Iolaus stopped walking for a moment to look at the sky. Dark, heavy clouds gathered to the north, taking away the last of the watery sunlight. "Herc?"

Hercules paused, too, leaning against a rock. "Hmm?"

Both of them had been up since yesterday morning, hunting down a fright of harpies. Their supplies were running low, and they needed to get out of these barren hills, find shelter somewhere before the storm broke, but Iolaus didn't know of any nearby villages, and Hercules had been monosyllabic for the past hour.

Iolaus hoisted his sack higher on his shoulder. "You think you could persuade Persephone to come up to Olympus a little early this year? Sunshine, spring flowers..."

Hercules snorted. "No, thanks. I'd rather stay on Hades' good side." He gave Iolaus a meaningful look, which Iolaus just as pointedly ignored, and then his gaze shifted. "Hey, is that a fire?"

Iolaus sighted along his arm and saw a dim flicker of light near the top of the next hill. "Huh. Let's go take a look."

"It could be a chimaera trying to lure us up there," Hercules said.

Iolaus yawned. "Fine. I get dibs on the goat part."

They climbed down through a dry creek and up again, until they reached a limestone ridge where shallow steps had been cut into the stone. Iolaus traded a look with Hercules and went up first, slinging his sword onto his back.

He came up on a wide ledge of stone, facing another vertical limestone ridge. In the middle of the ledge stood a granite pillar, supporting a bronze bowl; fire flickered from the bowl, and Iolaus held his hands over it gratefully, inhaling the sweet, aromatic scent.

Hercules came up the steps and looked around, frowning. "Okay, that's not what I was expecting."

"You know, it's sort of worrying when you say that."

Hercules tapped the pillar. "Does this look like part of a shrine to you?"

Iolaus scratched his chin and suppressed another yawn, leaning against the smooth limestone wall. "Yeah. Fire, secret, in the middle of nowhere...Hephaestus?"

Hercules shook his head. "He likes caves and volcanoes. I'm thinking Hestia--"

"Whoa!" With a surprised yell, Iolaus fell right through the wall that had been supporting him. He rolled, coming up and drawing his sword in one movement, but there was nobody to fight; not unless he counted Hercules, who had stepped calmly after him through the wall and was now looking at him with some amusement.

Iolaus sheathed his sword again and looked around. "Hestia, huh? I think she likes us."

They were standing in a cavern carved out of the limestone. A ring of small boulders formed a hearth in the middle of the floor, in which another fire burned brightly, warming the whole space; there was a heap of furs next to the fire, and a shrine had been set up at one end of the cave with a small statue of the goddess, surrounded by offerings - loaves of bread, apples, nuts, a flask of mead.

"We did bring back her sword," Hercules said, and the fire flared up as if in agreement, then settled down again.

Iolaus dropped his sword and sack with a thump and sat down to take off his boots and vest, sighing blissfully as the fire's heat began to penetrate. "Fair warning," he said through a yawn. "If you suggest taking watches, I'm going to shoot you."

"You might want to wait until we get you a new bow," Hercules said, coming up behind him to rub his shoulders.

Iolaus leaned back gratefully. "Good point." In a desperate move, he had broken his bow over the last harpy's head, stunning it just enough to give Hercules a chance to skewer it. If he kept going through bows at this rate, they might have to hit Iphicles up for a loan.

Hercules' powerful hands kneaded his back, rubbing the ache from his muscles; he leaned back further, groaning, and let his eyes drift shut.

At some point he slumped over sideways, and he decided to just stay there, since the floor was furry and soft. Another fur landed on top, and then Hercules lay down behind him, nearly drawing the fur up over Iolaus' head until Iolaus protested with a sleepy grumble.

Iolaus lifted his head with immense effort and tucked Hercules' left arm underneath. Pillowed on warm muscle, surrounded by the familiar scent of leather, fur, and woodsmoke, he drifted into sleep.