PART 6

XXXV. Toad-al Disaster

Of all the things that could happen to me in an Amazon village, I'd have to say, this particular scenario never would have crossed my mind. Beating off bad guys? No problem. Rescuing Gabrielle? No sweat (and definitely not surprising). Dealing with self-absorbed gods? No worries (also, not surprising). Running through the village with a shield over my head to protect me from fat warty toads falling from the sky while trying to avoid slipping on the exploded remains of the ones not lucky enough to live?

No way.

It was enough to make me consider another line of work. Something quiet, peaceful, like blacksmith or gladiatrix.

If it was anyone but Gabrielle… Aw, who was I kidding? It wouldn't matter who it was, but since it was Gabrielle, nothing—not a storm of toads, not even a storm of hydras—would hold me back from rescuing her, wherever she was. I had to hurry.

On top of everything else, there was rain. It fell heavy and hard, quickly making the ground slick and muddy and difficult to negotiate. Of course, the toads loved it. They fell to the ground with a plop or splat and rolled around for a bit before leaping off.

Every once in a while there would be the odd mix of a splat and a clank as a toad would slam into the shield. Sometimes they would hop off a moment later, other times I guess they just stuck to the top in gooey clumps.

The Amazons, smartly, had taken shelter in their huts or pressed tightly against the trunks of the trees to avoid the tempest, their eyes round and their expressions disbelieving and disgusted as I ran by. A few cheered me on as I passed, whether for whatever they guessed my mission might be or just my brazen pizzazz in running through a storm of toads, I couldn't tell.

As I neared the edge of the village, I ducked into a storage shed; a brief respite from the storm and a chance to clean off my shield. I grimaced distastefully at the glob of remains glistening on its surface and I used a handful of hay to wipe the worst of it onto the floor. Outside, the sound of rain and toads was all I could hear; almost as soon as they landed—assuming they lived—the toads began to sing out to each other, so there was this resounding chorus in the background of everything.

To this odd musical accompaniment, I lifted the shield again and ran back into the storm, clearing the edge of the village in moments and entering the forest proper. In the woods the trees provided some shelter from the amphibian downpour, though some would still find their way through to the forest floor, or fell from the trees they had landed in. The rain still found a way to pass through, falling in a soft mist now. With less toads impacting with the earth, the space around me had become oddly quiet. I jogged through, being careful not to miss any possible tracks or clues to Gabrielle's whereabouts.

Soon, I had returned to where Ephiny and I found Gabrielle's staff. I bit my lip as I scanned the signs of struggle, the places where she had fallen or had been dragged. Assessing the area and the quickly disappearing tracks, I followed the trail for a short distance until something made me stop.

The sound of another's breathing tickled my hearing.

My gaze unfocused as I tuned out the rain, the crack-splat of the toads, their croaking song, trying to pinpoint the sound I wanted. My head tilted left, toward a large vein of stone, covered in moss and other small plants, which rose like a shattered bone from the earth. I placed the shield on the ground silently and flipped over the side of the rock, my sword drawn and ready. What I saw was a definite eye-opener.

There, sitting wet and covered in various bits of flora, was Artemis. She bit at a nail, unconcerned with me or my blade, shivering in the rain. I shoved my sword back in its scabbard. “Just what in Tartarus are you doing here?” Artemis continued to work her hangnail. I knelt closer and yelled, “HEY! ”

She glanced over at me. “Oh, Xena, it's you.” She went back to biting. “Of course.”

“You wanna tell me what in Hades is going on?” This was my opening to a “sensitive chat”—probably why I leave them to Gabrielle. Much better for everyone, don't you think? “What are you doing out here?”

The fallen goddess looked up at me, a miserable, resentful expression on her smudged face. “What do you care about my problems?”

“It's raining toads in case you hadn't noticed!” I said, exasperated. “Your problems are everyone's problems now.”

“Go away.”

“Gabrielle's been kidnapped.” Ah. I noted a flicker of response from deep in her eyes before they blinked and veiled themselves again. “Do you care about that?”

“Who I do or do not care for is none of your concern, mortal!”

I blinked at the ferocity of her reply, the way her mouth twisted on that last word. “What kind of goddess are you? Your Amazons just got attacked by a bunch of slavers trying to take the village and you were nowhere in sight. They've worshipped you for generations and this is the return they get?” I made a disgusted noise in the back of my throat. “They don't deserve that from you. What kind of goddess abandons her people?” I shook my head and threw my hands in the air. “Why did I expect anything different? You Olympians are all the same.”

She stared at me, her hatred of me plain. That's okay; I didn't like her either. “I don't have time to waste with you; one of your Amazons has your belt as well as Gabrielle. If I have to choose between saving her life, saving the Amazons or stopping the thief before you lose your powers, you don't have to guess which option's going drop to the bottom of my list,” I said, pointing a finger at her. “So if you're not going to help me, just sit here and stay out of the way. I don't need you making more problems for me right now, not when her life is at stake.” I flexed my fist as I adjusted my bracer and turned to go.

“What makes you worthier?”

I stopped abruptly, my back still to her. The thrum of my temper beat at me in time to my agitated heart. “What?” The question came out cold and flat, colored by my anger, but also my confusion.

“You're a killer. A warlord. How many have you murdered, innocent or otherwise, in your quest for glory and greatness?” She shook her head even as she examined me with her squinty little eyes. “What does she see in you?”

My brow puckered in confusion, trying to ignore the stab at my conscience. “What in Hades are you talking about?”

“She is your most stolid advocate,” the goddess said. “Your strongest defender. Yet, look at you. Look at what you've done. Even when I kissed her, it was still you she yearned for.”

Kissed… You kissed her? Why, you hatchet-faced—

She continued. “I was a goddess. All-powerful. The world and its people are mine. Yet she is… impervious. She still resisted.”

I lunged across the space between us and hauled a startled Artemis to her feet. “What did you do to her?” Emotion flooded my senses; whirling images of Artemis and Gabrielle—together—like so much flotsam through my mind. Artemis, forcing her; controlling her. “If you hurt her…” My hand fit snugly around the slender column of her throat, my fingers wrapping themselves comfortably, easily, just beneath her jaw and feeling a pulse beating beneath the surface. It'd be so easy to—

“Xena!” She struggled and choked, one hand pulling at my wrist and the other rose to fend of my other hand where it twisted in her shirtfront. In the reflection in her graying eyes I could see my wild expression, my bared teeth. How dare she lay a hand on Gabrielle, much more her lips? I didn't even want to think the word. It was almost enough to make me physically sick. How dare she?

The rage, the jealousy gave strength to my grip. “You'll never lay another stinkin' finger on her…” I'd crush her, goddess or not.

“…Xe—Xena…” Artemis sucked in a weak breath. “Swear… Didn't… hurt her… It's… you she…she loves…” Her eyes pleaded with me even as her hands batted feebly at my wrist.

The surprise of it, of hearing it come from someone else, froze me. How could she know that? For certain? Did Gabrielle say so? What had she said?

In the midst of my shock, I was only partially aware of Artemis pulling herself free of my numbed fingers. She fell to her knees and rolled to her back on the ground, rubbing her bruised throat as she gasped for air. I stared at her as if I'd never see her before. “She said that?”

“No.”

The knot in my chest dropped through my stomach, forcing out a breath of unanticipated disappointment. “Then how would you know?”

Slowly, she levered herself back into a sitting position and leaned against the rock. An air of haughtiness re-entered Artemis' face and she raised her chin. “She offered me comfort in my quarters, giving me hope for the return of my belt and… and my powers.” The goddess looked away for a moment, but I almost lost the significance of her comment in my impatience to hear the rest of her story.

“Wait. They're gone?” I squinted at her in suspicion. “Completely?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She shook herself and looked down at her tangled hands. “I was overcome with fear, despair, loss…and gratitude.” Artemis glanced up suddenly and gave me a beseeching look. “As I am, I have no way to repay her. In that moment I offered her what I could and I leaned forward to kiss her…”

It felt as though lightning had just struck my heart. I could barely breathe.

Artemis' eyes stared unseeing at the ground, no doubt remembering the moment. “I… have never kissed a woman so,” she said softly, her voice touched with awe. The hardness in her face softened perceptibly and I found myself hating her even more. “I have never known such passion, such heat…” Her voice trailed away and a small smile turned up the corners of her lips.

My hands clenched into fists. “Get on with it.”

She smirked nastily at me, enjoying my discomfort now that she'd bothered to notice it. “She was a living flame in my arms, burning me with her touch. I would willingly have fed myself to her fire.”

The muscles of my jaw were hurting and I forcibly pried my teeth apart.

Artemis looked at me then, a long and bitter expression in her slate-grey eyes. “I would have taken her for my own, but that she then whispered your name.” She gave a rough, humorless laugh. “And then looked entirely surprised upon seeing me when she opened her eyes again.”

Oh, Gabrielle. I hardly knew what to think.

Her fist tightened on her damp thigh. “I could not bear the hurt, so I left.”

I didn't want to know. I didn't want to hear about it. Part of me was savagely glad Gabrielle had turned her down and, by doing so, justified my faith in her. But it still cut me to hear it. “Why are you telling me this?” Despite the heavy moisture saturating everything, my voice was a gravelly husky sound between us.

“You say she is missing. Was she taken from the village?”

I shook my head. “About an hour's travel into the woods.”

Her expression became thoughtful and then concerned. “She was searching for me, wasn't she?”

My nod was sharp. This was getting us nowhere; the longer I delayed the greater Gabrielle's danger. I still didn't know the identity of the thief and while I might be able to deduce something of the woman's nature, I wasn't as confident as Ephiny that Gabrielle was more valuable as a hostage; for all I knew she might already be…

I stopped and mentally shook myself; I couldn't afford to think like that. “If she thought you were upset or hurting, Gabrielle isn't the sort of person to leave that alone, not when she thinks she can help.” The rain, a light drizzle now, had thoroughly seeped through my clothing, making the leather chafe. “I'm going after her. Stay out of trouble.”

“Wait.”

I paused in mid-turn. “Now what?” I was never going to get out of here.

“I want to help.”

That was the last thing I needed. “You?” I snorted in derision. “You said you'd lost your powers already.” Though I didn't say it, the notion that she was useless to me was still conveyed with obvious clarity because she rose to her feet and moved straight into my space.

“You forget yourself, mortal; there is no better hunter or tracker than me.”

I had forgotten. As much as I wanted to dump her scrawny butt here, I couldn't afford to throw away such a skill. Confident though I am in my own tracking abilities, the ground conditions with all the rain would require someone with that extra bit of something. Still, I didn't have to like it—w hich was good because really, I didn't.

“Fine,” I conceded gracelessly in the face of her triumphant smirk. “But you do as I say, got it?” All that happiness evaporated in an instant and Artemis opened her mouth to argue, but I swiped my hand through the wet air between us. “You listen or you wait here and I'll manage without your help.”

The warrior in her didn't like that. I could see from the shift and flex of muscle beneath her shoulders that she was struggling to swallow her objections. She could see that I knew and even though I knew it wasn't going to help our working relationship, something prompted me to grin at her ever so slightly.

“As you say,” Artemis replied at last. She gave me a brittle smile in return.

I gestured toward the other side of the rock formation. “Let's start over here; we'll comb the ground for traces. At this point I don't hold out much hope for an actual print.”

She nodded and slipped past me, her eyes already ranging back and forth across the damp ground. Her fingers hovered above the grass and weeds, over the muddy terrain. I was impressed with how silently she moved, with how few marks she left in her own passing even as she searched for those of others. “Perhaps,” Artemis began, her voice sounding distracted, “we might consider a truce at this time?” Her eyes flicked over to me before returning to her task. “Harboring this animosity does either of us little good. Let us put it aside.”

I wanted to point out that she had started it, but that didn't seem quite in the spirit of her gesture. I shrugged instead. “It'd make Gabrielle happier.” See? I can do tact.

“True.” Artemis nodded, smiling a little at the mention of her name. “I am aware of how much her happiness means to you.”

I shot her a look, not certain how to take the comment. I grunted a reply and bent to begin my own search of the clearing.

“I also know how much your happiness means to her,” she continued, her body crouched over a sad looking fern as she investigated its fronds. “If I am meant to remain… mortal… I can only hope that I might find such cause to feel that way for someone, and they for me. Someone like Gabrielle, perhaps.”

I rolled my eyes. Gods. And I thought Gabrielle talked a lot. Was she trying to drive me nuts on purpose? “Find anything yet?”

“Uh uh.” She was blessedly quiet for a few minutes more. I thought I might have found something—a depression of sorts—when Artemis started up again. “When you kiss someone does it usually make you feel as though your soul has been caressed by a warm summer breeze?”

I stared at her in disbelief. A thief had her belt, she was powerless, the village had been attacked, Gabrielle was missing and this is what she wanted to yak about? “You're kidding me, right?”

“Not in the least.” She stared back at me, equally bemused. “I've never kissed anyone before. Is my reaction common or is this a singular experience only to be found with her?”

You can't kill her. You can't kill her. You can't kill her… It didn't help. I took a deep breath. Another. Nope. That wasn't helping either. It didn't help that I wasn't entirely sure what the answer was; Dreamscape kisses through a male intermediary didn't make for a wildly breezy experience, regardless of how literally soulful it might have been. Artemis had kissed her. I hadn't. I was getting cranky .

“We have a mission to finish,” I reminded her tersely. She bent to her work again and I followed a few broken stems for a couple of feet and then had to pause to consider the signs again. Focus kicked in and I could feel the intensity of my attention building. There—the hint of a fresh divot. Smiling grimly, I worked my way forward, concentrating deeply…

“Do all kisses taste of apples?”

I closed my eyes and dropped my head into my hands. After spending a few moments praying without luck for a toad to fall from the heavens and smash my brains from my skull—or at the very least deafen me somehow—I gestured to the earth. “Think I found something…”

* * *

XXXVI. Mother Toad Me There Would Be Days Like This…

I threw myself into the small space between the roots and scrunched beneath the heavy overhang of leaves and branches, hoping for some respite from the freakish downpour of rain and toads. The trembling worsened and I tucked my hands under my armpits, seeking some kind of warmth and comfort from the nauseating residue of Dimitra's touch left on me both inside and out. I felt violated. I longed for soaproot and some searing hot water to erase her touch.

Even with her work done, Dimitra had continued to touch my face and stroke my hair, reluctant to let me go. She had stared at me avidly, her expression an unnerving blend of power-soaked triumph and wondrous awe.

At the memory of her kiss, my stomach suddenly rebelled and I turned sharply, heaving its meager contents onto the muddy ground. I coughed and then, weakly, I slumped back against the tree and winced as the bark scraped the scratches Dimitra had given me earlier. I scrubbed my hand across my lips and tilted my head back, catching errant drops of musty tasting rain in my mouth. It helped a little, but it wasn't really enough. Not enough to dispel the raw feeling inside. The sense of feeling drained to exhaustion.

Part of it was relief. I couldn't believe I was sitting here right this second, the scrapes and bruises and aches a stinging yet welcome reminder that I was truly alive. I was too tired to congratulate myself beyond thinking back to Joxer's little run-in with Aphrodite. He'd been so depressed after she had removed her spell and turned him back into—in her words —“the idiot full-time, again.” But Xena, I remember, had disagreed, telling him that Aphrodite hadn't given him anything that wasn't already there. I don't know what had made me think of it with Dimitra. Maybe her efforts to make me love her had brought it to mind, but I'd wondered if the reverse were true as well; she couldn't take from me what wasn't in me to begin with. It'd had been a gamble. “But did it pay off?” I whispered to myself as I looked up through the canopy of leaves and the gradually gentling storm.

I don't think I love her. I don't feel like I do. When she had demanded that I give myself to it, that I surrender myself, I had given myself to the loves I knew, the ones I cherished most; my family, my friends… Xena . Her most of all. Just thinking about her now made me smile, in spite of my cut lip. The memories of her were the ones I had held to the strongest, most especially that moment when she had come back from the other side, when her eyes had opened and she spoke my name. She had come back—for me. I didn't want to do any less than that now for her. I had to get back.

Looking out from my shelter I could see that fewer toads were falling now. The ones that weren't exploding horridly on impact were wigging grotesquely or attempting to hop off to shelter of their own. Seeing Dimitra's influence, feeling it so intimately, I wondered and worried if I really had managed to evade her spell. Was it more insidious than I realized. Would I do her will regardless?

I snorted. “You're still going to do it anyway, stupid.” It was that or she would kill everyone. Not much of a choice either way, but I hoped that I'd be going into it clear-eyed at least. Speaking of eyes… I pressed the palms of my hands against my eyes, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. …so tired… After a moment, I dropped my hands into my lap and stared at them, wondering how hands like these—strong, but small—were going to make this work. I laughed again, this time wryly. What, do you think you're going to beat them into worshipping Dimitra? Get real. I'd have to find another way.

Better get started. Taking a deep breath, I looked around with more concentrated interest. It was hard to get a read on the time of day with the heavy clouds overhead, but I guessed it might be close to mid-afternoon. It didn't help that I was completely turned around. Thinking back to the maps I'd seen of the area, I had to be south of the village in the forested area that sprawled for leagues until it tapered off to foothills and mountains and inevitably the sea. As far as I knew I hadn't crossed the river; there were no signs of centaurs or the other human settlements I knew had sprung up on the edges of Amazon territory. So I'd start by heading north. I eased out of my protective crevasse and looked around. “Now, which way do you suppose is north?”

+=+=+

I'd been so sure that the storm was letting up. Had I known the rain was going to come down so much harder I would have stayed put for a while longer. As it was, I was soaked to the skin and cold, the air—smelling green and lush—hung in thick clouds of mist. The toads started falling again, their terrible funeral song echoing in the air, punctuated by their abrupt and messy deaths as they crashed into the ground.

“Ow!” One smacked into my shoulder and I began running, hoping to find some kind of decent cover. The sky rumbled again and the rain fell harder. Barely able to see, I slipped and slid along; panting as I ran in the direction I thought the village might lie. Sliding down an embankment, I used a branch to swing around a tree trunk and smacked into something that appeared at the last second.

“Oof!”

“Ungh!”

SPLASH!

I fell butt first into a puddle of mud. Whatever I hit didn't fair any better, falling backwards into a bush.

“Begging your pardon!” said a voice, aged and cracking.

I wiped dirty water from my face and pushed my tangled hair away from my eyes. “What?”

A hunched figure levered itself out of the bush, the person covered in a heavy cloak, hooded against the weather. “I'm sorry, young lady. Don't mind me.” My surprise and confusion melted, leaving me staring narrow-eyed at the hunched crone. “I'll just be on my way. It's such a horrible storm…”

I grabbed at the cloak as it tried to scoot by me. “Not so fast—” Uncovered to the elements, I could now see leather pants, a green vest and dark sleeves, topped by a floppy gray bundle of yarn, which didn't quite go with the neatly trimmed beard sported below. “—Autolycus.”

He stood there in a frozen hunch, until one eye rolled back to look at me. “Why, hello Gabrielle. Heh, heh. Fancy meeting you out here.”

For a moment I couldn't even speak, I was so overcome with relief at seeing a safe, familiar face. I took us both off guard when I wrapped my arms around him.

He stiffened in surprise. “Weee-heh-heeell. As much as I can understand your infatuation—and believe me, it's one I encounter quite often—it just won't work out; your goddess wants to use me for a new rug, and me? Call me crazy, but I'm partial to my insides being where they are. You know how it is.” But he gave me a quick hug before firmly setting me away from him.

“What are you doing out here?” Speaking of out here… I grabbed his arm and guided us quickly beneath a tree where the two of us squatted under the knotted branches while the toads continued to fall.

“Looking for you, of course,” he said magnanimously before glancing not-so-casually over his shoulder. “The village really needs you. Slavers, mobs, toads…the party's really taken a turn for the surreal—they can't seem to handle anything without you. If you head in that direction, you should be there in an hour or two.” Autolycus pointed back over his shoulder. “You go on ahead and I'll bring up the rear guard in a bit.”

“And Xena—?”

He waved a hand in dismissal. “Bashing heads left, right and center. Don't worry.” His eyes looked me over. “You, on the other hand, look like something Zeus scraped off the bottom of his sandal.”

“It's been a rough day,” I admitted, my fingers finding the thin cut across my belly.

“You should get back to the village,” he said as he looked over his shoulder again. “Get that looked at.”

“Don't you mean ‘we'? Don't think I haven't noticed that you're out here all by your lonesome.”

Autolycus pressed a hand against his heart, his expression properly mournful. “You wound me. Here I am, braving a fierce, unnatural storm, endangering myself in enemy lands, all to come find you, and this is the thanks I get?”

“Meaning, you let yourself out of jail and decided to get away while you had the chance until you had the bad luck to run me over, huh?” I reinterpreted for myself.

“Exactly.” He threw his arms in the air. “Your crazy Amazons were going to string me up, you know? They were coming for me.”

“What?!”

“The slavers attacked the village saying they wanted their leader released.” He poked himself repeatedly in the chest. “Me. Me . As if I would work with such amateurs.” He made a conciliatory gesture with one hand. “Mind you, their profit goals are in the right place, and—”

“Autolycus.”

“—that Iskra is someone I could definitely see myself working with again; although—”

“Autolycus.”

“—perhaps in a less stressful capacity of course—”

“AUTOLYCUS!” I smacked his arm. “The village, what happened to the village?”

“Anyway, they attacked, Amazons died, and now half the Nation blames me. If Xena hadn't lodged herself in the doorway to hold them off when she did, I'd probably be hanging like a pretty Brauronia piñata right now.”

“If you took off, how do you know this?”

He looked a little embarrassed. “Rooftop.”

“You stuck around?”

“Only until I knew Xena had things well in hand and then I made my break for it.” Autolycus looked defensive as he shrugged. “Hey, she kept them from killing me outright. The least I could do was watch her back for a couple of minutes.”

I could easily forgive him for trying to escape seeing as he had made the effort to look out for Xena first. Not that she would have asked for it, but I approved nonetheless. “I really appreciate that. I'll make sure to clear you of any connection to the slavers when we get back to the village.” I reached out for his sleeve to tug him along with me and was almost hauled off my feet when he didn't come along.

“Wait a second.” He planted himself and raised his hands. “What's this ‘we' stuff?”

“We need to go back.”

“You're the queen; of course you do. Me, I've had quite enough of Amazon hospitability, thank you.”

“Autolycus!” I grabbed him by the arm, preventing him from walking off.

“Look, Gabrielle—”

“The thief is Dimitra and she has the belt. Up until about half a candle-mark ago, she had me too. Why do you think I look like this?”

His expression sobered immediately. “I thought you were clumsy.”

I smacked his shoulder again. Harder this time.

“Ow!”

“You're coming back with me. If she finds you out here, she'll probably kill you.”

He glanced up at the sky. “If the frogs don't kill us first. What are you going to do when we get back?”

I shook my head, frowning. “Found a new religion. C'mon.”

He stared after me, blinked, and then followed reluctantly in my wake. “Okay, but as good-looking as I am, don't even think of using me as a virgin sacrifice; white is not my color…”

* * *

XXXVII. Fatal A-Track-Shun

Even though tracking, like scouting, doesn't rate high on my list of favorite warrior-ing activities, I would never argue that there is an art and science to it. Not just any Telemachus, Daedalus or Herodotus can do it. It takes a keen eye, an appreciation for detail and an understanding of how your surroundings behave. It takes patience. And, if you're lucky enough to find that one pesky little print, that almost invisible clue, it requires speed and awareness to know how to track your quarry, how to blend in even as you pick up the trail. Put simply: an understanding and grasp of the value of personal silence.

So when I turned on Artemis and bellowed, “For the last time, I don't want to talk about how soft her skin is!” you can probably guess how well things had been going.

She chucked a pinecone at me in retaliation, but she clamped her mouth shut and got back to work.

“I hate that belt,” I muttered under my breath. The rain, which had tapered off for a while, was now falling harder than ever, albeit without the toads. It was a minor relief to deal with a regular annoyance for a change instead of a supernatural one. Three times I'd managed to find a hint of a trail and three times I'd eventually lost it again because of the rain. We had stubbornly kept at it for a candle-mark since the trail went cold and Artemis seemed more than prepared to try to out-do me for the Most Skilled Tracker prize. I couldn't care less—even if the score was two-to-one in my favor. I'm bigger than that.

Stumped for the moment I stopped and stood. “This is getting us nowhere.” I wanted to tear my hair out with frustration.

“What?” Artemis sat back on her haunches and gave me a look. “Don't tell me you're giving up already?”

Her mocking smile irritated me. “Of course not.” There was no way I was giving up; I wouldn't give her the satisfaction, not with Gabrielle's life in danger. But with the rain washing away all visible traces, we were losing our last hope of finding her captors' trail. I walked away from the clearing, shaking my dripping hair away from my eyes as I crossed my arms and leaned against a tree the better to work through what we already knew.

One, an Amazon had the belt. Two, that Amazon also had Gabrielle. The threat was dire enough that Gabrielle had killed someone to protect herself, someone else or the village. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, not wanting to imagine how she must be feeling after having done that. I was crushed for her, saddened and guilty for having led her into a life where she had been forced to get blood on her hands in order to stay alive. I could only hope I could help her through it, but the situation only reinforced how nowhere was safe, not really—not the village, not Potaedia, nowhere.

This isn't helping , I reminded myself. I stared off into the dripping foliage as I gathered my thoughts again. Three, the slavers had attacked the village and demanded Autolycus back, claiming him as their leader. I didn't buy that no matter what Ephiny thought, but his disappearing didn't exactly help matters. Having been inside his head, it's hard not to believe that I have a pretty good bead on who the self-proclaimed King of Thieves really is, outward appearances not withstanding.

The slavers and the thief had to be connected. It was the only explanation for the convenient timing of Gabrielle's disappearance and the attack; which could only lead me to believe that the Amazon—whoever she was—had coordinated everything with the slavers. But why work with them? Money was the most obvious reason, but even that didn't quite fit.

“I will not do this all by myself, Xena,” Artemis called from behind me. “I can see that Gabrielle's penchant for cooperation and teamwork is not a skill she learned from you,” she added snidely.

Harpy . I grimaced at the interruption. “The tracks are gone. Give it up; we'll need to find another way.”

She clenched her fists at her sides, staring at me haughtily. “Abandon your search if you choose. I shouldn't be surprised that you would give up when things become difficult.”

I whipped around and glared at her. “Take your passive-aggressive attitude and shove it up your feathered—”

“How dare you?”

“Me?” I hooked a thumb at myself. “Is this your definition of a truce?” Artemis turned away, her back a wall to silently rebuff me. That was fine by me; at least her anger would keep her quiet for a while. Hopefully long enough for me to find a different solution.

Where was I? The money trail. Nah. That just didn't make sense. A wannabe goddess wouldn't have any use for money even if that were the bait used to get the slavers involved. There had to be some other motivation. Tim e to look at it from a different perspective. If I was going to attack the Amazons and it wasn't for money, why would I do it? The timing of the attack was the answer. “A diversion,” I murmured. A diversion for her and—what?—a reward of a few captives for the slave-trade for them? Could be… Amazons were worth a lot on the open block, even more on the black market. Clever, very clever.

It felt right. So what would the next move be? She's got the belt, she's got Gabrielle… “She's feeling ambitious and grumpy.” If I'd made it that far, I might even be feeling a bit cocky. I might want someone to know that. I glanced back over my shoulder to where Artemis was still diligently, if sourly, crawling around in the bushes looking for some soggy clue. If it were me, I might want to take out the competition.

That, too, felt right. “She'll come back here,” I reasoned. To kill Artemis? And would this Amazon keep Gabrielle alive? Would I?

Definitely.

Even if the Amazon didn't bring her back to the village, she'd keep her tied up somewhere safe, which meant that I'd be forced to wait until she made her move. Tied up again, you'd think that girl actually enjoyed it. Hmm …

I scrubbed my hair out of my face while I contemplated possible receptions I could plan for the Amazon's arrival. Gabrielle would be the key…

I was focusing so intensely on the bard that I thought I imagined her walking towards me from out of the sheeting rain, ghostly and solemn. The vision of her, soaked and pale, still made me smile. Softly, but still it was there. Maybe it was the influence of the belt, maybe it was the misery of being stuck with someone as disagreeable as Artemis, but I missed her. Our fight from last night still bothered me; I know I was petty, I know I was unreasonable, but that didn't seem to matter just then. And now… she could be out there, wounded, scared, and perhaps having been forced to sacrifice her blood innocence…

“Xena.”

My awareness snapped into focus. “Gabrielle?”

My vision coughed a laugh and then stopped and covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes staring back at me in wavering tearfulness. Suddenly I could see the cuts and scratches on her, the bruising, the stark paleness that had nothing to do with the weather. This was no vision. “Gabrielle!” I lunged forward and caught her in my arms, feeling her solid and real against me. I felt her trembling like a frightened animal, stiff and unresponsive. Instinctively, I gathered her to me, cupping the back of her head with my hand, sheltering her from the rain.

“Gabrielle…” I rubbed my cheek against her head, trying to offer whatever comfort I could. Little by little she relaxed, settling beneath my touch like a skittish horse, but still she barely touched me. Her reluctance in responding was surprisingly hurtful. Was she injured worse than I could see? Was she still mad at me? “Let me look at you.”

Gabrielle drew back and I was treated to a tired face, one that was bruised and scraped, but whose eyes were bright and lit with some fierce emotion I couldn't interpret. It made me wary. “What happened to you?”

A throat cleared itself and I lifted my head to see a very wet, unhappy Autolycus looking back at me from over Gabrielle's shoulder.

I smiled sardonically. “I had a feeling I'd see you again.”

“Yeah?” He wrung out his shirtfront. “That makes one of us.”

“I know who has the belt,” Gabrielle said quietly, garnering my full attention again. I couldn't help but notice how her hands at her sides were knotted into fists. “I need to talk to you.”

“Gabrielle!”

Damn.

Artemis, her hard face completely transformed by a smile, appeared by my side and reached out to embrace Gabrielle. The muscles in my jaw clenched as she hugged my friend, but I guiltily admit to being glad to see Artemis get the same unresponsive treatment I did; Gabrielle didn't fight the embrace, but she stood limply, merely accepting the contact. Artemis drew back, a flash of confusion and hurt on her face before she composed herself. “It lifts my heart to see you back and safe, Gabrielle.”

“Thank you,” she replied, almost distractedly, I thought, before she looked back towards me. “We need to talk.”

I shrugged. “Go ahea—”

“Alone,” Gabrielle enunciated clearly and firmly.

“Excuse me?” Artemis demanded even as I could feel one of my brows lifting in question. “I protest this exclusion—”

“Please take Autolycus with you to your quarters,” Gabrielle interrupted her. “I want you both to stay in your hut, out of the way until I call for you. If anyone stops you or tries to get at Autolycus, tell them that he'll be facing justice at your hand tomorrow.”

“What?” Autolycus stepped forward and glowered at Gabrielle. “I knew letting you talk me into this was a bad idea!”

Gabrielle put her hand on his arm and I felt another flare of jealous hurt. She'd touch him, but not me? My eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. What had happened out there between them?

“Please.” Her voice was tired, but determined. I could tell he didn't like it any more than Artemis, but he screwed up his face for a long moment and then threw his hands in the air.

“This is insane.” He stalked off towards the village, stopped abruptly and then looked to Artemis. “Coming, your goddess-ness?”

“Watch it, mortal,” she growled. Artemis looked as though she wanted to say something else to Gabrielle, but she apparently thought better of it, choosing instead to glare at me and then follow Autolycus up the path. I waited for the sound of their squabbling to fade away and then reached out, tentatively, and put my hand on Gabrielle's shoulder.

“Now, what is it?”

She shook her head. “Not here.” She glanced over her shoulder and I followed her gaze, but found nothing out of place in the misty spaces between the trees.

“Then where?” Given the oddity of the situation, I was willing to let her call the shots.

“Our hut.”

“Good. We can get you cleaned up while you tell me what's going on.”

She nodded, but with an air of distraction as she looked back one more time.

“Gabrielle.” She looked up at me. Now that I had her attention, I wasn't really sure what I wanted to say—just something that would remove the weight of worry from her face, from the tense lines of her battered body. “It'll be okay.”

Gabrielle crossed her arms, hugging herself in the rain and shook her head slowly, sadly. “No. I don't think so.”

Taken aback by her uncharacteristic pessimism, I could only stand there and stare after her as she walked back towards the village, feeling the chill of fear and worry left she had left behind.

+=+=+

I caught up with her, watching her instead of the path, but she kept her head down, her eyes on the ground.

There were so many things we needed to go over, but even in a crisis, I have my priorities. “You're going to let me get you cleaned up when we get back.”

She nodded, but didn't argue. Nor did she look at me. Her silence, the preoccupied frown on her face, was unsettling. This detachment was so unlike her that I felt almost off balance, ill at ease in her presence. “Gabrielle?”

“Mm?”

“Why did you let her kiss you?” I couldn't believe I'd just asked that. With all the danger around us, everything we'd been through already, this is what I came up with? Mentally wincing, I rolled an eye towards her to see her reaction and I was surprised to see her shoulders slump further. After her reaction last time, I had expected fireworks, a shouted denial, protestations that Artemis had taken advantage. But this… this bunched shoulder, almost ashamed look was making me feel anxious, hurt—betrayed.

I reached out and stopped her. “Why?”

Finally she looked at me. “I don't know.”

I stared at her, watching her look back at me with her sad, tired eyes. That was it? “You don't know ?”

“I—Xena, do we have to talk about this right now?” she pleaded. “We need to get back.”

Grumpily, I let her set the pace again, stewing over her answer.

“You can't tell me anything right now?”

She sighed in exasperation, but didn't answer. I wasn't used to expending this much effort to get Gabrielle—a bard—to talk. Part of me resented her reluctance to share. “She said you thought it was me.” There!

Gabrielle's head whipped around and I could see that the color was high in her skin. Any feeling of triumph I felt in finally getting a reaction was lost when I saw how upset she was, how scared. I felt horrible. Awkwardly, I looked away, to our feet, which had stopped on the path, and finally back to her face. “Gabrielle, I—”

“We need to get back,” she said again. “Xena, please, we'll talk later. But time is running short and we have to go.”

Chastened and self-conscious, I nodded. “You're right.” We walked through the rain and I swallowed hard, realizing that, once again, I'd given in to the belt's influence and over something so stupid and silly and annoying. Who cared if Gabrielle let someone kiss her?

But I couldn't help wanting, still, to know why she had thought it was me.

* * *

XXXVIII. Love and Truth by Halves

Though she warned me just before we came to the village, I was still shocked to see what had happened in my absence; bodies of men and Amazons had been set in two piles and I could easily see the evidence of damage from weapons and fire, and further, the dents and breakage from the falling frogs. Decorations lay scattered and banners and ribbons hung limp and heavy with rain, others were ripped and ground into the mud. I wondered how this would affect this year's Brauronia.

With so much to do to recover from the battle, Ephiny appeared to have everyone mobilized and working that could still do so. Those who didn't have tasks requiring them to be in the rain had disappeared indoors where it was warm and dry. A pall hung over the village and in spite of my own concerns I could still sense the grief and anger that threaded through the community.

Slipping into the quiet stillness of the queen's temporary quarters was a relief; the sensation of constantly having an unseen pair of eyes watching me lessened considerably, but didn't disappear altogether. I couldn't fool myself into thinking I was safe. None of us were; Dimitra's control was growing. This thought followed me across the room like a pack of snarling hounds, nipping at me where I had stopped by the half-open window shutters overlooking the torn up common area. Behind me, I was vaguely aware of the sound of the door closing softly and the faint, waterlogged steps of Xena's boots as she moved about the room.

In moments, I heard the thin, sharp click of stones smacking together and then saw shifting light blossom in the room as Xena started a fire. It didn't matter; I doubted any fire could warm the chill I was harboring inside me. Absently, I rubbed my hands along my arms, hugging myself for warmth and comfort. It was a futile gesture.

I didn't want to break the silence, but I knew I had no choice; between Dimitra's demands and Xena's unvoiced questions, my time had run out.

“Gabrielle.” Xena said my name quietly, perhaps thinking to avoid startling me. She came up behind me and I heard an indrawn breath. My shoulders shifted, wondering if the cuts looked worse than they felt. My body tensed for the onslaught of her questions—Xena's never been known for her patience, but nothing came.

The touch of something against a scrape on my shoulder made me flinch away and I turned around in surprise. “What—?”

Xena held up a clean cloth in one hand and I noticed a small liquid-filled bowl in the other. “Your back looks like you've been dragged through a briar patch. You can tell me what's going on while we get you fixed up.”

Reflexively I put a hand across my midriff, covering the bloody pinpricks left by Dimitra's dagger. “Never mind. I'm fin—”

“Gab-ri-elle.”

It sounded like her day had been at least as bad as mine if her limited patience was gone already. “All right, all right.” I let her lead me to the edge of the bed. Sitting down on something soft was bliss and my sigh of pleasure was drawn out long enough that Xena's lips quirked in reluctant amusement.

After setting the bowl down, she retrieved several packets of herbs from the saddlebags and then knelt beside me. “Tell me,” Xena said simply, her head down as she set her attention to cleaning and binding the worst of the aftermath of my encounter with Dimitra.

Selfishly, I rather wished she could take care of the rest of the situation, but there was no way to sidestep this one. The game of deception and evasion was about to start and I already knew there was little hope of lying to her. I would have to take refuge in slim truths and gamble on Xena's trust. The task was daunting. Make it good, Gabrielle. I took a deep breath. “I went into the woods looking for Artemis after she disappeared this morning. Without her powers, it was pretty clear she'd be vulnerable.” I waited for her nod, but thankfully she didn't have any questions yet.

“I didn't think there was time to go looking for you to tell you what I'd planned and… I know I should have told someone.” Again Xena nodded, but declined to criticize me for what had proven to be seriously poor judgment. “I got jumped.” I could feel myself flushing. After all this time, I really should have known better.

“Happens to the best of us,” Xena murmured and switched position to start cleaning my back.

I snorted softly, knowing for fact that the number of times someone else had gotten the jump on Xena could probably be counted on one hand, but I appreciated the gesture of solidarity anyway. My fingers picked at a loose thread in the blanket. “Dimitra has the belt.”

Xena paused behind me and then sighed, continuing her work. “We were that close.”

“Yeah.” Trying to spot our target in a village teeming with suspects had been hard enough but to actually talk to her and then dismiss her to consider her companion instead… How different things would be now if only… If only…

With Xena unable to see my expression, I bit my lip and braced myself, hoping she couldn't feel my heart pounding where her free hand rested against my shoulder blade. “She and I talked for a while and, Xena, I think we're better off with Dimitra.”

All movement behind me stopped. “What?” She was incredulous. “You've got to be kidding me!”

“Artemis doesn't deserve to be a goddess.”

Xena came off the bed to face me and I could see how I'd taken her by surprise, her eyes glued to mine with an intensity that almost made me blow everything. How could I possibly lie to her ? “Did you get hit on the head by a frog or something?” she demanded and reached out to check.

I held her gaze as I intercepted her hand, gently deflecting it away. I couldn't let her touch me any more than necessary. “Artemis can't be trusted. You were right. She's just like all the other gods; conceited and self-serving.” Xena shook her head and I leaned forward. “Of all people, Xena, you know what they're like. Didn't you tell me that?”

“This is crazy. I'm all for deciding one's own fate, but this? You'd have the Amazons throw aside hundreds of years of history and tradition? Just like that? That's not like you.”

It was an argument I might have made and I decided to sidestep it with one of my own. “She's irresponsible and careless, Xena. She lost her belt, remember? If that's the source of her powers and the crux of our faith, you'd think she'd take better care of it. If she treats something like that so shabbily, what about us?” I was so glad I was still wet from the rain; I could feel myself wanting to sweat beneath her burning scrutiny. “If she can't guard something as important as that, how can we possibly trust her to look after the needs of the Nation? The fate of these women is as much my responsibility as it is their own.”

Xena looked at me for a long moment, silent. I was counting on her dislike of the gods and Artemis in particular to help sway her. My argument held some water, but would it be enough? She rose to her feet and went to tend the fire.

“Dimitra stole the belt,” Xena reminded me as she fed more wood to the flames. “She arranged for an attack on the village as a diversion while she kidnapped you so she could use you as leverage against us.” She turned suddenly and returned to my side, standing over me. “I think she's using you now.”

“You can think that if you want to,” I said evenly, being careful not to agree or disagree and hoping Xena would notice. “But this is my decision to make.”

“Then you need to remake it! In case you missed it, there's a pyre being built out there right now for all the Amazons her slavers killed today!” Xena flung her hand out towards the window and the grim scene beyond. “Is that the kind of goddess you want instead?”

“There's no other choice if I want to see the Nation survive.” Was she getting my message? “Continuing to support Artemis will only get all of us killed in the end. We need a solution, even if it's short-term.”

Xena stood there, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I can't believe I'm hearing this from you.”

“I am capable of common sense, you know!”

She shook her head at me, looking both angry and frustrated. “I never thought you'd betray anyone like this. I'm not going to let you do it, Gabrielle. We'll find another way and that's the end of it. I may have an idea—”

“No!” I pushed myself to my feet, trying not to wince as my stiff muscles protested. “Listen to me; it's for the best this way. Artemis can't help us and Dimitra will be far more powerful, more deadly than Artemis ever was. She'll wipe out anyone who stands in the way of what she wants for the Nation, which is something I don't think Artemis would ever do. We have to think about the future.” C'mon, Xena. I can't blurt it out. “Please. I need you to believe me—this is the right thing to do.”

The muscles in her jaws worked as she considered my words and, more importantly, me. I knew the mind behind those brilliant eyes was working as fast if not faster than my own. “What's going on, Gabrielle? Really?”

“The Nation is at a crossroads,” I told her. “If I want my people to survive and prosper, we have to consider a change, now, at the height of Brauronia. The ceremony will be the Nation's best chance to reclaim the future we want.”

She was silent a long time. “What if you're wrong?” she asked, finally.

I couldn't answer, but from the exasperated sigh she gave, she had read the answer in the expression on my face.

“Throwing one god over for another? That's a huge gamble you're asking the Nation to take.” She had said it the same way I had… did that mean she understood?

I could tell she was wavering, but I still hadn't convinced her. “Xena… I need you to trust me. To trust that my decision is for the greater good.” I put delicate emphasis on those last two words, praying that she'd get the hint. By the way she blinked and tilted her head I held my breath, daring to hope that I may have finally gotten through to her. Xena crossed her arms and walked a couple of paces before looking at the floor and then at me, sidelong.

“The other Amazons are pretty conservative,” Xena said slowly, with great reluctance.

The relief was overwhelming and I sank down on to the edge of the bed, almost lightheaded with it. She didn't understand completely, but she understood me, and that—for the moment—seemed to be enough for her. It took me a moment to get my mind back to the conversation and the veiled warning in her mild comment; it was one that had occurred to me already. “I'm counting on it. Dimitra's values will probably appeal to a number of them.” If our experience with Velasca was anything to judge by, anyway…

Xena nodded and came back to settle on the bed next to me. I could tell by the focused frown on her face that she was thinking things over carefully. “How will you convince the others?”

“I'm their queen. I'll order them.”

She snorted and shook her head. “You know as well as I do how far that'll go. You'll have to do better than that.”

It was truer than I wanted to admit; Amazons tended towards the aggressive, rugged individualist temperament—being told whom to worship probably wouldn't be popular, but I had to use every option or none of us would live to see the end of tomorrow. “I need your help. To establish the new faith,” I added quickly, hoping it still sounded natural to whoever might be listening. Whoever … As if I didn't already know.

“It figures she'd do this right before the party,” Xena drawled, sounding far more natural than I. “Dimitra seems to like being the center of attention just as much as Artemis.”

“Yeah,” I said, drawing out the word, not quite sure where Xena was going with that.

“D'you suppose she's gonna want to dance with you instead?”

I wasn't prepared for the reaction I had. The thought of Dimitra being close to me again, touching me…

“Hey…” Xena's hand touched my forearm and I pulled back, staggering to my feet and away. I had to deny my feelings. I couldn't show anything—to anyone. I came to a stop against the tub and I leaned against its edge, blindly staring at a black feather floating on its dark, still surface while I waited for my heart to stop pounding in my ears. The bedclothes rustled behind me. She's coming over. I closed my eyes; I didn't want her near me. Not now.

“Tell me what's wrong.” The concern in her voice, the tenderness, made me grip the edge of the tub until my knuckles whitened. With effort I forced myself to relax.

“Performance anxiety, I guess,” I chuckled weakly, but I still couldn't bear turning around.

“You're a natural.” The smile was in her voice and, in my mind's eye, I could see it, that gentle turn of her lips revealing the rare beauty that time and healing was slowly coaxing out into the open. I didn't want to see it. I couldn't risk it.

“Gabrielle? Gabrielle, look at me.”

I resisted her, but her will, her strength is not easily denied. She turned me, gently, but firmly, until I faced her. I looked away.

“Gabrielle.” Her voice was a low, soft burr in my ear and I set myself against it. I felt her touch beneath my chin and I pulled away, slowly, but I met Xena's eyes as I did so to watch the flow of emotions across her face. Surprise, confusion… hurt again… Her brows twitched and furrowed and then her entire face darkened, like the shadows thrown by rapidly gathering storm clouds. “It's her, isn't it?!” she spat.

The ferocity took me off guard. “Dimitra?”

“Artemis!”

Was this part of the script? Suddenly I was floundering. “What are you talking about?”

“You wanted her to kiss you, didn't you?” Xena grabbed my shoulders and I gasped, feeling her fingers pressing into my cuts and bruises. “You did, didn't you?”

She flung herself away then, the contrast of firelight and shadow making her expression a twisted caricature of her normally beautiful face. An odd light touched her eyes and the shadows warped her smile. I found myself pressing back against the tub as she stalked back towards me. “I-I don't understand.”

“She was just toying with me, wasn't she?” Xena leaned over me and I felt small and uncertain, afraid to move. “She said you thought it was me. That it's me you love, but she was only saying that, wasn't she? It's her you want,” she accused me in a soft, dangerous whisper.

“Xena, no…”

Her hands clamped down over my arms, pinning me back against the tub until the wood bit into my lower back. “Don't lie to me!”

“I'm not!”

Xena tossed her head at my denial, her teeth bared. “I think you're lying, Gabrielle. I think you love her.”

I struggled, but she only tightened her grip. “Xena…”

“She tried to kiss you! Touch you! You won't even let me do that. You keep pushing me away!”

“Xena, stop!” It was like Dimitra all over again. I couldn't go through that a second time, not with Xena. Not with her. “Let me go!”

“I see how she looks at you…” She lowered her head to rest against mine and I felt the damp strands of her ink-black hair mingling with my own, casting both our faces in shadow, away from the light of the fire. Her hand, fever-hot, cupped my face. “Why don't you love me, Gabrielle?”

“It's the belt.” I could feel myself trembling. Her body was radiating heat, but all I could feel was the chill of my fear and the pebbling of my still wet skin. “Xena, don't let it do this to you…”

It was as if she didn't hear me, as if she didn't hear anything but whatever dark whisper had drowned out all but the rotting words eating away at her reason. “Just say it. Just once! Say that you love me.”

Was it the belt, or only my heart? I struggled not to give in. “Please fight it. Oh Gods, Xena, I need you to fight this… please. ” She had to because I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep silent. For a second I thought I saw a flicker in the depths of her eyes, something there that heard me. Dimitra's threat hung bleakly in my mind; the death of all and I could love only her. I couldn't give Xena what she wanted without destroying us all.

Xena shuddered and then shook me. “Say it! ”

“I can't!” Through tearful burning eyes, I saw her expression break as if I'd delivered a sword blow to her chest. A soft sound of agony slipped past her lips and, as if our souls were yoked by all the weight of our desperate emotions, we crumbled to our knees, still connected, still gripping one another. “…I can't…” I whispered between sobs.

Her whole body trembled and the curtain of her hair hid her pain from my eyes as she bowed her head, but I felt it nonetheless; I felt it in her fingers where they coiled around my arms, in the very air that splintered between us with each hitching breath she took.

“Xena…” How could I have done this to her?

She released me so suddenly that I was forced to catch my balance as she flung herself backward and against the foot of the bed. Her elbows came to rest on her upright knees, her face hidden in her hands. Even from where I sat halfway across the room I could see the silent quaver of her shoulders. I wiped my tears away with my forearm and swallowed. “I'm so sorry...”

She seemed to struggle with herself, lifting her eyes to the ceiling where the darker shades of rose and gold and umber shifted across the smoke-darkened timbers in unpredictable patterns. A calmness had returned, but I couldn't guess what she was thinking. “I know,” Xena answered, so quietly I could barely hear her. “I know.”

“Will—will you still help me?”

Xena gave a soft, bitter laugh and ran a hand through her hair, tumbling it in tangled waves away from her face. In one smooth motion she got to her feet and I blinked at her, a feeling of uncertain fear growing in my chest.

“Xena?”

In silence she went to the door, opened it and paused at the threshold to glance back at me, her blue eyes hollow and sad. One corner of her lips lifted in a self-deprecating smile and then she was gone and the door pulled shut behind her, leaving me alone in the queen's quarters that was a shelter no longer. Leaving me alone with my fate and the fate of the Nation.

* * *

Continued in Part 7