~ The Lesser Evil ~
by P Wilson



The characters in this story are the property of MCA/Universal and Ren Pics. This story is not for profit and is not intended to infringe anyone's copyright. There is very, very light subtext, if this offends you, please do not read. I would like to thank Xena Torres of the PNW Online Xena fan club for her invaluable assisstance, patience and encouragement. Also, regarding the quotes I have include from various songs and poems; I borrowed them because they are outstanding and, I beleive, added something to the telling of the story. They are also not intended to infringe on anyone's copyright.



This is a sequel to A Simple Matter of Trust. You really should read the first story in order to be able to fully understand this one!

Enemies' promises are made to be broken
The Nurse and the Wolf
Aesop's fables


Timeframe: Shortly before Endgame

One way leads to diamonds,
One way leads to gold,
Another leads you only
To everything you're told.
In your heart you wonder
Which of these is true;
The road that leads to nowhere,
The road that leads to you.
Will you find the answer
In all you say and do?
Will you find the answer
There inside of you?

-Enya-



Part 3

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

There's a hero,

If you look inside your heart

You don't have to be afraid

Of what you are...

-mariah carey

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


As Xan helped Gabrielle gather her things, Gabrielle watched her from the corner of her eye. She was unusually quiet, but, then, Xan hated good-byes. Gabrielle was wishing she didn't have to leave so abruptly. Maybe she should-

"Gabrielle! Xan! Are you in there?" Solari's voice startled them both.

"Yes, Solari, come in," Gabrielle answered.

Solari pushed aside the covering over the door and stepped inside. "Soldiers," she said flatly. "Not far off, heading this way."

"Maybe they- " Gabrielle began.

"They killed Sara and Kasan."

Gabrielle was sickened. Sara and Kasan; the two young Amazons posted as forward lookouts. They had been stationed less than a mile from the Amazon campsite, she had known them both.

"Damn them!" Xan said between tightly clenched teeth, hand gripping her sword tightly. "Damn them all to Hell."

"Gabrielle," Solari touched her hand. "Will you lead us?"

Gabrielle felt her stomach take a dive toward her feet. Xan looked at her oddly.

"She is an Amazon Queen," Solari explained, when Xan's puzzled look shifted to her.

Xan was speechless; pretty much a first for her.

"But, your queen-" Gabrielle began.

"This tribe has no queen, she is dead. I have been filling in, but we had planned on joining Ephiny soon."

"How many soldiers?" Gabrielle asked, ignoring Xan's look of open-mouthed astonishment.

"A hundred at least, probably more. They outnumber us greatly. We sent someone to find Ephiny and her group yesterday, but we aren't exactly sure where they are."

"Maybe this is not the time to stand and fight," Gabrielle suggested.

"We are the largest tribe in this area," Solari stated. "We are all that stands between enemy soldiers and the smaller tribes scattered throughout this valley. They have already attacked other tribes, killed two of our own, they have obviously not come in peace. If not us, then who, and when?"

Gabrielle rubbed wearily at her eyes, nodding at the wisdom of Solari's words. Taking a deep breath, she looked deeply into Solari's calm brown eyes and made her decision. "Gather the tribe quickly, we need to discuss strategy. Have someone get the children to safety. There may still be a way to avoid more bloodshed."

Solari agreed with the first, raised a dubious eyebrow at the last, but nodded curtly, bringing a fisted hand to her heart, then turned away to do what Gabrielle had asked.

"Solari," Gabrielle called after her.

"Yes?" Solari turned to face her once more.

"I need someone to go get Xena. We need her."

If Solari was surprised that Xena was not in camp, she gave no sign of it. "Do you know where she is?"

"Yes. But we need to hurry."

"I'll send someone to you, you can tell her where to find Xena." Solari began to turn away, then hesitated, perhaps sensing that which she could not see. "Gabrielle..."

"It's all right. We'll be all right," Gabrielle assured her, determination masking the feeling of cold dread in her heart.

Solari bowed her head slightly and placed her hand on Gabrielle's shoulder before she left them. "We will. With you here, I am sure of it, my Queen."

Solari's unquestioning faith in Gabrielle's ability to lead them brought a shimmer of unshed tears to Gabrielle's eyes; borne of both pride and loathing, they burned like fire in her soul.

"What?" Gabrielle asked a few moments later, turning, sensing Xan's eyes on her.

"Why don't you go?" Xan asked.

Gabrielle looked at her. "Go?" she asked, puzzled.

"After Xena. Why don't you go?"

"I'm needed here."

"I've been in more than a few battles, I could- "

"No, Xan," Her voice was firm, but deep in her heart, she longed to do just that.

Xan sniffed.

"What?" Gabrielle asked.

"You think you can come up with a plan to avoid more bloodshed?"

"Maybe. What would you have us do?"

"I'd have us kick some serious butt, that's what I'd have us do."

"There are times when fighting isn't the only way," Gabrielle insisted.

"And if they don't want to play nice? What then?"

"Then we go to plan B."

"Which is?"

Gabrielle looked around, then rummaged through her belongings and came up with a pair of boots, which she handed to Xan, and a pair of low, soft soled shoes, which she kept.

"What are these?" Xan asked of the boots.

"Serious butt-kicking boots."

Xan laughed. "And those?"

"Running shoes. Mine," Gabrielle informed her, with a tiny grin.

Xan snorted. "Come on, Gabrielle, you never ran from anything in your whole life."

Gabrielle gave Xan an odd look as the grin faded. A whisper from the past and the ghostly touch of one of The Fates lured her away;

...never ran from anything in your whole life...don't you leave me...don't you leave me!

"Hellooo..." Xan waved a hand in front of her eyes.

Gabrielle swatted absently at Xan's hand then, "Actually, I have."

"Have what? And don't do that, it creeps me out."

"I ran from Xena once," Gabrielle stated, either ignoring, or

in ignorance of, Xan's admonishment.

Xan blew a fluttery "ppppth" sound from between closed lips. "Oh, well, who hasn't? When Xena's pissed, all else pales in comparison; even the enemy's leanest and meanest."

Gabrielle smiled a little.

"And besides," Xan added, "you obviously stopped running."

The smile and Gabrielle both went away, once again, for the moment.

Xan inclined her head, narrowed her eyes and changed the subject. "You know," Xan told her, tugging on one of Gabrielle's well-worn coat sleeves. "You don't look like an Amazon Queen."

Gabrielle refocused on Xan and lifted an eyebrow.

"Should I fall down before you on my knees, Queen Gabrielle?" Xan teased, with a mischievous grin.

"Depends."

"On?"

"On what you're going to do, once you get down there."

Xan snorted laughter, Gabrielle blushed to the roots of her hair. Xan always brought out an unabashed lewdness in her, often at the worst possible times. But, for a very brief moment she was able to forget the sick feeling of despair that had settled soul deep within her. And for that she was profoundly grateful, for it would be the last for a long time to come.



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You learn

To build all your roads on today

Because tomorrow's ground

Is too uncertain

And futures have a way

Of falling down in midflight

And you learn and learn

With each goodbye

You learn.

-v a shoftstall

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Xena watched with tired eyes as the sun rose and caught the moon napping in the western sky. The chagrined moon blushed a deep red as the sun disappeared behind a thick line of gray clouds. A hazy gray fog rolled in. Xena frowned, thinking it pretty much matched her mood. It had been one of the shortest long nights she had ever endured; half dozing, half listening, hoping for Gabrielle and troubled by elusive dreams that left only a vague uneasiness in their wake. She saddled Argo, gathered the rest of her things, and doused the fire, swearing soundly when a belligerent spurt of flame singed a dangling edge of new bandage. Smoke drifted lazily from beneath the overhang. It extended curious fingers toward the approaching fog and was soon engulfed by its ghostly embrace. Xena, unable to see much of anything through the thickening mist, closed her eyes and listened. Muted silence. Everything colorless and drab in the oppressive haze surrounding her. Argo nudged her shoulder and Xena turned to rub her nose. "Well, girl, looks like it's just you and me."

Argo snorted derisively at the maudlin cliché.

"Well, thanks a lot."

Argo uttered another opinion.

"I know, I know, but I think it's probably best this way, for a while anyway."

Argo disagreed, but Xena was not listening. She pulled herself into the saddle, grimacing at the cold dampness beneath her, missing Gabrielle's warmth behind her.

"Come on, girl," Xena urged Argo forward.

Argo took a few steps and halted. Pulling hard at the bit, she swung her head around to look behind them. Xena looked, too, but saw nothing except gray fog and leaden shadows. She felt something, though, or thought she did.

"Gabrielle?"

Nothing. She stared a few moments longer, then dismissed her feelings as wishful thinking and urged Argo on. The shadows remained unchanged; silent and unpretentious, and the pale sliver of darkness that lived and breathed among them barely disturbed the fog as it retreated.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

In a dark time, the eye begins to see,
I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;
I hear my echo in the echoing wood--
-Roethke

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Xena halted at the edge of a steep riverbank and climbed down from Argo, leaning heavily against her reassuring presence. She felt dizzy, clammy within her skin, even though the wind was brisk against her face. Fever, she thought to herself, looking down at the grubby bandage on her hand. She flexed her fingers and a sluggish ache crawled up her arm from palm to shoulder. She was thirsty again, but had consumed so much water already today the thought of more made her ill. Turning, she leaned back against the saddle and unwrapped the bandage, scowling at an odor not unlike spoiled meat. The wound was angry and oozing, the jagged tear resembling a bloody mouth drooling pus.

"Damn," Xena whispered. No matter what she did, it seemed, the wound kept getting worse. She had treated it just a short time ago...or at least she thought she had.

Gabrielle would not be pleased. Gabrielle. The thought of her awakened a muted ache in her heart. She may have left the woman behind, but she was still a constant companion. Xena lifted her head. How long had it been since she left to search for...to find...what?

Confused, she looked around her and realized that her wanderings had brought her to the back to the spot where the rampaging river had swept Gabrielle into its surging black maw. Whether from the disorienting effects of fever, or some enigmatic internal compass, she had traveled miles, gone nowhere, and ended up back where she started. How long had she been traveling, wandering like this? The thought that time had passed without her caused a shivering deep in her soul. Closing her eyes for a moment, she drew in a long, deep breath, then set about gathering wood for a small fire. She needed to treat this wound before it got any worse and while she had her wits about her. She just needed to sit down for a moment, just for a moment...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Lots of spirits all over

This year

They whisper



-dana stabenow

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Gabrielle!"


Xena's awakening was abrupt and harshly unpleasant. She sat straight up, the echo of her cry still ringing heavily in the still air. Wiping a hand across her face, her eyes swept dazedly around as her heart thrummed an unsteady beat against her ribcage. She rubbed absently at her hand and slowly became aware that it was wrapped, now, in clean bandage. The pungent odor of salve reached her nose; herbs and something else, familiar, maddeningly illusive... What is that? She must have fallen asleep after seeing to it. She remembered nothing after building the fire, sitting down beside it, and nearly emptying her water bag against her relentless thirst. The blanket around her was soaked with sweat. Fever broke, she thought to herself. There was something odd about the light. Xena looked up to see the sun being swallowed by a churning mass of sickly, greenish-yellow clouds. The fire beside her sputtered then flared brightly, hot and dangerously high in the stiffening breeze. The trees nudged one another, whispering urgently in the murky semi-darkness, as thunder grumbled uneasily in the distance. Argo stood still as a statue, muscles tensed, dark eyes showing an alarming amount of white. Her sensitive ears, lying nearly flat to her head, slowly pivoted forward toward Xena. Xena expelled a breath as a hawk took wing from its perch in the tree above her. Its familiar screeeee raised the small hairs at the back of her neck. Argo jerked her head back nervously.

"It's all right, girl," Xena's voice was soothing.

But, Argo disagreed and uttered a gruff snort, shaking her head for emphasis. Xena stood, knees a little shaky, and moved to her side. "You're right," she told the horse. "Something's wrong. We're going back to the village."

It was getting late, the day had slipped away from her, and that strong sense of wrongness added to her urgency. She arrived at the river crossing to find the bridge gone, carried away by the still raging waters. Crossing here was impossible and Xena swore soundly as she realized she would have to take the mountain trail and cross the river from above. She would lose another day, at least, depending on the weather and the condition of the trail. Frustrated, angry, afraid now for Gabrielle -though why afraid she was not exactly certain- she turned Argo around and set out for the mountain road.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

On a windless day
I saw the life blood drained away
A cold wind blows

On a windless day

-Sarah McLachlan
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Gabrielle opened her eyes and stared at the moon through the hole in the roof. The moon was so bright and the sky so black, it looked like a perfect round hole in the universe; bright, shimmering light and untold wonders awaited her there. She wanted to go there, to look into that hushed radiance beyond. Her eyes began to burn and she was achingly thirsty. She tried to swallow, but could not work up enough saliva to do so. Discomfort brought her unwillingly back to the real world. What had happened? She thought about it, trying to ignore her burning thirst and organize scattered thoughts and images. She was weak and so very, very tired. Her pain seemed to have lessened considerably, but it had been replaced by a cold, unfeeling numbness that bordered on the edge of terrifying. She felt unmoored from life, but not yet gone, and wondered if it had all been a dream, a nightmare, or something worse. A shadow slipped across her vision and her heart stumbled over a beat. She looked up, Rhia was standing beside her, hands wrapped around a cup of water, which she lowered to Gabrielle's lips. Gabrielle drank, choked most of it back up, and drank again. Exhaustion closed her eyes, and she felt herself drifting away.

"Better than sex."

Rhia's words penetrated the fog surrounding her. Gabrielle forced her eyes open again and looked deeply into Rhia's innocent gaze. "What?" she managed to croak.

"Cold water, when you are really thirsty," Rhia explained. "Not that I would know about that, but that's what Xan says."

Gabrielle chuckled a little, felt like laughing hysterically, started to cry instead. Rhia touched her face. "Don't cry," she said gently.

Gabrielle closed her eyes again, she had little control over the tears, or much else at the moment for that matter. She opened her eyes once more. "Who... are you?" she asked the child. "Who are you really?"

"I have to leave you now, but don't be afraid," Rhia replied, ignoring the question and turning away.

"Do you know?" Gabrielle persisted. "Do you know what's coming?"

Gabrielle's voice halted her, she hesitated a moment, then turned back. Gazing into Rhia's eyes, Gabrielle watched in silent awe as the deep blue eyes transformed from child-like innocence to an intelligence that staggered the mind; knowing, sad, compassionate and older than time. As quickly as it came, it was gone, leaving Gabrielle to wonder if she saw it at all.

"You do know, don't you?"

"Sometimes," the child answered. "Sometimes I see things."

"Tell me."

The child shook her head and looked ...afraid. "It's not good to know," she said, finally, looking off into a far place only the gods called home.

Gabrielle's gaze was drawn to the silver Amazon bracelet encircling Rhia's arm. She reached out and touched it, igniting a tiny blue spark, which startled them both.

"What do you see?" Gabrielle insisted.

"I..."

"Please tell me, Rhia, I need to know."

Rhia stubbornly clamped her jaw shut and tried to out-stare Gabrielle. But, Gabrielle was a master at stare-downs, having learned from the best.

"It's cold," Rhia whispered hoarsely, wrapping her arms around herself.

Gabrielle did not move; instinct kept her quiet.

"It's cold and it's a blue morning and it's snowing. Blue morning, dark sun, black day."

Gabrielle felt a chill settle over her.

"She's coming to save you... there's a woman... she won't help. Bad, she's bad."

Rhia began to tremble and Gabrielle, fearful now, of what she had initiated, reached out in an attempt to sway Rhia from her dark visions. Gabrielle grunted in surprise as her hand was swept away. Had Rhia done that? No, she...

Rhia leaned forward and grabbed Gabrielle by the shoulders. "She will save you but the other is evil...so evil. Don't ...Oh!" Rhia released her and brought her hands to her mouth. "No." A single word, filled with such sadness, such despair, it shook Gabrielle to her soul. Rhia looked into her eyes, tears streaming down her face. "Oh she's broken she's falling help her you have to... but you mustn't you can't you can't you can't."

"Rhia..."

Rhia clasped her hands together in front of her and began to rock slightly back and forth. "Hurt hurt hurt no no don't do that please don't do that." Gradually, she stopped rocking, winding down. Tears dried, leaving pale streaks on her face. Gabrielle was mesmerized, frozen in awe and horror. She had unknowingly sat up and now she fell back, hurting and weary to the bone, she closed her eyes. Rhia awoke as from a dream. She looked around her, unclasped her hands and stared at them. Her palms were bleeding. She absently wiped them on her coat as she moved to Gabrielle's side.

Gabrielle's wound was seeping.

Rhia frowned. "Rest now."

Gabrielle felt the touch of Rhia's lips against her brow before the beckoning darkness lured her away.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Deep into that darkness peering,

Long I stood there wondering, fearing."

-Edgar Allen Poe

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>




The child entered silently, disturbing nothing, save the dust on the floor, which stirred momentarily at her passing. She stood beside Gabrielle for a long time, unmoving, barely breathing. Finally, she reached over and touched the dampness on Gabrielle's face; she was crying in her sleep.

"Oh..." Rhia whispered sadly, laying her hand against Gabrielle's face. "Gabrielle."

Gabrielle moved slightly under her touch.

"Gabrielle," The voice grew more urgent.

Gabrielle heard the voice, was drawn to it, but it was not the voice she sought and she began to drift into the darkness once more.

"Gabrielle!"

The voice was subtlety persistent, urging her up, pulling gently, but powerfully at her consciousness. She began a half-hearted struggle from the grip of the blackness surrounding her; it embraced her like a jealous lover, unwilling to lose its hold.

"Gabrielle, wake up."

Feeling somewhere between irritated and panicked, Gabrielle grabbed the voice like a lifeline and hauled herself painfully up.

The child watched her closely. "Come on!" she insisted forcefully.

Gabrielle opened her eyes and winced. Everything tormented; the muted half-light in her eyes, the air she breathed and the wound that felt gnawed by dagger teeth. She moaned, and even that hurt.

"I'm sorry, Gabrielle."

Gabrielle focused on the voice and the face swam into view.

"Rhianna," her voice was harsh, weak from disuse, abraded by pain. It hurt to talk, it hurt to breathe, and it hurt to be alive. She found she didn't much want to be. Gabrielle closed her eyes and Rhia took her hand, it trembled for a moment and then went still, like a dying bird in her palm.

"She's coming," Rhia promised.

The eyes opened, a light flickered across shimmering blue-green; the sun kissing the sea.

"You have to wait. She's coming to you."

Gabrielle swallowed, tried to speak and could not.

"Wait for her," Rhia beseeched her.

"Trying..." Gabrielle managed.

Rhia stared at her for a long moment, chewing on her lower lip, lost in thought. "I can help you," Rhia said, finally, squeezing Gabrielle's hand.

But darkness was not to be so easily thwarted.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Eerie figures caper

To some midnight music

That only they can hear...

And under the winter moon's pale light
Dawn is unable to fade the night.
-Book of counted sorrows

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


Rhia turned as the wind rose and pushed against the hut. It scrabbled and scratched along the walls seeking entry. Rhia moved quickly to the doorway and looked outside. Emptiness. Puffed clouds skittered across a crisp white moon, casting dizzying shadows of alternating light and dark across the landscape. Nothing out there. She looked quickly away from the dark, knowing that what was not there may be looking back. She untied the door covering and let it drop in place. Insulted, the wind muttered and complained and then pushed tentatively at the obstacle.

"Go away," Rhia demanded. "You can't come in here."

The wind grew eerily silent, barely stirring ...breathing... on the other side. Waiting, biding its time. Rhia backed away from the doorway until she bumped up against the bed where Gabrielle lay. She took a deep breath and with a last careful look at the doorway, turned her attention back to Gabrielle. The breaths Gabrielle drew were wet-sounding and labored. Rhia stared at the blanket covering her; there was a spreading red stain on its surface. Pulling the blanket away, she was dismayed to see that the wound was seeping blood, stark and shockingly red against the bandage. How could that happen? Rhia started as the wind chuckled gleefully outside then grew ominously silent once more.

Rhia looked at Gabrielle's face and was surprised to see that she was gazing at her with bright, pain-glazed eyes.

"Gabrielle..."

"Can't..." Gabrielle breathed out, so softly Rhia nearly missed it.

"You must, it's important," Rhia insisted.

"Tired..." Gabrielle replied. "So...tired."

Rhia nodded understandingly, "It's the pain."

Gabrielle shook her head slightly and closed her eyes.

"Not here," Rhia placed a gentle touch against the seeping wound. "Here," she finished, moving her fingertips to Gabrielle's heart. Gabrielle opened her eyes.

"As long as she's there, in your heart, there will be pain. But there will be joy as well. She completes you, as you complete her. What one is lacking, the other fulfills. You depend, but are not dependent, you never have been."

Gabrielle stared at her; these were not the words, nor the eyes, of a child. Midnight blue, as deep as the velvet night, these eyes looked not at you, but through you, into forever. Gabrielle cried out slightly when Rhia placed her hand over the blood soaked bandage. Lost in Rhia's eyes, she had left the pain behind; it reasserted itself with a vengeance.

"Trust me," Rhia urged. "Put your hand here, on top of mine."

Gabrielle tried, but could not seem to get the message from her brain to her hand. Rhia waited patiently. "You have to do it yourself," the child told her. Gabrielle tried again and finally managed to move it, an agonizingly frustrating inch at a time, until it covered Rhia's. At least she thought it did, for Rhia's hand was awash with blood, which was both disturbing and somehow profane.

"I can't heal you, but I can help."

Gabrielle again experienced that strong sense of deja vu. Somehow, somewhere, she knew this child, had lived this moment before. She closed her eyes, trying to remember. Rhia's touch grew warm, then uncomfortably hot, and back again, as if she were not quite in complete control of what she was doing. Gabrielle looked up into her eyes; they were bright, yet full of shadows, distant, yet intimate. Gabrielle gasped; jolted by a searing pain, every muscle, every nerve, every bone sang with it. A biting, icy wind blundered its way through the doorway. Debris scattered on the floor, a spear tumbled from the wall, a chair overturned and clattered across the floor as if it had been angrily kicked aside. Gabrielle's eyes opened wide, but remained fixed on Rhia's, whose own intense gaze never faltered.

"The way you have chosen has consequences, Gabrielle," Rhia spoke calmly, clearly, eerily impervious to the chaos surrounding them. "You will remember this, if you remember nothing else, you will remember this; you will be lead down the same path, time and one more time again, and there will be a reckoning, a price to be paid each time. You must weigh the cost carefully against your conscience and your soul. Remember! In the end, trust in your heart, for therein lies your true path."

The wind pushed at the child and tore at her hair, whipping it around her face like slithering snakes. Rhia held her ground, her breath frosting the frigid air. Gabrielle felt a tremendous energy bearing down on her, smothering and painful, she opened her mouth to scream and it was torn from her lungs, swallowed by the raging wind. An inky darkness was edging past Rhia, reaching for her; Gabrielle pushed back against the bed. Pain was a living entity, racing through her, searing its way determinedly toward its destination; her mind, her heart, her soul. She was on fire, the cool wind caressed and the darkness beckoned, promising reprieve.

"You can go there," Rhia soothed. "But you mustn't stay there, it's dangerous."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

There are days when I swear I could fly like an eagle
And dark, desperate hours that nobody sees
My arms stretched triumph on top of the mountain
My head in my hands, down on my knees

-stevie nicks
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Sensing danger in front of her, Xan hesitated. She squinted into the murky darkness, then started as a branch snapped with a tiny crack behind her. She stood immobile, muscles taut, listening in the dark, hand touching the knife at her belt.

"Don't move, Xan," Xena warned, dropping the small stick she had just broken to alert Xan to her presence.

Xan relaxed a little, recognizing the voice, and stood very still. She felt movement close behind her and tensed as Xena laid a hand on her shoulder.

"You want to step back," Xena suggested, removing her hand from Xan's shoulder.

Xan didn't question; she took two steps back and turned to face her. She was gone, Xan could neither see nor hear her, which gave her the shivers. She heard striking flint off to her left and turned her head in that direction, when she turned it back, Xena was in front of her. She held a flickering torch in a bandaged hand, the flames caught and held in her eyes, setting them ablaze.

"What's back there?" Xan asked, glancing over her shoulder, ignoring Xena's ghostly manifestation as if she had gotten used to them. She hadn't.

"Nothing, just drops off. Long way down. "

Xan nodded, but did not thank her. "I've been looking for you."

"Well, now you've found me."

"Do you want to know why?" Xan asked, feeling an inexorable anger rise within her.

Xena said nothing, waiting patiently for Xan to tell her. Xan studied her for a moment. She stood straight and tall, her face reflecting nothing. Xan felt a stirring within her, a familiar heat and wonder at Xena's incredible beauty and power. She mentally shook herself to break the spell.

"Why did you leave?" Xan demanded, a hint of that anger spilling over into her voice.

Xena narrowed her eyes, trying to discern the reason for Xan's ire. She could read it plainly in the tone of her voice, the clenched fists at her sides, the rising fury in her eyes. She was about to go off and Xena wanted no part of it.

"You know why I left," Xena told her. "Not that it's any of your business," she added, turning to walk away.

Xan tried to hold her temper, but was never very successful at it in the best of times. It erupted. Taking two rapid steps forward, she grabbed Xena's shoulder and swung her around. Xena's glare sent a clear warning, one that has given even the gods pause, but Xan was too far gone to notice, or care.

"What did she have to do, Xena, come begging to you on her knees? Sending you a message wasn't good enough for the mighty Xena?!"
"What are you- "

Xan hit her. Hard. Xena's head snapped sideways, blood spraying, hissing angrily as it touched the torch flame. She turned her head back slowly, eyes burning with that sinuous spark of viciousness that lay so tightly coiled within her soul. A muscle did a mad dance in her jaw as she fought to control it. Xan moved closer, eyes filled with furious tears, and swung at her again. Xena grabbed her wrist just before the blow connected, and at the exact same time, felt the point of Xan's knife against her side.

"Damn you, Xena," Xan hissed. "You left her, you left us, when we needed you most. You are so good at leaving." Xan was crying now, tears reflecting like tiny gems in the torchlight. "I swear to God, if I hadn't promised her I'd bring you back, I'd kill you where you stand! I love you," she whispered fiercely. "And I hate you."

Xena stared into Xan's eyes for a long moment, barely resisting the impulse to break Xan's wrist and toss her into the crevice behind them. Slowly, the gist of Xan's words penetrated her own anger. "I received no message," Xena stated, her tone deceptively quiet.

"What?" Xan stared fixedly at her, voice strained with startled disbelief.

Xena loosed her hold on Xan's wrist.

"We sent Kara, we-"

"I never saw Kara before I left," Xena interrupted.

Xan shook her head a little and Xena felt the knife drop at their feet. Xan's rage and frustration drained away, leaving her weak and shaking in its wake.

"God..." Xan muttered miserably. "Oh, God."

"What's happened?" Xena gripped Xan's shoulder, part of her needing to know, part of her dreading the answer.

Xan raised her eyes again and swallowed, getting control of herself. "Gabrielle's hurt. You have to come back."

There was much left unsaid, yet that said it all, and more. Xena blinked, the stab of pain she felt at Xan's words was no less intense than if she had used the knife at her feet.

"Tell me."

"We need to go. We need to go now," Xan began to move past her, but Xena held fast to her arm.

"I need to know what's happened," Xena insisted, unwilling to rush off heedlessly into the night. "We'll go at first light. The trails down this mountain are treacherous. Having one of the horses break a leg in the darkness is not going to get us there any sooner."

Xan thought about it, ran a hand through her hair and listened, finally, to the voice of reason. She sat down heavily, exhausted, while Xena laid a small fire against the cold darkness, giving Xan time to collect herself.

"Gabrielle was on her way to join you when we got word that soldiers were nearby," Xan began. "Two from the tribe were dead. Solari asked Gabrielle to lead them."

A quiescent sadness stole into Xena's eyes and Xan could only wonder at the cause of such forlorn emptiness.

"I still don't understand why troops are trespassing on Amazon lands," Xan continued. "Unless it is Caesar, still hunting for Rachel and Catherine or..." Xan hesitated and looked over at Xena.

"For me," Xena finished.

Xan nodded, rubbing at her eyes as she continued. "I could tell Gabrielle was reluctant, but, with Ephiny away, she felt it her duty to help them. She led with her head, but not with her heart. She's changed, she's not afraid, but there is a wariness about her, an unwillingness...she hides it well, but..." Xan looked askance at Xena.

Xena said nothing. The reasons for Gabrielle's refusal to meet violence with even more violence were too complicated to even begin to explain. Xan hesitated, took a deep breath and continued. "I give her credit, Gabrielle prepared the tribe well for battle, in case it came to that. She's extremely good at it. It's strange, I felt... I felt such an immense pride in her, and yet..."

Xan met Xena's eyes; an unsettling blend of heat and ice, which perfectly conveyed that which Xan could not put into words. Xan shifted her gaze to the fire. "Gabrielle sent Kara to find you, to tell you what was happening. And, to tell you that she had been on her way to join you when we got word of the attack. She told Kara to stay with you, that she'd be safe with you," Xan looked up at her. "Gabrielle never doubted you, you know? When you didn't show up, it never even occurred to her that you might have simply refused to come. She was afraid something had happened to you. She trusts you, loves you so much."

Xena remained silent, waiting patiently for Xan to continue. Xan closed her eyes and saw it, worse yet, felt it all again, that heart stopping, gut-wrenching fear and confusion in Gabrielle's eyes. And the blood. So much blood. Xan opened her eyes to quell the images and found herself looking into Xena's unwavering gaze.

"I found Kara later," Xan hurried on. "She was among the wounded back at the camp. I asked her if she found you. She was half out of her mind with pain, so young, so scared..."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

As I walk there

Before me a shadow

From another world

Where no other can follow.

Carry me to my own

To where I can cross over...

Close to home - I cannot say.

Close to home - feeling so far away.

-enya

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



"Kara? Kara, can you hear me?"

Kara looked up at Xan with terrified, pain filled eyes.
She looks like a child, Xan thought as she gazed around her. So many wounded, dying, in the bloody aftermath of chaos. God, they were all so young in this tribe.

"Kara, what happened? Did you find Xena?"

"I don't want to die, Xan. She said I'd be all right, she promised. She sent me back, she said we'd be all right..." Kara closed her eyes.

"Kara."

"I'm so very cold, Xan."

"I'll find you another blanket."

"Don't leave me."

"I won't leave you," Xan looked around. "I'm going to get you a blanket, Kara, right over there, see?"

"Yes," Kara answered, but she was past seeing what Xan saw.

"I'll be right back, okay?"

"I'm okay, I see them now," Kara closed her eyes. She reached out then, though her hand never left her side.

Xan returned with a couple of blankets and bent over the young warrior. "Here, Kara, these will keep you warm."

But Kara no longer had need of them. Eternal warmth and comfort awaited her and when the flames devoured her earthly bonds and set her spirit free, she would find them on the other side.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream

-edgar allen poe

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Xan wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve; Xena found an odd sort of comfort in the familiar sight. Xan looked again at Xena.

"I never saw her," Xena said quietly.

"Then who was she talking about?"

"I don't know, but I have an idea."

"I'm sorry, I..."

Xena waved away her apology, seeking only one thing from Xan; "And Gabrielle?"

Xan sat up straighter and continued. "We were badly outnumbered, but you know how Amazons can fight, we were holding our own, but just barely. The weather was both a hindrance and help. The light was wrong, yellow and green, sickly. And foggy, sometimes it felt as though you were the only one out there, but you could hear the sounds of battle all around you; shouts of triumph and pain, the ringing of steel, crying. You'd be totally alone and then a shadow would suddenly emerge from the fog. You had to be careful not to lash out at your own." Xan absently touched the scar on her lip. Xena stared at her, acutely aware that the battle Xan spoke of now and the one that had drawn them together so long ago were eerily similar. Xan had very nearly killed her back then and her slight hesitation in doing so had changed and intertwined their lives, their destinies, forever. Xena also remembered that odd colored light when she woke this morning with the sound of her own voice, calling Gabrielle's name, echoing in her ears.

Xan glanced at her, rubbed at her eyes again. "It was intense, brutal, bloody. I tried to stay near Gabrielle. She was there, but she wouldn't fight. Dammit, I was afraid for her."

Xena nodded, she knew all too well.

"The fighting went on. It got worse, much worse. Both sides were showing signs of weariness, and desperation. It was like we were possessed. Neither side would retreat; we were slaughtering each other like savages. God..." Xan ran a trembling hand through her hair. Xena reached over and laid a hand on her shoulder. Xan started a little, lost in the memory, haunted by its brutality. Taking a shaky breath, Xan looked down at her hands and plunged on.

"I lost track of Gabrielle for a while in the confusion. I felt this awful sense of panic. I looked for her, called for her, but I couldn't find her anywhere. There was fire, but it was cold, sodden and dripping. It didn't crackle, it hissed like a snake.

The weather got worse, foggier, the air was heavy, oppressive. There was no sun, yet there were shadows, twisted and black," Xan looked up at Xena. "It was so strange, Xena, the shadows didn't fall, they...they gathered. It was frightening. It was a nightmare."

Xena shivered, suddenly and violently, overcome by that chilling, out of control sense of the past repeating itself. Images; the impenetrable smoke, the fire, the sounds of death and dying all around her as she ran, stumbled, fought like a soul possessed. Frantically searching, crying out for Gabrielle. The panic, the absolute despair that she felt at the thought of losing her. The sudden elation of finding her, finding that she had survived. Then, the devastating heartache of gazing into the vast, glistening emptiness of Gabrielle's eyes. Twin oceans, where sadness sailed and another piece of her soul lay dying, drowning in the depths of her sorrow and guilt.

"Gabrielle..." A terrible grief escaped with the breath that whispered her name. It lingered for a moment and then withdrew to a dark place where light could not exist. Xan shivered in the cold. They sat in uneasy silence, alone with their thoughts and their demons.



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Knives flash

Blood drips in the dust...

-Schizophrenia

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Xan remembered little toward the end of the madness except the infuriating frustration of trying to get Gabrielle back to the Amazon village. She called for help, but that accomplished nothing more than attracting more of the enemy to them. She fought in a nightmarish, panicked frenzy as Gabrielle lay helpless and bleeding on the ground at her feet. And suddenly, it was over. Xan turned in a slow circle, sword outstretched in front of her, gazing around her in stunned disbelief as the shadowy figures withdrew into the mist and silently disappeared. Falling wearily to her knees beside Gabrielle, Xan pulled off her coat and dressed the wound as best she could with pieces torn from her shirt. She slid her arms gently beneath Gabrielle and lifted her, stumbling slightly as she got shakily to her feet. Gabrielle opened her eyes and mumbled something about ruining yet another of Xan's shirts. Xan snorted out a laugh, which quickly escalated to near hysteria in her mind; she had to bite down hard on her lip to keep it there. Xan ignored the burning pain in her tortured, screaming muscles and concentrated only on putting one foot in front of the other. When she finally reached the village, they had to forcibly remove Gabrielle from her grasp. Ironically, the dark of night brought closure to this particular piece of the nightmare, but it was far from over.

>>>>>>>>



"I found her," Xan said aloud, finally, drawing Xena's attention once more. "Or rather, she found me. I don't know, don't remember much that happened after that. I remember hearing her voice, seeing her, then nothing for a while. Only Gabrielle knows..."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I do not want to be

In this desolate place

For it reeks of evil and destruction

The noble cry out for compassion

And find only indifference

Peace comes only

On the silent wings of death.

-laurie king

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



And for Gabrielle, sleep brought no release. It provided only a darkened stage for the nightmare to repeat itself.

Gabrielle sidestepped a seemingly disembodied hand in a pool of blood and looked around for Xan in the thick, swirling mist. The air and the ground were charged with the electricity of a coming storm. The mist seemed to leach greenness from the earth; it hung heavy and cloying around her, seemingly intent on alienating her from the others. She was so tired, and so very sick. Moments before she had been struggling to avoid a soldier intent on beheading her. He was big and strong, but more determined than skillful, more Joxer than warrior, and he kept swinging wildly at her head with his sword. She kept ducking, sidestepping him as best she could, hoping to elude him in the thickening fog. It was not to be; momentarily distracted by a stinging cut to her shoulder from a clumsy, and therefore unpredictable, thrust of his sword, he finally drove her to the ground with brute strength and a glancing blow to her jaw. She clamped her teeth together as he raised the sword above her, as inept as he was, he would not miss now. A prayer flashed through her mind that he would at least be quick about it, if she was going to die, she didn't want to lie here alone in the cold and bleed to death. The prayer went unanswered.

A look of stunned disbelief twisted his features into a parody of comic indignation as a spurt of blood doused both him and Gabrielle. He fell forward on top of her, nearly smothering her until he was pulled away by a grinning, bloodied, Amazon who held out a hand and pulled her to her feet.

"Damn them all to Tartarus," the Amazon muttered. "Your sword, my Queen." She placed cold steel into Gabrielle's hand before vanishing into the mist. Dazed, Gabrielle never even noticed it was there. A short time later, Gabrielle literally stumbled over her in the fog. Lying grotesquely disemboweled on the cold ground, steam rose from the young Amazon's still warm body, surrounding her like a shroud. Gabrielle backed away, a small sob escaping her before she turned and threw up. Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand left a streak of dark red blood across her jaw. She stared at the sword in her hand, at the darkening blood oozing slowly down the blade, and threw it down in disgust. She didn't know which way to turn, the fog obliterated all but dusky shadows floating eerily in the mist, even the diminishing sounds of battle seemed blunted, wrapped in layers of viscous gauze. Then she heard Xan in the distance, calling out for her. She made her way toward Xan's voice and, miraculously, came across her in the mist.

"Xan!" Gabrielle shouted.

Xan turned to her, a smile, grimace actually, of relief spreading across her blood-spattered face. Gabrielle moved swiftly toward her, casting her eyes down to the slippery, uneven ground beneath her feet. Lifting her eyes to get her bearings, her heart clutched painfully in her chest when she saw Xan fall. A soldier solidified in the grayness where Xan had stood, sword upraised for a final, devastating blow.

"Noooo!" Gabrielle screamed aloud as, not again, please, please not again, echoed in her mind.

The soldier hesitated for a crucial moment before continuing his downward swing; Gabrielle closed the remaining distance between them at a dead run. She barreled into him, making bone and teeth cracking contact with his armor, his jaw and the hilt of his sword. Down he went, helmet flying off, with a startled grunt of pain and surprise, he landed hard on his back at her feet. A galaxy of stars suddenly burst to life before Gabrielle's eyes. The excruciating brightness was accompanied by an exquisite jolt of pain as her brain bounced around like a pea in a pan inside her skull.

"Shit!" bending over, closing her eyes, grabbing her head with both hands, she uttered this Joxerism for the first, and only, time with heartfelt enthusiasm. She sensed, rather than saw, darkness sweep around her like a great dark cloak. Shaking her head a little, wincing at the pain, she jumped, startled, when something bitterly cold and unforgiving gripped her shoulder; a living nightmare had breached that thin line between darkest illusion and reality.



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It is a place of skulls, a deathly place

Where we confront our violence and feel,

Before that broken and self-ravaged face,

The murderers we are...

The built-in destroyer, the savage goddess,

Wakes in the dark and takes away our sleep

She moves through the blood

To poison gentleness

-laurie king

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



Straightening slowly, so as not to completely unhinge her still reeling brain from its moorings, Gabrielle forced open her fiercely watering eyes. For a moment, she stared uncomprehendingly at the impossibly gaunt, bone white hand resting on her shoulder. Her eyes traveled slowly from that aberration to the voluminous sleeve of the black cloak from whence it came. Something cold and heavy was placed into her trembling hand. Then, the apparition dissolved into the eddying mist before her blurred and burning eyes. A scrambling at her feet brought her back. The soldier; breathing heavily, slightly stunned, but on his feet now. He pressed one hand against his aching jaw as the other gripped his bloodied sword with grim determination. His eyes held a look of fierce resolve as he stepped toward her. Gabrielle's eyes were fixed on the blood dripping from his sword -Xandra's blood?- Gabrielle felt the anger surge, powerless to contain it. It rose within her, pushing aside reason, unleashing that furious rage against injustice which still dwelt deep within her warrior's heart. That slumbering warrior erupted now; suddenly, frighteningly vicious, and fighting for control. Instinct, along with a healthy dose of guilt, tightened her grip on the cold steel blade in her hand. The soldier's sword met her own with a sharp retort as she blocked his attack. She pushed hard against his blade and it ran the length of her own, shrieking shrilly into the muffled silence before disengaging. That well-known sound of conflict sang through her, shocking her as vividly as the answering jolt of pain, which raced up her arms and lodged itself in her already throbbing skull. The pain closed her eyes, but she welcomed it; for the absolute, stunning clarity of it somehow pierced the armor of the still enraged warrior within. The clash of the blades echoed eerily for a moment before being swallowed up by the darkness. She felt a presence, but could not feel herself.

The warrior within stepped back into the shadows, but refused to step down. This was a dream; surely, she was lost in a dream. She opened her eyes once again and found herself looking down the silver length of blade in her hand. The soldier lying beneath it was very real and stared up at her with wild eyes...when had he fallen? So, this was not a dream after all, but it most definitely was a nightmare.



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear
I learn by going where I have to go

-Roethke

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



A crimson bubble of blood emerged at the tip of Gabrielle's sword. The tenacious mist swirled around her, with ghostly hands and unsettling, sensual touches it urged her breathlessly on … kill him kill him kill him... it chortled gleefully in her ear. She was lost again, curiously displaced, here, in this moment, yet not present. She watched, fascinated, as blood pooled in the soft whiteness of his throat and poured over the side. She heard it hit the ground drip...drip...drip and she heard someone crying as she looked into his eyes. He was young, so very young. The soldier was no more, the boy had come back to her; another chance at living? Or one last time to die?

"By the gods," she whispered helplessly. "This is not happening, not again, please..."

"I...don't even... know you…" his eyes, blue as a summer sky, slowly overflowed with tears that ran down his face and mixed with the blood at his throat; a river of blood and tears.

The wind rose and swirled around them. The mist gave way at its core, ghost fingers releasing her from their otherworldly grip. The sun knifed through the fog, reflecting blindingly bright on the silver sword. She moved the sword away from his throat and dropped it, forgotten, at her side. He lifted his head. The wind tossed his hair, golden silk in the sunlight, into his eyes. Smiling sadly, he ran a hand through it, leaving a jarring, glistening streak of bright red across his forehead. Gabrielle felt a terrifying
snap in her mind. If he called out for his mother she knew she would be forever lost; eternally wandering that netherworld, that irrevocable madness, that inhabits only the darkest corridors of the mind. She never felt the pain; that would come later. She felt, instead, the cold. Or rather, the abrupt absence of warmth, harbinger of mortality, as the blade slid into her side. She took a remarkably steady step backward, then another, and felt an awful sense of loss, an emptying, as she pulled away from the blade.

"Gabrielle?"

The voice was incorporeal, meant nothing to her, until she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Gabrielle?"

More insistent now, the purity of it, and the spreading warmth from the hand on her shoulder, began to penetrate her bewildered indifference.

"Xan," a spark of light, followed closely by another… "Xena." The names threaded themselves through her consciousness, weaving a luminous lifeline, pulling her dizzily from the abyss of madness. She turned slowly and lifted her eyes to the astonishing silvered beauty of Xan's searching gaze. Looking past Xan then, searching for the crystal blue solace that she
felt strongly, but could not see.

"Gabrielle!" the cry echoed within the screech of a hawk circling high above.

Gabrielle focused once again on Xan. Realization and pain came in degrees. A twinge, a feeling of wrongness. Looking down, she studied her hands, one atop the other against her side. Slowly, she moved them away, they trembled uncontrollably. Warm, wet, uncomfortably viscous and unaccountably crimson; she presented them to Xan, grimacing in wonder and disgust.

"Oh, God, Gabrielle, what...." Xan's voice was hoarse with fear and dread as she took Gabrielle's hands and enfolded them gently within her own.

Gabrielle clenched her teeth tightly against a sudden and terrible thickening that rose at the back of her throat. It lodged there, waiting patiently for release. Xan asked her something she knew she should not answer, but she could not ignore the pleading look in Xan's eyes. "I..." as she unclenched her teeth to answer Xan, a viscous flow inundated her mouth; coppery, hot and vile, it turned her stomach, leaving her violently sick and appallingly hollow within. Xan stepped forward and caught her as an overwhelming fear and a terrifying loss of control crumpled her; a marionette with strings undone.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

We are lost

my soul and I

and oh, my spirit

wanders

and it speaks to me

of spectral things

not yet meant for eyes to see

-pw

>>>>>>>>>>>



Xan had spoken quietly with Solari in the bleak and sun-bruised blue shadows of the hut. Ephiny had sent word that the remaining tribes in this valley were to join her in the north, thereby increasing their number and uniting their strength. The wounded that could not be moved would remain behind with a select few to care for them and, hopefully, escape notice of the tenacious enemy troops. Gabrielle's wound was serious, but, miraculously, not life threatening. The amount of blood she lost, however, was. She could not be moved.

Solari gave Xan a hug that awoke every sore muscle in her body and had them screaming for mercy. Gabrielle opened her eyes as Solari leaned over her.

"Eph...iny..." Gabrielle's eyes held fear and tears and begged for understanding. Solari had seen that look before. It dwelt in the faces of those who had stumbled against Death's door and found Her not yet ready to receive them. And It haunted the eyes of unfortunate souls who had unintentionally crossed paths with Celesta on her troubled journey and, in doing so, caught a fleeting glimpse of not only Death, but Her subsequent destination.

Solari's heart sank like a stone; Gabrielle may not know exactly when, or how, but Solari had no doubt that she knew of at least one who would succumb to Celesta's touch. She took a deep breath and steadied her voice. "I'll find her, Gabrielle, it will be all right."

"Have to...tell..."

Solari laid a soothing hand against Gabrielle's face. "I understand. Don't you worry, I'll warn Ephiny to take care and I'll stay right by her side."

Gabrielle closed her eyes, spilling tears into Solari's palm. Solari stared at her palm for a moment, closed her fingers tightly against it, and then brought the fisted hand to her heart. She placed a gentle kiss against Gabrielle's brow. "Farewell, my Queen, my little friend."

"Goodbye, Solari," Gabrielle whispered.

A cold finger traced an icy path the length of Solari's spine. She turned then and left without looking back, eyes and heart overflowing with tears of her own; she knew they would never meet again in this world.

Xan had watched her go, blissfully unaware of what had passed between them. She rubbed at her eyes, eased herself down into a chair beside Gabrielle and promptly fell asleep. As for Gabrielle, of this she would remember precious little, except for a vague uneasiness in her soul; sometimes, the gods could be merciful.

>>>>>>>>

A soul adrift
Lost between two worlds

Once more content to dream...

>>>>>>>>
"Xena."

The sound of Gabrielle's voice brought Xan instantly awake. "Gabrielle," Xan's voice was soft as she took Gabrielle's hand.

Gabrielle looked up at her, momentarily confused by her surroundings and with one thought, one question on her mind.

"Xan, where..."

"You're safe, Gabrielle. You're going to be fine, but you need to rest. I'll be here with you."

"She..."

"What?"

"Didn't...come," Gabrielle finished.

Xan merely looked at her.

"Xena," Gabrielle tried again.

"I know who you mean," Xan replied gruffly.

Gabrielle sensed Xan's anger and was puzzled by it. Trying to figure it out was too much for her. She pushed the covers back and tried to get up.

"Hey!" Xan yelped. "What in Tartarus...stop that!" Xan put a gentle, but firm hand on her shoulder, then lifted the blanket and checked the dressing. It was red and seeping.

"Dammit, Gabrielle," Xan hissed, angry and frightened at the same time.

"Have to...find..."

"You don't hafta do anything. You're hurt, don't you understand that? Do you want to bleed to death?"

"Xan."

"What?!"

Gabrielle took a deep breath, flinching at the pain, disoriented by the lightheadedness it wrought. "She would have come," Gabrielle managed. "Something...wrong. Need to find her."

Xan stared at her.

"Please, Xan," Gabrielle gripped her hand.

Xan took a deep breath of her own and let it out slowly. "I'll find her. I'll bring her back. I promise."

"Thank you," Gabrielle relaxed, closing her eyes.

"Gabrielle?"

"Mmm..."

"You owe me another new shirt. You'd better be here when I get back."

A tiny smile crossed Gabrielle's lips. Darkness folded around her, she had neither strength, nor desire, to fight it.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


But some mysteries bite and bark

And come to get you in the dark.

- dean koontz

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



Xan looked into Xena's eyes and fought the impulse to look over her shoulder. Xena's hand touched her chakram at the same instant Xan reached for her sword. It was a second too late; darkness fell upon them as the sun began to rise.

Xan was on her feet, sword in hand, when she was hit so brutally hard from behind it felt as though her skull had split in half. Xena winced at the sound of the blow. Leaving the chakram at her side, she stood up and drew her sword in one graceful move. Xan stumbled, sword dropping from her pain-numbed fingers. A strong arm snaked across her chest, yanking her back, and she felt the sharpness of a blade against her throat. Xena took a step forward.

"Don't," warned the voice in front of her.

Shocked recognition, as much as the blade against Xan's throat, halted Xena.

"Did you miss me as much as Gabrielle did, Xena?"

A bitter wave of fear for Gabrielle swept through Xena's soul. Horror had a name, and it stood before her now.



>>>>>>>>>>>>>

By the dismal tarns and pools
Where dwell the Ghouls,-
By each spot the most unholy-
In each nook most melancholy-
There the traveler meets aghast
Sheeted Memories of the Past-
Shrouded forms that start and sigh
As they pass the wanderer by-
>>>>>>>>>>>>>



So wretchedly depraved was he, his darkness so tangible, that he did not so much become visible emerging from the shadows, as much as he merely obscured all that was light around him. Gabrielle went numb with shock and disbelief, brain desperate to disengage from the perfect fear that welled up into a silent scream of terror within her. She willed her eyes closed, but all control was lost to her and they remained frozen open as he moved to her side. His face appeared above her, partially hidden within the shadows of a hooded cloak, but easily recognizable. He had, after all, been a persistent and unwelcome guest to all of her worst nightmares.

"Gabrielle..." his voice was eerily seductive. "You don't seem pleased to see me, I'm hurt."

He laughed softly and the past flooded over her, overwhelming all her carefully fabricated barriers of acceptance and denial. In an instant she was back in the darkness, entombed with her anger, her despair and her loneliness. The unbearable sense of betrayal; Xena had abandoned her when she was hurt and afraid and vulnerable. And always, from just beyond the fragile protection of torchlight and reason, his laughter had taunted her, tortured her, and nearly driven her mad within its unshakable presence.
"Zagnan..." a voice shrieked repeatedly, soundlessly, unbelieving and deafeningly loud in her mind. "I saw you die," she whispered, finally, finding her voice, silencing the one raging in her head.

He leaned closer to her, half his face still hidden in the shadowy folds of the hood. "
Did you?"

He ran a gloved finger across her jaw and she recoiled from him, pushing hard against the pillows behind her.

"You have grown even more beautiful, Gabrielle. Yet harder, I can see it in your eyes, in your face, little of your innocence remains."

She said nothing, bracing herself against the hideousness of his touch.

"She took all that from you, didn't she? She took all that and left you with the most fundamental part of her; the dark side. And where is she now, Gabrielle, your precious Xena? She's abandoned you again, hasn't she?"

"Leave me alone," she turned her head away from the soulless black eye peering at her from beneath the hood.

He laughed again and her skin crawled at the sound of it. "Ah, Gabrielle, I have no intention of leaving you alone. You nor Xena, not after what you did to me."

She returned her disbelieving gaze to his with a derisive little laugh. "What
we did to you?"

"You unleashed the black powder on me, Gabrielle, or had you forgotten?" he bent closer to her and slowly, deliberately, pulled back the hood. One side of his face remained the same, brutally handsome, arrogantly confident. The other was a nightmarish mass of twisted, blackened tissue. A blue-white cataract floated like an opaque moon upon a viscous black pool in one unseeing eye. A small sound of disgust and dismay escaped her as she turned her head away. He grasped her jaw and roughly forced her eyes to his. She watched, with awful familiarity, as the flames of his corruptness sparked fire in the cold depths of his gaze.

"What's the matter, Gabrielle? Do you no longer find me attractive?"

"I
never- "

Suddenly, his mouth was covering hers, teeth cracking sharply against her own as his tongue shot into her mouth. Her stomach heaved with revulsion and hot bile shot up the back of her throat. She struggled to push him away. He was laughing again, pushing his mouth tightly against hers. She gagged, choking on her loathing of him, and white-hot anger at her helplessness.

"OW! Zeus!" he yelped, pulling back from her, hand covering his mouth. He lowered his hand and stared, mesmerized, at the blood on his fingertips. "You
bit me!" he declared incredulously. "You damn little Bacchae bitch," he added softly, with just a touch of awe in his voice. He stared dispassionately into her blazing blue-green eyes for a moment before he hit her.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


Where do the gods go
When the waters rise

When the winds blow

When the sun dies

-pw

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


"You leave her alone!" The voice from the doorway was remarkably hushed, filled as it was with such menace and furious outrage. Gabrielle's stomach clenched at the sound of it and Zagnan slowly turned to face the small child with the big crossbow clutched in her hands.

"Rhia, no..." Gabrielle's fear for the child overrode her own newly awakened horror of this old nemesis.

Zagnan uttered a strangled noise deep in his throat and Gabrielle looked up at him.

"You can't be here," his voice hoarse, momentarily losing his composure, he actually took a step back before recovering himself. He glanced over his shoulder at Gabrielle, and she saw something odd - disbelief? a trace of fear perhaps?
- in his face before he threw back his head and laughed heartily at the ceiling.

"Rhia, run!" Gabrielle implored the determined little warrior, who stood like an immovable rock just inside the doorway.

"Yes," Zagnan agreed, his amusement abruptly disappearing. "Do run away, little girl, before I tear you apart and eat you for dinner."

Gabrielle watched as the girl stood firm, the only movement a small muscle twitching in the determined set of her jaw.

Zagnan and the child locked eyes as he took a menacing step toward her, she merely tightened her finger on the crossbow release.

"Rhia..." Gabrielle struggled to sit up, wincing as the movement reopened a small tear in the wound in her side. Placing her hand there, she felt wetness seeping through the dressing. Rhia took her eyes off Zagnan to glance at Gabrielle and he moved quickly toward her, silent and smooth as the snake he was. Gabrielle opened her mouth to yell a warning, but, unbelievably, it was Zagnan who yelled. He took two steps back and sat down hard. Blood flowed between his fingers as he grasped the arrow planted deeply in his shoulder. Had she not been momentarily distracted, Gabrielle had no doubt that Rhia's arrow would have pierced his black heart dead center. Zagnan closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. Rhia notched another arrow within the crosspiece, pulled back on the bowstring and locked it in place. Keeping her eyes on Zagnan, she took a wide path around him and made her way to Gabrielle.

"Watch him," Rhia instructed, as she reached the bed.

Gabrielle nodded and leaned back against the pillows.

"You're bleeding again," Rhia quietly told her.

"I know," Gabrielle replied.

"Xan said that you..." Rhia left the thought unfinished. They both knew the obvious; that Gabrielle could survive the wound, but not the blood loss, there was no cure for that.

"I'll make a poultice," Rhia said determinedly. "We'll make it stop."

"Rhia."

Rhia winced inwardly at the sound of Gabrielle's voice; forced whispers of air, strength fleeing, like sand running through her fingers. Rhia looked down at her, Gabrielle's eyes were determinedly fixed on Zagnan, but they were beginning to lose focus.

"You...you have to get away from him."

"I'll tie him up."

"No!" Gabrielle insisted, voice gaining strength born of fear and grim determination. "No, don't go near him."

"But..."

"Rhia," Gabrielle pleaded. "Please. I don't want to argue with you. Just go."

Rhia was shaking her head and Gabrielle was trying to summon the will to argue with her when she sensed movement in the shadows. Zagnan was upon them before Gabrielle had time to utter a sound of warning. Rhia, however, saw the sudden fear in Gabrielle's eyes and spun around, raising the crossbow once more. But it was too late. Zagnan crashed into her, the crossbow flew from her grip, clattering to the floor a few feet from Gabrielle's bedside. Gabrielle pushed herself up and stared down at it. Rhia struggled with Zagnan and he cursed soundly as her flying feet and fists connected solidly with various susceptible body parts. He finally managed to land a hard punch of his own against her jaw. She turned from him, momentarily stunned, and stumbled away. He grabbed her from behind, pulling her against him, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she struggled. Gabrielle fought with the absolute need to pick up the crossbow and the revulsion in her heart at the thought of doing so. She glanced up at Zagnan, at his hideous hands on the child, and reached for the crossbow. She fought to hold it steady. She had not held a killing weapon in her hands for so long; it felt disturbingly alien, she felt sick. Sweat poured into her eyes, blurring her vision. She swiped a shoulder across her burning eyes, focused on Zagnan and pressed a hesitant, trembling finger against the release. Zagnan swung around, putting Rhia between himself and the wavering crossbow in Gabrielle's hands.

"Shoot him!" Rhia screamed, trying to duck out of the way.

"Yessss, Gabrielle..." Zagnan hissed, tightening his grip on Rhia. "Go ahead, shoot."

"Let her go!"

"Come, Gabrielle," he urged breathlessly. "You have what it takes, you've had the best teacher in the world, have you not?"

Her finger touched the trigger, more firmly this time. Time and motion slowed, once again taking on a dreamlike quality. Gabrielle could hear her own heartbeat, her harsh breath rasping in her lungs, her head throbbed with pain. The air grew heavy and dank; it
breathed as if it were alive. Rhia stopped struggling and stood motionless, eyes boring into Gabrielle's. She blinked, lashes lowering, rising, ever so slowly, like an owl in sudden sunlight, as she inclined her head slightly toward Gabrielle.

"Come on, do it! You know you want to. It is, after all, who you are, what you have become," Zagnan's taunting voice, sounding deeply distorted, words drawn out, surreal. Moving his hands to either side of Rhia's head, he bent down, resting his head on her shoulder. "Or will you sacrifice yet another in the way of love, Gabrielle?"

Time halted. Rhianna's eyes caught hers and held, Gabrielle's heart staggered under the weight of them.

"Chose..." Rhia whispered. The word hung suspended like a swollen drop of moisture in the thick air surrounding them. It fell, then, like a petal from a flower, landing in a pool of absolute silence.

Gabrielle's hand began to tremble; she hesitated, just for a moment to steady it. And in that tiny instant of indecision, a terrible
crack! shattered the silence and Gabrielle's heart simultaneously; Zagnan snapped Rhia's neck like a twig.



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

All of us are travelers lost,
our tickets arranged at a cost

unknown

but beyond our means.
- dean koontz

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Noooo!" Gabrielle cried, reflexively squeezing the trigger of the crossbow. She never heard its whispered flight, nor the startled grunt that followed, her eyes were fixed on the child lying crumpled on the floor. The crossbow dropped, unnoticed and forgotten now, from her hands. Gabrielle fought to get to her feet, cursing her weakness, closing her eyes against the unrelenting pain, opening them again to the insufferable sight of Zagnan at her side. "You bastard!" she seethed. "Damn you! damn your rotten soul!"

Laughing down at her, he knelt beside her, grabbing her wrist as she swung at him. Sick at heart, mortally wounded in soul, she cursed him, the Fates, and the gods who permitted the unthinkable to be done to the undeserving by the unjust. Zagnan shoved her roughly back against the pillows.

"You're done," he sneered at her, as she glared into his eyes. "You have no one, nothing left. You followed your righteous path, and it led you to this."

She sucked in a sharp breath of both pain and shock as he pushed his hand against her side. His touch was icy cold, even through the layers of seeping bandage covering the wound. She turned her head away as he removed his hand and held it, covered now with her blood, before her eyes.

"You will die a slow and miserable death. No one is coming, Gabrielle," his voice was a merciless drone in her ears. "I took them all away from you. The foolish Amazons who stayed to keep you safe, that annoying child, all of them."

She said nothing, closing her eyes, seeking even the formidable darkness against the dread each word instilled in her heart.

"No one, Gabrielle!" he insisted, inches from her face. "Your precious Xena, Xandra, I destroyed them, do you hear me!"

She opened her eyes then and turned her head toward him as he knew she would. He waited, in gleeful anticipation, for her mind to wrap itself around his words, for comprehension to dawn in those haunted, green eyes, and for the satisfying snap of mind and spirit breaking under his onslaught. The tears were there, the light too, though it was fading, along with the stream of warm life seeping from her side. She whispered something he could not hear.

"What?" he asked, placing his ear close to her lips.



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Something moves within the night

That is not good and is not right.

-dean koontz

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



"Not quite what you expected to hear her say, I suspect."

Zagnan started a bit as he left the hut and Hecate's amused voice and unsettling presence slipped from the darkness, materializing close by his side. He glanced around her, then turned a somewhat petulant gaze to a point within the dark hood to where he thought her eyes should be.

Hecate leaned close. "Looking for something?"

"Those bloody hounds of yours," he answered, looking away, having guessed right about the location of her eyes and regretting it. "They are unpredictable and- "

"Very close by," Hecate interrupted, watching him with interest.

Zagnan followed her gaze to his bloodied shoulder, where not one, but two, arrows had lodged. "A minor annoyance," he stated irritably.

"This much lower," Hecate told him, marking a tiny space between her finger and thumb. "And you would be annoying the worms."

"Our work here is done," he said flatly, ignoring her sarcasm. "Where is Xena? I want to finish this."

"I find myself wondering," Hecate ventured, moving uncomfortably closer. "If your part in this has not so much to do with serving certain entities, as with something more personal."

"Such as?"

"Such as revenge."

Her statement was met with silence.

"You do not deny it," Hecate stated.

"I do not answer to you, Hecate."

"Nor I to you," she reminded him.

"Just because you don't approve of my methods does not give you the right to question my loyalties, nor my motives. Besides, things have worked out rather nicely, you did a magnificent job of manipulating, as usual- "

"I had nothing to do with this," she declared peevishly, dark sleeve billowing as she gestured toward the hut.

"Of course you did..."

"You used me, Zagnan and I am less than pleased."

"Why so defensive? Things are working out as planned. What's wrong, Hecate, have you gone softhearted over the little bard?"

Hecate uttered a derisive snort; Zagnan had the fleeting and altogether discomfiting impression that a small puff of flame and smoke followed.

"You know nothing, Zagnan, and you assume too much, one day, it will be your undoing."
"Could it be," Zagnan persisted, foolishly ignoring her warning tone. "That the goddess of darkness is feeling guilty at what she set in motion so long ago? Your hands are as bloody as mine, Hecate, maybe more so."

Hecate stiffened at either the accusation, or the suggestion of feeling guilt. "I tormented them. I do not physically torture them."

It was Zagnan's turn to snort. "Do not take that moral high ground with me, Hecate! You possess no more morals than a snake. You are a predator. You lie in wait until someone like me weakens your prey, then you ooze from the darkness into their dreams. You prey upon their physical weakness as well as their guilt. You reveal to them the existence and undeniable truths of their worst nightmares. You leave them doubting their sanity, their innocence, their reality. You leave them screaming for the false security of the dawn, and then you rip that away from them as well."

The tirade ceased for a moment as he gathered his thoughts and studied Hecate's unmoving, shrouded form. He noticed then, that her three black hounds lay curiously unconcerned at her feet, save for the one she called Tess, who stared at him with rapt attention. Encouraged by her silence and his own foolishly imagined superiority, he continued. "But it is all just tricks and mind games with you. The weak tremble before you, but I am the one who weakens the strong and brings them down.
I, Hecate, I am your worst nightmare."

Hecate turned slowly, eyes beneath the shadowed hood ablaze with soulless heat. A rictus grin suddenly split the humanly perceived visage within; it shattered noiselessly and melted into an inky abyss of eternal darkness. Hecate's true countenance began to reveal itself, undistorted, awesome, unspeakably evil. The mere demon before her in the guise of a man fell back, appalled by her repulsiveness, nearly shrieking like a child in perfect, unequivocal fear. She stood laughing in a fiery sea of blood. A string of skulls dangled carelessly from one hand, mouths stretched wide, they shrieked soundlessly in eternal torment. The air was icy, yet wavered, impossibly, with shimmering heat as the hooded figure inched agonizingly closer to his face. The hounds, on their feet now, trembled, with either fear or excitement, in anticipation. He watched, mesmerized, as the face swirled and shifted into exquisite nightmare images, reflections of submerged and forgotten fears so terrible they were nearly incomprehensible.

She reached out, bone white finger coming to rest on his now trembling shoulder. The pale face with the deceptive smile slowly reassembled itself. An eyebrow lifted above a desolate, shark-like eye; pitiless, merciless and terrifying.

"Oooo, I am very,
very, good, aren't I?" Her breath was a sulfurous sigh, her voice permeated with the plaintive cries of uncountable lost souls. She removed her finger from his shoulder, leaving a small, smoking scorch mark surrounded by tiny blue crystals of frost. "Behold," she commanded with a nasty chuckle, eyes drifting downward as she slid away and merged effortlessly with the darkness. "It appears as though my worst nightmare has soiled his pants."

Zagnan stood still for a moment, trembling with both fear and anger, before deciding, as all bullies do, as to which innocent he should direct his rage. He was livid, mad with power mixed with a healthy dose of humiliation, and he wanted to kill something,
needed to kill something. He glanced back over his shoulder through the darkened doorway... and smiled.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I drew my saber through her, which was a bloody knife

I threw her in the river, which was a dreadful sight

My race is run beneath the sun, what waits for me is Hell

For I have murdered that dear little girl

Whose name was Gabrielle

-Down by the Willow Garden

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



"You look so surprised, Xena, and less than pleased to see me." Zagnan tightened his grip on Xan and the knife at her throat.

"Yeah, well, I get this same look every time I see a cockroach."

Zagnan laughed. "Put down your sword, Xena."

Xena cocked her head to the side. "And why, pray tell, would I want to do that?"

"Because if you don't, I'm going to slit her throat from ear to ear."

Xena shrugged.

"You know I'll do it, Xena."

"So, do it," Xena told him, unconcerned.

Zagnan stared at her, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. Even Xan, who had been subtly easing Zagnan back toward the crevasse, shot Xena an alarmed look.

"You expect me to believe you don't care about her?"

"Believe what you like, Zagnan."

Xena moved closer, Zagnan retreated a step and smiled at her. The sight made Xena's skin crawl.

"You haven't changed a bit, Xena. I actually do believe you." Zagnan was mere inches from the deep drop behind him when he stopped abruptly. "Foolish girl!" he hissed in Xandra's ear. "Do you think I don't know what you are trying to do? Zagnan pressed the blade tighter against Xan's throat, drawing a thin line of blood. "So, Xena, shall I rid you of this thorn in your side?" Zagnan shifted his position, removing his back from the precipice and forcing Xan to the edge. Xan sucked in a breath as her foot slid over into nothingness.

Xena smiled slightly, saying nothing, eyes locked onto Zagnan's as she moved to stand beside them. "You're beginning to bore me, Zagnan."

Zagnan's skin prickled at the coldness of that grin, the contemptuous, dangerous gleam in her eyes, the unspoken threat in her words. He came to a sudden and unwelcome realization; a darker evil than he ever imagined lived behind those deceivingly beautiful eyes. It excited him, aroused him and seriously frightened him. He embraced the fear, forcing it outward, exalting in its deceptive power.

The sun, its face an angry red, fought for dominance over a tenacious, lingering darkness. The knife glowed crimson in Zagnan's hand. It was a wicked blade; jagged, a silver bolt of lightning. An image of the scar on Gabrielle's hand flashed through Xena's mind.

"Shall I cut her up and serve her to you, Xena, a bloody piece at a time?" he brought the tip of the knife to Xan's eye. "She really doesn't care, you realize that, of course," Zagnan's mouth was close to Xan's ear, he moved the knife away slightly. "She cares for only one. Is this not so, Xena?"

Xena remained silent, unmoved, as Zagnan watched in vain for some change in the icy blue emptiness of her gaze as she drew nearer.

"She will care even less about you in a moment," Zagnan persisted, taking a step back, pulling Xan with him. "Do you want to know why?"

The light grew dim and the land gray as the sun disappeared behind a cloak of forbidding dark clouds.

"Gabrielle cared about you, Xandra," Xan grew rigid in his grip. Zagnan never took his eyes from Xena's face. "It was you she called out for, Xandra, in her helplessness, in her fear, in her pain..." Zagnan stared into Xena's eyes, transfixed by what he saw in them; the sky before a storm, seawater, deep, dark and cold, where the monsters live. "Your name, Xandra," Zagnan's voice, soft, low, hypnotic, "on her lips... wondering why you didn't come...as I cut her... Just. Like. Rachel."

Xan's eyes met Xena's briefly as Zagnan's words chilled her soul like a cold, gray rain, then inflamed her with a hot, searing rage.

"No!" Xena shouted, a silent plea, an admonition that Xan did not heed.

Xan moved her head forward, ignoring the stinging bite of the blade, then thrust it violently back. Zagnan's nose shattered with a sickening crunch and a spurt of bright red blood. His wet, guttural snarl merged with Xan's cry of shock and pain as Zagnan drove the blade deep before pushing her away from him. Xena dove forward, dropping her sword, grabbing Xan's arm with both hands as she blindly stumbled over the edge into nothingness.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Heroes rise...

Heroes fall

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The momentum of Xan's free-fall pulled Xena half over the edge herself. She grabbed wildly for purchase with one hand while maintaining a death grip on Xan's wrist with the other. In a matter of moments and in quick succession, she grabbed at a rotten log which crumbled, an utterly useless handful of dried grass and finally, remarkably, a piece of knotted rope which held, pulled loose, then held again as Xan's weight pulled her completely over the side. This piece of rotting rigging was all that remained of a narrow rope bridge that had once crossed the chasm. The two successive jolts first dislocated Xena's shoulder and then yanked it back in place again with an audible pop! Xena grunted; a strangled utterance, somewhere between a laugh and a cry. They hung there, suspended over extinction, twisting slowly in a maliciously rising wind. Xena grimly clenched her teeth against the pain of tormented bone, tendon and muscle with Xan a dead and ominously still weight beneath her.

"Xan," Xena called out. Nothing. Xena tried again and again received no response. "Xandra! Dammit!"

Xan heard her name and, more importantly, recognized the voice as well as the tone. Xena. And she was pissed. Xan lifted her head a little, wondering what she had done wrong now. Her face felt warm, wet and uncomfortably sticky. She tried lifting her arm to make use of her sleeve and found she could not. She found this vaguely disturbing and extremely annoying. Xena called her name again.

"What?" Xan's own voice sounded odd to her, hers, but not hers, distant and hollow.

"Xan, grab on to me!"

This made even less sense to her. She decided she must be dreaming, and if she was dreaming she needed to wake up, and to wake up she merely needed to open her eyes. She did. And wished with all her heart that she hadn't. The nightmare came rushing back in glorious detail, painfully perfect, undeniably real. Xena looked down as she felt Xan's body spasm convulsively below her. She sucked in a startled breath as Xan looked up at her through a bright red haze of agony. Xena closed her eyes for a moment, then closed her mind to the forbidding implications of Xan's bloodied face by convincing herself that it probably looked a lot worse than it was. "Xan. Xan, you have to help me."

"Can't."

"Yes you can!"

"Uh-uh... pain. Lots and lots of it."

"I know, but I can't hold you, you have to help. Reach up and grab onto me."

Xan lowered her head. Silence. Xena felt Xan's fingers, which had instinctively gripped Xena's wrist as she fell, begin to loosen. "Xan!" Xena hissed, through tightly clenched teeth.

"Let me go."

"Not an option. Dammit, Xandra, grab on and haul your ass up here, Gabrielle will kill me if I lose you!"

Silence below, movement above her. They were running out of time.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I've reached in darkness

And come out with treasures
I've laid down with love

And woke up with lies
What's it all worth?

Only the heart can measure
It's not what's in the mirror,

But what's left inside

-stevie nicks

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Xan uttered a strange sound. Disbelief and relief in equal measure registered as Xena recognized the sound; incredibly, Xan was laughing. Xena looked down as Xan looked up at her. A frozen grin spread itself across Xan's face. Oozing blood staining the perfect white of her teeth made it a particularly ghastly sight. One silvery eye shimmered like quicksilver; the other was awash in scarlet. Xena felt a moment of panic as Xan's fingers unwound from her wrist, but they quickly returned with renewed strength.

"Help me," Xan demanded, voice hoarse, but determinedly strong.

Xena grunted with the effort of pulling Xan higher, teeth clenching tighter yet against the screaming agony in her shoulder. They slipped down another foot. Xena held her breath, waiting for the gnarly rope to give way completely. But the rope was holding. It was, in fact, the copious bleeding from the reopened wound in her hand that had caused the downward slide. Xena cursed silently, then let out a small, involuntary gasp as Xan's cold, wet fingers wrapped themselves around her thigh. And in one of those odd wavers in time, when perception becomes muddled by stress and the mind reacts by heightening past images to crystal clarity, Xena experienced a vivid flashback.

Dangling in a deep well; Gabrielle's panicked, peculiarly comic, yet oddly erotic struggle to pull herself up Xena's body to safety above.

Xena was reluctant to let it go, but the image was fleeting. Dissipated by reality, it blew apart like smoke within a maelstrom of caustic curses from Xan as she groped her way upward. Xan reached up, using sheer willpower and a final boost from Xena, she pulled herself, exhausted and totally spent, over the top. Xan turned onto her back and struggled to sit up so she could help Xena. But, the pain, the nausea and the darkness were dragging her down. And, finally, her body betrayed her and her mind, following the body's sensible lead, shut down, immediately withdrawing to a safer haven.



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Even heroes die...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The sun broke through again just as Xena gained topside beside Xan. Xena was not exactly clear on how she had managed to get here, but here she was. The appearance of the sun at that moment proved a unique blessing, because the shadow it exposed was the only warning Xena had. She ducked away from much of the power behind Zagnan's kick, which was fortunate, because even what connected was enough to do considerable damage. Fortunate, too, was the fact that the near miss, coupled with the muddy ground, threw Zagnan off balance enough to land him on his ass and give her time to recover. Shaking her head to clear it, grimacing at the coppery taste in her mouth, she spit blood. And more. She had a brief moment to lament, and curse, the loss of yet another good chewing tooth. An inane, yet nonetheless disturbing, thought passed quickly in and out of her mind; if she kept losing teeth at her current rate, she was going to be totally toothless before she reached forty. Zagnan, knife in hand, reappeared amidst Xena's prophesying just as she got to her knees. He aimed another kick at her head and she grabbed his foot. As luck, or rather the lack thereof, would have it, the combination of pushing him away, a bullying wind, the onerous mud and crumbling earth sent her, maddeningly, sliding right back over the edge. She grabbed onto Xan's coat, which ripped but halted her slide, and began to ease herself back up. Zagnan's blade touched back of her bloodied hand, which rested just above Xan's heart. Xena looked up into the twin pools of madness that were Zagnan's eyes. He presented her a nightmarish grin as he drove the knife deeper by degrees, obsidian eyes burning with triumphant insanity.

"Good-bye, Xena. Hades is expecting you both."

He half stood, out of her limited reach, to bear more pressure on the knife. In desperation, Xena grabbed the blade with her other hand. It was a futile effort, gaining her little except more pain and blood. She had little leverage and no hope against Zagnan's unworldly strength and demented determination. Xena's weight began pulling her and Xan, again, inexorably over the edge. She thought, invariably, of Gabrielle, and that thought was enough to give her one final victory over Zagnan. A warm and peaceful presence embraced her. Suffering, sadness and grief all faded as the sun breached the clouds once more, bathing them in molten gold. Xena raised her head and calmly met his eyes, a secret smile played at her lips, stealing his thunder, leaving him not only bewildered, but feeling thoroughly cheated as well.



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

His madness was not of the head, but the heart

-byron

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



Zagnan roared his displeasure, and in doing so, heard not a whisper of the silent, deadly menace hurtling toward him. He must have sensed it, however, because he turned at the last moment as darkness met darkness; all growl and teeth and slathering jaws. Xena's blood ran cold at the sound of ripping, tearing flesh, the gnashing of teeth against bone. Finally, wearily, almost regretfully, as Zagnan's frenzied screams shattered the fragile peace surrounding her, she pulled herself painfully up to lie beside Xan. Eventually, Zagnan's shrieks faded, turned wet, and were replaced by a rather gruesome gurgling and a welcome quiet. Xena lay on her back beside Xan and stared up at the sun; a bulging sphere of red fire being cautiously passed from limb to limb through the towering trees. She listened to a dead silence, which somehow breathed with life. She thought about all the things she had to do. She needed to rest, though, just for a moment. Just close her eyes and her mind for a short time. Surely, she deserved a small respite from this particular nightmare. Xena moved close beside Xan, slid a gentle arm across her chest, closed her eyes, and tumbled into a deep, dreamless sleep.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Night has patterns

That can be read

Less by the living

Than by the dead

-dean koontz

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Xena opened her eyes and found darkness; the sun having been harvested by a thin, bright scythe of ice that was the moon. Stars glittered like diamonds upon a velvet cape of midnight blue. Shivering cold, weary to the bone and hurting everywhere she was not numb, Xena grunted as she reluctantly pushed herself up. Xan mumbled a feeble, but heartfelt, protest as Xena's warmth withdrew. Sensing another presence, reaching in vain for a weapon that was not there, Xena turned her head slowly to the right and found herself staring into the dripping jaws of the hound. She winced, leaning away from bloody pieces of skin and other unsavory morsels adhering to its formidable teeth, to say nothing of its offensive breath.

"I never did like that man," the voice sailed in on an icy gust of wind that shook the trees and pushed a cloud across the moon, bathing the earth in velvet blue shadow.

Xena looked up, inexplicably having no problem in the near dark discerning the ever-changing countenance beneath the black cowl; the midnight desolation from which nightmares took wing. Hecate watched impassively as Xena struggled to her feet only to take a few steps toward her and fall down again. Hecate made a tsking sound between her teeth. Xena cursed soundly under her breath and fought to a sitting position only to find Hecate bending over Xan.

"Don't," Xena warned.

"Just looking," Hecate replied airily, straightening up at Xan's side.

Xena took a few deep breaths of deliciously cool air and waited until the horizon stopped shifting before attempting to move again. She traveled a slightly erratic course back to Xan's side and sat down heavily beside her.

Hecate loomed over Xena like a dark cloud. "Nasty," she observed with a prudishly droll little sniff.

"He hurt her. He cut her eye. Damn his miserable soul," Xena seethed angrily.

"I meant you."

Xena looked up at her.

"Your hands."

Xena looked at her hands, one of which was trailing blood and dirty bandage, the other of which merely bled from both sides. And, now that Hecate had so graciously pointed it out, hurt like Tartarus. Xena looked around for something to wrap around them and saw two pieces of black cloth dangling in front of her nose. She looked up. The cloth came from the depths of Hecate's dark sleeve. She took hold of them and for a very unsettling moment they slithered through her fingers like twin black snakes. She blinked and they changed again, floating down like fine silk. Xena said nothing, but gave Hecate a withering look. She was in no mood for mind games.

"I can cauterize that," Hecate offered, luminous white grin appearing like magick within the dark folds of the hood.

"No thanks," Xena replied, wrapping the pieces of cloth around her hands, using her teeth to pull the knots tight. The cloth was very warm and smelled of herbs and something unidentifiable, which made her shiver.

"I'm very good at it."

"No doubt," Xena mumbled, glancing upward once more. "But, I'll pass."

Hecate shrugged. Xena felt dizzy. Hecate handed her a water bag, which Xena sniffed suspiciously.

"It's just water," Hecate promised, sounding amused.

Xena drank thirstily, Hecate watched impassively as she drank too much, too fast. Hecate grimaced in fastidious distaste when Xena threw up.

"You should know better," Hecate admonished.

"Yeah, well...." Xena answered, rinsing her mouth and spitting.

"Cyrene would be appalled."

"You don't know my mother," Xena retorted harshly, giving Hecate a mean look.

"Of course I do," Hecate stated offhandedly, unfazed by the look. "She killed your father; we are on intimate terms.".

Xena huffed out a breath, well past too tired to argue the point. Besides, part of it was true.

'"Why don't you rest for a bit," Hecate suggested. "I'll look after your friend."

"I think not."

"You don't trust me?"

Xena just looked at her, detecting a hint of arctic whiteness beneath the shadowy cowl, which suggested Hecate was smiling.

"I'll be good, you have my word. I need you rested and fed and attentive. I need very much to talk to you."

Hecate produced a blanket, which was unaccountably warm, and handed it to her. Another one, unnoticed until now, covered Xan. There was a pot bubbling merrily over the fire. Fire. Which Xena had also not noticed, but at least explained how she was able to see in the nearly impenetrable darkness surrounding them.

"I'm good at fire," Hecate informed her.

"Big surprise," Xena replied.

"And broth," Hecate added, handing her a steaming cup.

Xena shook her head a little at Hecate's sleight of hand and unquenchable penchant for mystical showmanship. Against her better judgment, Xena relented to the extremely vocal grumbling of her stomach and drank the broth. Xena watched Hecate closely as she quickly emptied the cup, then turned her attention to Xan's wounds, some of which, to her dismay, were even worse than she had feared. The wound at her throat, thankfully, was not deep and had stopped bleeding. There was a bone deep gash just below her eye, which was still oozing blood. But, the worst was yet to be seen. Xena took a deep breath and held it as she lifted the bloody eyelid as gently as she could. Xan moaned and Xena's heart sank as she surveyed the irreparable damage. "Gone," Xena whispered, unaware that she had spoken.

Utterly destroyed, one half of the exquisite, silvery beauty that were Xan's eyes. All that remained from the savagery of Zagnan's blade was an appalling mix of viscous fluid, blood and tissue. Xena closed her eyes denying herself, for now, the luxury of useless tears and seething rage at the unfairness of it all. Suppressing, too, thoughts of Gabrielle and what brutality Zagnan may have visited on her.

"Vile, detestable little man," Hecate hissed, startling Xena, who had forgotten she was there.

Xena looked up at her, raising a suspicious eyebrow at a small medicine bag Hecate was offering. "He was one of yours, wasn't he?" she asked, gingerly plucking the medicine pouch from the end of Hecate's sleeve.

The hood drew back. "Please. I do have certain standards."

Xena couldn't help it, she laughed. Hecate looked offended.

Xena had dressed Xan's wounds as best she could before she noticed that the medicine bag looked suspiciously like Rhianna's. Xena directed her formidable blue gaze into the depths of the hood and Hecate was caught unaware by the eyes to die for. Xena felt her mind tremble, shift and slide. Downward, with a stomach-wrenching lurch, it dropped like a stone toward an abyss of swirling, sucking darkness. All manner of horror and wretchedness reached up with grasping, skeletal hands. Countless tormented souls, alone and hopelessly lost within despicable nightmares, screamed soundlessly, endlessly, bound forever in eternal night. Xena sucked in a searing, agonizing breath, which very nearly incinerated her soul. A blinding flash of incandescent blue cauterized, cleansed and released her mind, leaving a crimson stain before her eyes and, thankfully, no memory of what she had just seen. Xena then did something she had never done before. Something aside, that is, from getting her own personal glimpse of Hell. She fainted dead away.

Hecate scowled down at her. Uncharacteristically shaken herself, and for the most part, most unappreciative of the uninvited view of Xena's dark past and its dire consequences. The hound at her feet shook herself and snorted. Hecate looked down at her; the hound met her gaze with knowing eyes.

"Well, perhaps you are right, Tess. It is rather pointless to harbor feelings of petty jealousy toward her. After all, I am the goddess of night, she has retired."

The hound raised an expressive eyebrow. Hecate grinned and Tess blinked. Hecate's grin was unsettling, even to the beasts of the netherworld.

"But, it lies within her still," Hecate informed the hound. "And that, you see, is what makes her so much fun."



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I took a walk around the world

To ease my troubled mind
I left my body lying somewhere
In the sands of time
I watched the world float to the dark
Side of the moon

After all, I knew it had something to do with you...
-five for fighting

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Xena dreamt badly during her short absence and woke herself, again, calling Gabrielle's name.

"Zagnan told her that you weren't coming, told Gabrielle that is, that he had killed both you and Xandra." Hecate began the story as if no time had passed between them.

Xena lifted her head and looked up at her. Hecate's smile was in place; a glint of white within the shadowy depths of the ever-present hood. And which, as usual, was acutely more unnerving than her scowl. "It had a rather profound effect on her," Hecate added.

Xena waited, saying nothing. She shifted her gaze to Xan; all that was visible of her beneath the blanket was a seeping bandage of red.

"Gabrielle told him that he was a rather pathetic liar," Hecate continued, drawing Xena's attention once more. "And made a quite unsavory remark as to her thoughts of his probable origins. I must say, I was rather impressed with her insight, as well as her vocabulary. "

"Well, she is a bard," A brief and hard little smile touched Xena's lips.

"She is the most amazing child," Hecate mused, mostly to herself.

"She's not a child," Xena countered tiredly, resting her head against her knees.

The hood shifted in her direction. "Ah, but she is. More than you realize, and much more than you give her credit for."

Xena lifted her head at this odd statement and gazed into the obscure shadows of the cowl.

Hecate's eye's met hers and held. "Children have such wisdom and honesty. They love and trust without question until they are taught otherwise. To retain the child within the woman is a gift, a blessing, if you will. If you lose this gift you do not mature, you merely grow old. She shares this gift with you."

Xena gave her a peculiar look, then returned her attention to Xan.

"What?" Hecate asked of the look.

"I just find all this rather strange coming from the goddess of darkness."

"You mean something so profound?"

"That's not quite the word I was thinking of, more along the lines of..."

"Wise? Insightful"

"Corny," Xena concluded, looking up at her.

The hood withdrew a bit, then another grainy white grin materialized within the gloom therein. At least Xena assumed it was a grin, since it was accompanied by a raspy wheeze that may have passed for a chuckle from one who seldom had occasion to use it. It went on for a few moments until Hecate received another peculiar look, this time from the great hound lying at her feet. Hecate recovered herself and replaced the laugh with a frigid smile, eyes shimmering like sunlight on ice.

"Why did you help us?" Xena asked.

"You mean aside from the goodness of my heart?"

Xena raised an eyebrow.

"You mortals never appreciate my humor."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't all that funny."

"You know, the bard said the very same thing. You two just do not appreciate…ah, well, I digress. How about a history lesson instead?"

"Seeing as how you are older than Zeus, I don't know if I have the time." And the need to get to Gabrielle was driving her somewhere very close to panic-stricken madness.

Again the slight chuckle, like rough cloth rubbing on sand. "The edited version, then, until your friend comes around. Or not," Hecate added, after glancing at the now blood soaked dressing covering Xan's face.

"She'll be all right," Xena replied, quietly hopeful.

"She'll be left half blind and with a thirst for revenge that will not be sated."

"She'll live with it."

Hecate sniffed. "I suppose you're right. If you want to just leave her here, go see about Gabrielle, I'll watch over her."

"I don't think so."

"You still do not trust me?"

"Not one bit."

"I'm flattered."

Xena gave her a chilly half smile. The beast growled low in her chest, Hecate reached down and touched the hound's head. Xena's grin had much the same effect on the hound as Hecate's. Xena ignored the animal and turned her attention to Xan for a few moments, when she looked up again Hecate was sitting close beside her. A little too close. Xena stared intently into the shadowed hood. She could never focus on a "face" for Hecate, because she wore so many. It was uniquely disquieting. Xena suddenly drew back, startled, as an image of a young woman with auburn hair and jade green eyes stared back at her through a swirling mist. "Rachel…" she whispered.

For an extraordinary moment, Xena was gazing into the eyes of her daughter. A feeling of absolute loss swept over her, through her. She was, briefly, utterly vulnerable and defenseless in its wake. She blinked and the image was gone. All that remained was heaviness in her heart and weightlessness in her head. But the need remained. She stared intently into infinite darkness, striving to reconnect with her daughter; nothing, no one, was more important to her at this particular moment. The darkness resisted her at first, then it began to weaken. Xena pushed harder, it relented and just as it began to gently lull her deeper she felt a sudden, vivid jolt of fear. She struggled to free herself from Hecate's insidious hold and there followed a quietly intense battle of wills. The hound eyed them both with bright, intelligent eyes. Hecate uttered an unearthly sound that could have meant anything, or nothing at all. The air between them contracted, then snapped like a bowstring.

"Impressive," Hecate remarked. The word dropped like a stone into a bottomless well of silence, falling heavily into nothingness. Hecate stood, or rather, rose like a column of smoke; effortlessly graceful and without a whisper of sound.

Xena drew a deep breath and rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. It came away with a fresh dark stain of red; her nose was bleeding.

"There has always been evil in the world," Hecate began, again, as if nothing had happened. "And where there is evil, there am I."

"It's what you do," Xena intoned flatly, pressing the back of a bandaged hand against her nose.

"Yes!" Hecate replied, delighted. "There is also good. Two sides, if you will, to the same coin. There is an extremely tenuous balance between the two. Sometimes the balance shifts. And when that happens, one side will create an adjustment, so to speak. It is a system of checks and balances, you see?"

Xena said nothing, but Hecate seemed pleased by her rapt attention.

"Something, or someone," Hecate's eyes burned meaningfully into Xena's, "comes along to balance the scales. But extraordinary things tend to happen when mortals are involved. Having free will makes them a fickle lot; they change sides, sometimes more than once. So the checks and balances themselves are forever changing, both sides are always watching, and creating new ones. It's a game, you see?"

"Maybe to you."

"Ah, yes, I have noticed that the majority of mortals are not fond of the game. In all fairness, perhaps 'game' is not truly the right word for all concerned. Perhaps 'life' would be a better choice."

Xena pondered this for a moment. "So, you helped us because you needed to balance the scales?"

"No, I helped you because Tess took it upon herself to exact revenge. She's rather impetuous, has little in the way of restraint when she's... uhm... pissed off, for lack of a better term. I can't say as I blame her in this case, he was an annoying and distasteful little man." Hecate grew silent for a moment; Xena returned her attention to Xan.

"Rachel..."

Xena lifted her head at the sound of her daughter's name on Hecate's lips. "What about her?" she asked icily.

"She was part of the balance. It seems to run in the family."

And Catherine? Xena wondered to herself.

"Yes, her, too."

Xena said nothing. She did not know if Hecate could, indeed, read her thoughts, but she had no doubt that she was attuned to her nightmares. "Where is she?" Xena asked.

"I can't say."

"Can't, or won't?"

The arctic smile again. "Very few people have that information. Tess has put a rather messy end to one." A nod toward Zagnan.

Xena stared at her for a long moment. Just as she began to break eye contact Hecate pulled her back with a single word; "Ephiny."

Xena's teeth clenched, a small muscle in her jaw began to twitch.

"She knows, of course," Hecate continued. "You entrusted her with something most cherished. It is the reason you came here, is it not? To seek Ephiny and her precious knowledge?"

Xan groaned a little, her hand moving toward the dressing covering her eye. Xena grabbed her wrist. When she turned, she found Hecate sitting close beside her again. Xena shivered and right on cue the flames of the fire rose higher. Xena directed a narrow gaze into the hood.

"She's coming around," Hecate said innocently.

"Yes. I believe she is," Xena replied, pulling her blanket up around her shoulders. She was still cold, in spite of the fire.

"She will be royally pissed off as well. If you'll excuse my rather vulgar slang."

Xena agreed. Xan settled and Xena shifted her gaze toward Hecate, taking care, this time, not to sink into the enchanting mysteries of her quicksand eyes.

"The child was… special, you know that, of course," Hecate went on.

Xena felt a jolt of icy cold slither down her spine. "What do you mean was? Which child?" Xena thought of both Rhianna and her grandchild. Then again, given Hecate's age, or agelessness as it were, and her penchant for game playing, she could be speaking of almost anyone. Even Gabrielle was a child to Hecate.

"They are as one, in their way."

"I'm not in the mood for riddles, Hecate."

Hecate was silent, the hood grew dark inside, as if she had reverted to nothingness to reflect on what she was about to reveal. Xena was equally unnerved and fascinated. A face appeared, or rather, the suggestion of a face. Xena looked away, it was like trying to watch the wind; you couldn't really see it, you just saw the results of its passing.

"I will tell you what I will, you will not interrupt, you will not question, just listen. You must pay attention, for it is complicated, extremely so. I will speak in the present, though it may not be so."

"All right."

If Hecate expected an argument, or confusion, on Xena's part, she did not show it, she merely began again.

"She is a balance. She has remarkable powers," a significant glance at Xena, "as all balances do. She bore watching and both sides were watching. I used Tess," the beast raised her massive head at the sound of her name. "And Tess chose her own medium. I warned Tess that she would be vulnerable if she chose an earthly form, especially one that was accessible and being used, occasionally, by the other side. But, Tess held her own quite well until that imbecile Zagnan decided to interfere. He set that disgusting, rabid hog on the child, and Tess struggled to control the medium. The need to save the child, at times, overtook Tess' more selfish desire to let her fend for herself, as is often the case where love and loyalty are involved." Hecate reached down and touched the animal. "You silly hound," she scolded with affection. "You are fortunate that they did not kill you."

Hecate stood, actually, it was more like she drifted higher; sitting and standing did not really apply to her movements.

"I owed you a debt, Xena, both you and Gabrielle, for saving Tess. I always repay my debts."

Xena looked up at her.

"I know, you did it for the child, Xena. But you knew, didn't you, that something was amiss with the dog." It was not a question and Hecate did not wait for an answer. "Go where she dwells, if you dare," she instructed. "You will find both reprieve and reproach. You may find more than you want to know. And, because I am also indebted to Gabrielle, I will tell you this; if she can be saved, she must be given back what she has lost. You, and you alone, can do that."

Xan moved under Xena's hand, Xena looked down at her.

"If it's any consolation," Hecate's voice was growing distant, "Zagnan murdered his own soul when he killed that child."

"It's not enough," Xena replied in turn. "It's not nearly enough." Xena looked up, again desiring to know of which child Hecate spoke. But darkness had swallowed darkness; Hecate and her hound were gone.



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

What is vengeance, after all, if not rough justice..

-pw.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



Xan, aided by Hecate's mysterious, pain-numbing broth, Rhianna's medicines, Xena's strong arm and her own stubbornness, got shakily to her feet. Xena knew that attempting to talk Xan into staying put would be a waste of breath, so she made no effort to try. It was all she could do to keep her from leaving until dawn. Common sense dictated they would be much better off if they waited out the short amount of time until first light, with much less risk of injury to themselves or to the horses. But the waiting was agony for them both. Neither of them slept; too many nightmares lurked in that realm of counterfeit death, waiting to invade their dreams and lay claim to their souls. One dark goddess in particular, now that she considered her debts paid, was an eminent and undeniable danger, too persistent to ignore.

Xena saddled the horses in the waning darkness as Xan doused the fire and stowed gear. Xan worked slowly and methodically, doggedly determined to distance herself from pain both physical and mental. Xena looked around to find her standing over what was left of Zagnan.

"If I was a man, I'd piss on him," Xan snarled, as Xena moved to stand beside her. Xena nodded, half expecting her to do so, regardless. Xan settled on giving his remains a vicious kick and spitting on him before turning and walking away. Xena lingered a moment, surprising herself by picking up the lightning shaped blade and driving it viciously through Zagnan's heart. Or, at least, the spot where it would have been had he possessed one. It accomplished nothing, she supposed, but it felt remarkably satisfying.



Continued in Part 4



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