slammed a hand on the pavement, suddenly enough to make Autolycus twitch. He growled, "Yes."

Iolaus looked out at the deserted plaza, his brows drawing together. "That's different, that's not how it happened in our world."

Silence, except for the wind moving through dry grasses and the drip of the fountain. Iolaus wrinkled his nose unconsciously. The air smelled of drought, of bones and death. Egypt was surrounded by barren desert too, but the Nile poured life into it. Even in darkness, Egypt hadn't felt dead. We still have a chance, he thought, feeling it in his gut for the first time.

Iolaus looked at Hercules again, and said thickly, "I know you have your own problems, but frankly, I don't have a lot of time. If you want to help us, then help. If not, leave us alone."

Hercules laughed, a harsh bitter sound. "I don't have any reason to trust you."

Except that you do have a reason. If you believe I am who I say I am, you have every reason to trust me. Unless.... Iolaus demanded, "Why do you think Iolaus betrayed you?"

Hercules froze for an instant. "I don't."

"You're acting like it."

"How am I supposed to be acting? You know, I'm sorry I don't measure up to your high standard--"

"I'm sorry too," Iolaus snapped, then wished he had kept his mouth shut. You sound as bitter and hopeless as he is, he admitted to himself. Just because you are, doesn't mean there's any reason to sound like it.

Hercules shook his head, gesturing angrily. "I don't know why I'm talking about this with you--"

"If he's anything like I am, then he loves you past all reason."

"He's dead!" Hercules pushed to his feet abruptly, his sword clanging against the stone pavement. Autolycus flinched, spasmodically reaching for his grappling hook, but Iolaus didn't move, watching Hercules deliberately.

The demigod snarled and strode away across the plaza, vanishing between the buildings.

Iolaus let his breath out. He put a hand on Autolycus' shoulder, using the King of Thieves to help him push to his feet. "We've got to follow him." He lurched to the fountain, catching himself on the rim and taking a handful of the tepid water to splash his face.

Autolycus stood, catching Iolaus' vest to steady him as he overbalanced and almost went headfirst into the trough. "Yeah, because he didn't quite take your head off and he missed his shot at me completely."

Iolaus managed to straighten up, though his head and his back protested. "We don't have a choice. Davrios didn't pick this place by accident, and he's got to keep the artifact that's holding the portal open from Kheper. He could be using Dahak to guard it."

Autolycus sighed. "I get that, Curly, but the bitter parts go down easier if you keep up a consistent level of ironic commentary. It lets the Fates know you're wise to 'em and they're not putting one over on you."

Iolaus watched him a moment, taking a deep breath. "Thanks for coming."

Autolycus snorted. "Hey, blame the Dame. I told you not to get mushy on me."

***

Desperate to find something, anything, that made sense of his current situation, Hercules had started toward the city. He made his way along a path winding down the hillside, pausing wherever he could get a view across the plain. As the path wound back to the south, he caught sight of a small square temple near the foot of the slope and stopped, eyes narrowed against the bright sunlight. Something moved down there. Grimly, he started down again, leaving the path to take a more direct route down the rough hillside. It might be just a refugee from the ruined city, but it might be a chance to get some answers.

Hercules reached the bottom of the slope, his boots slipping on the gravelly sand, cursing the uncertain footing. I'm a shade, I should just be able to...waft down. He seemed to have all the disadvantages of being alive combined with all the disadvantages of being dead.

The temple stood on a sandy flat, surrounded by the broken remnants of a wall. This close, he could see that time and wind had scoured the paint from carved figures just under the square roof, but the damage to the wall looked relatively new. Approaching it from the side, Hercules slowed his steps. Something...someone was standing on the pavement in front of the dark square entrance. It was a short round figure, dressed in tattered black, leaning on a staff--

It swung abruptly to face him and Hercules swore in relief. "Kheper!" He started forward, then hesitated warily. "Wait, that is you, isn't it?"

"Who does it look like?" the sorcerer snapped. He peered at Hercules with his one good eye. "What in the name of the Guardian of the Horizon are you doing here?"

"That's you all right," Hercules said under his breath, but he felt nearly weak with pure relief. He stepped up onto the pavement in front of the temple entrance, seeing that the sorcerer stood in front of the remains of a carved stone stele. The short pillar looked as if it had been shattered by a lightning bolt. Hercules had enough experience of Kheper to know that it would be next to impossible to get any answers of his own until he answered the sorcerer's question. "A Theran sorcerer named Davrios kidnapped a friend and we followed him to Thebes, to the temple of Amun-Re. You know what's happened there?"

Kheper leaned on his staff, looking weary and annoyed. "In painfully exact detail. Continue."

"In the temple sanctuary there was this thing -- person -- creature. Wearing a uraeas crown. It touched me and the next thing I knew I was here. Where's here? Is this Sumeria? And how dead are we?"

Kheper tapped his metal-clawed fingers on his staff, frowning in thought. "I suspect I am less dead than you. Oh, this explains much I didn't understand."

Hercules mentally took a careful grip on his remaining patience. "Explain it to me, please."

"This creature you found is Chephren, an apostate Pharaoh. He was a sorcerer, and not being content with the power of a living god, he created a spell to draw strength from a portal to another world. This would soon cause the other world to wither and die. Of course, Amun-Re discovered this, was displeased, and slew him instantly." Kheper frowned thoughtfully out over the plain. "I would have preferred a more lengthy method. Obviously a quick death did not discourage him from trying again."

"A portal-- This is that other world?"

Kheper's gesture was deprecating. He obviously didn't think much of the place.

"But what does this have to do with me?" Hercules waited, tension making his jaw hurt. Kheper was avoiding his questions, never a good sign. In fact, it was always a terrible sign. The only worse sign was when he got sympathetic. "It lured us -- me - there deliberately."

Kheper let out a gusty breath. "You saw its body. It needed a new one, obviously. One more resistent to being instantly rendered lifeless by the well-justified wrath of severely provoked gods." His one good eye regarded Hercules sympathetically.

"Dammit, I knew it was something like that!" Hercules swung around, flung his arms in the air, kicked a rock which did nothing to relieve his feelings as his foot passed directly through it. He planted his hands on his hips, shaking his head, swearing bitterly. "Iolaus is there." He swore again. Iolaus is there, and this thing is wearing my body. "Autolycus, Nebula...." He pressed his hands against his eyes, striving for calm.

He looked back at Kheper, breathing hard. "What are you doing here? We thought you were dead."

"I left my body and came here to try to close the portal, to cut off Chephren's supply of ill-gotten power. Last time he used a stele marked with ritual symbols to keep it open." Kheper nodded to the shattered marker. "I found it and destroyed it. But...."

Hercules eyed the shattered stele. "But nothing happened."

"Right." Kheper's claws tapped on the staff again. "It's not going well," he admitted.

"Great." Hercules looked around helplessly. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long. Time flows differently here than it does in our world." Kheper blew out a gusty breath, using his staff to push himself into motion. He started down the path toward the city, his rolling gait awkward on the uneven ground. "Come along. Something odd is going on here and I must puzzle it out. Try not to let your sulking distract me."

"I'm not--" Turning to follow him, Hercules flung his arms in the air in resignation. "Why bother."

***

Iolaus had no trouble tracking the other Hercules through the deserted city, following the familiar bootprints through the dusty streets. "So there's no bodies," Autolycus observed, glancing around at the empty doorways suspiciously. "What, does it eat the corpses? Or make something out of 'em? Like, I don't know, a big giant--"

"Not that I recall," Iolaus answered through gritted teeth. He had recovered the dented sword from the plaza, but the weapon wasn't much of a comfort. The idea of facing Dahak, in its full power, and not split into increasingly demented fragments, made cold sweat run down his back. He reminded himself it wasn't this world he was here to save. Destroying the artifact and getting the portal closed should help somewhat; Chephren draining this world's life away couldn't be doing the current situation here any good. But anything else, this Hercules would have to do on his own. "Look, if we can figure out what the artifact is, we let Hercules distract Dahak and then-- Get it."

"Right. That's a plan worthy of the Trojan Horse."

"Fine, Auto, why don't you come up with--" Iolaus halted abruptly. Over the constant wind, he could hear movement, a shout. "Come on," he muttered, and started to run.

He reached the end of the street, darting between the mudbrick buildings to find himself in an open field at the edge of the city. It had been a battlefield at some point, and was littered with broken weapons, the ground deeply rutted from chariots. The Hercules of this world stood in the center, his sword drawn, facing--

Iolaus stared in wary fascination. The figure had his face, but there was no sense of profound recognition, the way there had been when he had faced Amun in disguise. It wore a white robe, the fabric rippling in the wind, and its skin was almost as pale, its eyes red, its hair a dusty gold under the hazy sun.

Iolaus' brows drew together as he tried to make sense of this. I look awful, but.... "Maybe it's because this is another world, but...." Even as he said it, he knew that wasn't the problem. He shook his head, baffled. "That's not me.... And it's not Dahak either."

"Huh?" Autolycus stared at him, horrified. "You mean there's more than one of these things and they get mistaken for each other?"

"Yes...No.... I don't know! But that's not it." Frustrated, Iolaus took Autolycus' arm, hauling him back into the shadow of the building before they were seen. "Something funny's going on." He leaned out to watch the confrontation.

"Oh, you think?" Autolycus demanded.

Iolaus was too occupied with watching the drama unfold to snarl a response. Hercules and the apparition, whatever it was, spoke, but the desert wind tore their words away and he couldn't hear. Hercules shook his head, his angry expression turning baffled, as if what the creature had said made no sense. Iolaus smiled grimly. "Yeah, that's not me." And if it kept talking, hopefully Hercules would realize that too.

But as if it sensed the difficulty and knew not to prolong the conversation, the creature stepped back, its form shifting and blending, growing....

Growing to twice a man's height, with a bullet-shaped troll sized head and four long arms. Iolaus' jaw dropped. This troll had blueish skin, but other than that it was a twin for the one he had killed in the forecourt of Amun-Re's temple. "Son of a Bacchae."

Autolycus agreed, gesturing in disgust. "Looks like our old buddy Davrios is hip-deep in this, whatever this is."

Iolaus shook his head. He almost wanted to laugh, except it wasn't funny, and if he started he didn't think he would be able to stop. "This is just a distraction. This whole thing...." He clapped a hand to his forehead, turning to Autolycus as the realization hit. "When he put that necklace on Nebula he must have asked her about Herc and she told him everything that happened in Sumeria. So when he came through the portal here, he needed to distract this Hercules so he killed me and pretended to be Dahak." He thought that over, pacing back and forth, drawing a hand down his face. "So the good news is the Iolaus here isn't trapped with Dahak because there is no Dahak, he's just dead somewhere. But the bad news is...."

"We don't have a clue in Tartarus where to find our magical doohickey," Autolycus contributed, keeping a wary eye on the troll. It had just thrown Hercules halfway across the field, but the demigod was already on his feet and charging again.

"Right. But why did Davrios have to distract Hercules?"

"Because the Big Guy would be the one most likely to suss out his diabolical plan. Only this Big Guy is several hoplites short of a phalanx so I don't get why he needed to go to all this trouble. Unless...." Autolycus stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "It's you he's trying to distract."

Iolaus stopped pacing, shaking his head. "But I'm dead."

Autolycus gestured in annoyance. "No, no, you you, this you, not that you. Because Amun told you where to look for the doohickey. Only he didn't, so scratch that."

"And Davrios must have been here, starting all this, long before we got here. Amun said Davrios followed Kheper through the portal, but.... That wasn't the first time Davrios was here. He set this up while we were still on the way to the temple." Iolaus ran a hand through his hair, pacing in frustration, but he thought they were on to something. "Say this is aimed at Hercules, at distracting him...." That still didn't feel right. He halted abruptly. If he isn't distracting him, the only other option is - "Or Davrios is using this Hercules to protect the artifact. He had to protect it somehow, he had to protect it from Kheper. Who better to use?"

His eyes narrowed in concentration, Autolycus nodded slowly. "I think you're on to something, Goldie. Davrios gets here, whacks your double, which tips double-Hercules over the edge, not that he was too far from the edge to start with, and--"

"And plants something on my body that Hercules would guard at all costs." Iolaus nodded to himself. "And I think I know what it is."

***

Hercules and Kheper came over the last low hill before the city and halted. Hercules stared for a long moment at the sight of himself, squaring off with Dahak in Iolaus' form, then shook his head. "This is...not happening." It gave him a weird chill, to see a version of himself as he must have looked last year. Ragged, blood-stained and desperate, wearing Iolaus' amulet, except it was whole and unbroken.

"You are right, for all the wrong reasons." Kheper leaned on his staff, his brows lifting. "I think I see now."

"But why is it pretending to be Iolaus when Iolaus is right over there?" Hercules demanded impatiently. He could see Iolaus, or an Iolaus, standing in the shadow of a building at the edge of the field, apparently having an agitated conversation with Autolycus. "It was stupid but it wasn't that stupid."

"It's Davrios." Kheper's grin was feral. "Oh yes, very clever. Clever for an ignorant dog of a barbarian sorcerer."

"Davrios, right," Hercules muttered, still watching Iolaus. Why is Autolycus with him? Both men looked just as he had last seen them in Thebes. And Iolaus was still wearing his amulet. Then he stared, the realization hitting him. "Wait. That's Iolaus, the right Iolaus!" Relieved, he waved vigorously, trying to attract his partner's attention.

Before he could call out, Kheper swatted him with a frown. "Stop embarrassing me in front of the afrits. He can't see us, or hear us, we are in the spirit plane!"

"That's just great." Hercules swore. His other self was now fighting a troll. Yeah, that's Davrios all right. "Isn't there anything you can do?"

"I can blow something to pieces, if you think that will communicate your intent."

"Blow the troll to pieces. Wait, wait, what's Iolaus doing?"

***

Iolaus walked onto the battlefield, just as the troll punched Hercules, sending him rolling across the ground. Iolaus shook his head in disgust. He does think it's Iolaus. Hercules was obviously holding back; the demigod was more than a match for this troll.

Hercules shoved to his feet, spotted Iolaus and did a double take, demanding, "What the--"

Iolaus pointed at the creature with his sword. "That's not Iolaus."

The troll swung at Hercules, who dodged away, shouting, "Look, I don't know that you are, what your place in all this is- "

"That's not Iolaus. Ask it something Iolaus would know. Ask it what Iolaus paid for Ania's marriage necklet. Ask it what the last gift he gave to Ailea was. Ask it what Cheiron used to say about people who make hasty judgements. Ask it what you eat for breakfast. Ask it anything!"

The troll dissolved, becoming the Iolaus-as-Dahak figure again. It glared at Iolaus with blood-red eyes and snarled, "He's lying."

Iolaus snorted. "Oh, that's a great rebuttal. Really, you're doing a fantastic job. My nose doesn't even look like that." He rolled his eyes, gesturing at it in disgust. "It's not a demon-god-whatever called Dahak, it's a sorcerer from another world called Davrios and he killed Iolaus to trick you into helping him." He stalked forward until he was standing toe-to-toe with Hercules, glaring up into the demigod's startled face. "Is my body still where you left it? After this thing appeared, was my body still there?"

"Yes," Hercules whispered.

"In my world, where Davrios got the idea for this charade, Dahak needed a mortal body to appear in, and it used mine." Breathing hard, Iolaus realized how that sounded and added, "This isn't-- I got another body, eventually."

Hercules stared at him, the moment stretching. Iolaus didn't drop his gaze, gritty sweat running down his face. Hercules lifted the sword and though Iolaus' chest tightened he made himself stay still. Then Hercules turned, throwing the blade like a javelin, sending it right into the creature's chest.

The blade passed straight through it. The Dahak imitation laughed.

Relieved in spite of his conviction, Iolaus swallowed in a dry throat. Hercules believed him, that was all that mattered. He said quietly, "Davrios, I know you're here somewhere. You're in for a surprise if you try to go back. Chephren killed you. Drove a dagger right into your heart. But I guess he didn't need you anymore."

There was a moment of hesitation and Iolaus knew the sorcerer, wherever he was hiding, had heard him. The creature vanished and he let his breath out in relief, pushing the sweat matted hair off his forehead. Even though he knew it wasn't really Dahak, it had been damn hard to look at.

Hercules was watching him as if Iolaus was his only lifeline. The demigod shook his head uncertainly and said, "You said I was helping him. How?"

Iolaus took a deep breath and explained, "There's an artifact that keeps the portal open. Davrios' job was to protect it from the powerful Egyptian sorcerer who's trying to destroy it. Auto and I think he's using you to hide the artifact." He jerked his chin toward the amulet on Hercules' chest.

Hercules touched the carved stone, lifting it. It wasn't cracked or broken, but this close Iolaus could see the thong was coated with dried blood. He said carefully, "In my world, Herc did the same thing, wore my amulet. Nebula would have told Davrios that."

***

Beside Hercules, Kheper nodded in satisfaction, leaning on his staff. "Very clever indeed. Yes, if he is a tenth as stubborn as you, I would have had great difficulty getting it away from him."

Hercules grimaced in sympathy, looking away. "So the Iolaus of this world is really dead?"

"Yes. But if he is a tenth as stubborn as you, he will find some way to get him back."

***

Hercules' hand tightened around the amulet. "You said-- I was dead. What are you going to do when you go back?"

"If we're wrong about this--" Iolaus shook his head, looking away. "If we're not.... Amun said he'd take care of Chephren and put Hercules back in his body."

"If he doesn't?"

Iolaus resisted the urge to say "it won't matter" because it sounded like self-pity. He didn't have words to convey the yawning gulf of indifference he felt at what might happen to him if Hercules was truly dead. He made his voice casual. "Go back to Greece. Bail Autolycus out of jail a lot." It was the answer that was expected, that would forestall further questions. He knew what he was most likely to do was what he had done when Ania died; just walk into the desert until he found something that made it all make sense, or he died, whichever came first.

Hercules took a sharp breath. "How.... How did he get you back?"

Iolaus looked up at him. It made his heart ache to see so much pain in the other man's eyes. "Egypt. He went to Egypt and found help there, the sorcerer named Kheper. But if Dahak isn't here, Iolaus isn't trapped, and he won't end up on the Paths of the Dead. He might be in the Sumerian afterlife; Nebula knows how to find the Sumerian God of Death. But don't let her take her crew. You won't need them and some of them will just be killed. And don't kill the Death God if you can help it."

Hercules nodded slowly. With a sharp jerk he broke the thong, and handed the amulet to Iolaus, stepping back.

Iolaus turned it over as Autolycus approached cautiously. The King of Thieves threw a wary look at Hercules, then squinted at the amulet. "Well Curly, you think that's our doohickey?"

"It's heavier than it should be." Iolaus weighed it in his hand, frowning. "And it feels...weird." As if it wasn't just a piece of carved stone, as if it was connected to other things.

He let it fall to the dusty ground, and Autolycus said, "Here, I'll get a rock."

***

"Now that, I can help with," Kheper said with a feral smile. "Prepare yourself. It will be quick."

"What?"

Kheper didn't gesture but the amulet suddenly burst into green fire. And the world went away in a wild swirl of blue light.

***

Part 4: Egypt

"Can we go home now?"
"Why? Aren't you having fun here?"
HtLJ

Nebula didn't want to be caught near the portal. She knew she had to buy as much time as she could and her half-formed lie about Iolaus and Autolycus going off to bring help wouldn't wash if she was found standing guard over the portal. She slipped out the door into the darkness of the cross-corridor, counting the arrows that were left in the quiver and not pleased with the result. If the apes found her again, it wasn't going to be pretty. Hurry, Iolaus, she thought as she moved cautiously back toward the main hall. This was all her fault. She had cursed herself a hundred times for falling under Davrios' power; no matter what she did, everything just seemed to get worse.

"I knew you never expected to fool me. Tell me why you've taken this form." Chephren's voice from the sanctuary. Nebula froze. One of the doors stood open an inch or so, throwing a bar of firelight across her path.

"This is what you want, isn't it?" It was Iolaus' voice, but she could hear Amun in it. There was nothing of Dahak's overt seduction in the way it spoke, but it still gave her a chill down the spine.

"Where are the mortals?" Chephren sounded amused. Nebula's lips twisted in contempt. He was over-confident and that was good. Though he had Amun at a disadvantage it was still a god. A smart, dangerous god not much afraid of its own imminent death.

"Running from your ape-creatures. Did you really expect them to simply sit and wait for death?"

"Of course not. It will be mildly interesting to hunt them down, I suppose."

"Wait." She heard a bootstep on the stone, and knew Amun had blocked Chephren's way to the door. She swallowed, trying to get her heart out of her throat. We need more time. Come on, Amun, keep talking. She could shoot her last arrows into Chephren if he came out that door, but that was Hercules' body, damn it. She had done enough to Iolaus, to both of them; if there was a chance Hercules could somehow be restored and she wrecked it, she couldn't live with herself. Of course, if Chephren was free to wreak havoc, she wouldn't have to live with herself. Nobody would. She shook her head, cursing under her breath, and praying in her heart that she wouldn't have to make that choice.

Amun said, "It's only your stolen power, the life-force you rob through the portal from that other world, that keeps me from summoning Re to my side. Why not kill me?"

"And make the same mistake Set made? There are too many gods who would raise you as Isis raised Osiris and you would return with your power increased a hundredfold. I prefer a living death."

"This is Egypt; nothing ever really dies here."

Chephren laughed. "But in your case, I will make an exception."

Nebula rolled her eyes, thinking, Sarcastic bastard.

The talk went on, the voices rising and falling as they moved around the chamber, and sometimes all she could hear was the growing impatience in Chephren's voice. She wasn't sure how much longer Amun could keep this up.

"What was that?" Chephren said suddenly and Nebula came alert, every nerve quivering.

And Amun-as-Iolaus replied, "That's the portal, you idiot. Did you really think we would let you triumph over us?"

A thundering crash reverberated down the length of peristyle hall and she flinched. Heart pounding, Nebula risked a look around the corner and her jaw dropped.

A cloud of golden light flowed down the hall, lighting up the painted columns, chasing shadows to the very top of the high ceiling. And in the forefront of that cloud was a great golden ship, its sails translucent, its oars propelling it at ramming speed, dipping into invisible waves. She could see figures onboard, some humans in Egyptian armor, some strange animal-headed figures like the ones painted and carved on the temple walls. All were suffused with that gold light, painful to eyes long adjusted to the dark and firelight.

The Boat of Re, the God's Bark, she thought, staring incredulously. It was said to circle the earth every night, the sailors fighting off the monsters that lived on the dark side of the world. I thought that was a metaphor.

She flinched as Amun burst out of the sanctuary, its form as Iolaus falling away to reveal the boy again. He was breathing hard, his eyes wild with hope. He bolted toward the approaching ship. Chephren appeared in the doorway behind him, raw rage twisting Hercules' features into something barely recognizable. He plunged after the boy.

He's not going to make it. There was no way a dead adolescent temple singer could outrun Hercules' body. Nebula threw herself forward, tackling Chephren around the legs.

It was like running into a stone wall and then having it fall on top of you. His weight slammed her to the stone, squeezing the breath out of her lungs. Flattened to the floor, she couldn't move as he rolled off her but she made a wild grab for his ankle. His boot crunched into her rib cage and she gasped, rolling away from the blow.

He ignored her, running after the boy. Gritting her teeth as broken ribs stabbed her, Nebula pushed herself up. She had delayed Chephren just long enough. Only paces away from the boat's prow, the boy slid to a stop and flung his arms wide, the cloud of gold light rolling forward to hide his form.

Iolaus tumbled out of the portal, hitting the floor and rolling to absorb the stunning impact. With a wild yell, Autolycus hit the ground beside him.

Iolaus shoved to his feet, staggering, in time to see the portal go out like a blown candle, the blue light vanishing. He ran into the corridor, halting at the sight of the floating golden galley filling the temple hall. Gaping in shock, he spotted the boy standing in front of the prow, gold light flowing through his tattered robes. Then the boy and the ship vanished.

Iolaus shook his head, dazed, the sudden absence of light making the temple seem pitch black to his dazzled eyes. Autolycus staggered up behind him, demanding, "I think I landed on my head. I thought there was a giant boat in here."

"Yeah." Iolaus looked around and spotted Nebula on the floor near the sanctuary doors, trying to struggle to her feet. He started toward her, just as she looked up and yelled a strangled warning.

He whipped around in time to see Chephren slam Autolycus aside and charge.

Iolaus tried to duck but the punch caught him in the jaw, spinning him around and slamming him into the sanctuary door. He bounced off it and hit the polished marble floor face first, stunned, only pure desperation keeping him conscious enough to try to scramble upright. Hard hands grabbed his vest, hauling him up off the floor. He got a view of Chephren, the face of his stolen body so transformed by rage that Iolaus knew he was seeing the dead Pharaoh's real features. A hand clamped around his throat and Iolaus kicked and clawed at the man's arm, but Chephren hauled him across the room.

Iolaus' back struck the altar and he fought convulsively, prying at the fingers tightening on his throat, slamming a heel into Chephren's rib cage with rapidly failing strength. Chephren must know it was over and just wanted to kill somebody. And desecrate Amun-Re's altar in the process, he thought wildly, his head starting to ache from lack of air. Having foreign Greek blood all over the sanctuary would probably mean closing the temple for a complete reconsecration.

Then past Chephren's shoulder Iolaus saw Hercules, the real Hercules. He forgot to gasp for air, staring, wild hope blossoming even as his last breath failed. Then he realized he could see the arch of the ceiling through the demigod's body.

Through gritted teeth, Hercules said, "Get your hands off him."

"You!" Chephren spun around, loosening his grip just enough for Iolaus to get a breath before darkness closed in on him. Chephren bared his teeth in a feral grin. "Did you like the world I sent your ka to?"

Hercules clenched his fists as Iolaus went limp. He knew shades could affect things in the physical world if they felt strongly enough. He felt strongly that he wanted to rip this parasite in his body to pieces. Instinctively focussing that rage, he reached forward and clamped his hand on the arm Chephren was strangling Iolaus with, just above the gauntlet. His hand still looked translucent, even to him, but he could feel warm flesh and bone and it sent a surge of hope through him. He put everything he had into gripping the Pharaoh's arm, squeezing with all his strength.

Grunting with effort, Chephren tried to shove him away but his solid hand passed straight through Hercules' insubstantial body. With grim triumph, Hercules gripped harder. Wincing, the Pharaoh was forced to release his hold on Iolaus, who with the last vestige of consciousness rolled off the altar and fell on the dais in a limp sprawl.

Chephren seemed to gather himself, face twisted with effort, then with his free hand seized Hercules' throat. And Hercules felt it.

Uh oh, Hercules thought. He knew he didn't need to breathe but the grip hurt. He felt himself weakening and knew the Pharaoh was using his magic to somehow drain away what life was left in his illusory body. But he still kept his hold on him; letting Chephren go would mean the Pharaoh could kill Iolaus.

Then behind Chephren Hercules saw something forming in the air. It seemed to be in furious motion and he couldn't get a clear view of it, only snatches of images, a hunting bird's talon, a feather as blue as the sky, a hawk's beak. But he saw Chephren's face suffuse with fear and rage, and the Pharaoh snarled, "Horus."

Something struck Hercules with the force of a lightning bolt, a body blow that flung him over the altar and into the temple wall.

Hercules slid down the wall, his head reeling, and caught himself before he did a face plant on the floor. With a gasp of relief he realized he could feel the smooth cool marble under his hands, the breath in his lungs, and a numbing pain in his right arm. His skin itched, he could feel sweat stinging into little cuts, and it was wonderful. He was back in his own body. He hurt all over, but he was back in his own body.

He tossed his hair back and started to shove to his feet. Then he froze, staring. The room was full of gold light, flowing over the walls, the floor, the altar. That's not light, he realized, startled, yanking his hands away from the floor. The gold came off his skin in flakes. It was liquid light transforming into gold metal, repairing the damage Chephren had done to the room's carvings, restoring the ankhs and other symbols.

He pushed to his feet, stumbling around the altar. There was no sign of Chephren. Iolaus still lay face down on the steps and Hercules fell to his knees beside him, carefully lifting the limp body up. Iolaus' eyes were closed and he had purple-green bruises and a fresh cut on his temple, drying blood in his hair. The reddened imprint of a hand on his neck looked raw and painful. Seized with sudden terror, Hercules couldn't tell if he was breathing.

Then Iolaus twitched, still unconscious, and clearly said, "Ow."

Hercules let his own breath out, weak with relief, muttering, "Right. Let's get out of here."

***

Someone was carrying him. That's either a very bad thing or a very good thing, Iolaus managed to think, still woozily trying to fight his way back to consciousness. The last moment he could remember clearly, things hadn't exactly been going his way.

He got his eyes open, only to get a confused view of a stone wall and a flash of a colorfully inlaid pillar, all tinted with a haze of gold. He could hear people talking too, a babble of excited voices speaking Egyptian. None of it made any sense, but then his head was hanging back over someone's arm, so everything was upside down which didn't help his comprehension or his urge to throw up.

With an effort, he lifted his head and squinted, getting a blurred view of the person holding him. It was Hercules. Again, either a very bad thing or a very good thing. He didn't seem to be making much progress toward determining which.

Hercules glanced down at Iolaus, saw the suspicious glare, and said, "Don't worry, it's me." After a moment, he amended, "I mean, really me."

Oh, good, Iolaus thought in relief, and let his head fall, sliding back into quiet darkness.

***

It was bright, painfully bright. Iolaus flung an arm over his eyes, groaning. That let him notice he ached in a number of new places and pushed him a little further toward consciousness. We closed the portal, he remembered vaguely. And there was a war galley in the temple. And Hercules-- Abruptly wide awake, he flailed in a nest of linen cushions and sat bolt upright.

It was a big sunny room, the walls of a warm butter-colored stone, painted with elaborate scenes of Egyptian nobles and ladies hunting on the Nile. A wide archway draped with filmy white curtains opened onto a palm tree-lined court, with a large square pool surrounded by flowering bushes. "Hercules?" Iolaus could barely get the word out; his voice was a hoarse bare rasp.

Before he could try again, Hercules strode in through a doorway from another room, saying hurriedly, "Here! Hey, it's all right." He looked normal, unhurt except for an ugly purple bruise above the gauntlet on his right arm. Iolaus tried to speak and it came out as a strangled croak. Wincing in sympathy, Hercules picked up a goblet from a low table near the bed. "Don't try to talk yet. Drink this."

Iolaus took the cup gratefully; trying to speak had made it obvious just how much his throat hurt. Then Hercules added, "Kheper left it for you and said to drink it as soon as you woke up."

Iolaus hesitated, frowning down into the cup. The liquid was dark, almost black against the delicate alabaster cup. He looked up at Hercules with a lifted brow. "There's no beetles in it, that's about all I can say," Hercules admitted.

Iolaus grimaced in anticipation, held his breath, and knocked back the drink. It tasted musty, like wine that had gone bad. He got it all down, and reeled over on the bed, coughing, his ribs aching with every deep breath. But he could already feel the pain in his throat easing.

"Better?" Hercules sat on the edge of the bed, watching him in concern.

Iolaus nodded, pushing himself back up again, trying to make a reassuring gesture. "Yeah, it's...." His voice was recognizable again, though it was still raspy on the edges. "That's better." He rubbed his face and blinked around at the room, the elaborate wall paintings, the gold and fine wood. The sun streamed in from the open court, which wasn't doing his pounding head any good. "Damn, that's bright."

"You could ask it to tone it down a little," Hercules said, smiling faintly. "Apparently it owes you a big favor." He gestured to the room. "Everything's back to normal. The Pharaoh, all the people, everyone's all right."

Iolaus wet his lips, trying to get his brain around that. "I think we're even. What about--"

"They're both fine. Nebula had some broken ribs, she's in a room nearby. She was sitting up and cranky the last time I looked in on her. Auto just got knocked around, he's still sleeping it off."

Iolaus took a deep breath, relieved. He looked searchingly at Hercules. "So you're okay? What happened? Were you in there with him or--"

"Oh no, I was in the other world, the one on the other side of the portal, in Sumeria." Hercules knew he had missed the worst part of what had happened. The most lingering effect he felt was an urgent desire to bathe. And he felt guilty that he had fallen into the trap despite his efforts to avoid it, leaving Iolaus to face everything alone. But he knew how Iolaus would react if he said that. "I was confused -- very confused -- at first, then I ran into Kheper. We saw you, with the other me, and Davrios."

Iolaus snorted, pushing his hair back. "So you were hanging out with Kheper in the other world? I would have worried a lot less if I'd known that." Sobering, he shook his head, then had to look away to get the words out. "I knew what you went through when I was dead, or I thought I did. But I don't think I could have gone for that long, for months, knowing that...."

Hercules nodded slowly. "After it's over, you just want to let go and start the screaming you've been suppressing all that time. But it seems inappropriate."

Iolaus started to laugh, then couldn't stop, even when his throat started to hurt again and the need for air became urgent. Hercules slapped him on the back and he managed to stop, choking and gasping. "Are you okay?" the demigod demanded.

"Yeah." Iolaus pushed himself up, wiping his eyes. He didn't think he had ever actually been hysterical before. Not while he was alive, anyway. "I'm going to stop that now."

"Good." Hercules was still watching him warily.

Iolaus looked around at the room again. There were cedarwood chairs inset with gold, a low ebony table inlaid with ivory disks, a couch with a leopard pelt flung across snowy linen cushions. The low frame of the bed Iolaus was sitting on was apparently made out of gold, the headboard set with carnelian and lapis, the linen cushions fine and soft. It made Kheper's house and Anakit's palace where they had stayed last time look like the low rent district. "Where are we?" he wondered.

"The Pharaoh's palace."

"Huh." Iolaus was impressed. As someone considered a barbarian foreigner, he had never expected to see the inside of the place, much less recover here. So if you help save the King of the Egyptian gods, I guess you get the royal treatment. That reminded him of something else he needed to know. "There was a boy, he was dead, but Amun was sort of...inhabiting him--"

"He's alive," Hercules assured him. "Once the portal closed, Re was able to reach Amun. They healed the boy, and he was able to...host Horus Incarnate." He shook his head, trying to think of a way to describe it. "I saw Horus, then I just popped back into my body. I'm not sure what happened to...." He trailed off, brows knit as he tried to say the name. It was just on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't get it out. "To...."

"To...." Iolaus frowned, rubbing his temple. Maybe he had had his air cut off a little too long, or got hit on the head one too many times. "I can't.... That guy we just fought, who stole your body and tried to--"

Hercules shook his head, baffled. "I remember, but I can't remember his name."

"Oh." Iolaus looked up, comprehension dawning. "He said-- Amun said it would un-do everything he did. That he would die the death and no one would speak his name."

They stared at each other a moment, then Hercules lifted his brows, impressed. "I guess he meant that literally."

***

"You know, the monkey owes me. He bet me your barbarian god would get you killed again within the season," Kheper said, leaning back in an ebony chair and balancing a wine goblet on his ample stomach.

It was night and they were sitting out on the terrace attached to their suite of rooms in the palace. The moon was apparently making up for lost time and shone so brightly that the torches and alabaster oil lamps were barely needed. Insects hummed quietly from the shallow pool with lotus and reeds, and the cool evening breeze moved through broad-leaved palms and the flowers bordering the paving.

Hercules sighed. "Thanks, I appreciate that."

"You should have doubled your bet," Iolaus told the sorcerer, grinning. They were sitting in a comfortable sprawl on a leopard skin-draped couch, Hercules at one end and Iolaus at the other.

"I should have, I should have. I do good work." Kheper's sigh was gusty.

Iolaus and Hercules were both wearing the knee-length linen kilts the Egyptian nobles favored, both having had just enough wine to not mind this drafty tailoring. Nebula wore a noblewoman's dress of a fine linen that was nearly transparent in the firelight, the bandages wrapped around her midsection and the bruises darkening the warm honey of her skin the only reminder of the battle. On the other side of the pool, Autolycus, stretched out on a couch and milking his recovery for all that it was worth, was regaling Dahluka-ta-sherit and Tawaret with his version of events. Nesmut was circling the outskirts of the conversation, eyeing him with wary fascination. Messages had already been sent to Iphicles and to Nebula's court in Sumer, letting them know that all was well, so they had a few days to linger here and recover.

"I wanted to ask about the boy, the temple singer," Nebula said now, leaning forward. "How is he? I know the Pharaoh becomes Horus when he has to, but he prepares all his life for it."

"The boy is well, and remembers nothing of his experience. That we made sure of," Kheper told her. "There are some things the living aren't meant to remember."

Iolaus drained his wine cup, setting it aside on a delicate little inlaid table, thinking, Yeah, tell me about it. He noticed Kheper watching him, as if the sorcerer had read that thought, and lifted his brows challengingly. Failing to rise to the bait, Kheper continued, "Pharaoh wanted to reward him with an elephant." The sorcerer made a deprecating gesture with his cup. "The Pharaoh is a boy, and wants to give everyone an elephant. The Grand Vizier has talked him down to a fine house and land outside the city, and a high position in the temple when the boy is older. Which reminds me--" The sorcerer fixed his one good eye on Iolaus again. "There is someone who wishes to give you a gift."

Iolaus shook his head. "I don't have a barn with room for an elephant."

Hercules lifted a brow, considering. "Though the look on Jason's face...."

"This someone does not give gifts that a boy gives," Kheper corrected, his gaze penetrating.

Iolaus stretched, taking Hercules' wine cup out of the demigod's hand and draining it himself. "If this someone is a god, I don't want a gift, I don't need a gift," he told Kheper firmly. He didn't need any favors from foreign gods, even a foreign god that thought it had invented the concept of justice. "We're even."

Kheper tilted his head. "Nonetheless."

Hercules nudged him, and he and Iolaus exchanged a look. He could tell Hercules wanted him to ask for something, but maybe that was just the wine talking. Though maybe this reward was more for Amun's benefit than his. Iolaus shrugged. "Okay, I want a bow. Not a magic bow, just a good bow, like the one I used to kill the troll." After a moment of thought, he amended, "A really expensive bow."

Kheper smiled, showing pointed teeth. "I will see if that is acceptable."

Later, Nebula got to her feet, carrying her wine cup around the pool, to the parapet that looked down on one of the palace's elaborate gardens. Hercules nudged Iolaus again and made a significant eyeroll. Favoring the demigod with a glare, Iolaus got up to follow her.

They were just out of earshot of the others here, though Iolaus could still hear the murmur of their voices. He leaned on the warm stone a pace or so away from her, the breeze cool on his bare chest, reluctant to say anything. Below, fruit trees shaded walks with figs and pomegranates from Greece and incense trees from Punt forming the centerpieces for masses of lilies, irises, and other flowers he had no names for. Lotus ponds dotted the grounds and a long square reflecting pool lay down the center, a second moon glowing in its depths.

Then Nebula said, "We never had any luck, did we." She shook her head with a wry smile.

"No," Iolaus had to agree. "We sure didn't."

"We could have been good together." She added thoughtfully, "The sex was incredible."

He slanted a look at her. "Really?"

She gave him a mock-repressive look from under lowered brows. "Don't fish for compliments."

He smiled, looking down at the moonlit garden again. After a moment, he shook his head and his expression sobered, and he found the words for what he needed to tell her. "I thought I could stay. I really wanted to. Live with you, help you rebuild Sumeria."

"I know."

Iolaus shrugged helplessly, wishing he could give her more. "But I don't know if it would have worked, if I could have...."

"I knew that too," Nebula agreed quietly. "I figured, one day he'll hear something, or Hercules will send for help, and he'll go. And who knows when he'll come back. But...." She shrugged. "I'm not a child, I can handle it." She laughed ruefully. "I was prepared for anything except what happened. That, I couldn't handle."

Iolaus snorted, shaking his head. "I still can't."

She looked at him, her face serious. "I think you're wrong about that."

They stood there in the quiet for a while, in companionable silence, listening to the rise and fall of the others' voices. Iolaus said finally, "So this is why you were coming to Corinth, to tell me the sex was incredible?"

"Pretty much." She smiled warmly into the night. "I just wanted....a better memory to go home with."

Iolaus nodded slowly. "That sounds like a good idea."

***

Leaning on the rail of a Royal Barge under the bright morning sunlight, Hercules and Iolaus said good-bye to Thebes. It was spread out on the bank in all its noisy glory, stone temples and painted pylons, tall palms, gold-capped obelisks, looming statues, the docks crowded with merchant ships, noble's barges, and fishing boats all jostling for position. And people, talking, laughing, working, arguing.

Autolycus came up behind them, clapping both men on the back. "Well, that worked out for the best, didn't it? See, you should have trusted me."

"What are you--" Hercules began, then shook his head. "No, never mind, I don't care what you're talking about."

"It's always about you, Auto." Iolaus shook his head, but he was smiling. There was a new bow and a quiver of arrows packed with his sword in their cabin. It had arrived the morning after their conversation with Kheper at the palace, brought by the finest maker of weapons in the city. He had no idea how it had been managed, if the god had woken the Pharaoh or its High Priest in the middle of the night and told them to go out and buy a bow, or if it had sent Anubis to bang on the weapon maker's door, but there it was. But the gift he was more pleased with was the gold armband he was holding.

Autolycus noticed it and nudged him familiarly. "You forget to give that back to her?"

"She gave it to me," Iolaus told him.

"What did you give her? Ow!" Outraged, Autolycus grabbed his side where Hercules had just applied an elbow, staggering. "That was not an innuendo, though thanks for confirming everyone's speculations!"

Iolaus sighed, throwing a smile at Hercules. "We could leave him in Alexandria."

Hercules smiled back. "It's a thought."

end

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