From the instant it had all begun to the moment it all ended, Leah had felt removed from these events, as though watching them unfold from a distance.

She didn't react, save for the instinctive flinch, at the abrupt sounding of the war-cry, and watched as bacchae after bacchae either burned or fell to their second death, none of it really penetrating her consciousness. She even found the sight of several bacchae simply exploding , without fire or least noise, into their constituent body parts somewhat amusing. The walking buzzsaw responsible for most of this (absurd as it sounded, this was the only way her mind could wrap itself about the sight this figure presented) appeared less interested in the carnage it wrought, and was clearly advancing on them. Even this failed to breed the mildest panic from her.

Leah knew herself to be in shock, her earlier calm in the face of their impending death was that of numb realization rather than acceptance of the inevitable. And now? Now her heart and mind sang out in fright so blinding all though shrank away, the fingers lacing through her's alone keeping her anchored, giving strength enough to remain standing.

Some thought as to escape nonetheless filtered through, but the rest of her was frozen by the horror approaching. She wondered if the Bowie was still in hand, or if it had already fallen from her nerveless fingers. Idle thoughts were all she could manage coherently. That, and to wonder what the one pressed behind her thought of her obvious cowardice.

She wasn't even able to so much as squeak when they were seized from behind and carried aloft. Only the inhuman wail and accompanying rain of heat and light that come next broke through the mental fog, her own cry of shock joining it.

Nicolia had felt her Amazon stiffen and tense at the war-cry, a mirror to her own reaction. She recognized it, and wasn't sure if she should be relieved...or try and flee to the shadows. The latter, while tempting, proved impossible, knowing there was simply no way she could carry her dark-haired giant from here, and the very thought of leaving her was too laughable to be taken seriously.

And so, like her Amazon, she stood her ground...and watch in disbelief as the ranks before them were decimated by a blur of blades advancing on them. The periodic explosions of flesh and flame across the chamber proved even more nerve-racking, each proving too sudden and sharp to be taken in.

Yet she resisted retreating internally, unwilling to abandon her Amazon to the animals and demons surrounding them. Oddly, she'd made no move to maneuver them away from the growing carnage, even though the way behind them was clear. Too interested in the tableau playing out before them, perhaps? Or did she know these two furies advancing on them? Nicolia didn't know what to make of this, and wasted no time contemplating it, choosing instead to act for them both.

The Amazon proved resistant to her efforts to pull them both away. Nicolia didn't puzzle over this either, and simply put more strength behind her tugs on both hand and shoulder. She had to try a third time before it penetrated and they were moving. It was only a half-pace, yet held all the relief of thousand leagues.

Their feet had not fully settled when something grasped them both by shoulders and pulled them upwards. It proved so sudden there was no time for either of them to so much as gasp. Even when they were both flung a short distance, ending up in a tangle of numb limbs, neither of them uttered a sound. The blade of the Bowie scrapping across the smooth stone surface was the nearest sound Nicolia was immediately aware of, the din of the battle still in the background. Even these things quickly receded into the distance of irrelevance, the sight of what awaited them there.

The silent tower of rags and filth stood before them, its arms outstretched, and pale red eyes aglow with hunger.

The sight robbed Nicolia lost all rational thought, who began clawing her way from beneath her Amazon in hopes of fleeing, companion or no. The robed creature had begun floating across the dias towards them, not quickly but inexorably, no barrier conceivable to imagination capable of halting it. This made the healer's struggles all the more frantic, and consequently all the more ineffectual. The Amazon was so much deadweight atop her, and her efforts were clearly making no headway at disentangling them from each other.

Panic was no longer nipping at her mental heels; it had latched on and sunk its teeth deep into her. Whether it was some burst of strength from an untaped reserve within her, or simply out of blind desperation, Nicolia suddenly managed to pry herself from the Amazon's dead limbs (practically throwing the latter off of her) and crawl to the dais' edge, nearly collapsing off it in her haste.

The robed one apparently preferred the chase to simply partaking of the still-unmoving dark-haired woman at its feet, bypassing her and closing slowly on the one seemingly determined to escape. For this Nicolia unconsciously grateful, though she could practically feel the leer hidden within that hood, the razor teeth filling that leer equally hidden and equally present. It sent her blindly grouping the edges, pulling herself away from the omnipresent stench of mildew and rot, eyes unable to tear away from the approaching figure.

At some point, her hands came upon the Bowie, grasping its pommel with both hands and swinging it about. She brandished it as though it were a broadsword, presenting a rather ridiculous sight as she was on her back and barely balanced on one shoulder.

The robed figure nonetheless paused in its pursuit, looking no longer at her, but slightly beyond her. Confused, Nicolia risked a glance to her side, surprised to see a pair of boots a mere handslength from her shoulder. Her eyes traveled up virtually of their own accord, past toned legs and sleek muscles only half-hidden by well-traveled denim and shirt. Long hair of burnished honey locks was gathered back into a messy ponytail, and a quarterstaff was held loose in one hand.

But it was the eyes that looked down upon her, eyes aglow with the purest gold to be imagined, that held her transfixed. Deus ex machina was all Nicolia could think of this newcomer, those eyes leaving her to focus upon the towering figure in filthy robes, their departure leaving her cold and shaken once more.

"Gaunt!" the slight blond hissed in a voice that was more felt in the bones than heard aloud, though Nicolia caught the blonde's lips move slightly, forming the words. The air both froze and crackled about her with raw energy. Deus, indeed.

"Burn!"

This time, no words were spoken, issuing instead from the soul itself. It was a command that could not be denied. Nor was it within the power of any other, alive or dead, to resist its power.

Smoke began to leak from within the robes, every tear and tatter issuing dirty tendrils of reeking gray vapor. The first licks of flame sparked only a second later, catching first the edges of fabric, spreading quickly from there. With a speed that defied belief, the figure was fully alight, soon becoming a pillar of consuming flame.

The robed one took a single step back, raising its arms not in supplication, but as if in rapture. A sound issued from within the flames, something resembling a screech of razor nails across glass. There was no pain to be heard in it, nor fear. In later days, Nicolia would realize what it was, and would suffer nightmares from it.

It was a laugh. The laughter of madness and abandon, so hollow it might as well have drifted up from the bottom of an empty well. The creature's laughter only rose as the flames took more and more of its form...becoming fever pitch...

...until its form literally exploded in a blaze of blistering heat and fiery ash. Nicolia was forced to look away, bringing both arms up to cover her face from the small shower of still-flaming rags drifted down from above, her ears ringing from the din created by the body's unexpected detonation. Even this failed to drown out the still-audible screech of the creature's laughter.

Eyes wide, Nicolia looked back to the woman towering over her, only to be greeted by an enraged scowl marring her radiant features. "Every damn time..." was the muttered curse before she looked down upon the unnerved healer as though seeing her for the first time, immediately catching the fear in those dark and expressive eyes. Her own features quickly softened at the sight, and she squatted down so to speak to her on a more even level. "We have to get out of here. Do you understand?" Nicolia could only nod, slowly, the blonds voice calming her as if by magic.

She was helped to her feet by an arm too strong to be so slight, the thought promptly reminding her of another. She pulled herself from the gentle-strong grasp of the (surprisingly) smaller woman and covered the distance to her Amazon, who was gazing saucer-eyed at place where the robed one had met its end, now a smoking patch of stone. "Hey," she murmured, going to one knee. Seeing no response, she tried a little louder, adding a firm grip on one shoulder for emphasis. "Hey!" Dark hazel met deep grey, at once familiar and new, awareness now in the latter. "We have to go. Now." Urgency pushed aside any tolerance for delay, and she all but dragged the dark-haired woman to her feet.

Nicolia noticed, somewhat distractedly, her Amazon had caught sight of the blond. Was staring at her, actually, and rather intensely as well. A twinge of jealousy hit her, and led her to pull the taller woman along with perhaps more force than necessary. This earned her a glare, which Nicolia endured with some satisfaction. 'At least she's looking at me again.'

The small blond didn't even seem to notice, instead turning to lead them down the narrow flight of steps carved into the dais' back end. Nicolia kept a firm grip on her Amazon's shirt, unwilling to surrender the contact or even ease it slightly. They descended the stairs quickly and made to round the dias's corner, only to be stopped their guide's staff blocking further advance. Nicolia was about to open her mouth in protest when three bodies, only one of them recognizable as human, literally sailed across the air and fell into a heap of broken and battered flesh at their feet.

Nicolia closed her mouth with an audible 'clack'.

"There's a small opening off to the left," the blond threw quietly over her shoulder. "When I say 'now', run for it." She glanced around the corner before either of them could offer any protest and hissed "Now!" She herself promptly rejoined the fray, not looking back to see if they did as bade. Nicolia was actually grateful, certain those eyes had once again taken a fierce aspect.

Her Amazon by her side, their hands once again joined, the medicine woman led the way. They crossed the way to the opening in only a few strides, neither looking at the chaos still surrounding them. They moved as one (thought this realization would only hit later, both being rather busy at that moment), and disappeared into the darkness beyond the threshold as one.

The warrior had held her own for some time, and was starting to get bored with the whole thing. So she made no protest when her partner rejoined her, the latter's staff discouraging a few overly brave stalkers from blind siding her.

"They gone?" the warrior hissed, sword cleanly decapitating a brawny-looking bacchae.

"Yup," the Ancient nodded, staff snapping the head of another back, its body quickly following.

"Is...it...gone?" Another decapitation, with a shoulder and arm joining the head for good measure.

"For the moment." Four solid hits in rapid succession and a pale-skinned seductress was immobilized.

"The let's get outta here!"

They turned and ran as one, several bacchae in pursuit. The small blond crossed into darkness first, while the warrior paused and suddenly spun just crossing the threshold. A feral grin to her lips, she waved a single finger at their pursuers. "Ah-uh-ah," she said in a tone one reserved for scolding misbehaving children, sword suddenly flashing out and connecting with the walls of the entrance, one strike each.

She was gone only seconds before the threshold collapsed in on itself, sealing them away from any pursuit.

The collective cry of the bacchae filled the great chamber, its rage filtering upwards, and out into the night beyond.

The short blonde had been quick to overtake Leah and Nicolia (the latter having managed to whisper her name into Leah's ear, not certain if the information penetrated nor entirely sure why it was so desperately important the Amazon know this), hands still joined between them She was quicker still to urge them "Follow me," and lead them even deeper into the dark. Each gave some thought to objecting. The taller one, the one with the sword, bearing down on them from behind however was sufficient incentive to follow the blonde's lead, even if they had no real idea where they were going.

Neither wanted to think about what they were all running from.

The tunnel actually proved easier to navigate than the ones they'd first followed into the central chamber, its walls naturally smooth and lit with phosphorescent dust while the ground underfoot was unworked. The latter proved a mixed blessing for Leah, as it gave her sufficient traction to keep up with the others, while managing to slowly but surely tear her soles of her socks to shreds. Like so many other things surrounding them, she chose not to think about that. Her universe had contracted down to the warm hand clutching her's, the dim path before them...the eventual rescue of the children was firmly lodged in the back of her mind... somewhere...and nothing else.

So she kept running, pounding down that dark corridor, hand-in-hand with a stranger she could not let go of, in the company of the absolute last person who should be there, all but mindless of the dull pains starting to wear at her feet. Leah paid it all no mind...at least until the dull pain raking her feet turned to very sharp pain stabbing into the underside of her left foot. She couldn't stop her voice from automatically crying out in shock. It was actually little more than a yelp of surprise, and being a Covington that meant it was a very quiet one at that.

It nonetheless proved sufficient to command everyone else's attention. The small blonde skidded to a halt, eyes suddenly on her with such intensity it made her very nervous. The dusky-skinned one beside her raked her up and down with those dark, expressive eyes, now wide as saucers. Leah didn't dare look behind her to see what expression the sword-wielder was wearing. Leah gave them a strained grin meant as apology, though wisely offered no resistance to their quickly leading her to sit on the ground. Once settled, the blonde and her cinnamon-skinned running mate knelt to either side of her, while the giant with the sword once again showed them her back and hefted the sword up to the ready.

The blonde pulled the shredded socks off both her feet, while Nicolia carefully felt her way along the sensitive skin of both appendages. Leah managed not to so much as giggle, despite the fact her feet were...well...a tad ticklish. Okay, very ticklish, particularly when naked to the air. It was her single greatest weakness, and one she carefully guarded against any discovery. That she kept silent throughout this was a testament to her willpower... though certainly having someone else to focus on helped enormously.

A very specific someone, actually.

In fact, Leah felt what nervousness the tall one engendered in her, as well as the calm her companion (yes, there was no question of her remaining by her side whatever may come) gave her, all giving way to unexpected anger towards the one who should not be here. This made her bold enough to pull away from her companion's ministrations, reach out, and forcibly grab that one by the leg. In the harshest, most intimidating manner she could manage, which being a Covington was considerable, Leah fairly hissed "What the hell are you doing here, Aunt Mel?!"

It certainly proved an attention getter. Nicolia backed away a hair, eyebrows raised at the outburst, uncertain if she should try reaching back through that tangle of limbs to reach the wounded foot or just sit back and enjoy the show. The dark one quickly looked down at the Amazon, at those fierce eyes of hazel-blue that held seeds of familiarity and glared with just indignation directed at their target alone, then cast her eyes to her honey-haired companion of the ages, who looked between her and their distant off-spring with obvious confusion. She felt her mouth quirk with the laughter she fought down, though there was no evidence of it when she spoke.

Catching her companion's eye, keeping one on the strong hand encircling the small blonde's booted ankle, she said, "I think she means you, Gabrielle."

The bacchae fugitively clawed and dug the blockage preventing them from pursuing their escaped prey. They made little actual headway, as much because those who were digging were by far the most feral and devolved of the community (and consequently hadn't fully grasped just how dangerous the prey was, never mind who it was) as because there were so few of them and so much barring their way.

Those choosing not to partake of this comic-futile efforts stood back and allowed the animals their fun, not interfering and making no move to dissuade them. A few had scars born of such interference in the past, and so were not anxious to repeat such mistakes. Others kept to the side out of distraction, not conscious choice.

The fine mist that leaked out of fissures and crevices in the walls and floor at the chamber's far end, initially only a few wisps but quickly adding mass and becoming a thick fog, did not go unnoticed. Nor how this 'fog' actually began rolling across the chamber at a fair clip, neither unnaturally fast or inconspicuously slow, visibly weaving among the bacchae there. It slowed somewhat as it approached the collapsed entryway. Slowed, and coalesced into a growing column of whirling, reeking smoke.

Instinctively knowing that their heralded, the bacchae all backed away, save for the most regressed and slavering of the lot. These few utterly ignored these developments in favor of their continued (and pointless) digging and clawing at the fallen rock. The appearance of twin ember points, suddenly alight and burning within the column's head, led those who saw them to back away even further, causing many to stumble into each other and tempers to flare. Claws and fangs were soon bared as private debts were prepared to be settled.

No one had the chance to draw first blood, for out of the smoky column before them strode the familiar filthy and tattered robes of the Death One. Those who had snarled only moments before now cowered and shook in blind fear, though their Master made no move against them.

The Death One had eyes only for the fallen rocks barring it from pursuing and punishing the one who had hurt it so. Its eyes glowed fierce at the thought.

It raising both arms and threw them wide, the stone and rocks blocking their way rising and flinging themselves aside in tandem. The few bacchae who had still been digging there were likewise sent flying and dashed against the far walls, crushed beneath the debris.

No one noticed or cared.

The Death One raised its arm, out of who's sleeve extended at withered claw more akin to an eagle's talon than a human's. A single finger, malformed and ending in a sharp, tapered point where claw and flesh became one, extended and directed all eyes into the darkness beyond the narrow threshold. Even the densest among the bacchae understood the command, and were the ones who smiled the widest at the offering.

With a "whoop" of delight, first one, then many of the community leap through the opening. They entered a few at a time, and even then not a few of them ended up with scratches and cuts from brushing too quickly against the rough edges of the collapsed threshold. The coppery scent of their own blood upon the rocks inflamed them, perking their thirst for more.

Their calls soon echoed off the narrow walls of the cavern, a din every bit as unnerving as the animals themselves.

Gabrielle, pureblood daughter of Bacchus, Ancient Bard revered by Amazon and feared by bacchae, "Patron Goddess of the Babbling Mouth" according to her eternal mate, sat there and couldn't for the life of her think of a thing to say. Fortunately, her partner (who endured many a night of teasing torture, some of it quite painfully erotic, for the "patron goddess" crack) was not nearly so shocked. "I think you've got the wrong idea here, girl."  

Normally, anyone referring to her as such would have earned a Covington four-knuckle sandwich to the nose. Leah, having far more pressing concerns on her mind right then, ignored this and instead pulled on the leg once more, nearly snarling "I'm waiting, Mel. What are you doing in this goddess-be-damned place, huh?!" She tried to stand, intent on using her height to its natural advantage, only to be defeated by the same wound that stopped their flight in the first place. She managed to plop back to her rear with at least a modicum of dignity, continuing to glare at the small blonde all the while. After a moment or two of further silence, she hissed "Well?"

The dark one, who did tower over everyone, appeared to take some offense at her tone, and automatically hefted her sword in a way that communicated both displeasure and warning. She immediately realized it was a wasted effort, as the woman had eyes only for the kneeling bard before her.

Gabrielle met her descendent's glare full on, calmly saying "Please let go my leg." There was no threat, no frost, no danger lurking in that voice at all, yet to Leah it felt as though the air had been leeched from her lungs. She managed to pry her fingers off the slim thigh, her muscles having gone rigid with something a good bit stronger than anger.

"You…aren't Mel, are you?"

The blonde's eyebrows knit together, the obvious question in her eyes. It was mirrored by her dark partner, while Nicolia scooted back a hair, looking with new eyes at her Amazon. The small blonde asked it aloud all the same. "Mel…Pappas?"

"General Melissa Covington?" Leah couldn't help the grimace at the blonde's shaking her head, the grin beginning to form there irritating her further. Okay, so the woman was pint-sized, temperamental bitch-and-a-half who desperately needed to get laid more often. She was still her aunt, for Goddess' sake, and damned if she'd take an insult to her however innocent-looking.

She offered a familiar opening. "Got a problem with the name?" Respected as the Covingtons might be, there were always those who convinced themselves it was their duty to take the family down a peg or two. Leah had developed quite the repertoire of counter-taunts and digs to get her opponent's swinging first.

"No, no," the blonde was quick to reassure her, hands raised and palms out. "Far from it. I've just never heard of…her…in particular." It was close enough to the truth that the lie didn't readily show. Certainly they'd heard of the military genius who had kept the borders of the Freestate secure almost since its founding, though most descriptions they'd come across put her as a fire-breathing cross between a Gorgon, a giant squid, and a lump of ground beef.

Leah found herself derailed by this. Not knowing what to say, she sat back and grunted "Well…good." Her scowl deepened when she caught the smaller woman's amused smirk, though she couldn't quite bring herself to meet those shinning emerald eyes of her's.

Nicolia watched the exchange with interest, though it was the cut on her Amazon's foot which received the most attention. "So," she joined the conversation, her tone off-handed and distant, "If you aren't 'The Fourth Fury', who are you?" This earned her a glare from Leah and a pair of rolled eyes from the dark one.

The blonde, however, looked thoughtful, as though she were mentally filing away the title for future use. It would eventually find its way into a series of stories the bard would write, which in turn would become the basis of a comprehensive history of the Freestate and its successor nation…much to the consternation of Leah's great-great-granddaughter, who was rather shy and until then had managed to avoid the limelight despite her own notable accomplishments, political as well as martial, but that is another story altogether.

The ancient gathered her staff and stood before answering, with her typically understated bardic flourish. "I'm called…Gabrielle."

If it was meant to be a world-shattering revelation, she should have been disappointed at receiving only a grunt from Nicolia and another glare from Leah, the latter more a mask against the pain shooting up through her foot than actual emotion. A chuckle of laughter came from the dark warrior near them, having seen this lack of reaction and was actually somewhat gratified by it, long ago having had her fill of looks of awe and admiration once their names were known. The bard gave her a brief glare of her own, then refocused her attention on the two at their feet.

"I think we should talk," she began, when the warrior audibly stiffened and brandished her sword in the direction they'd just come.

"Gabrielle, help her up." It was an order whose urgency, rather than the tone, prompted the bard to action. The warrior might have commanded armies once with such a tone, but never her sworn Queen. If she spoke so now…

Gabrielle's sharp hearing picked out the reason, only moments before the scent of bloodthirst filled her nostrils. This caused her fangs to extend unconsciously, though she kept them hidden from easy view behind a tight frown and covering herself by half-yanking the dark-haired one to her feet and all but throwing her over her shoulder.

"Hey!" Leah yelped, too surprised and disorientated to offer more physical protest. Nicolia was similarly dumbstruck, though dfor far different reasons. She followed the bard's lead as she carried her Amazon further into the darkness, eyes not leaving either.

The warrior lingered for a moment more, sword still held at the ready, but only for a moment. She, too, turned and fled into the darkness, the sounds of hungry animals at her heels.

It ceased being a simple tunnel they ran through, but more the twisting caverns of a monster's innards, turning and circling back on itself…or so it seemed to Leah from her less-than-dignified position over the blonde's shoulder. She wasn't sure what was stranger: being carried so (which put her clearly in mind of how she'd awakened only an hour ago, thoughts which she promptly squashed lest she freeze up again), her new upside-down perspective coming from it, or the fact the smaller woman didn't seem burdened in the slightest by her weight.

They were making good time, better even than Nicolia, which she had no problem with. Though to be honest she could have gone without being jostled and tossed all about. The smaller woman's shoulder might have been strong and solid, appearances to the contrary, but having it constantly press into one's stomach was only good for a sore gastrointestinal cavity and an unpleasant ache in one's pelvis.

"I'm not crippled, you know," Leah hissed, trying to relax herself enough to minimize the pain her position caused.

Gabrielle heard this, a low growl (well, more of a sniff and snort than a growl) of "Stubborn!" being her only answer.

They could hear the scratching and bat-like whistles of the bacchae behind them. Quick as they were, the slow growing din bespoke of both numbers and speed that, in as confining a space as this, could only overwhelm them.

Gabrielle chanced a glance behind her, past Nicolia and focusing on her dark partner, the question clear in her eyes. The onyx-haired woman, her eyes bright with her birthright fire and forehead shinning with cooling sweat, met her gaze with one of her own. Tactics and stratagems had already conceived and discarded. They were trying to out-race the inevitable here, and what little lead they had was fast narrowing.

Gabrielle swallowed the hard lump that developed with this realization. Were it just them, they might well have turned and fought their way back to the great chamber and have it done with the Death One. There was every chance they might not walk away from such a contest, the numbers against them being that great and backed by a power nearly unmatched in the shadow worlds, but only nearly.

But they weren't alone there, and they were here for reasons other than settling old debts. Battle had already been given, and the measure of the enemy taken. Formidable odds, yes, though Gabrielle herself roughly balanced the scales; she'd give her all here, her motives right then setting her resolve in so much bedrock.

Her partner on the other hand would be the true deciding factor, both knowing this and both determined to avoid placing her into such a situation. The past hours had already taken their toll on her, and neither had any wish to see how closely they skirted the limits this time…lest Gabrielle be left to walk the world alone for yet another century or more.

The resurrection of the Xena of Amphipolis, the DarkFire, the Daughter of Olympia's Fire, had proven a far from perfect thing.

True, her sire's strength still suffused her limbs, and her will was as indomitable as ever. But noticeable differences between her youth and now had appeared of late. She healed as quickly as ever, though the scars now remained with the worst wounds. More worrisome was the gray strands, which had begun to lighten her hair, and the exhaustion which would occasionally set in after hours of battle or travel. Even their once-wild lovemaking (much to their mutual dismay) had been forced to take a softer tone. Gabrielle's ecstatic feeding on Xena proving dangerously draining on the warrior now.

Neither would speak of the fear both held deep within their hearts, as though denial of the very possibility of her natural death would keep it from becoming real, but were far more cautious in their travels now. Hence their having kept themselves so low the past several decades, ever since the outset of the first pandemic, and hence their flight now where their every nerve screamed to turn and face the approaching rabble.

Plus there were the children to consider.

Gabrielle felt her pace increase, a light tingle seeping into her legs as her unconscious desperation tapping into reserves of energy at once more, and less, than purely human.

Nicolia felt the burn in her lungs as she tried, 'tried' being the operative word, to keep up with Gabrielle and her Amazon. It was rather exhilarating, actually, this breathless flight from danger, in the presence of legends. She knew plain shock had set in, keeping her from thinking about just how narrow their escape had been.  

Rather, she concentrated on simpler things. Keeping her Amazon in sight was a marvelous focus. As if having six-plus-feet of dark muscle and purpose close behind wasn't motivation enough to keep moving. Even the pursuing horde beyond was less a terror than knowing…she…was at her back.

Nicolia found her mind wandering a bit the further they moved on, lingering particularly on her Amazon. Exactly why she'd come to think of the woman in the possessive went unexamined; she would not be parted from the woman, and that was that. The why and wherefores could wait until they were safely away from this place, though she doubted she would last long once they had a few quiet moments together. It had been too long since she'd been with another, and the Amazon's natural scent was a well-aged wine for her deprived palate.

Then there was that annoying voice whispering in her ear, alternately calling up all manner of erotic scenario that had no place in the here and now and cursing her out as it always did. This too was distracting, though more because it painted such vivid pictures of her raven-haired Amazon than because she actually listened to any of it. One, after all, tends to tune out monotonous noise after a time. Hearing what a fool she was for chasing after children she didn't eve know, lusting after a woman she'd only just met, and how she'd die a horrible death for all this, all for the umpteenth time, proved easy to ignore.

Rather, the healer put one foot before the other in rapid pace, unwilling to let her Amazon or the Ancient slip from sight.

She'd managed to ignore the stitch that crept up her side for some time. It had actually been with her since they'd started running, concern over their safety providing sufficient distraction. That she'd managed to avoid tripping over her own feet so far was a minor miracle, though this couldn't last.

It didn't.

Eventually, Nicolia felt herself begin to stumble, the ache gripping her right side and running from heel to ribs. Her breath burned with each exhale, leaving her throat raw and pained.

The warrior, closer behind her than thought, must have seen this. One moment Nicolia felt her feet begin to fold underneath her, the next a powerful arm wrapped about her midsection, supporting and righting her without the least visible effort. She was quickly running again, as much to get herself and her Amazon away from the one supporting her as keep a step ahead of the giggling and hooting death behind them. One wants to feel warmth from a fire, after all, but not actually have it reach out and touch one!

And so she ran, new strength in stride for which she'd happily pay the price for later, and renewed purpose.

She'd not forgotten about the rag doll, who's soul song remained a calm chorus throughout the past hour's madness, and who had been a comforting weight in the inner pocket of her hide jacket. Indeed, in past minutes the song had grown noticeably stronger, her own heart joining in the refrain in perfect counterpoint.

Nicolia found herself disbelieving what this all told her. This didn't stop her from calling out and pointing to a narrow passageway just ahead of them. "Wait!" she panted, urgently pointing to the opening. "That…that way!"

The ancient skidded to a quick halt and fixed her with eyes now turned burnished gold. Her Amazon couldn't see this, for which Nicolia was silently grateful, though the former did manage to twist herself about sufficiently for their own eyes to join once more. This gave the wanderer strength enough to brave the ancient's questioning gaze.

"You're sure?" the small ancient asked only once, those same eyes communicating what consequences awaited them all should this only lead them to be cornered and caught. For herself and her partner they had no fears, but for herself and her Amazon…

Nicolia merely swallowed in a futile effort to wet her parched throat and nodded, still panting. "I'm…I'm sure." She unconsciously reached into her jacket and pulled out the rag doll, unsure whether to show as evidence or hold as a compass or simply as a comfort for herself. Her Amazon's eyes went wide in recognition of the toy, Nicolia risking meeting those eyes once more, finding herself under careful scrutiny.

She consequently missed the surprise in the ancient's eye at the sight, and the decision in the warrior's own beside her.

Gabrielle, to her eternal shame, found she had quite forgotten that there were simply more than their descendent and her other at stake here. They'd found the caravan, seen the evidence, read all the signs clearly. They'd known from the outset there were innocents at stake, yet the first sight of the Covington woman and the healer left their entire focus changed.

This was actually happening with greater frequency, their minds sometimes wandering off unexpectedly. Until now, it hadn’t proven a detriment. Another thing they never spoke about, though she knew it worried Xena no end. Gabrielle herself simply took it as a sign they were getting on in years, or so she joked to herself.

If true, she had no wish to ponder the consequences of it right then…or ever.

Rather, she looked upon the healer, letting the merest shade of her godling heritage to be seen. The children were still paramount, all of them, but the time for foolish risks with them was past. The approaching pack would be trouble enough.

A glance at Xena, those icy sapphire eyes aglow, ended any debate she might have offered. They would follow the healer’s lead from here on. End of story.

While Gabrielle had no objection to this (she’d reached the same decision only a heartbeat before looking up), nor did she consider it ill advised or desperate (though the noise of the Death One’s pack was closing uncomfortably fast). She’d have to have been deaf not to hear the song emanating off the doll in the healer’s hand, directing them to this narrow-looking passage. And why didn’t we think of that? Gabrielle wondered for a moment before squeezing herself into the passage. No easy feat, given she had two metres of impatient Covington still thrown over her shoulder, her descendant’s descendent not squirming or even shifting all that much.

Gabrielle counted her blessings and made their way into the narrow passage. The healer followed close behind eyes alternating between the doll in hand, her Amazon ahead of her, and the claustrophobically narrow walls they now passed between. Xena herself waited several counts before squeezing herself in with deliberate care, seemingly oblivious to the hoots and screeches emanating from just around the nearby corner.

She had eyes and ears for the back of the dusky-skinned woman ahead of her alone.

The warrior had only just passed across the rough threshold when, for no visible cause, the walls of entrance collapsed in upon themselves. There was no quake or tremor or even undue noise as stone loosened and became so much rubble, falling in upon itself and sealing the passage behind them. It took only moments for any sign of their escape to be buried from easy sight.

The bacchae, who whooped and clawed their way over one another as they rounded the corner, were beyond making the effort needed to have discovered this. The chase had become their sole focus, and the spore of the prey still strong enough that any other thought could only fall to the wayside. Even when the spore weakened and faded, sheer momentum carried them on, leaving their prey far and safely behind.

Such is the difference between true predators and mere animals.

The passageway was amazingly easy to navigate, even for the over-burdened Gabrielle and Xena, who kept her blade at the ready. Another bit of luck for them, though neither paid it much mind. Nor, for that matter, did Leah or Nicolia. The former feeling increasingly too ill in the stomach to appreciate their changed circumstances, and the latter engaged in protracted argument with her personal devil's advocate over the virtues of continuing this little venture.

There was little actually argument going on on that score, 'arguments' as a rule requiring that at least two established positions be debated in opposition. Nicolia's only response to the annoying-little-voice's diatribes against following the ancient, keeping her back turned to the warrior, letting her mind wander over her Amazon's fine (if slightly paled) features, and risking herself for reasons still unclear was quite simple: she ignored it all. Rather, she resolved to follow the ancient wherever she led, trust the warrior with their lives, and keep all thoughts about her Amazon firmly under control until they were well away from this place.

Not, mind, that she wasn't above appreciating that ample bosom or well-filled jean.

Needless to say, the effort to actively ignore all this…particularly 'controlling' particular thoughts…was sufficiently distracting that the healer was virtually unaware when they emerged at the corridor's opposite end. Nicolia's attention was snapped back to her surroundings by Gabrielle's startled breath. Some details were quickly to leak through than others.

They were standing now in another chamber, though one far smaller than the cathedral they'd just fled from and lacking both the ornate pillars and distant skylight. There were a few lit torches here, which illuminated several small daises arrayed in a circular pattern at its center. Those same torches cast all manner of shadowy shapes throughout the place, lending an air of unreality to the place.

Some of those shapes were not shadows, and infinitely too real.

Nicolia glanced over her shoulder at the warrior, who in turn was gazing directly at her with less than friendly eyes. Her own eyes dropped instinctively, catching the sight of the length of polished steel in one hand, and the shorter on of burnished gold in the other.

To her eyes, that short length of gold was raised in a calm, almost lazy arc. The hand holding it coming back, the three-edged blade catching the light from both without and within. It brought the healer's eyes to the warrior's once more, the intention there and undisguised. The world had slowed to crawl for them.

For any other who might have witnessed it, the golden dagger became a blur of motion, raised and thrown with such speed and accuracy there was no time for anyone, least of all the healer, to so much as scream as it buried its length deep within its intended target.

The screams came only a second later, and were deafening in that small chamber.

"ARGGGH!" was the high-pitched wail that so startled the silence. It was actually a cry more of shock and outrage than of pain. Though judging by the next exclamation, the pride of the singular target of the warrior's sudden attack had suffered a mortal blow.

"Yew BITCH! D'you have any idea how much this STINGS?!"

Which would have been good and well, if there was anything to see. Beyond, that is, the golden dagger being buried a fair way into the stone of the wall immediately behind the dusty-skinned healing woman…who stood there, gazing at Xena, wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape.

Leah and Gabrielle did likewise, though in slightly different ways. Leah's eyes were locked upon the warrior, horror and outrage mixing there, while Gabrielle looked more surprised by her partner's choice of targets than the action itself. Rather, she settled Leah on one of the daisies and resumed her examination of the younger woman's injured foot. She quickly took firm hold of it (and several strategically placed nerves, which painlessly froze the attached leg) to keep her tall descendent from standing and charging Xena, which she looked entirely too willing to do.

Nicolia managed to begin breathing again, taking rather deep breaths and slowly turning to look at the dagger that had sailed past her left ear only seconds before. Her mind was still trying to catch up to the fact she'd come close to loosing that ear, and so was too distracted to fully comprehend what unfolded before her eyes.

The dagger no longer buried in stone alone.

The form materialized slowly, like a picture brought out in developer solution. Unlike such still life, this one was in constant motion, wiggling and twisting in a vain effort to escape the metal shot through its middle. A constant stream of expletives issued from its wide mouth, not all in human tongue.

Fully seen, it wasn't a terribly pleasant sight. It was humanoid in shape, though its skin had a sickening greenish tinge to it and looked no smoother than sandpaper. The creature's head was an oval set on its side, with coarse whiskers jutting out from the corners of the lipless slit it called a mouth. Pearly white teeth shown within there, flashing like perfectly cut diamonds and looking twice as sharp. Its eyes were narrow and lacked lids, the whole of the socket seemingly taken up by huge pupils. A whipcord of a tail flailed all about between its goat-like legs, the hooves of which braced and pushed ineffectively against the wall behind it. The creature could not have stood more than two feet tall, and was at once repellent and pathetic to look at.

"I swear, godling," it was screaming, a Yiddish accent lacing its words, "Ven I get this out of me…ARGH!" And off it went again, cursing in many a colorful if incomprehensible dialect.

Xena merely smirked at the nominal threat, turning instead to Nicolia and saying "I don't think you need worry about him again."

"Him?!" the healer squeaked, eyes still wide and going between the warrior and the…whatever it was pinned to the wall. "Just what in the name of all that's holy is…'him'?!"

The creature decided to put it two cents in. "I told you we should have left here! But noooo, you hav' to go and play hero!"

Nicolia's went wider still at this declaration, her mouth working though the words sounded strangled. "You mean…you…you're that voice…?" A glare was her only answer, which alone spoke volumes.

Leah was quicker to recover, though her own voice was less than steady. Even the finger she pointed with shook slightly. "What is that thing?"

"It's called a 'djinn'," Gabrielle answered without looking up from her ministrations, concentrating instead on the gentle glow that emanated from her fingertips and traced the length of the cut. "A breed of small folk who attach themselves to a particular person and basically annoy the daylights out of them without revealing themselves. We've encountered them before, though not for…well, some time."

Xena nodded, her eyes not leaving the wiggling form as she spoke to the healer. "He's probably been whispering all sorts of advice and lies to you for years. Its what he and his kind do."

"Yah! An' there ain't nothing yew can do about, warrior!" The imp then thumbed its 'nose' (which was really just two slits in the flesh above its mouth) and stuck its tongue out with a mighty "THUPPPPT!" It crossed its skeletal arms and did its best to look smug; no easy thing with length of golden metal lodged in its middle. Its voice showed the strain.

"I've been with 'er family for generations, see? Got the order from the Master himself! 'Drive 'em all to murder and madness,' he ordered." The djinn fixed a baleful glare on Nicolia, dropping its tone to one of both envy and loathing. "Powerful, they are. Would've changed the world over. Couldn't have that, nope."

"You were one of the ones who twisted Na…the Crusader, weren't you?" Xena's grip on her sword tightened dangerously as she spoke. Even now, so very long afterwards, she still couldn't speak the name. The shame of it ran deep, nearly as deep as over Hope, though for different reasons.

The djinn simply put three fingers under its sharp chin and flicked them towards the warrior. Fungole, as the Italians would say.

"Give me a reason, imp, just one reason why I shouldn't cut you up into tiny, tiny pieces and leave you for the bacchae out there." Xena said this in a quiet, calm tone which left no doubt as to her preference.

Unable to continue watching this, Nicolia turned away and wandered over to where her Amazon and the ancient were, still in something of a daze. She barely noticed the gentle glow encompassing the ancient's hand that held her Amazon's wounded foot, save the random thought "Hmm, interesting technique." Confident her skills would be of absolutely no use there, she wandered over to the other diases, hands automatically reaching to feel the necks of the small bodies laid out on each. She did this unconsciously, automatically, mind not fully realizing what lay before it.

Awareness returned abruptly when, instead of cold, lifeless flesh, her fingers came into contact with the warm pulse of life!

She couldn't stop her loud gasp of surprise. "Its them!" The others looked towards first her, then the dias she stood beside. The figure laid there, small and fragile looking, ensured no further explanation was offered or needed.

Gabrielle looked up now, eyes moving quickly over the three still forms, mouth pressed into a hard line. "Wondered when she'd notice," she muttered and let go of her descendant's foot, moving quickly to the nearest child. Leah shifted to do the same, only to be stopped by the ancient's off-handed admonishing "Stay off the foot for a few minutes, eh?" The tall woman felt unexpectedly small and nodded as a child might before their parent's intimidating height. She contented herself, for the moment, to watching her fellows like a hawk, mindful of the least sign of danger to the children.

Xena gave the imp a quelling glare advising it to remain where it was before standing and turning. In reply, the tiny creature settled into as comfortable a position as possible and proceeded to drum its blunt fingers loudly on the hilt. Everyone paid it the worst insult imaginable, and ignored it.

Because the room was bathed in an ethereal glow, the shafts of light from above clear in the visible swirls of dust and airborne grit, no-one noticed the fog-like mist which leaked from the darkest corner of the chamber. Even as it settled and rolled across the ground, hanging there, it still went unnoticed.

Everyone had eyes alone for the bodies laid out on the cold stone. To the warrior's god-endowed senses, the children were beacons against the night, signal fires lit in the darkness. Gabrielle's descendent and the healer were similarly, though she could see their innocence had been lost a time ago. This made them more like the beacon of a lighthouse to the children's celebratory bonfires in this place; made them less…interesting. The Amazon and healer would only be a meal for the ancient's kin. The children?

They would be a feast of the rarest delicacy.

Reason enough to get them, all of them, out of this place. A even more pressing one could be seen in the ancient, in the form of eyes suddenly become golden and skin paled to the consistency of marble. After millennia of iron control, the bard had found herself more and more of late letting her sire’s heritage show in all its malign and lethal glory. Fortunately the bard’s back was to her descendant, and so spared the girl unnecessary discomfort.

The healer evidently did catch sight of the bard's new coloring, judging by the sudden set to her shoulders and rock-solid stance. She was apparently as set to avoid calling attention to this as Xena herself was, saying nothing and letting nothing show, though the nonverbal cues were rather hard to miss. Gabrielle saw this, and struggled hard to reign in her hot rage before their descendant saw its result, all while moving between the children and checking them (using her more subtle senses) for the least sign of bacchae touch upon them.

Xena left them to this and concentrated on finding a way for them to escape. The way they'd come was out of the question, of course. Even if it weren't blocked at the opposite end, there was no way on this holy earth she'd risk it now. This meant finding a different way. Gods knew where she'd find it, the chamber small and illuminated enough that little could be hidden from even the most casual search. The light which filtered down from above, indistinct as it was, spoke of a possible route of escape. The only problem with this was the walls themselves, were rough hewn and arching, making the place more a dome than cave and offering little in the way of adequate hand- and foot-holds. Gabrielle's ability to fly had waned significantly of late, whether due to age or some other reason they were not sure. She could do little better than glide on the winds, and with no better control than a well-tethered kite, so that particular option was out as well.

Those same walls offered the protection of shadows and niches to hide in, the usefulness of which were questionable to Xena. If they ended up cornered in this place, they'd quick be up to their necks in body parts that hiding would be a moot point. Still, something about the play of shadows towards the back drew Xena's attention there. More accurately, the lack of play there, as her sharp sight discerned after a moment inky darkness which neither flickered nor shifted with the light.

Drawing her chakrum and taking a defensive stance with the sword, Xena edged over to this area, clearing her mind of all expectations and leaving her prepared for anything which might leap out from the darkness.

She was left utterly surprised when literally nothing leapt out to attack her. Her blade penetrated the darkness, finding no obstruction. A quick wave of it from side-to-side gave her a good idea of the tunnel's dimensions; it would be a tight fit for them all, particularly if they couldn't rouse the children, and there was no telling just where this would lead them…

This last thought turned growing hope into dark suspicion. No doubt these caverns were honeycombed with such tunnels, large and small. This nest of bacchae had been down there for years from the looks of it all, and so would likely know every chute and funnel. Even if they didn't, a tunnel so near to where they would keep their treasures - a single infant's pure innocence was a soul's ransom in gold and jewels to these animals - was something they could not have simply missed or ignored in their lust.

Xena stood, only to notice a second opening near the first, equally still in the light. She repeated the procedure of using the sword first to check for obstructions in the darkness, then to measure its width and height with the same. Both had the same results, and left her even more discomforted. One unblocked, beckoning path of escape could be chalked up to incredibly good luck. But two? There wasn’t enough luck in all creation to account for it, even if Fortune herself were flipping a double-headed coin.

Turning back to the others, Xena threw a warning glance at the djinn (who returned it with a grotesque smirk) and met her eternal partner’s eyes, now fortunately returned to their normal hues of hazel. Everything discovered and decided passed between them without an audible sound. Even so, both Leah and Nicolia looked up, ears suddenly alert and eyes alight with interest. Realizing they were under scrutiny, the two looked over to their descendents, saying not a word.

None were needed, the healer immediately picking up the smallest child while Leah, wincing at the pressure put once more on her tender soles but remained silent, cradled the largest in her brawny arms.  This left the middle one, who shifted uneasily as she was picked up, for Gabrielle. The child, no more than five years old, opened her eyes regarded the ancient with uncertainty. Looking around for something familiar, she saw and immediately reached out for Leah, mumbling as her eyes began to fill with tears.

Wishing to forestall the coming outcry, Gabrielle and Leah quickly switched their burdens, the latter actually appearing more burdened than the former. Nicolia caught this, and fought to keep her face straight. Xena motioned them towards the twin entrances of the tunnels, her eyes combing the cavern walls, suddenly alert for…something. What was impossible to say, save that the cavern seemed to become at lighter, the indistinct light overhead strengthening and cast longer shadows across the walls, while taking on a more claustrophobic air. The children were no less effected, shifting uneasily as their sleep was disturbed from within.

This was no surprise, as children are naturally the most sensitive to the passage and presence of evil, adults being too busy in their spirits to notice such things.

This instance was no exception, their nominal guardians here being equal measures aware and unaware of these things, distracted as their attention was right then. Gabrielle nevertheless must have felt it as well, given the way she clutched the child closer to her. Even Leah and Nicolia, preoccupied as they were, did not fail to pick up on this. They could hardly avoid it, the tension among them all being palpable enough to taste, though they quickly rationalized it simply as delayed nerves. Leah in particular was anxious to avoid…freezing up as she had before that tower of dirty laundry, and so did a perfectly Covington thing: she simply told herself she had not done such a thing and would not do such a thing ever again. She actually managed to convince herself on that score for about an entire minute.

The warrior and ancient knew better, and steeled themselves for wherever it might spring out at them.

Xena had already waved them towards the twin entrances, still trying to decide which to direct them through while keeping a clear eye on every possible angle of attack and arguing over the whether to pause to grab up the dagger or simply leave it and the djinn there. Certainly no one, the one who had forged it least among them, would object to it being abandoned to such a function. Still the warrior was loath to leave any weapon of such potency within the enemy's stronghold.

Her attention so divided, she completely missed the scene unfolding at the chamber's opposite end until it was nearly too late.

The others were not so fortunate.

Gabrielle had led the way towards escape, knowing she was the most capable of the three of them. There was no pride in this thought, merely an acknowledgement of the obvious. The others had given no argument, though both followed close and watched with eyes holding a comforting level of suspicion. The healer's in particular, having seen the ancient's lineage in full if brief display watched her for the least sign of its return.

Just what exactly she could do if it were to rear its ugly head was beyond her.

These ruminations came to an abrupt halt, as did her progress towards the tunnels, when Gabrielle's small form became an impassable barrier for both herself and her Amazon. The reason quickly became obvious, and put paid to not only her bravado but her Amazon's stoicism.

Before them, a column of foul smelling mist was rising slowly from the ground, bleeding from a thousand points out of the walls and collecting itself into a towering wall. It spread itself outwards and still further upwards, as though mimicking a great shroud about to descend upon them all. This movement stopped with Gabrielle's soft, almost inviting threat.

"Don't even think about it."

The mist actually seemed to draw away from her words, its width shrinking and condensing, quickly becoming a swirling column of smoke and grit. A pulling breath of wind accompanied this change, though it proved only strong enough to pick at the dirt and tiny stones underfoot. Two slits of pale crimson opened within the twister, pulsing with a hate so pure and alive it was nearly hypnotic. A hulking form soon took form behind those eyes, its shape only vaguely human. Strange limbs and…other things…could be seen flexing and moving there, a shell of light gray slowly coalescing around it.

Leah fought a trembling battle against the paralysis that once more gripped her, the child she held quite disquieted now, shifting and twisting in her dead-locked arms. Nicolia's tiny burden proved equally difficult, though Gabrielle's slept on, as though shielded whatever nightmare gripped the others by her presence alone.

The winds died down slowly, the miniature twister dissipating in tandem. Just as their had been no cause for either, so there was soon no trace, save the settling of a few tiny stones back onto the cold rocky floor. Silence again reigned, though they were no longer alone in this place.

Framed in the overhead shafts of cold and distant light, replete in robes and linens stained and blackened by every filth and sin imaginable, stood the master of this place. It swung its arms wide, at once beckoning and repelling.

The hollow echo that drifted from the hidden depths of the Death One's shambling form broke the silence.

The figure before them all was easily eight feet tall, taller given it hovered some length off the ground below. Its rag-robes fluttered about, swaying gently to the breeze emerging from within them. The stench it brought was, at least momentarily, overpowering, reminding all of things better left buried. Even the warrior, who had crawled through the muck and human debris of thousand battlefields without flinching, couldn't help but wrinkle her nose at this.

It soon dissipated, but not before accomplishing its intended task. The children were further disquieted, and their guardians unnerved. Well, one of them, at any rate, the other three only looking several shades more furious.

Leah instinctively drew back, some part of her mind was screaming incoherently in terror at the sight hovering over them, the rest cowering in the darkest corner of her consciousness. Her body, however, was kept from such retreat by encountering Nicolia's rigid form directly behind her. The healer quickly reached out, eyes still on the Death One, her hand unerringly finding and wrapping itself around her Amazon's upper arm, steadying her against what was to come.

Xena maneuvered herself to the far left, to where she'd pinned the djinn against the wall. She knew instinctively her sword was useless here, as was the chakrum. The former hadn't a prayer of doing enough damage quickly enough against this Elder, and throwing the latter in these confined quarters was a death sentence to everyone else in sight. Hence her reaching for the one truly blessed weapon at hand. If she could reach it quickly enough…if she could hit just the right spot…

Though she saw none of this directly, nor catching even the slightest glimpse of it in the periphery, Gabrielle knew what her partner planned. She did what she could to assure success. "Snacking on little children, Gaunt?" the ancient sniffed in disdain, taking a bold step forward. "I thought you didn't partake of such sport."

Hardly sport, dear sssssister, came the Elder's reply, spoken with something other than lips and voice. It drifted to 'stand' immediately before her, a limb resembling a hand reaching out towards the sleeping child she held. Merely ssssustainance. The 'hand' had only three fingers, each possessing so many joints it seemed more like a tentacle, no noticeable thumb, and covered with rough looking skin whose deep wrinkles had tufts of coarse hair sprouting out of them. This sight alone, so completely alien, nearly undid Nicolia, as betrayed by her grip tightening desperately on Leah's arm.

Gabrielle had no such qualms, a delicate looking hand snapping out and snatching the Death's One's multi-jointed wrist in an iron-still grip. "I warned you," she murmured. "Do not even think about it." Tendrils of smoke issued form beneath her fingers as her complexion paled, her eyes became golden, and her fingers sharpened to wicked claws.

The Death One shook loose from her grip, though not easily. It withdrew a pace in acknowledgement of the threat, clearly turning its attention to the two mortals and equally precious burdens.

You can protect your own, little ssssister, it taunted. But can you save your own? The threat was clear as it opened its arms wide and advanced another pace before stopping. The Elder could easily pounce upon them before either the ancient or warrior could intercept, holding back only so to gauge their reaction.

Restrained anger from the warrior, her hand ready to reach out for the dagger, totally ignoring the baleful glare the djinn gave her. The dark fury had eyes, fierce and threatening, for the Elder alone.

The bard was equally retrained, though her own reaction was, if anything, even more extreme. Her complexion paled to pure marble, while her eyes shone as liquid gold. Her fangs extended wholly of their own volition, filling her snarl with sharp ivory and her claws glittered in the weak light.

The air went still, and waited.

The Death One turned its head so to better view those it considered the greatest threats. It had decided almost immediately the two mortals were of no threat whatsoever, holding its menacing position over them to dissuade any effort at escape but otherwise wholly ignoring them; this quickly proved a grievous mistake.

No quicker had the Elder turned to look upon the bard than the healer, who had long prepared for a confrontation such as this (though admittedly not with this particular creature) burst into action. Her free hand left its perch on Leah's arm and reached behind her, grasping the hilt of the trusted bowie and flinging it at the distracted Elder. From the instant she'd grabbed it to the moment it found its target, the small blade became aglow with St. Elmo's Fire, illuminating runes carved into the metal that had previously been invisible.

The flash of movement brought the Death One's attention back to its would-be victims, Its head swinging back just in time for the bowie to bury itself into the cowl and whatever form lurked within. The knife connected with a wet-sounding THUCK, the force of the throw rocking its head back slightly as the entire weapon glowed and pulsed as if with life itself. This pulsing light flared after a moment or two, erupting in a flash of heat and force that left all blinded for an instant.

The air was suddenly thick with the smell of burning earth and screams more resembling iron nails dragged across a chalkboard as the Elder staggered away, though this was more out of shock and disorientation than actual pain. The warrior threw the dusky-skinned woman a look of momentary surprise before acting herself, racing forward and snatching the golden dagger out of the wall.

"Heyyyyy!" the djinn cried out, the blade buried so deep into its midsection there was no way it could simply slide off. Xena completely ignored its continued shouts of outrage as she sent the dagger sailing across the chamber and dead-center into the still disorientated Elder.

Another scream, one of real pain this time, issued from the tattered apparition. It was knocked further back this time, the force behind the throw like a runaway train compared to the healer's own, sending the Elder careening back to impact with the far wall.

"Geth…this…thin'…off…meeeee!" the djinn's muffled voice slurred and hissed from within the creature's ragged folds. It was lost amid the ragged gasps and howls The Elder's entire form shook with.

No-one present bothered responding to these entreaties or paid them the least attention. Nicolia in fact found herself being shoved, hard, into Leah by the warrior. As they passed the ancient, her fangs fully bared and eyes alight, the third child was passed to her without the warrior diminishing the pressure in the slightest. "Go! Get them out of here!" she urged, an uncharacteristic note of desperation to her words.

Quickly arranging both children so each was draped over a shoulder, Nicolia oh so carefully prodded her still semi-petrified Amazon forward, not daring to look back. Judging by her raspy breathing and the diminishing cries of the bacchae Elder, they had but moments to make good an escape.

"Move, damn you! Get in there. That's it. C'mon, move!" Her pushing both physically and vocally produced the desired results, and the taller woman bent down and crawled into the narrow shaft, taking care to protect the small form in her arms. Against all good sense, Nicolia looked back and called out "Warrior?" The longing in her voice was almost a magnetic in its depth.

The DarkFire, to that moment only a myth to her, didn't spare her glance. There was no time for whatever words could or might have been said, save for only one. "GO!" The ancient, as was her way, was more merciful. Her golden eyes fixed the healer with a look of pure compassion and what might have been maternal care.

"Go, cousin," she said quietly, the words carrying directly to her ears. "This isn't for your eyes."

Nicolia felt her jaw clench, hard, as her heart became ice. She turned and eased herself into the small passageway, managing to contort herself so both her charges slept on without disturbance. Both remained so far gone, in fact, even the animalistic roar that erupted behind her as she crawled forward. It prompted her to navigate growing incline of the tunnel all the quicker. Her progress soon brought her within sight of her Amazon's backside as it inched ahead.

Leah, who'd frozen the instant she heard the scrapping behind her and looked fearfully behind her, was reassuring as an exhausted grin met her. Her relief at seeing Nicolia looking up towards her was so complete, the tall Amazon was half convinced she'd burst into tears that instant. Right then might have been the perfect time, but it was hardly the place. The healer must have come to the same conclusion, as she summoned her best commanding tone and barked "Keep moving, Captain. I'm right behind you."

Leah allowed herself a calming breath before resuming her climb. "That's 'Major', to you," she corrected, eyes straight ahead, never wavering from the distant patch of light at the tunnel's opposite end.

"Yes, ma'am." Nicolia couldn't help but mutter in reply, a silly grin catching her and holding tight.

The Death One, robes and cowl charred in places but otherwise intact, rose to Its naturally formidable height and surveyed its opponents. The warrior of course still clutched her sword, all of them knowing how useless it was, and the bard stood only paces away, her…their…sire's heritage fully exposed. She was the most radiant, most beautiful of predators like this, moving even its jaded soul to pause in admiration.

Its blood-sister displayed only impatience with this. "Well," she questioned. "What next, Gaunt?"

Drawing a pseudo-hand into the depths of Its robes, the Death One plucked the golden dagger with its wiggling and unwilling passenger from there, a slurping sound accompanying it. Vicious black bile dripped from the three-edged blade and from the impaled imp. Wiping its eyes clean and spitting out the thick icor, the djinn glared up at the Elder and hissed with all the venom at its command "Don't yew evor vash yewself, neh?!"

The Death One's only reply was to grab the imp by the neck and remove it from the dagger with a mighty yank. "Ghaack!" the small creature yelped, its ability to breathe sudden interrupted (not that it really needed to, but it was a hard habit nevertheless to break) and found itself dangled at the end of a raptor-like claw. This led to more squirming and pig-like squealing, which the Elder endured for only a moment before flinging the djinn over its shoulder before turning its attention wholly upon the weapon in its other hand.

The imp suffered several broken bones and twisted neck from hitting the wall with such force and landing without the least control upon its head, all of which healed a few minutes later as it came to. Seeing all present were otherwise occupied, the imp quickly got to it tiny goat-feet and stalked over to the two tunnel entrances, a small leer to its wide mouth, its tiny mind already concocting new poisons for its appointed's ear.

These plans were nipped in the bud when the warrior's sword descended directly in its path, blocking its progress. The imp looked up, both fearful and furious, and met the warrior's eye. The DarkFire didn't give more than a momentary glance its way, a slight sneer curling her lips as she whispered down to it. "Go near either of them, or their descendents, and you'll answer to me." She withdrew the sword and that was that, the Elder whose unsavory innards it had recently and so intimately visited her focus once more. Normally, the imp's monolithic pride would have demanded immediate revenge for so obvious a slight to it.

Right then, all it could do was slunk away into the tunnel shaft not taken by the appointed one and her woman. The twisted cogs of its twisted little brain, however, were already hard turning for a way around the edict now upon it.

No one present paid the least mind to its departure.

Nice blade.Gaunt's serpentine voice drifted in the silence, holding up the dagger as if in admiration.

"Remember that when I use it cut your heart out," Gabrielle rejoined, maneuvering around ahead of it, trying to keep its attention upon her alone. Her threat was so blatant and uncharacteristic, it brought the Elder up short for a moment, providing the warrior the opening they needed. Xena had kept to the back, keeping watch over their descendents escape, her every muscle coiled and ready to spring. No signal passed between them, none being needed. No more than an instant passed between the ancient's words and the warrior becoming a blur, her blade becoming a silver arch reaching towards the Death One's torso.

Her attack was interrupted by Gaunt itself, who was evidently less distracted than they'd hoped. Nothing fancy or showing its true power, simply It sweeping an arm towards the leaping warrior, deflecting her path and sending her careening back the way she'd come.

Gabrielle held her ground, prepared to launch her own assault, but equally unwilling to risk a useless effort. They needed to keep this one busy long enough for the children to make it to safety, and that meant keeping Its attention focused upon them exclusively. This in turn presented the challenge of staying alive long enough to do so, the weapon It now held more potent than could be easily imagined.

You should feed your bitch better, ssssister. Her edge is sssssliping. Again Gabrielle held her peace, giving her kin a small smile and visibly relaxing her stance. This disturbed the Elder for some reason, causing It to back up a single pace and heft the heavy dagger in her direction, holding more like a talisman than an actual weapon.

There came a whisper of metal against leather from behind. The Death One could clearly see, even as It kept Its many eyes straight ahead, the warrior rising to her feet and drawing the chakrum from her belt. She wielded both weapons as hand-blades rather than projectiles, which was unexpected. Surely she knew metal wielded by hand was all but useless against it?

This distracting thought lasted only a moment. When the Death One returned total attention to the small, honeyblonde kin, It realized its mistake. Looking upon her, It was faced with a truth that only monumental arrogance had long hidden.

Old and powerful as It was…It was but a reflection of Its kin…and not the only one to embody the power of life and death.

Gaunt, the Death One, drew Itself once more to its full height, a malicious grin hidden within the folds of its flesh. The thrill that shot through It was nothing short of exhilarating. Its fate…their fate…would be decided here…decided by force of arms, fought by tooth and claw! It had been centuries since partaking in such a contest, the battle always proving so very easy back then.

It took the dagger in a more practical grip, and prepared itself.

Xena crouched in readiness, the sword and chakrum at the ready.

Gabrielle held her ground, calm and waiting.

Darkness, shade, and light stood facing each other in eternal balance, each waiting the first move of the other.

It proved a short enough wait.

They had nearly reached the end of the tunnel, the clear sky above them, when the first sounds of clashing metal drifted up to them. Both Leah and Nicolia paused and looked down, their eyes meeting before resuming their climb as quickly as safety and their burning muscles allowed. It had proved exhausting, though fortunately not nearly as arduous as it looked, just getting as far as they had. That the children were starting to stir hadn't helped matters any.

The abundance of hand- and foot-holds was an obvious bonus and ensured they wouldn't fall too far were either of them to slip. Neither had to that point, both equally determined to avoid doing so…if only to keep from giving the other gloating material. This same gritty determination to impress each other kept them from speaking or even grunting from the exertion.

Needless to say, this didn't make either the time or distance seem to pass any quicker.

Leah had just come within reaching distance of the opening when a shrill cry from far below reached up to them. There was no way to tell if it had been man or woman who'd screamed out, the sound being so indistinct and echoing. It nonetheless prompted both women to forget their mutual exhaustion and move.

Leah braced herself as securely as possible against the opposing sides and shook her small passenger awake, doing so not very gently. She'd already had to shift the child between arms several times just to free up a replacement for which ever arm had been doing the grasping and pulling to that point. Both arms ached like mad by that point, which was reflected, however unintentionally, in her voice.

"C'mon, up," she nearly barked at the girl, a small four year old who regarded first Leah, then the sky-lit hole with wary eyes. "Up. Move!" Leah urged again, prompting the child to reach up and find a grip on the rocks. Pulling herself up and out, of course, would have been an impossible save for the strong hand pushing her on the posterior. Sharp rocks dug into Leah's feet as she braced against them to push first the girl, then heft herself upwards.

"Don't wander off, hon," she panted as she pressed herself through the opening, resting only a moment before reaching back down into it. Nicolia wisely didn't try pulling herself out while still burdened on both shoulders. The hole simply wasn't large enough for the three of them. Rather, she climbed as close to it as possible and, bracing herself as Leah had, lifted one of the children off first one shoulder, then the other, delivering each into Leah's waiting hands. Both sniffled and looked miserable, but fortunately didn't put up any struggle. Neither woman had the strength right then for even the smallest argument with them.

The children safely out, once again warned with a stern "Stay there!", Leah leaned back down into the hole and extended a hand to Nicolia. The dusky-skinned woman reached up and grasped it…

…precisely as her footing gave way underneath her.

Both of them cried out in surprise, Leah finding herself jerked halfway down into the opening, her free hand pushing desperately to the edge even as it dug painfully into stomach. Nicolia instinctively wrapped both hands around Leah's, her feet kicking around for a purchase on the walls. This only served to unbalance Leah further, causing her to nearly tumble fully down the shaft. "Go limp!" she screamed, pushing with all her might on the edge.

Nicolia quickly realized the danger her thrashing presented and promptly did as instructed, stilling herself and going limp. She looked up and saw the exertion writ plainly across her Amazon's sweating face. "Let me go…" she began, only to be savagely cut off.

"Shut…up!" Leah hissed, arms and back straining to hold them there. Breathing hard, she ordered "Find a foot-hold!"

The healer carefully kicked out with both feet, searching but finding nothing of use. The rocks gave way too quickly beneath her, and the shaft was angled too sharply to try landing upon it from a fall, however short. "I…I can't…" she panted, fear starting to overtake her. Not fear for herself, but for what would likely happen if she didn't let go quickly. She even tried to loosen her grip, only to have her Amazon's larger hand wrap that much tighter about her wrist, virtually cutting off the circulation and turning her fingertips blue.

"Find…a…fucking…foot-hold!" The order was delivered both with unmistakable authority, and a clear and unspoken warning of 'you go, I go'. It was all the incentive Nicolia needed, leading her to swing herself back to the shaft wall and kick both feet hard as possible into the wall, dislodging loose rock but managing to find purchase there. She fully released one hand and found a hand-hold as well, though her Amazon refused to slacken her grip in the least.

Confident now they were safe, Leah ordered "Now climb." as she redoubled pushing with her free hand. Her palm slipped slightly on the sandy soil as the healer made her painfully slow ascent. If this was felt, the healer gave no mention, though it contributed no small amount of sweat to Leah's brow.

Eventually, Nicolia reached the opening's edge, successfully bracing herself against the narrowed walls and wrestling herself up and through it. Leah had not let go of her hand, even when she'd was halfway out, the warning still in her eyes. With a mighty yank, one Nicolia was sure would pull her arm from the socket, Leah pulled her clear and they landed in tangle. Struggling to her knees, Nicolia received perhaps the greatest shock yet as Leah Margareeth Covington did something utterly alien to her.

She burst into tears, reaching out and literally crushing the healer to her, the tears and sobs coming in a torrent. She'd never cried so hard, even when she'd broken her arm at six in a climbing accident.

Nicolia would have reciprocated, were her arms not effectively pinned against her sides and the force of her Amazon's sobs shaking them both. She could only cry her own quiet tears of relief and lay her head on Leah's strong shoulder, crooning all the while as to a frightened child. "Shhh, love. I'm here. Shhh."

At one point she seemed to calm and pull back. Looking Nicolia in the eye, she growled as she bunched her shirt in both hands "Don't you ever tell to let you go…" Her voice promptly broke and a new wave a tears came. Nicolia was able to free her arms this time and tenderly wrapped them about the taller woman's shoulders, rocking her and murmuring reassuring noises in her ear with a calm that she had no right feeling.

Eventually the tears subsided enough that they remembered the children. Pulling back from each other, though keeping hands linked, the two of them looked about the empty plain unto which they'd emerged. The canyon walls could be seen in the near distance, but there was otherwise nothing to see save dusty plains and the gathering twilight in the sky. A small fact which promptly caused their hearts to palpitate wildly.

The children were nowhere in sight.

Both stood, panic tightening its hold on their hearts as they looked all around. "Kids?!" Leah called out, fighting to steady her voice. Nicolia didn't trust herself even that far, and so instead visually scoured the area, keen eyes looking for the smallest track or sign. There were an abundance of hoof- and boot-prints around, both large and small. She was given no time, however, to either examine nor analyze their meaning.

"Freeze!" was shouted out from behind them, delivered with enough shock and vehemence they normally might have obeyed. Right then, it simply prompted them to spin on the voice, unmasked rage across both their faces and promising to rip whoever threatened them apart with only their bare hands. Their eyes narrowed, expecting more Zionist Militia or some hardy band of nomads.

They were greeted by the disbelieving looks of a brace of Freetstate horse cavalry, all of whom immediately recognized Leah and put up their weapons. Their officer, a young man with Captain's bars on his shoulders, dismounted and approached. Leah risked a quick glance towards the other three, seeing each of the children were seated on one of the saddles and held there carefully by the riders. She also noticed a solitary horse toward the back, its own saddle empty but heavily loaded with bedroll and supplies.

The Captain spoke to her, saluting and eyes raking over her from head to toe. "Major Covington, ma'am?"

Trying to return the salute with a shaky hand, Leah replied "Yes?"

The youngster looked her over once more before saying, "We…thought you were dead. I see those reports were… exaggerated?" At this, Leah felt herself go still for several moments before did something else wholly uncharacteristic for her:

She doubled over laughing.

Nicolia soon joined her, both of them clutching to each other and falling to their knees. The Captain could only look over his shoulder to his men, fearing their hysteria was contagious. Leah was soon trying to gasp something between laughs. "Ma'am?" the Captain asked, kneeling down, but not too close.

"Mark…Mark Twain!" she bellowed out, and laughed some more, not entirely sure what they were laughing in the first place.

Night had fallen by the time they reached the patrol's encampment. During their ride Marcous, the Captain, had given Leah (who rode with Nicolia on the extra horse, which Marcous swore he hadn't noticed before and who had made a beeline for the healer) a brief sketching of the past several days. Her aunt, furious that she hadn't been informed of Leah's mission to the Southern Nations, had dispatched several mounted patrols into the Blackwood Corridor so to ensure the safe return of both herself and the pilgrims. Marcous' team had come across the abandoned caravan two days ago, and had been searching since then. They'd of course communicated their findings to the other teams, who began their own searches, but had held back sending word back to the border.

"Very wise, Captain," Leah nodded, knowing what her volatile aunt's reaction would likely have been. She'd have marched into the canyons with every soldier she could muster, gods alone knowing what the Zionists would have made of that.

"As luck would have it," Marcous continued, "we were passing by on our final circuit when we heard the commotion as you were…climbing out." He coughed and tried not to look too embarrassed. "I'm afraid the children had wandered off a bit when we found them, so we nearly missed you."

"Hmm," was her only response to this.

"Ma'am? About the others…?" Leah's answer was in the devastated eyes she fixed on the young Captain. He asked no further questions, concentrated on leading them all to safety.

It turned out Marcous and another patrol had established a joint base only a short distance away, its fires offering a reassuring beacon for them. There were over a dozen pitched tents there, offering at least the appearance of sanctuary for them, an illusion all involved were more than grateful for. Leah was simply too exhausted to acknowledge the salutes or stares thrown her way. Rather, she dismounted and ordered Marcous to deploy extra guards to the perimeter. "My caravan was attached by bacchae. I doubt they'll be any trouble, but tell the men keep frosty," she told him, the full weight of her exhaustion finally hitting her. The Captain nodded and signaled his counterpart. The medics appeared as if by magic, quickly prodding and poking the children for wounds before turning to herself.

Nicolia had directed Leah to sit on one of the larger stones near the central fire, kneeling beside her so to examine her foot. She was somewhat rudely prodded aside by one of the medics, who took over the examination. Leah gathered her strength to rebuke the stern-faced man, the fire in her eye enough to at least singe his handlebar moustache. She was quelled by a tiny shake of Nicolia's head. "How long have you been walking without boots, Major?" the medic asked.

"I dunno. At least a day, I think." The man grunted, sounding unconvinced, and stood.

"I'll scrounge up something for you. Try to get some sleep, eh?" he said before moving away, not giving Nicolia even a second's glance. The women shared a tired chuckle between them as Nicolia draped a blanket over her shoulders. Leah surprised them both by reaching out and grabbing her wrist before she could withdraw, quickly pulling her down into a somewhat awkward embrace. She momentarily tensed, more from surprise than actual reluctance, before settling into her Amazon's lap.

She let go a shuddering breath and relaxed, truly relaxed, for perhaps the first time in her life. Leah drew her close, the blanket covering them both. The healer curled into a loose ball astride her Amazon's thighs, her head finding a perfect niche on the latter's shoulder.

The warmth and security left her drowsy, making her eyes heavy and head light.

"Nicolia?" she heard her name called.

"Hm?"

"What took you so long?"

The healer smiled into her Amazon's shoulder, the question signaling her journey completed. Or perhaps merely beginning. It no longer mattered. This thought in mind, she drifted away into a dreamless slumber.

In the darkness just before dawn, Leah opened her eyes, still drowsy but strangely disturbed.

She looked about in momentary confusion, wondering how she'd gotten into a cot with Nicolia draped over her. She began to sit up, but quickly thought better of it, content to lie there and let her other half's gentle snores vibrate through her. They reminded her how she'd picked up the sleeping healer and brought her to one of the tents, intent on letting her sleep in peace and herself take a cot nearby. The woman's grip on her convinced her otherwise, and she found herself occupying the narrow frame with her, somehow maneuvering them both into a comfortable position.

Certain the source of the disturbance wasn't beside her, Leah let her eyes drift to the half-open tent flap. The sky was still inky black and the campfires were burning low. Beyond them she caught the reassuring movements of the sentries, all casual and fully alert. Confused, she turned her eyes back to the interior of their tent, taking in the bare walls and the cot opposite theirs…

…where Gabrielle sat, watching them.

Were she not still half-asleep, and half-convinced she was merely dreaming, Leah was sure she would have leapt to her feet and screamed seven hells at the diminutive blonde. Instead she lay there and returned Gabrielle's keen stare with her own heavy-lidded one. Of all the questions she could think to ask, only one came to her lips. "Is it over?"

The smaller woman smiled. "Ah, difficult question." She tapped her chin for a moment before continuing "Let's just say anyone else passing this way won't have to deal with the sort of…obstacles you all did."

"And the others?"

Gabrielle's expression turned dark. "I'm sorry about them. Truly." She took a breath. "They won't be…coming back, if that's what you're worried about." Leah unconsciously tightened her hold on Nicolia, who'd shifted and murmured something intelligible. That had been among her more secret fears since waking up in that abattoir. Only similar fears for the children had kept her from thinking of it more at the time.

Seeing this, the blonde smiled again. "I was hoping you two would find each other some day. I just wish…"

Anger shot through her at this. "You…planned this?"

Gabrielle simply shook her head. "Nothing of the sort, I promise." She stood and knelt beside their cot, Leah again tightening her hold and drawing them back as far as she could from the blonde's approach. The small blonde, doing her best to look as harmless and reassuring as possible, reached out and took Leah's hand, placing something heavy there.

Leah, mind full of terrifying and irrational thoughts, didn't dare look away from those hazel-green eyes to see what she now held. Despite herself, she was dazzled by the gentle smile the blonde woman gave her. "Keep that with you. Its not blood on the threshold, but it works." A small shrug accompanied this, drawing Leah's eyes to the object.

A long dagger of golden metal, its three-edged blade catching the light, was nestled now in her hand.

Leah looked up, more questions on her lips, only to find herself alone. She looked around for any sign of the blonde's departure, seeing only the tent flaps swaying ever so slightly in the early morning breeze. She was about to call out when that same breeze kissed her cheek and whispered "Sleep, child."

Her eyes closed, head pillowed against her other half's shoulder. Their snores mingled in the otherwise silent morning.

This was how Marcous found her hours later, his morning salutation quieted by Nicolia's warning glare, the golden dagger hidden from sight.

"We're breaking camp in a few hours, ma'am," the Captain reported to her, which Nicolia acknowledged with a dismissive nod. Marcous withdrew, leaving the healer to sit back and admire her Amazon's relaxed profile. She looked so much younger in the daylight, but no less beautiful.

As if hearing these thoughts, Leah opened her eyes, smiling the whole while. "Good morning," Nicolia greeted.

"Yes," her Amazon hummed, bringing their lips together for the first time. "Yes, it is."

Epilogue

It was some days afterwards that the djinn finally found its way out of the tunnels. It was not a large or especially strong creature, nor really built to go climbing about in underground shafts. Goat's hooves were not the being the best implements to climb on, as the sheer number of tumbles and broken limbs it had endured testified to.

Nevertheless, emerge it eventually did. It had a job to do, whatever the warrior's threats to the contrary, and damned if it wouldn't do it.

It huffed and puffed its way out of the hole, immediately catching its appointed's scent. Following this to now-abandoned campsite, the djinn promptly began stomping its tiny hooves cursing a miniature storm, realizing the healing woman was beyond its reach.

Oooo, but the Master was going to be pissed when it found out. This only made the imp curse that much harder, knowing the sorts of tortures and indignities it would have to endure as apology. A thought occurred to it. Perhaps, if it played up the warrior just enough, it could perhaps get reassignment. The prospects for that, however, were about as dim as the proverbial night sky. More cursing and stomping followed, sending the scorpions and snakes fleeing to their lairs.

Eventually, it calmed and simply scowled into the dark night. "Ah, vell," it muttered. "Que sera sera." Brushing itself down, the djinn set off into the waiting darkness, where its fate waited.

Standing on a nearby horizon were two figures, one tall and dark, the other smaller and radiant, both watching this with eyes sharper then any mortal creature. The clear moon overhead bathed the land once more in silver light, save for a puff of cloud that drew brief shadows out beneath it. This momentary darkness passed over the pair, and left only emptiness in its wake, both figures gone as though they had never been.

The stars and silent sky overhead paid this passage no mind, and continued their eternal cycles as designed.

Fin.

Author's Notes and Somewhat Random Musings:

Well, once again we've landed far afield from where I intended. Thanks for your patience, your occasional bouts of impatience, and the many kind (and not-so-kind) comments along the way. I can safely say my one regret here was not having this finished for you all by Passover holiday, 1999 CE.(sorry, I'm not sure what year it is in the Hebrew calendar)

I realize I began this story portraying the Mormon Church in a less than favorable light. Understand, the individuals portrayed here can easily be, and increasingly are, found in any and all religious doctrines the world over. They are NOT representative of the Church as a whole, and should not be taken as such. Also keep in mind this all takes place after decades of upheaval and disaster, which understandably can leave one a bit unbalanced.

As I've said before, no story is written by the author alone:

Thanks especially to Katrina, who inspires and encourages.

Thanks to Kieren, Malea, Madora, and Miguel, who all endure my occasional rants and frequent bad moods.

Most of all, thank you to the many who have written back and begged, cajoled, threatened, and demanded this be finished…all one hundred plus of you. You wrote when I needed to hear it. Keep it coming.

Sub-Standard Disclaimer: the furnishings of the bacchae caverns were not harmed in the writing of this story. They are, however, always accepting any donations of used but in good condition coffins. Pinewood preferred.

Until next time…

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