Rell stepped back after draping the last of her clothing over a low bush on the edge of the ravine. Aside from items like her cameras, film and a few other more delicate things which had been secured inside extra plastic bags, every article she had packed was saturated because of the leak in the bottom of the bag. Her backpack was constructed with an unimaginably tough material. It had to be, having traveled most of the way around the world over the years. If not for the pack’s sheer tensile strength, the tear might have ripped the entire bottom and Rell would have lost everything, including her life. Thankfully, the tear was so small that the air bubble had remained intact, keeping her afloat the day before.

Flapping her way back to the campsite, Rell stopped for a moment to roll the long legs of Diana’s spare jungle trousers a little higher.

"Damnation," she swore. "I feel like a kid sister all decked out in her big brother's clothes."

"Would you rather wander about naked all day? Not that the bugs would mind." Nor would I, she added silently. "Acres of skin to munch on - they'd love it," Diana replied, turning a little onto her uninjured side. "At least your boots were dry. I don't think mine would fit you no matter how much grass we stuffed inside them," she laughed, picturing Rell in the heavy boots. It was quite a comical image.

Flopping down on the sleeping bag next to Diana, Rell stirred breakfast heating in a small pot. "I still feel like someone's younger sibling," she grumped. She saw an unusual expression flash across Diana’s face before it disappeared behind ice-blue eyes. I'll risk it, Rell thought.

"What were you just thinking, Diana, when I mentioned younger siblings?" she asked gently. She remembered checking up on Diana in London, and coming across the obituary notice for Diana’s younger brother; there hadn’t been an indication of how he died.

"I was thinking about my little brother," Diana answered neutrally.

"Leon?" the reporter asked.

Diana merely nodded, her eyes fixed on the fire beside them.

"I read his death notice in the back issue of some paper when I was in London," Rell said. "I'm sorry," she offered. "He must have meant a lot to you." It was just a throwaway phrase that somehow seemed oddly appropriate.

The uncomfortable silence stretched out between the two women for several minutes. Rell occasionally leaned forward to stir the pot or to toss another branch onto the fire. Gathering her courage, determined to learn a little more about this attractive, mysterious woman, she decided to ask about this painful area of Diana’s past.

"I don't mean to pry..." Rell started to say.

"But you would like to know how it happened," Diana finished for her, a subtle bitterness sharpening her tone a little.

"You don't have to tell me about it. Really. I understand, Diana."

"No, you don't. You have no idea how hard it is to live with the fact a member of your family was killed because of your own stupidity," Diana snapped.

Rell's jaw sagged, unsure if anything could be said to such a statement.

The tension in Diana’s body abruptly vanished and she sagged back against the backrest Rell had put together for her.

"It was a long time ago, Rell. I should be used to it now, but I'm not," she said. A far away look filled Diana’s eyes, and she stared off into the jungle. It was like Rell was no longer there and the tall woman was speaking to herself. Rell had to strain her ears a little to hear the more quietly spoken words, but what she learned was fascinating, and she wanted to make sure to not miss a thing.

"I was barely out of my teens," Diana started. "Like a lot of young people, I was restless and wanted to see the world. I went searching for some excitement and found a lot more than I bargained for. I was in a little African village, Bukavu, on the border between Rwanda and the Congo. Civil war had broken out, which seemed to happen a lot there. I found myself taking sides, wanting to protect the villagers. They had welcomed me into their homes, and although we came from different cultures, I really did feel I was one of them. That village had become my second home in a way," Diana explained. She paused for several moments, remembering.

"My brother and I had always been very close. He missed me while I was away, so I wrote to him all the time, telling him everything I was doing, the places I was seeing, the people I was meeting. I didn't leave any details out. I'd only been in the village a few weeks, when Leon suddenly turned up out of the blue. I should have expected it, I suppose, but it was still a surprise. I loved having him there, sharing all my experiences, learning together. It was wonderful. But once that damned civil war broke out, there was nothing either of us could do but fight. I tried to convince Leon to leave; being white, he would have probably been allowed past the road blocks. But the rebels had closed off all access and there was no way to escape, even if we had wanted to. If he couldn't leave then I tried to get him to at least hide, but no, he was determined to stay right by my side. So, we found ourselves fighting a losing situation."

Rell sat completely silent, having learned more about Diana in the past five minutes than she had learned in the four weeks they had traveled together.

"I was such a cocky little snot back then. I'd spent years studying ancient Greek and Roman warfare as a hobby and, thought I knew how to run a battle. Even managed to convince the villagers I knew what I was doing. Boy, was I ever wrong," she said, shaking her head ruefully. "I was so wrong, it got my brother killed in the biggest fire-fight of the entire war. I'm not sure what happened. After the fight, I went searching for him and came across his body. He'd been trying to protect an old woman and got shot in the process. He'd bled to death."

"Oh god," Rell gasped. "I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have had to find him that way."

Diana’s eyes slowly turned to meet with the concerned blue-green of the reporter's. As though seeing Rell for the first time, the tall woman continued.

"Shit happens, Rell. After I found him, I lost it for a while. By the time I was myself again, the government troops had arrived. They got me and my brother's body out of the area and safely on the plane home again. Mother didn't stop crying for days. Eventually she asked me to leave because she couldn’t stand seeing me there all the time, reminding her of Leon’s death. Just before I walked out of the house for the last time, I realized his death was entirely my fault. I had to do something about that, to make up for it in some way. I never wanted to find myself in the same position again," she said.

Rell waited to see what Diana had decided to do. Sitting quietly beside the other woman, Rell's finely trained investigative mind was racing to piece together a myriad of small details, some appearing so unconnected they surely had no place in the whole. She had so many questions still unanswered, but there were enough vague details for her to draw a few tentative assumptions. Being a reporter most of her adult life, she was used to drawing conclusions from a few apparently unrelated facts and then working to prove or disprove her theories. It was her own special gift and one of the reasons she was so good at her job. Telling the story was only half of it for her. The real challenge, and the thing that keep her in the profession, was finding that story to start with.

In the mean time, Diana lay quietly on the sleeping bag with her eyes closed. She had said far more than she intended, but it felt good talk; the open wound of her brother's death had never healed. Even though her mother had asked what had happened in that little African village, Diana couldn't bring herself to admit her own mistake, her own stupidity at thinking she had all the answers to the villagers’ problems. It was another weight she carried on her broad, muscular shoulders. Having said as much as she had, Diana didn't really wish to say anymore. It would mean telling the little reporter about her darkest days and the decisions she had made back then. Rell had come to mean too much for Diana to allow that period of her life to become known. Diana was sure Rell would turn away, saying it was all too much. For some reason, she just couldn't stand the thought of that happening.

After nearly fifteen minutes of silence, Rell finally had to ask what Diana had decided after her brother's death. She'd reach her own conclusions but needed to hear the other woman's side of things. If her assumptions were correct, it wouldn’t change how she felt. It would simply make her aware that there was a dangerous side to Diana.

"What did you do afterwards, Diana? Where did you go?" she asked, the gentle tone in her voice unmistakable.

"I don't wish to talk about it anymore, Rell. Leave it be," Diana replied, flatly, rolling onto her side and starting to rise.

Suddenly tired of the evasions and half answers she had been getting for weeks, the reporter's patience finally snapped.

"No!" she shouted, grabbing hold of the other woman's wrist with one strong hand. Diana could have easily broken the grip, but the unexpected flash of temper surprised her into stillness. "You’ve been calling the shots since day one, controlling the situation. First you tell me I was hired to take photos of this trip. I damn near kill myself with heat exhaustion the first day, then I just about drown in a flash flood, which results in my almost freezing to death. And only after all that, you get around to telling me I’m here because of some bloody prophecy. I think it is about time you came clean with me and answered my questions. I deserve that much consideration," she snarled, her eyes ablaze with fury.

Looking into Rell's fiery eyes, Diana slumped back onto the sleeping bag. "I guess you do deserve the entire story," she said. "But I swear, I haven't lied to you for a minute."

Her temper not cooling in the least, Rell's eyes bored into the woman. "You haven't exactly been all that forthcoming with the truth either. So, tell me. Where did you go and what did you do after your brother died, and what does it have to do with this quest of yours?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diana sat quietly for a moment, her eyes locked on the fingers still wrapped, more gently now, around her wrist. "To try telling you all of it would take weeks," she admitted at last.

"Just give me the Reader's Digest™ version then, but I want the whole truth. No more evasions and half answers," Rell replied, still angry but slowly getting herself under control again. She hated losing her temper so completely like that, but sometimes even her patience had a limit.

"You wanted to know where I went afterwards?" she asked.

Rell nodded, still maintaining her grip on the other woman's arm. She had no intention of letting her go until she was satisfied she knew everything she wanted to know.

"I went to South Africa. There was a group there. Radical Afrikaners," she said slowly. "I wanted to be trained so I would never get into another fight without knowing what to do." Diana paused, fearful that what she had to say next would end the budding friendship between them, and any hope of a deeper relationship. "I trained to be a solider of fortune. A killer for hire," Diana finally whispered.

"A mercenary, in other words," Rell stated, blandly.

Diana nodded, not willing to raise her eyes and see the scorn on Rell's expression.

"Are you still doing it? Are you still a hired gun for someone else's army?" the reporter asked, her grip never leaving the other woman's wrist. In a way, the answer to this question was more important to Rell than knowing how Diana had come to be the way she was.

Shaking her head, she answered, "No. I stopped taking money for my skills after Hunk helped me see that what I was doing was wrong. I was probably ready to make the change anyway. He just gave me the chance to do it." Finally raising her head, steeling herself for what she knew was there, Diana continued, "Hunk was the very first person, in a very long time, to believe I could be anything other than the killer I had trained to be."

As her eyes finally connected with Rell's, Diana was almost shocked to see no scorn or repulsion there, only a gentle trust that her assessment of this woman was correct. She was suddenly left wondering what it was about this woman that made her so accepting of the darkness in Diana’s past. The sense of relief washing through the tall woman was almost enough to set her head spinning.

"How?" Rell asked, genuinely curious now.

It was a simple question Rell was asking but Diana had thought about it a great deal over the past three years and she didn't have a simple answer to give.

"I'm not really sure. I guess it was his entire attitude. When I demanded weapons, he brought them to me, never trying to take them from me afterwards. He never even carried weapons when he was around me. The villagers didn't look twice when I was strong enough to go outside for the first time, even though I was bristling with guns and knives. They weren't afraid of me at all. They accepted me because Hunk accepted me. I don't think it was quite as simple as I am making it sound but that is the best I can do. I was ready to change and he just made it easier for me to do it," she finally finished.

Rell nodded, thinking deeply for several minutes.

Diana fidgeted with the buttons on her shirt with her free hand, waiting to see what Rell's reaction would be. The tall woman drew some comfort from the way the reporter's fingers were still wrapped around her arm. The fact she had not immediately run screaming into the jungle with fear also helped calm the other woman. It still didn't take away her own deep sense of shame for all she had done since those early days of being trained in South Africa.

"I'd understand if you wanted to go back now. I'll escort you if you'll let me. Ex-mercenaries are not usually considered socially acceptable company," she said sadly.

Rell suddenly shook her head, as though returning from some far off place in her own mind. Looking the other woman in the eye, the reporter said calmly, "Not all mercenaries are bad people."

"All the ones I know are," Diana snorted, then looked down embarrassed.

"I've met quite a few. Tend to run across them in my line of work," the reporter said. "The first was quite a few years ago and he saved my life. I had gone to Libya to chase down a story about mercenaries hiring themselves out to Ghadafi's army. In the process I managed to get myself tossed into prison. The Libyan government never did like having us reporter types about. We ask too many questions. I fully expected to either be trapped in that prison for the rest of my life or to be executed as a spy at the earliest opportunity," she explained.

"What happened?" Diana asked, finding herself caught up in Rell's simple words as they related what must have been a terrifying experience. She placed her free hand over the still grasping fingers Rell had on her.

"A mercenary I had spoken with briefly when I was originally tracking down the story, talked his way into the prison and got me out. I'm not quite sure how he managed it, to be honest, but I spent a lot of time in the trunk of a car. I had expected he was going to lock me up someplace and ransom me off to the highest bidder. Either my own government, because they wouldn’t want one of their nationals to be a prisoner of some supposed rebel. Or the Libyan government, simply to make an example of me. You know, spy attempts to escape thus proving my guilt. The same old story we saw during the Vietnam crisis," Rell said.

"And who paid?"

"No one. Martin smuggled me out of the country and then let me go. He said I reminded him of his daughter. I ran across him several times after that just because he seemed to specialize in the Middle East and because I was there a lot. I knew I could trust him with my life. I already had, when you think about it, by letting him get me out of Libya. I was eventually able to repay the favor by clearing his name in a murder trial. He’d been framed and I had the pictures to prove it," Rell answered, a small, triumphant smile on her face. "Through him, I met several others who sold their skills to various groups. Under all the bluster and tall stories, many a good heart could be found beating. A lot were nothing more than simple family men trying to make a living the best way they knew how."

"Lucky them," Diana said, sarcastically.

Rell sat up a bit straighter and pinned the other woman to the spot with her blue-green eyes, once again blazing with a barely suppressed fury.

"You used to be a mercenary, Diana, but beneath that soul you thought was stained so dark, there was a good heart. If there hadn't been, you would have never changed and you can't tell me otherwise," she snapped. Making an effort to calm herself, wondering why she felt the need to defend Diana against her own bad opinion, she continued, "So, I have met a few mercenaries over the years and just because you used to be bad, you're not now. So, what have you been doing since Hunk showed you there was a little good left in you?"

"Same as I've been doing most of my life, only now I try to help people," she said simply, actually blushing at her admission. "Sometimes I fight. Sometimes I use a little of the family money. Sometimes I just hassle the right people in government to get the job done. Being seen as beautiful can be quite an asset in a country that likes that kind of thing. It's opened more doors for me, and helped more people than all the bullets I ever fired. I may not have a real home anymore, or even a real purpose in life, but what I have been doing is enough, barely, to fill the gap in me and perhaps, make up for the things I have done in the past."

"Okay, you were a mercenary. Now, you're not. How does all this tie in with your quest for this Xena person?" Rell asked.

Diana could feel herself relaxing. The reporter had accepted her past as though it was no big deal. She was sure it was bound to come up again, but for the moment it didn't appear to be of any real consequence to the other woman; her experiences with other mercenaries had been good ones. Perhaps it was true that what a person thought of another depended on what sort of things they had experienced in the past. Something to think about later, Diana thought.

Bringing herself back to Rell's question, Diana thought for a moment about how it had all started. "Remember how I told you Hunk took me back to Ilha de Maraca to recover from the heat stroke?" Rell nodded. "When I was strong enough to move about the village, I visited the local taverna and spent some time with the village lads. I hadn't yet been given the scroll, so listening to the stories they told helped pass the time. I certainly didn't take a lot of stock in the stories they were telling me, really. I honestly assumed they were just trying to impress a beautiful woman with tales of daring-do. You know how young men can be sometimes."

"Yea, I know the sort. They're the ones who sweat testosterone just walking down the stairs if they think a likely female prospect is going to watch," Rell laughed in reply.

The tall woman laughed lightly for a moment. "Sounds like a pretty accurate description. Anyway, they started telling me some old tales about demons or spirits in the jungle who came to a man in the night and stole his virility away. It was pretty scary stuff the way they were telling it. Guess they hoped I would be frightened enough to leap into their arms or something," Diana couldn't help smiling at the sheer idiocy of that idea.

"I've only been to places like Lima in Peru, but I vaguely remember being told something similar. The demons supposedly wore masks and were always dressed in black. I discounted it as just another story told to tourists in an effort get them to part with a few American dollars," Rell said.

"I pretty much ignored the story, too, and forgot all about it. After getting the scroll translated, I returned to Brazil. I traveled from Ilha de Maraca down to Macapa, to see where the Amazons were said to have landed all those years before. I was trying to track their route overland, but the highlands are so broad that it was impossible to do it from the Brazilian side - well, it was impossible for a lone person. I tried to hire some guides and that was when I smacked into the story of the night demons again," Diana explained.

"I tracked back along the coast from Ilha de Maraca to Quito in Ecuador. Every time I stopped to find guides for help up to the highlands, I heard that same story again. Everywhere I heard it, I couldn't get anyone to come into the jungle with me, no matter how much money I offered. I was also told several times that these night spirits were often heard saying something, but it wasn't until I reached Barranguilla in Colombia that I was able to get a translation," she continued.

"What were they saying?" Rell asked completely fascinated by now.

"They were saying, 'The spirit of Xena will rise one day, the storyteller by her side. This I do to ensure her fate. The Amazon Nation survives'," Diana recited straight from memory. She had heard the little poem so many times over the years that it was almost permanently engraved in her mind.

"And how does this connect to you?" Rell asked, trying to make some sense of all the information. From knowing virtually nothing about the dark-haired woman, she suddenly had too much. It was going to take her a few days to settle it all into some kind of coherent pattern.

"I'm not sure it does, but it would explain a few things," Diana replied.

"Like what, for example," Rell queried, not sure if she was ready to hear any more information; her brain was overflowing with impressions, information, ideas and questions.

"Like why I haven't given up this quest of mine," Diana said. "Others would have just let it go after finding themselves back at the rough camp a few times. I haven't. It's become almost an obsession to me now," the tall woman explained. "I've reached the point where I must know if there is a connection between me and this warrior woman. Now I can understand why Mel Pappas and Janice Covington spent the rest of their lives searching for the Xena Scrolls. For some reason, it gets under your skin and just won't leave you alone until you have the answers."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rell walked quietly through the thickening jungle, away from the river canyon where they were camped. She had a new walking stick in her hand and Diana’s panga knife looped over her shoulder. She’d managed to convince the pig-headed woman to rest for a while and give her broken rib a chance to stop aching quite so badly. Needing to be on her own for a bit herself, Rell had decided to take a walk through the forest and see if she could find any goodies to have with lunch. Anything to add a little taste to the trail rations and dehydrated food packets they had been eating for the past two weeks. Diana had simply told her to be careful before closing her eyes in reluctant sleep. The morning's revelations had taken more out of her than she was willing to admit.

Rell's mind turned over everything Diana had told her. She was also trying to make sense of her own far-too-calm reactions to some of the things the taller woman had said. Dropping down on a convenient rock, she started to talk to the jungle as though it could explain everything to her.

"She used to be a mercenary," Rell said to the trees and brilliant flowers surrounding her. "I'm not upset by that. I'm not even repulsed. I've met lots of mercenaries with good hearts and I think she’s just one of them. But why do I think like that. Diana made it clear she was trained by Afrikaners and they aren't known to be nice at the best of times."

Thinking back to everything she remembered over the past four weeks, there were dozens of little things that indicated Diana was not the nasty type she thought herself to be. Rell could only remember a couple of occasions when the other woman had snapped at her, but to date, she had not lost her temper at all. Not the way Rell had done a few times already. In fact, Diana was managing to remain remarkably well-tempered, even after the reporter had demanded the tall woman answer her questions.

Diana had also saved Rell from her fall out of the tree, dipped the reporter in the river when the heat had become too much, fixed the camera without a word, and coaxed Rell through the jungle to a cooling water-hole when she developed heat exhaustion. The memory of Diana’s fingers gently touching her own as she had related her experiences in Libya, and all the other times the woman had touched her, had not gone unnoticed. The taller woman had even gone to all that trouble after getting Rell out of the river.

"She could have just stuffed me into my sleeping bag and left me to warm up by the fire. That would have worked just as easily. I wonder why she felt the need to actually get in there with me?" she questioned.

A thousand images of the dark-haired woman filled her mind. She’d seen many of them through the viewfinder of her camera when Diana wasn't aware that the lens was pointed in her direction. Something in her intense ice blue eyes seemed to call to Rell every time she looked at them. The small touches, the little glances forever being tossed her way, the myriad of things, large and small, that Diana did to ensure that Rell was comfortable and safe. It all meant something, but the answer lay just beyond reach. What was she missing?

Then there was this quest Diana was on. The dark-haired woman had tried to make clear why she was so driven by it but, somehow seemed unable to express herself completely. It was as though something was calling to Diana, but Rell didn't know what.

"Well, there is certainly something in Diana calling to me," she muttered. "But what? I know I am attracted to her, but she’s celibate." She thought about that for a moment more. "At least, I'm pretty sure she is. But she seems awfully comfortable with herself, naked and all, for someone who has sworn off sex." Rell stared at the spiky grass between her booted feet. "Maybe I have been thinking about it all wrong. What if I start with the premise that she isn't celibate, but simply doesn't talk about her lovers the way most people do?"

Rell let the idea filter through her mind.

"Okay, if she isn’t celibate, does she like women? She never reacted when I kissed her, so maybe she doesn't." The reporter thought about that brief kiss for a minute or so. Suddenly, a tiny revelation popped to the surface. "I never gave her a chance to react because I surprised her."

"It still doesn't answer whether she’s celibate, whether she likes women, or if she even likes me, but it's about the best I am going to do without asking her outright," Rell said.

Feeling as though some weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Rell stood to continue her search for whatever the jungle might have to offer in the way of edibles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two pairs of eyes watched from behind a jumble of boulders piled haphazardly on top of an overhang at the back of the small plateau as a tall, dark-haired woman scrambled over the lip of the steep incline. She was closely followed by a shorter, red-blonde figure, obviously out of breath after the climb. Between the two was strung a length of rope, linking the two women together. In the sultry afternoon air, their voices carried easily to the hidden watchers.

"Shit, Diana. You could have warned me about that last section," the shorter woman grumped, quickly untying the rope looped about her waist. "Wow! That is some view," she exclaimed as she turned to face one side of the plateau, entirely forgetting her skinned knees and scraped hands.

"Thought you might like it, Rell," the taller of the pair replied, unobtrusively rubbing the strapping over her broken rib, hoping Rell wouldn’t notice. Scanning the clearing, Diana didn't see any sign of intruders in the rocky clearing since her last visit six months before. The little ring of stones she had used as a fire-pit was still on the far edge. The flat area where she’d laid out her sleeping bag, almost under the overhang, was still clear of encroaching vines or fallen rocks.

"You'll find a small pool over on the far side," she said, pointing to the edge of the plateau where water trickled down from the highlands above, creating a crystal clear pond perfect for drinking.

The watchful eyes followed as the shorter woman strode over to the tiny body of water, dipping her hand into the cooling liquid before taking a long drink. Above, shadowed brown eyes met with green. Indicating over one shoulder, the brown gave silent instructions before turning back to observe the two women moving about the little plateau. Green eyes took in the scene for several more seconds, then soundlessly crawled back from the hiding place, and headed off towards the village with a message for the priestess.

Wandering back from the pond, still admiring the panoramic view on three sides, Rell asked, "Just what do we burn up here, Diana? I noticed last night how cool it was and I doubt it has gotten any warmer half way up this mountain."

Looking up from the circle of stones just under the overhang, the tall woman pointed towards some of the vines and low shrubs growing tenaciously along the edge of the plateau. "Those," she answered. "They burn surprisingly well once you have them going." Slipping the panga knife from the sheath on her back, she held the handle towards the shorter woman.

"Hmm, I take it this is a hint for me to use that dangerous, blister-creating instrument to cut some of the vines for a fire tonight?" Rell said, a smile on her face.

"Looks that way," Diana replied, her attention already refocused on setting up the rest of the camp before nightfall. Clearing the last of the ashes from her old fire, she laid a bed of soft fuzz, collected from several of the seed pods growing nearby, and placed smaller twigs on top. By the time Rell had brought over the first of the larger branches and tough, woody vines, the tall woman had the beginnings of a merry blaze burning in her fire pit.

"Diana?" Rell queried quietly as she dropped her bundle to the ground next to the other woman.

"Ummm,"

"Do you ever get the feeling up here of being watched?" Rell asked, a little nervously.

"Now and then. Most of the time I just put it down to an overactive imagination. I’ve never seen any sign of other people up here, not in all the time I have been trying to get to the top. Besides, if there were others around, Hunk would know about them and tell me. I always make a point of stopping at his village just to check," Diana replied. Smiling up at the shorter woman standing beside her, she continued, "Seems Hunk has managed to make friends with just about everyone for miles; and they keep him pretty much up to date with all the comings and goings. Mostly, it’s just youngsters out for some adventure hiking through the Amazon jungle. No one ever comes this far. People think the terrain is too difficult to get across."

"An impression both you and Hunk do nothing to discourage, I’m sure," Rell commented wickedly, the laughter lighting up her blue-green eyes.

"Now, would I do such a thing?" the dark-haired woman asked in all seriousness, though the answering twinkle in her own summer blue eyes negated the weight of the question.

"Nope, couldn’t see you doing something like that, but I still can’t shake the feeling someone is watching us," Rell mumbled. Scanning the edge of the plateau, the reporter had to agree that if anyone was near, they would have been spotted long before reaching the plateau. Trying to ignore the sensation, Rell went back to collecting wood for the fire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Using the tin cup from which she normally drank her coffee, Rell poured water from the small pool over her head, luxuriating in the cool liquid rolling over her sweating skin. Although temperature on the plateau might drop dramatically at night, by day it was almost as hot as the sweltering jungle below. The only thing saving it from being completely insufferable was the constant light breeze. Having finally dissuaded herself of the feeling of being watched, Rell had decided to soak the heat from her body and wash away some of the accumulated grime.

Rubbing the soap over herself, building a generous lather, she marveled at the view once more. For hundreds of miles in every direction, there was nothing but the unbroken, undulating rooftop of the jungle. The stocky woman strained her eyes trying to spot some sign of civilization, a telephone pole, a road, or even a smudge of smoke on the horizon. She was subtly pleased when she saw nothing but jungle. Occasionally, a bird could be seen flying above, or some small monkey leaping gracefully from one high branch to another. The only sounds she could hear, other than her own, were the natural cries of the forest animals as they lived out their lives in the trees below. To the reporter’s appreciative eyes, it looked for all the world as though some god had tossed a beautiful, unending blanket over the ground, colored every shade of green Rell could imagine. It came right to the edge of the mountain, nestling around its base like small chicks surrounding some ponderous mother hen.

"Some view, eh," Diana said, coming up next to the reporter. "No matter how many times I see this, I never tire of it. Reminds me just how insignificant we really are in the grand scheme of things."

Rell chuckled briefly. "I used to get the same feeling whenever I looked out over the open desert," she replied. "Not that I need reminding of how little my presence really means. I sometimes think if I were to drop off the face of the earth, no one would even notice."

"I’d notice," the taller woman mumbled quietly. Before Rell had a chance to react to the almost wistful tone, Diana continued, "Want someone to wash your back?"

"I think I can be persuaded," the shorter woman replied, turning her back towards Diana after handing her the soap. "There is always that one spot right in the middle I can never seem to reach and it just about drives me nuts when the sweat starts to make it itch under my pack."

"Well, I can’t have you going insane out here, too far away from the nearest straight-jacket," Diana commented lightly as she began to gently wash the soap over Rell’s back.

With one hand on the reporter’s shoulder to steady her, the ex-mercenary could feel Rell slowly relaxing into her ministrations. Rell’s back muscles, tight after a day of climbing and carrying the heavy back pack, quickly unknotted under Diana’s fingers. The shorter woman was left almost limp with relief. Dropping the soap on the side of the pool to free both hands, Diana began massaging her way across Rell’s shoulders and down her back. She carefully felt for each knot along the reporter’s spine, pushing and rolling the flesh until the muscular tension faded away. Once the last of the knots had given way to Diana’s talented fingers, she simply enjoyed the sensation of smoothing her hands over the other woman’s slick back and shoulders, feeling the soft sighs of satisfaction Rell was making.

"Oh god, Diana. I haven’t felt this relaxed since my last girlfri…" Rell suddenly stopped herself, hoping the tall woman didn’t catch her reference to having had a woman lover. She tensed, waiting for the rhythm of Diana’s hands to cease their gentle journey along her back, soothing away the tension, easing the taut muscles. It wasn’t that the reporter was ashamed of having slept with women; she simply didn’t want to have to explain it while standing naked on the edge of a plateau, with the other woman’s hands stroking her body so sensually.

"Don’t you tighten up on me now," Diana muttered, appearing not to have noticed Rell’s comment, nor the clipped sentence.

The reporter made a conscious effort to relax herself again and let her mind drift back into the sensual daydream she had been enjoying before she’d opened mouth without thinking. Rell quickly found herself floating off into a peaceful haze, with the slow push and pull of the tall woman’s hands against her skin.

Diana had heard Rell’s comment, but was so disciplined with her reactions that her hands never missed a beat. She wasn’t the least bit surprised to find that the other woman had taken a female lover. Being a reporter on the road most of the year probably made the opportunities for pleasurable meetings a little hard to find at times, especially in countries that frowned on women having sex outside of marriage. It seemed more sensible to enjoy an evening with someone of your own gender to avoid trouble. However, whether this was before, or after Rell’s marriage was something Diana didn’t know. The tall woman assumed it was probably well before, because Rell appeared to have enjoyed Peter’s company, even if she didn’t truly love the man.

For the moment though, Diana was more than content to allow herself the unusual freedom to gently touch Rell intimately. There was such a naturalness about the way she was massaging the naked woman in front of her, Diana soon found herself forgetting her own concerns about the rest of the trip. Her awareness narrowed to the feeling of Rell’s soft skin under her slowly moving hands, and the sensation of the other woman’s easy breathing.

Moving her hands higher, Diana began to smooth her fingers over the muscles on Rell’s neck, easing over her shoulders to her collarbone, loosening the tension she found there. Stepping closer to the shorter woman, Diana encouraged a surprisingly willing Rell to lean back against her greater strength, not minding the feeling of soap and water soaking through her jungle shirt.

Surrounded by the extensive view of the endless jungle and cooled by the breezes blowing over the rocky clearing, Diana lost herself in the sensation of following the line of Rell’s well-toned muscles. Eyes closed, the tall woman focused her hands and mind on chasing down every shred of tension she could find, and gently massaging it away. She swept her hands down the front of Rell’s chest, suddenly realizing she was cupping her soapy palms under the other woman’s breasts, brushing taut nipples with her thumbs.

Snapping back into reality, Diana snatched her hands away from Rell’s body as though they had been scalded, barely giving the reporter a chance to regain her balance again as the taller woman jumped back.

Embarrassed, she spun away quickly, mumbling, "I’m sorry, Rell." Avoiding the reporter’s eye completely, Diana hurried back to the overhang and dropped down on her sleeping bag, her back facing the other woman. The photojournalist was left standing on the edge of the plateau, perplexed and frustrated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rell tried to catch Diana’s eye for about the hundredth time that night, but the tall woman was avoiding her glance completely. All evening Diana had been responding in mono-syllables to Rell’s questions, barely raising her eyes from her plate over dinner. It was clear the former mercenary felt she had stepped over some arbitrary, self-imposed boundary, and now hoped that if she ignored it for long enough, Rell would forget what had happened. Rell thought that if Diana stopped to think about it, she would realize that Rell had been enjoying and encouraging the intimate caress by willingly leaning back against Diana’s strong length.

Finally reaching the end of her patience with the game of eyeball dodge, Rell snapped at the taller woman, "Will you look at me, for Pete’s sake!"

Diana’s head reluctantly lifted until she met Rell’s eyes. The look of self-castigation was so blatant on the tall woman’s face, Rell found her anger evaporating immediately, replaced by an almost overwhelming need to see the beautiful woman smile again.

"Have I suddenly sprouted horns or something?" she asked, flapping the backs of her hands against her forehead imitating a particularly bizarre set of horns. "Oh, I know. I have this whopping great pimple on the end of my nose and you just can’t bring yourself to tell me it’s there," Rell continued, holding her fist in front of her nose. "It’s something even worse? I knew it. I just knew it was going to happen. I’ve caught some awful jungle disease and I’m breaking out in these really huge purples spots all over my face." Rell began to wipe her fingers over her cheeks, trying to remove the imaginary blemishes from her skin.

Diana was so taken back by the comical sight of Rell wiping her face and then minutely examining her palms in the hope of actually seeing the spots, she couldn’t keep the laughter inside. The tall woman’s face reddened with the effort as she compressed her lips tightly, pressing her tongue against the roof of her mouth hopelessly. Within moments, she was rolling about helplessly on the sleeping bag. Every time she looked up at the reporter, she broke out laughing all over again, until tears streamed down her cheeks.

Rell quickly dropped to one knee, steadying the laughing woman by the shoulders. "Hey, rolling about with a broken rib is not the best thing for the healing process," she said, the concern echoing loudly her voice.

Clutching at her aching rib, Diana wiped the tears off her cheeks, regaining control of herself. "I’m sorry about that, Rell, but you just looked so funny swiping away at those damned non-existent spots."

"Hmmm, maybe you should get out more if you think my pitiful attempts at humor are funny," Rell stated. Settling down in front of the other woman, one hand gently grasping Diana’s thigh, the reporter was finally able to look her taller companion in the eye. "So, you going to tell me why you suddenly decided I wasn’t worth looking at anymore? It really doesn’t do much for a girl’s ego, you know."

Diana immediately sobered, dropping her head again. "This afternoon," she mumbled in reply, hoping it was all the explanation Rell needed.

Gentle fingers slid under the dark-haired woman’s chin, lifting it until Diana had no choice but to look at Rell sitting in front of her. "You didn’t do anything wrong this afternoon, Diana. I was enjoying it," Rell declared clearly.

"But I shouldn’t have been doing it. I mean, you must be…and there was Peter…" Diana trailed off, her head dropping once more.

Rell snorted, bringing the other woman’s head up again in surprise. "Yes, there was Peter, but what do you think I did before he came along? What about afterwards? Oh god, especially afterwards," she asked, one hand waving over her head in a frustrated gesture. "A woman isn’t made of stone, after all. I took my pleasures where I could and with whoever was willing," she explained simply. "You know how hard life on the road can be for a woman. Every man you meet wants to take care of you in some way. It’s just easier sometimes to be with another woman."

"Well, you mentioned…but I just assumed…" Diana started to say, realizing Rell was echoing some of her thoughts of earlier in the day.

"Well, you assumed wrong," Rell cut in gently. "I’m more interested in what’s inside a person’s heart and mind than in his or her gender. I thought that much would be clear by now." A delighted smile suddenly lit up the reporter’s eyes. "Judging from the way your hands know their way around a female body, I think some of your preferences have been made pretty obvious too."

Diana blushed but didn’t drop her head again. "I guess I was like you in some ways, taking my pleasure where I could. You’re right about the road being a hard place for a woman, even for one who is a mercenary. I didn’t like to sleep with the men in my armies; it just caused problems later on," she said.

Rell nodded in understanding. "Well, you’re not a mercenary anymore, and I am certainly not part of your army." Snuggling closer, until she was all but sitting in Diana’s lap, Rell continued, "I’m willing, and I think, I hope, you are too," she offered, tilting her head to one side, parting her lips slightly in silent invitation, still leaving the other woman enough room to back off if she wanted to.

It was an invitation Diana couldn’t resist, though she did hesitate for a moment. "Are you sure?" she asked, moving close enough that Rell could almost taste the subtle scent of the dark-haired woman’s breath.

"I’m sure. Just kiss me, please."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first gentle, almost uncertain kiss they shared seemed to suspend the passing of time. Neither woman wanted to just take her pleasure, as with others in the past. Both concentrated on offering up as much of themselves as possible through the tenuous contact of their lips, finding unexpected rewards in the simple act of giving. The sounds of their mingled breathing, the crackling fire next to them, and the cries of the forest creatures combined to create a music more moving than any orchestra. The powerful beating of two hearts in unison underscored the symphony, drawing the women closer, reaching through the physical contact to touch each other’s soul.

Deep within each woman, a spark suddenly ignited, potent and forceful. Spinning out a single golden thread, the brightness of a searching life-force sought out its matching half, finding it nestled, waiting patiently, in the mind of the other. The two sparks danced together in glorious, dizzying circles, faster and faster, becoming a blinding column of golden light before bursting into one all-consuming flame. Two souls, separated by centuries of time and distance, reaffirmed the unbreakable bond between them, renewing the promise of a life together, forever.

As the women broke apart, they were gasping from the sheer energy released with one simple kiss. Rell looked into Diana’s startling blue eyes, feeling as though she somehow recognized the person from elsewhere. Diana stared into the blue-green of her companion, vibrating with the knowledge that she must have known Rell her entire life, but had somehow managed to forget her existence.

Not understanding the feeling, but delighting in it, Diana reached up, almost shyly, to unbutton Rell’s heavy jungle shirt. She took her time with each button, giving the other woman every opportunity to protest. Rell merely inclined her head to one side, offering the sweep of her neck to the erotic touch of the Diana’s lips. She shuddered with pleasure as teeth and lips began to nip and suck their way along the tender flesh seeking the most sensitive places. The nearly soundless sighs coming from the shorter woman encouraged Diana to move her lips higher looking for even more receptive spots around Rell’s ear. Biting down lightly on a proffered lobe, Diana heard the other woman gasp.

Finally undoing the last button, Diana opened the reporter’s shirt as though she was unveiling some priceless treasure. She hesitated for several moments, not wanting to mar the perfect beauty of Rell’s lightly tanned breasts with her own undeserving mouth. An insistent hand on the back of her head encouraged her to lower her lips, brushing over the soft flesh. Nestled between the other woman’s breasts, Diana breathed in deeply, soaking up all the subtle odors which would forever identify Rell. Lifting her head again, not wishing to hurry this moment, she waited to see how Rell would respond.

The warmth of Diana’s breathing sharpened Rell’s nerve endings until her skin tingled. Rell’s own hands gently came to rest just below the collar of the taller woman’s shirt. Feeling for the buttons with her fingers, Rell pushed them through the holes, opening Diana’s shirt to the still night air. Only when she had all the buttons undone did she open her eyes to gaze down in wonder at the unrivaled elegance of Diana’s breasts. Almost tiny for a woman so tall, they stood high against her chest, a pair of proudly matched twins. Sweeping her fingers over the nearly unblemished flesh, she came across a small scar on the inner side of a breast. Stopping briefly, she lowered her head to kiss the spot. She felt the other woman’s head fall back slowly, eyes closing in almost feline pleasure.

Lifting her head again, Rell said, "If you promise to lie still, we might be able to take that strapping off you for a while. I don’t think it is very romantic to taste bandaging in my mouth but I don’t want you hurting yourself either."

Snapping out her sensual haze, Diana shook her head for a moment, clearing it enough to answer the other woman. "I can’t promise anything like that," she started, a wicked grin appearing out of nowhere. "But I’ll do my best," the tall woman continued, reaching for the knife in her boot.

Between the two of them, they managed to remove the sticky dressing without hurting Diana too much. Quite the contrary. The sharp pulling of the adhesive against her skin sensitized the flesh until it almost sang with every subtle movement of her body. Diana shivered lightly, feeling the fire pouring along her nerve endings, igniting passions held in check far too long.

Having found the impetus to move apart for a few moments, the women undressed hurriedly, tossing clothing and boots to the four winds. Falling back into each other’s arms as though they had been separated for a lifetime, they continued the slow, gentle exploration of bodies that felt familiar in some way, yet were so new at the same time. The fire burned down to softly-glowing embers, as each re-acquainted herself with the other. Somehow, both seemed to know instinctively what the other liked and how she would react.

Murmuring quietly, Diana eased Rell into a kneeling position over her prone body, hands on either side of her broad shoulders holding the reporter’s weight. Spreading her knees widely and supporting herself on her elbows, allowed Rell to lie full length along the taller woman’s long frame without putting any pressure on Diana’s still healing rib. It also put her at something of a disadvantage because Diana’s hands were free to roam, while hers were occupied keeping her weight off the woman.

"Not fair," Rell gasped, as Diana’s fingers brushed over an erect nipple.

"You were the one who made me promise to lie still, so I guess you get to live with that now," Diana replied wickedly, trying to see just how far her long arms could reach. Sweeping her hands along Rell’s back, feeling the other woman arching subtly, Diana cupped the reporter’s tightly rounded buttocks before pulling gently, closing the gap between their bodies.

Rell found the position brazenly sexual, wanton even. It excited her, feeling so blatantly open. The touch of the night air brushed over her heated center, cooling and inflaming at the same time. The petals at her core unfurled, allowing Rell to feel the first rush of her passions as they poured from her overflowing well-spring. Her hips picked up the rhythm of the gentle throbbing at her point of power, moving gently against softness of the woman beneath her. Dropping her head, she tried to distract herself by kissing Diana, giving herself over to the sensual touch of the tall woman’s hands on her lightly sweating skin.

Lips joined again in another searing kiss, and Diana’s hands brushed over the other woman’s outstretched body. The touch was light, undemanding, yet Rell’s response was incredibly powerful. The tall woman could already feel the rhythmic thrusting of her lover’s hips against her own mound. Tilting her hips slightly to offer a better angle, Diana grasped Rell’s buttocks to help support her.

Unable to hold the kiss any longer, the shorter woman buried her face deep in Diana’s neck, clutching at her shoulders with incredible strength. "Oh god. Oh god. Oh god," Rell muttered through gritted teeth as her thrusts grew more insistent, more frenzied as her peak rapidly approached.

Diana reached around with one long arm, her fingers seeking the entrance of Rell’s opening. She met with no resistance at all as her fingers slipped completely into the deep pool at the reporter’s center. Hot, velvet walls pulsed around Diana’s fingers, which somehow kept time with Rell’s wild thrusting. The pressure of the other woman against her own pinnacle was exciting, and Diana passed the point where she could concentrate solely on Rell. She opened her legs slightly to increase the friction. Fighting with herself to remain still, she soon caught the same wave Rell was riding.

Aware of what the taller woman was doing under her, Rell slowed the power of her thrusts, allowing Diana to match her pace. She could feel long fingers stroking her inner walls, exploding a different set of sensations through her trembling body, and further fanning the flames of her passion. Unable to hold herself back any longer, Rell’s hips picked up speed again, bringing her closer to the edge, while driving Diana towards the peak as well.

With muscles tightening like over-wound watch springs, and guttural groaning coming from both women, Diana managed to plunge the full length of her fingers into Rell’s willing opening one last time. It was too much for the woman above her; overloaded with sensations, the soaring wave grabbed the reporter and flung her mind into oblivion as her body spasmed violently. The instant the velvet walls snapped closed on Diana’s fingers, her own release ripped through her, shattering her awareness for several moments. Their cries of pleasure echoed off the walls and ceiling of the overhang, bouncing back and forth until they were lost over the green blanket of the jungle, startling the animals of the forest into wary silence.

High above the two women, well back from the edge of the overhang, a pair of tired brown eyes closed for a moment in satisfaction before turning towards the village hidden in the center of the ancient volcano. The owner of those eyes hoped the old prophecy of the Amazons would now be fulfilled, if the strangers truly were the chosen of Artemis.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Latona stepped quietly into the darkened temple, grateful for the few candles still burning in their sconces. She took a moment to kneel briefly before the altar, the fingers of one hand resting on the carved stone handle of Artemis’s bow, which stood out in bold relief on the front of the shrine. Rising, the middle-aged scout averted her eyes away from the weapons waiting on the polished stone slab, a little nervous of the power they were said to contain.

She hesitated entering Ardeen’s meditation chamber so late, but the priestess’ request, really an order, was for the scouts from the plateau to report directly to her about anything they saw or heard. One message had already been sent back informing the old priestess of the arrival of two outsiders in the rocky clearing. Now Latona was here to make her own report. The green-eyed guard, Scylla, had replaced her on the overhang.

Ardeen solved Latona’s quandary by appearing unexpectedly at the doorway of the chamber. Watching the crone shuffling painfully across the marble floor towards her, the scout thought to herself, The Old One has been spending too much time in deep meditation lately. I wonder if any of us can convince her to use the hot pools for a time? It would certainly ease some of the aches from her bones. Stepping forward, Latona met the old woman halfway across the large room.

"Well met, Latona," Ardeen greeted.

"And to you, Old One," the scout replied respectfully, bowing her head.

Accepting the homage due her age, Ardeen drew the younger scout with her to one of the benches surrounding the temple walls. Settling herself as comfortably on the hard marble as her old bones would allow, she waited until Latona was seated before speaking.

"So, you have something of interest to report?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with intelligence and wisdom.

"I do not know if these are the ones you seek, Old One, but even I could see the powerful bonding between them. Though, it was clear the bond was unknown to them before tonight," she finished, blushing at the memory of what she’d heard from her hiding place. It was the last thing she’d expected to hear that night. The first joining was supposed to be a private and intimate time, usually spent apart from everyone else so the connection would grow strong between the pairing. Being forced to listen as the two women had merged their bodies and minds as one, caused the middle-aged scout no small amount of embarrassment. Regardless, it was not the first time she had been a silent witness to other, less private couplings.

The old priestess gently clasped the hand of the plateau scout, sympathetic to her embarrassment but equally eager to know what she had seen and heard. Once the flame had died away from the scout’s face, the priestess asked, "So, tell me. One is tall and dark, the other shorter and light?"

Latona snorted briefly. "Are you sure you did not simply ride the wind and see this for yourself?" she replied.

Ardeen smiled back at the scout, urging her to continue. Between her dreams and her Other Senses, the old woman knew all she could about the two outsiders on the plateau without meeting them face to face. The reports from the scouts served merely to confirm what she already knew in her heart.

"Yes, Old One. They are as you describe. The dark one wore a long knife of some kind strapped across her back, and the other one carried a makeshift staff, though I doubt she knew how to use it properly. She appears to think it is little more than a walking stick." Latona snorted at the idea of carrying a weapon and not knowing how to use it. That was surely asking for trouble. "From what I could hear, the dark one is the leader but the light-haired one takes control when hearts demand to speak," she continued.

Nodding, Ardeen offered, "Together, they are a balance of body and heart. It strengthens them in ways we do not understand. Strength enough, perhaps, that they have found each other again. Alone, each would be formidable in her own way, but together there is nothing on this plane, or the next, that can stop them for long."

"Do you think they are the ones spoken of in the prophecy?" Latona asked. Rumors had been buzzing around the village for days when it became known Ardeen had seen the chosen ones in a vision dream. The rumors had intensified as the old woman had spent more and more time in deep meditation, tracking the outsiders with her Other Senses. The sheer number of women, from the oldest warrior to the youngest trainee, suddenly volunteering for sentry duty on the plateau had so overwhelmed Latona, she’d been forced to take the post herself to prevent any resentments from developing.

The old priestess thought for several moments before answering. When she had spoken with the Amazon leader a few days before, she was completely certain about who the outsiders were. With Latona however, she did not want to give any sense of false hope until Artemis had made it clear to everyone in the village that these two women truly were her chosen. Deciding on the middle ground, the old woman answered, "It is yet to be seen, Latona. First they must pass the portal and then hear the call of their destinies. If they pass those two hurdles, then we must test them ourselves as demanded by Artemis." Looking up at the exhausted woman beside her, Ardeen said compassionately, "It’s late and I am sure your bedchamber is calling to you, even from here."

Rubbing at tired eyes, Latona nodded. She had been on the plateau for days waiting and watching for the outsiders to arrive, once Ardeen had seen them in her vision dream. It would be a gift to sleep on her own pallet again, her lover curled protectively against her back. "Until they pass the portal, Old One, none shall hear anything from my lips," the scout promised, rising to her feet.

"Until the morn, then," the priestess said in reply as the other woman slowly left the marble chamber of the temple. In the mean time, I have much to do, she thought. And my first duty is to let Meropa know we might be having guests in the village for the first time in Artemis knows how long.

Climbing painfully upright once more, the old priestess headed for the leader’s hut as fast as her aching old bones would allow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rell woke abruptly, shortly before sunrise, feeling herself sprawled in a very peculiar position. Her legs were spread widely over something firm yet giving, while her upper torso was tilted oddly to one side. The moment she connected the strange arrangement of her body with how she had gotten there, Rell opened her eyes to see Diana’s azure depths looking back at her.

Diana smiled at the other woman hesitantly, apprehensive Rell might somehow regret what had happened between them the night before. It was not like mercenaries, ex or otherwise, were seen as preferred partners by most people, especially one with a past as dark as hers. Whatever fears and concerns she might have had were quickly wiped from her mind by the reporter’s enthusiastic morning kiss. What followed afterwards soon laid her doubts to rest forever.

Sometime later, as both women relaxed in the molten afterglow of their love-making, they watched the first rays of the sun rising over the edge of the forest, painting everything with its golden brilliance. Delighting in each other’s quiet company, they watched a Harpy Eagle* turning majestically in wide circles on the first updrafts of the day as the sun rose higher. Rell stirred briefly, turning her head away from the light now shining directly into her eyes. Noticing something unusual, she sat up suddenly.

"Diana, what’s that?" she asked, pointing to what had been an unremarkable shadowed corner under the overhang the afternoon before.

Supporting her unstrapped broken rib with one protective hand, Diana sat up to look in the direction Rell was indicating. Deep in the corner, there was a subtle silver glow she couldn’t explain, obvious only because of the inky darkness of the shadows. Rising gingerly to her feet, she went over to investigate.

"I don’t know, Rell," she said. "It’s not like I have ever been here in the mornings to see anything like this," Diana continued, shrugging her shoulders ruefully, reminding the reporter that the other woman usually woke back in the rough clearing, with no memory of how she’d gotten there.

Gritting her teeth against the ache in her rib, Diana squatted down to look under the small shelf she discovered in the corner. What she found was a blank wall, with thousands of minute crystals in the stone, scattering and reflecting a beam of sunlight from somewhere higher up. Opposite the faintly-lit wall was a narrow opening in the rock, filled with silver light coming from some unknown source further back. The light from the opening couldn’t be seen from where they had been lying, and the wall was only noticeable due to the darkness of the shadows surrounding it. If Rell had not looked over when she did, it could have easily been missed once the full light of the sun had reached the plateau. Poking her head into the fissure, the ex-mercenary tried to see what lay beyond the opening.

"Looks like there is some kind of a tunnel back there, Rell. I can’t see the end of it, though. Seems to turn a corner several yards further along," Diana said, as she withdrew her head and turned towards the other woman waiting expectantly on the rumpled sleeping bags.

"No, wait. It couldn’t be. That would just be too easy," the reporter replied, cryptically. Hurrying to the taller woman’s backpack, Rell pawed through the side pocket where Diana kept the sheet of paper with the prophecy she had shown the other woman a few days before. Finding it, she went over to Diana, reading the paper as she walked.

Standing next to the still kneeling woman, she recited, "To the Eastern sky, On a Western wall, A place of birth is found." Sinking to her knees, Rell looked at the wall reflecting the sunlight and then the fissure opposite. "That wall faces to the west and if it wasn’t there, the opening would be towards the eastern sky. Guess you might call that a place of birth, Diana. It sure looks like, well…" she trailed off, a little embarrassed.

"Remarkable resemblance, don’t you think," Diana said wickedly, one hand reaching out to almost touch what would be a woman's pinnacle in real life.

Rell lightly slapped at Diana’s hand before it could touch the outcropping of rock. "Don’t be naughty," she said, her eyes sparkling with merriment.

The taller woman grunted. "That’s not what you said to me this morning," she replied, a completely incorrigible tone in her voice. "In fact, I believe your exact words were…"

"…of no consequence right now," the reporter finished for the other woman, her face shading towards a bright pink. "Let’s get dressed and see where that tunnel goes. The prophecy says that one alone can’t find the way, but there are two of us now, so we should be able to get to the other end without too many problems."

"It also says we have to be joined at heart and soul," Diana said, a little tensely.

"Do you have any doubts left after this morning?" Rell replied, her eyebrows rising in mock surprise. "Guess I just need to do a better job next time."

"Just checking," the taller woman offered, climbing to her feet, pulling the reporter with her as she rose. "If we’re going to be wriggling through some tunnel, I’d better get this rib strapped again."

"Oh goody. Another chance to get my hands on you. I think I like the sound of this," Rell giggled as they walked back to the dying embers of their fire.

Diana just rolled her eyes skyward, mumbling about unleashing a monster the night before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I doubt we’re going to be able to get the packs through that tunnel," Diana observed after looking at the narrow opening and then at their packs.

"Damn. I don’t like the idea of leaving them behind. What if we need something in one of them?" Rell replied, tucking the camera she usually carried around her neck into the plastic bag inside her own backpack. Examining the opening herself, she saw just how truly narrow it was. "It’s going to be a pretty tight squeeze, even for us. Do we have any other choices?" she asked.

"Not from the looks of it," the taller woman replied, already hiding her pack deep into the corner to protect it from possible inclement weather.

"What if we tried going over this ceiling of rock," Rell queried, pointing to the overhang above their heads. "Isn’t that what you planned in the first place?"

"You like the idea of hanging off some rope while I pull you up, broken rib and all?" Diana asked, frowning slightly, having seen Rell’s terrified reactions to their steep climbs yesterday. The taller woman had been forced to rope Rell to her waist before scrambling up the last couple of sections of the mountain. "Even then, there is no guarantee we could get to the top. It’s almost a sheer cliff above this overhang."

Paling, Rell answered, "Guess it has to be the tunnel, then." Nestling her pack and walking stick next to Diana’s, Rell watched the taller woman slide a torch into her trouser pocket; it was one of the few things they could take with them through the narrow tunnel.

Ducking down, Diana wriggled through the tight opening, shifting her wide shoulders sideways to get past the narrow entrance. Once her feet had disappeared into the passage, Rell followed behind. She didn’t much like the enclosing walls surrounding her, but she liked the idea of steep cliffs even less. She quickly found the squeeze wasn’t quite as confining for her as she knew it would be for the woman ahead of her. Those broad shoulders might cause Diana a problem if the passageway gets any smaller, she thought pulling herself along on her elbows behind the other woman.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The light the women had seen shining from the tunnel entrance had long ago faded into blackness as they crawled along the passageway; its source was still a complete mystery. Huddled together where the tunnel widened for a few yards, they shared a thirst-quenching drink from Rell’s canteen, using a little of the water to wipe over their scraped and raw skin. Their hands, elbows, hips and knees were being scoured bloody by the tiny, sharp crystals imbedded in the rock. Their heavy jungle clothing offered little protection, as the material over the bony parts of their bodies had quickly tattered.

Diana found herself in a worse position because of the tight walls rubbing her shoulders and back.. Almost from the moment they had entered, she had been forced to toss her panga knife in its sheath ahead of her every few yards because there wasn’t enough room to wear it strapped to her back. Rell was having a slightly easier time of it due to her lighter build, although she was just as bruised and sore as the taller woman.

"You all right, Rell?" Diana asked, seeing the expression of the other woman’s face by the light of her torch.

Looking at the palms of her grazed hands again, Rell replied, "Forget what I said about this being too easy to find…that was probably the simple part. Getting through it might be a lot harder. I’m starting to wonder how much further this tunnel runs. At this rate, I’ll be scraped down to the bone soon."

"Can’t be too much longer," the dark-haired woman said, directing the torch down the passageway. Crystal points along the walls glittered in the light but the beam was soon lost in the far distance. "We’ve been crawling for about two hours. You want to be up front for a while? It must be pretty dark back there with my body blocking most of the light."

Rell smiled gratefully at the other woman. Even though she could hear Diana ahead of her, she was still being assailed by all the age-old fears of the dark. Her biggest fear was that the tunnel would suddenly collapse around them, trapping them forever. No matter how she tried to talk herself out it, every unidentified sound made her jump, convinced the walls were about to cave in. Reaching out and occasionally making contact with the other woman’s boot was the only thing keeping Rell from losing her grip completely.

"And I thought I was too old to be scared of the dark," Rell commented, a little annoyed with herself.

The tall woman smiled in sympathy. "Hey, when I can’t see beyond the circle of light, even I get a little nervous and start imagining things that might be out there; being cramped inside this tunnel isn’t helping," she replied.

Rell looked at Diana, not believing her for a moment, but she was more than happy to be up front for a while so she could actually see where they were going for a change. Taking the offered torch, she began to move ahead of the other woman, wriggling painfully along the tunnel and its sharp stoned walls.

After crawling for what felt like an eternity, Rell found herself in front of a particularly confined section in the tunnel. Shining the light ahead of her, it didn’t appear to be all that long, but judging the gap with her eye, she figured it was going to be an extremely close squeeze even for her slighter body, let alone Diana’s broad shoulders. As if compensating her for the constricted section, the tunnel opened out considerably on the other side, some ten feet further along.

Lifting her body a little and speaking under her arm, Rell said, "This next bit seems pretty narrow, Diana. Looks like it opens out on the other side, though. Let me get through it and see if I can turn around. I don’t want you stuck behind me with nobody to help."

"I wouldn’t want to be stuck either, Rell. I’ll wait for you to wriggle through."

Struggling into the confined space, Rell braced her toes against the rough bottom of the tunnel, edging forward a few inches at a time. Shit, she thought. I’ve seen cattle crushes that had more space than this. Pushing first one shoulder and then the other against the walls, she managed to worm her way through the passage until she could grab the lip of the tunnel on the other side. It was several minutes of sweaty and heart-stopping work for Rell, terrified she was going to be caught herself at any moment. Finally popping out the other side like a cork from a bottle, she gratefully fell to the floor of the tunnel, sucking air back into her cramped lungs.

Scrambling around, she peered back along the section she had just traversed. Kneeling at the mouth of the passage, she called to the waiting woman, "It’s almost wide enough to stand up over here. Just let me shine the torch down the tunnel so you can see where you’re going." In the beam of light, Diana’s dirty and sweat-streaked face blinked back at her through the darkness.

Tossing her sheathed knife ahead of her, Diana squeezed herself into the narrow confines of the passage, using her toes to push her body forward. Grunting with the effort, she walked her wide shoulders along the walls as Rell had done, gaining a bare inch or so with each exhausting movement.

Halfway along, her body suddenly jammed tightly in the constricted space. Unable to move forward, Diana tried to back up a little, hoping to twist her body around into a better position. The heavy jungle clothing she wore rode up her long length, snagged on the thousands of tiny crystals covering the walls of the tunnel, until she was no more able to wriggle backwards as she had been able to move forward. Panting and incapable of drawing a deep breath, she called to an anxious Rell.

"Looks like I’m good and stuck here, Rell," she said, fighting with herself not to panic.

The other woman relieved some tension by swearing creatively, and at some length before making a conscious effort to deal with the situation. "Can you move at all?" the reporter asked. Rell listened as Diana struggled to find some way of either struggling forward or edging back again.

"Not from the feel of it," she finally admitted. "There just isn’t anything I can get a really solid grip on to use as leverage."

"If I wedge my shoulders tight against the walls, could you use me to push yourself back again?" the reporter queried, after thinking for a few moments.

"Maybe. It’s certainly worth a try. Anything has to be better than just lying here waiting to get skinny enough to slip through," the stuck woman joked.

"Great, hairy, horny toads, jammed inside this crazy pipeline and she starts cracking jokes," the shorter woman muttered to herself as she wormed her way back into the passageway, wedging her shoulders firmly in contact with the walls when she was close enough. Bracing her feet as best she could near the lip, Rell concentrated on giving Diana something solid enough to shove against.

Carefully placing her hands on Rell’s shoulders, Diana began to press strongly, trying to push her body back through the tunnel, or release her clothing enough to allow her to maneuver a little. The reporter held her breath, struggling to maintain her position against the tall woman’s forceful muscles. For a full minute, nothing moved.

Rell was just about ready to give up on the idea of Diana pushing herself backwards, and was considering if she had the strength to pull the taller woman forward instead, when suddenly, everything seemed to happen at once.

There was a sharp snap from underneath the tunnel and a brief shiver of movement came through the rock. The overpowering roar of falling stones startled both women, as clouds of choking dust billowed through the air. Where two women had struggled within the confines of the passageway, there was nothing left but empty space.

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"Oh, Grandma. I promise I will never drink Uncle Timothy’s new watermelon wine again," Rell groaned, holding her aching head with one hand. Opening her eyes, she was greeted with blackness so complete, Rell doubted she could have seen her hand in front of her face. "Wonderful," she grumped sarcastically. "I’m blind too." It was the dry, slightly acrid smell of rock dust that brought the reporter’s memory rushing back. "Hmmm, not Uncle Tim’s watermelon wine. That freaking tunnel collapsed right out from under us," she remembered.

Feeling around gently, she found the entire floor of the passageway had fallen as one complete piece, landing in a chamber underneath. "Which means Diana won’t be too far away then," she deduced logically, pleased she could still think straight. Inching forward, she swept her hands back and forth over the slab, trying to locate the tall woman. If she were conscious, the reporter reasoned, Diana would have probably said something piercing by now.

Continuing to grope her way over what was left of the tunnel floor, she came across Diana’s panga knife, lodged in a wide crack. Looping it securely over her shoulder, Rell moved forward again searching for the other woman. When she finally reached the far edge of the slab, Rell still hadn’t managed to find her dark-haired companion. Musta rolled, she thought, but which way? Not underneath, I hope. I’ll never get her out if she is under all this mess.

"Diana?" she called tentatively into the echoing darkness. "Where are you? Can you hear me?"

A soft, answering groan came from the floor to her right, and off the edge of the curving chunk of passageway. Crawling over carefully, Rell felt blindly along the boundary of the tunnel slab until one hand made contact with Diana’s foot leaning against the rocks. She eased herself over the side until she was squatting in the darkness next the ex-mercenary.

"Damn, I knew I was strong but not that strong." Diana swore quietly. "Remind me to take the slow elevator next time, will ya?"

"You okay?" Rell asked, slowly measuring her hands over Diana’s arms and legs looking for anything out of place.

The prone woman sat up slowly, gently shaking her head. Rell could hear several of the vertebrae in her companion’s neck snapping back into place with loud pops. "Pretty much, I think," Diana replied after a moment of silently assessing any damage. "Rib hurts a bit though," she admitted reluctantly.

That’s tantamount to saying it’s giving her merry hell, the reporter thought. "Here, let me give you a hand up," Rell offered, surprised when the other woman gripped her shoulder with one strong hand, levering herself back into a standing position. Shit, shit and buffalo turds, Rell mentally swore. That rib isn’t just hurting if Diana actually accepted my help without a word of protest. The stupid thing has probably been fractured again.

"Do you know where we are?" Diana asked, less interested in her injury than in getting out of the cavern. Rell listened carefully to the other woman’s inhalations. Even though they were a lot slower than she would have liked, Diana did appeared to be breathing normally.

"Not a clue, to be honest. I’d only just woken up when I started calling for you. Haven’t had a chance to investigate this delightful holiday-resort-for-the-eternally-damned yet," the reporter quipped lightly, hoping the layers of strapping would support the newly re-fractured rib. Because the women had assumed they were going to be spending some time crawling through the tunnel, Rell had strapped several extra widths of bandaging around Diana’s chest to protect her abused rib as much as possible. Now she was grateful they had taken the extra minutes necessary to take care of that.

"Well, let’s see if we can find the nearest wall, then," the other woman replied. "We can probably find a way out from there."

Walking side by side, one arm wrapped protectively around the other, the two women groped sightlessly through the pitch-blackness, searching for a wall or some other structure they could use to orient themselves. Some fifty paces from the slab, still walking with their hands outstretched in front of them, they discovered a very wide, very deep chasm in the floor. Rell stumbled into it first, her tottering body weight dragging the other woman with her into its depths.

The stocky reporter hit the steeply inclined bottom first, the greater weight of the dark-haired woman landing on top of her, forcing the breath from her lungs. Rolling helplessly over each other, they skidded along the polished surface into an even more precipitously angled tunnel. With no way of gaining a restraining grip, the women slid down the passageway, picking up speed until the wind rushed passed their ears noisily. Diana twisted herself around, quickly aligning herself so she was moving feet first along the sharply sloping tunnel. Pulling on Rell, she managed to get the smaller woman safely tucked between her longer legs, arms wrapped around her body.

Before either woman had a chance to wonder where the underground passage was taking them, the exit abruptly appeared from behind a thick, green curtain of vines. Shooting from the end of the tunnel, they found themselves some fifteen feet in the air momentarily hanging in space, defying the laws of gravity. However, gravity quickly reasserted itself, drawing the women back to earth.

Oh boy, this is going to really hurt, Rell thought to herself just before they made contact with the ground below. With her eyes squeezed tightly shut, she never saw the deep body of water rushing up at them until it closed over her head. Unprepared for her sudden immersion, the reporter sucked in a lung full of water before she realized keeping her mouth shut might be a good option. Somehow managing to hang on to each other, Rell and Diana struggled to get themselves back on dry land.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neither woman was sure who was holding up whom when they finally staggered from the water, exhausted and beaten. Flopping down on the muddy bank, Rell looked up gratefully at the intense blue sky over her head. After so many hours in the barely lit gloom of the tunnel, seeing the sun again was a precious gift to the reporter. The warm, yellow light overhead was already taking the bone deep chill from Rell’s body and clothes after their dunking in the cool lake.

"I don’t know about you, Diana," she said, tiredly. "But I think I’d like to lie here until I feel a bit better. Wake me in about a hundred years. I might just be human by then."

Diana snorted beside the other woman, unusually willing to go along with the idea of simply lying flat and still for a while. The demands she had been placing on her body over the past few days were taking their toll, and for a change the taller woman was quite amenable to admitting she needed some rest, at least to herself anyway. The renewed pain of her rib let her know she had probably fractured it again. I don’t think I want to get up for a bit either, she decided. It’ll settle down if I just lie still for now. Reaching out with one hand, she gently interlaced her fingers with Rell’s before allowing her eyes to close. A few minutes won’t hurt, she thought.

She had barely relaxed when the touch of something sharp scratched lightly against Diana’s slowly warming cheek. Thinking it was nothing more than a blade of grass, she used her free hand to try to knock it away. The ex-mercenary’s eyes popped open in surprise when the blade of grass turned out to be the point of a spear, an incredibly sharp spear. Running her eye up the length of the weapon, Diana found attached to the other end a very strangely dressed woman, and she didn’t looked too pleased at having discovered two soaked and exhausted women lying by the water.

"Ummm, Rell," the other woman said quietly, not taking her gaze off the woman standing over her.

"Yea," the stocky reporter replied, not bothering to open her tired eyes. "What’s up?"

"We have company," Diana stated simply. "Rather unhappy looking company, I might add," she continued.

"Fucking hell, now what?" was about all the reply Rell could find to give, as she snapped back into full awareness.

Sitting up abruptly, startling the spear-holding woman into moving her weapon threateningly, Rell looked around. Standing in a tight circle surrounding them was another dozen or so women. All were dressed as strangely as the first, in short leather skirts split to the waist, and knee-high leather boots. Their breasts had been left mostly bare, with only a covering of colorful paint in wild designs. Ornamented sweatbands were tied around their foreheads and many had bright feathers or strips of patterned fur braided into their long hair. Wide leather straps buckled about their forearms from wrist to elbow completed the bizarre outfits.

Rell realized that, this was not a band of innocent forest maidens out for an afternoon stroll. Every single one of them appeared to be armed to the teeth with a variety of weapons in ancient styles. Swords, spears, bows, knives and beautifully plaited leather whips hung from belt catches, or were looped over a shoulder. Most of the women seemed to have two or three weapons on them; the reporter noticed from how the women held their weapons that they knew how to use them all. The reporter was relieved to notice there didn’t appear to be a single rifle or hand-held pistol among any of the weaponry. It didn’t mean they had none; perhaps the women were choosing not to show them yet.

The spear-holding woman suddenly flipped the weapon in her hands, using the butt end to poke Diana in the shoulder. Opening her mouth, a string of the weirdest sounding words were issued. Rell and Diana looked quizzically at each other, then back at the spear holder before Rell held her hands up indicating she didn’t understand what had been said. The spear-holder spoke again, much more loudly, hoping that volume would somehow overcome the language barrier. Poking the butt of her spear into Diana’s shoulder, she shoved harder, clearly trying to get the tall woman to do something.

"Hey! Stop that!" Rell snapped, in defense of the other woman. Rising to her knees, she tried to push the spear away from Diana.

One of the other strangely dressed women standing behind Rell immediately stepped forward, slamming the butt end of her spear into the back of the reporter’s neck. The hit was hard enough to rattle Rell’s brains as she dropped over the still prone body of Diana, leaving her with a loud buzzing in her ears.

"Okay, maybe that isn’t such a good idea," she said, pushing herself painfully into a sitting position again. Rubbing at the back of her neck where the weapon had connected, she looked angrily at her assailant. "You didn’t have to do that, you know. A simple 'you’re-stepping-out-of-line' would have been enough."

The woman who had struck her, looked as though she was ready to do it again, lifting the weapon to shoulder height. It was clear she was aiming for the stocky reporter’s face this time. Rell braced herself, not intending to back away from the confrontation, even if it meant adding a new bruise or two to the ones covering most of her body.

Before the blow could fall, a taller, middle-aged woman suddenly ran up behind Rell’s attacker, snatching the spear from her hands, and spinning her around. Flinging the spear to the ground in a gesture of complete disgust, the woman swung a ringing backhanded slap across the other woman’s cheek, startling everyone. She let loose with a flurry of harsh sounds neither Rell nor Diana understood, but it was clear everyone else did as heads hung and weapons were slowly lowered.

Having obviously dressed down the women surrounding Rell and Diana, she then turned her attention to the two people still on the ground. Quickly divesting herself of weaponry, she handed them over to the woman she had just slapped. Kneeling beside Rell and Diana, she held out her hands, palms uppermost, to show she meant no harm.

Touching a finger to the middle of her chest, she said quietly, "Latona." Smiling at the women, she nodded her head and repeated the gesture, saying again, "Latona."

"I think it’s her name," Diana said to Rell. Pointing at the woman beside her, the prone woman answered, "Latona." Moving her fingertip to her own chest, she continued, "Diana."

The woman smiled and repeated Diana’s name before looking expectantly at the reporter.

"Oh, Rell. My name is Rell," the stocky woman offered.

Gently touching Diana’s shoulder, Latona said a single word. Realizing the women didn’t understand, she thought for a moment. Again laying her hand on the tall woman’s shoulder, she said, "Venir."

"Venir?" Rell repeated, a questioning look on her face. "I don’t know what that word means, do you, Diana?"

"It’s Spanish. She wants us to come with her. Venir means come." Diana explained carefully. The word had been oddly accented in a way completely familiar to the tall woman, but she was having trouble understanding the language the women had been speaking. She was certain it was Greek, yet it was as though the words she knew had been slightly altered to mean something different. Shaking her head, the dark-haired woman decided to think about it later, once she’d heard a lot more of the language spoken around her.

Rising off the ground slightly, Diana grabbed at her fractured rib painfully, the grimace screwing up on her face. Latona’s hand immediately shot out, stopping her from sitting up any higher.

Through the rents and tears in Diana’s shirt, Latona could see something that looked like a dressing, though it was made of a material entirely unknown to her. Regardless, she did know what was wrong from the way the outsider was clutching at one side of her chest. Sweet Artemis, how badly is she hurt, she wondered silently, and will she accept our help? They don’t even trust us yet, and these fools haven’t helped the situation. Thank all the gods I was close enough to stop Antigone from hurting the little one again.

Looking Diana in the eye, Latona asked seriously, "Ayudar?"

"What’s she saying now?" Rell asked, worried about the way Diana was making no move to get up off the ground.

"It means help, Rell. I think she wants to help me."

"Oh god. Let her, Diana. Please," the reporter pleaded, seeing the pale, sweaty look on her companion’s face.

Nodding, Diana replied, "Si, Latona." Falling back onto the ground, the tall woman allowed whatever was going to be done happen around her. Falling into the cavern had fractured the rib again, and the wild ride through the tunnel into the water left her feeling as though someone had stabbed a knife into her side.

Latona looked questioningly at Diana, her hands hovering over the place the blue-eyed woman was clutching so protectively. Moving her hand away, Diana permitted Latona to carefully examine her ribs, feeling for the break under the strapping. Hmmm, just the one feels broken but not too badly, Latona thought. Whatever this stuff is, it seems to be supporting the break properly but when did she do it? If she hurt herself before reaching the portal, like the Old One said, why is it still causing her so much pain?

Thinking for a moment, still gently assessing the break, she realized it must have been snapped again somewhere inside the portal itself. Oh, sweet Artemis, that’s got to hurt, she thought. Both of them look just about done in. Getting through the portal must be rougher than we realized…not that the prophecy was very specific about what they might face in there. And this dark one is determined not to show just how hurt she really is, but even I can see she isn’t up to walking to the village. The healers would probably drown me if I made her do that. No, I guess there is nothing to be done but carry her; to Tartarus with her sense of dignity.

Concluded in Part 4

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